"Assessing Potential" Part Two

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Junior Grade Naranda Sol Roswell - Engineering Officer

***USS Galaxy: Main Engineering***

Nara kept the taken back feeling deep inside, never once knowingly letting her facial expression show any emotion. It was rather a loaded question. She gave an answer she knew wasn't quite what was desired, but it was all she had, "I'm not sure that's a reasonable question, in all due respect. Likely only by my own ego, I am willing to say yes." Nara paused and decided reasons would be good, "In spite of my previous attitude, which I have shown a willingness to change, I have shown myself skilled and willing to submit to the chain of command." She rather hated the self-promotion, but the opportunity was given. She would be cheating herself if she didn't take it.

Dhani smiled slightly. She suppressed the chuckle that was rising. She had to admit Nara had balls and she was dedicated. She was eager for more responsibility and she admired that. In fact she applauded that. For a moment she contemplated her next step. "In regards to your ego Nara, it has a place. It has a place here, by showing me that you are committed and whish to advance, however when it comes to dealing with people your ego needs to take a back seat. You say that you are willing to change, to learn and therefore I assume put those skills, once learnt, to use?" she questioned.

"Yes."

"However you need to show me that before I can wholeheartedly without any shadow of a doubt put you into that position. As you are by no means the only person capable of performing that role in this department. There are several other candidates." Dhani informed her so that she wouldn't get her hopes up too high.

Inwardly, she deflated. Outwardly, she looked, she hoped, the same, "Yes, Ma'am."

Dhanishta noted how Nara slumped in the chair before her. She felt a lot of compassion for Nara, she had been through a tough time with the previous department heads and even though she had her failings she also was an extremely hard worker, "Nara, your skills as an engineer are not by any means in question here." she told her with all sincerity, "You have on several occasions shown your ability to adapt and improvise. What is under debate is your ability to lead, to interact as a superior officer to your subordinates. Hwii is a full lieutenant, Nara. While you were in charge of Engineering you outranked him by the position you were holding at that time, but would you have addressed a Captain in the same way that you addressed him?" Dhanishta leaned forward, not even realising that she had done so, Nara's response here was pivotal. She had been in charge and her orders were final, but she still had to respect the rank that others had earned, even whilst in command of them.

Nara had realized at the time, Hwii's rank, but he was being completely irrelevant and irrational. "No, I wouldn't." She wasn't sure if the truth was in her favour or not. It was still the truth. "I probably would had said the same things, but with more tact." The fact that Nara and Hwii had a bit of personal history and that he had bullied the others into agreeing to push her out of the 'pod' was beside the point. She decided it didn't matter to be mentioned because if it did affect how she treated him, it shouldn't have.

Dhanishta nodded, "Him and everyone else you dealt with." she added eying Nara for a moment. Hwii was by no means the only officer that she had been rude to.

Opening her draw Dhanishta pulled out several data padds, "To that end, if this is something you wish to pursue I have a list of courses that you can take to improve on your 'interpersonal relationship skills', and command ability. Some of these courses must be taken before you can take that next step up the ladder."

Handing them over to Nara she elaborated on there contents, "First off is the details on the 'Starfleet Leadership and Administration' course, I assume that you have already taken this at the Academy, if so you can skip this or refer to it for refreshment. Second is an advanced post graduation course on 'Officer Training', this is a six week course. The 'Command Management' course, also a post graduate advanced course, is a fourteen week course spread out over a period of time. All of these you can take whilst serving on the Galaxy, unless you wish to revisit the Academy?" she asked.

Nara answered flatly as it was all laid out, "That won't be necessary."

Dhani nodded, "You will of course need to take the 'Bridge Officers Exam' and another course in associated learning wont hurt either. Something other than what you majored in at the Academy, perhaps even on a different topic all together, xenobiology for example," Dhani suggested, "as interaction with other departments is a must for a senior officer."

Nara nodded, "Yes, Ma'am."

"As for what I expect from the officers in this department," Dhani said as the meeting drew to a close, "I expect you to act in accordance to the 'Starfleet Code of Conduct' at all times." she concluded flatly letting her know there was no wiggle room on that. There was obviously room for leeway under extreme duress, but for now, she had to set that rule in stone, as it always should be. Any further infractions would be dealt with as and when they came up, taking into account any extenuating circumstances at that time.

"I am away for the next two weeks on leave; Lieutenant Hwii will be in charge of Main Engineering until I get back. We will talk again when I get back." Dhani said as she began to pack up. She took a moment to mentally congratulate herself on not letting the offices current appearance affect her throughout this meeting, "Just so you are aware this office will be undergoing a refit, a temporary office has been set up in the store room. Please inform the Lieutenant." Her tone and posture signified that the meeting had come to an end, she looked up to make sure that information had been received and Nara was not away with the fairies plotting her own take over, or tonight's dinner!

"Yes, Ma'am" Nara looked her straight in the eyes as a sign of respect.

"By the way Nara," Dhani said absently as Nara was at the door, "You made the right call on not going on that second rescue team." she said as she picked up another padd off the desk, "You were the most qualified offer to handle that mission, and I know that you would have jumped at the chance had you the opportunity." she smiled slightly, had she been here she would have sent Nara on it without batting an eyelid.

Her tone turned dark as she said, "If you had left the ship you would be scrubbing the plasma injectors with a microresonator and we would never had had this discussion about the Assistant Chief position." she glanced up from the report she was now perusing and locked eyes with Nara for an instant, conveying her *complete* agreement with her decision to stay on the ship and her approval of Nara's actions on that case.

Crossing the room Dhani handed Nara the recent ship update report, "The ship looks good." she said locking eyes with Nara, once more conveying her seal of approval on the way she handled the recent crisis, that would be the only form of congratulations Nara would receive from Dhani at this time. She still had a way to go, but Dhani saw the potential in the young woman. Nothing came easy, and she had to make sure Nara knew to earn that spot she was going to have to work for it. Just like anyone else. "You are dismissed." she added returning to her desk.

Nara took the PADD and nodded before turning to leave.

"The Offer" Part One

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe
CoE

Mr. Michael McDowell, civilian engineering specialist

***USS Galaxy: Main Engineering***

Her office was a frenzy of activity, bodies everywhere. Leaning back as another ensign passed her so quickly that his wake almost knocked her off balance; she rocked on the balls of her feet until he was out of the way. She took in another deep breath, she had made the requests for the changes to the office, yet she hadn't anticipated how quickly Jamson would have got the task started. She just hoped that everything would be sorted by the time she got back. Secretly she was looking forward to it. This room was going to be hers, her taste, her decorations, her bat'leth hanging behind that desk - although it wouldn't be 'that' desk, she thought looking at it with distaste.

With the modifications there would be no trace of Suder, no trace of O'Shea or Grey. She had nothing against any of them; each in their own right had been a pleasure (some of the time) to work for. But this room was hers now, it came with the territory, her territory, she didn't want to feel distracted in this room - that would in essence serve as a sanctuary from Main Engineering, give her a place to work in peace on reports, departmental changes, crew evaluations… crikey, this job entailed a lot. She took another deep breath, for a second she mused that she might have taken up the required oxygen for at least five crew members today in her attempt to stay calm. She couldn't go off on one like she had done as a junior officer. She had to project an air of authority, discipline and above all… sanity!

Running a hand through her ruffled hair in order to smooth it back into place and look slightly presentable, she tapped her combadge, =^= "Eshe to McDowell." =^= she called out.

["McDowell here. Go ahead."]

=^= "Please come to my office right away." =^=

["Alright, I'll be there in five minutes."]

Nodding to herself she scanned the room for a moment, her eyes narrowed slightly as she contemplated just what it was she was looking for. With a slight exclamation of 'ah' she strode across the office and retrieved the data padd she had been handed earlier from the shelf on the far wall where she had left it.

The door was already open to allow the work detail easy access as they gutted the office; Dhani therefore did not hear Michael enter. Staring at the padd intently she grimaced at it, closing her eyes with disappointment. As she opened her eyes once more her gaze immediately centered upon Michaels form as he came up to stand before her. She smiled at him, although this wasn't a social call so she couldn't hug him - which now upon seeing him, was all that she wanted to do. He was her rock in a storm, her anchor, and right now she could use that. She knew that if she just reached out he would be there and his embrace alone would sooth her and give her focus. However she had a lot to do before she could hand over Engineering and pack for her excursion with Kimberly, and not a lot of time to do everything in. ~Always the way!~ she griped.

"I would say take a seat, but as you can see…" she gestured, no longer aware of the data padd that had been in her hand awaiting her approval for at least the last five minutes, "there's no where to sit!"

He smiled and sported a grin with it. "Well, that was to be expected. Oh, and don't say I didn't warn you." He stepped aside when a Lieutenant removed a few chairs.

"Warn me?" Dhani queried frowning.

Michael raised a brow in an almost Vulcan manner. "You've told me you were thinking about 'redecorating' your office, right? I have a distinct memory of you and me talking about it... and me telling you what 'chaos' it would bring." He pointed at the all stuff that lay around.

"Oh yeah." Dhani said with a wave of her hand, "Sorry it's been a busy day, and I'm a little caught up in it all." she smiled softly with a look that conveyed her exhaustion. It wouldn't have been so bad, she supposed, if she hadn't agreed to be Kimberly's aeroshuttle Engineer in the upcoming 'Great Starship Race'. She shrugged at him with a half smile. "Anyway," she began, "I'm afraid that I haven't requested you down here to help with the color scheme." she refrained from grinning at him, knowing full well that he was not keen on her choice for a deep crimson red office. "We need to talk business." she informed him, slipping into a professional tone.

"Problems?" Michael asked just as seriously. "I know that work on the Starboard is behind schedule, but Lieutenant Jackson thinks it'll be ready in 4 hours."

"No." Dhani replied shaking her head, "I already have that report." she waggled the padd in her hand, "I want to talk to you about your career." she paused purposely letting that hang there while she ordered them both a drink from the replicator. Returning to his side she offered him the beverage, staying totally silent as she crossed the room and perched on the edge of the desk. Tilting her head she regarded him, noting how his body language had changed since she mentioned 'business'.

"Career? I'm not sure if I follow you here." Michael warmed his hands on the hot Raktajino.

Dhani smiled softly into her drink as she sipped it, wondering how to phrase what she was going to say. She took yet another deep breath and licked her lips, "Michael, it was over a year ago, seventeen months approximately, that me and you covertly infiltrated an Orion vessel to obtain the details of why you were set up and demoted, which I recall was your reasoning for leaving Starfleet, correct?"

Michael nodded. "Yes, and I remember it vividly. As far as I know the evidence that cleared me is still in Starfleet's possession but I haven't heard from them since we handed it over to them."

Dhani nodded slowly. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"What am I going to do about it!?" He looked up. Anger shimmered through from behind his eyes. "I'd say the ball is in their court. It was them that ignored the truth, closed their eyes against justice... and apparently still do! They screwed up, not I!"

Dhanishta simply blinked over the mug. She pursed her lips for a moment in contemplation. Before speaking she set the mug aside and stood up. She understood the anger he contained, he had been done a disservice, punished for it unduly and then after having to fight to get justice, it was apparent that justice in his case wasn't swift, as it should be.

"Mr. McDowell," Dhani said, her tone and body language shifting some what, "I put it to you that in order to get what you want; you need to fight for it."

Mr. The way she addressed him now sounded so distant. He was proud of Dhani that she made Chief Engineer, but at times like this he wished it was not so, because of their relationship. It didn't make it easy for them to have a normal working relationship. "Well, I'm tired of fighting. I've contacted the JAG department several times and got nothing. I wrote several appeals, and again got nothing. It's like I run into a brick wall every time I try."

Dhani regarded him for a moment. He was shy, this she knew all too well. He was never forthcoming with his own desires, never pushed for what he really wanted.

"Please answer this question honestly," she hesitated a moment, there were several questions here and she had to pick one, she had to get to the heart of the matter, she knew what she wanted but she couldn't push her desires on him, "what do *you* want?" she asked.

"You know what I want. I've never kept that secret from you." His drink had gotten cold so he placed it on the small table that was still standing in the Office.

"Then tell me again." she replied slightly curt.

Michael looked down and briefly closed his eyes. "This is pointless." He mumbled. He looked straight into Dhani's eyes then went on, "You know how I feel about it! I still believe in Starfleet, its ideals, and values. Why else do you think I stayed on the ship while we went to war with the Hydrans?"

~Because of me~ was Dhanishtas initial, instinctual, reply to that question. However, this was not about her, it was about him. She had a proposal for him, and there was not one other person in the Fleet that would want to see him rightfully returned to his position and his recorded cleared than she.

Instead of answering she simply bypassed that question. Turning from him she walked round the desk and opened the top draw. Setting down the padd she currently held she pulled out another and activated it. "Michael," she said as she scanned the information it contained, "I have here your service record." she mumbled slightly as she thumbed through it, apparently changing the topic.

"And?" It was a bit of a blunt question, but Michael truly had no idea why Dhani had looked up his Service record. As far as he could see it wouldn't help getting him back into the Fleet.

She didn't even look up, she had indeed noted the curt reply, but let it slide; for now, he was still a civilian. "You joined the Academy when you were 22, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right. I entered the Academy in September 2369." Michael kept his answer short and simple. He wondered where this was leading to.

Dhani nodded, "Your first application was rejected. And so you went to the Institute for Advanced Physics in Antwerp and reapplied the following year."

"That's also true. There I worked on new models for warp field compression using a Z-axis of 24 degrees or less."

She nodded, "In 2373 you joined the USS Galaxy engineering department. You were promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade that same year." Dhani continued as she walked back round the desk to the same side as Michael, "In 74 you were promoted to Assistant Chief of Engineering under the command of Ethan Suder." She looked up at him then, yet only for a second. "In October of 75 you were promoted to a Full Lieutenant." She paused to thumb through the record, "In 76 you were involved in an accident that rendered you in a two month coma." she paused at that, her head snapping up. She had never had access to these reports, never knew that he had been in a coma!

"The Offer" Part Two of Two

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe
CoE

Mr. Michael McDowell, civilian engineering specialist

***USS Galaxy: Main Engineering***

She nodded, "In 2373 you joined the USS Galaxy engineering department. You were promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade that same year." Dhani continued as she walked back round the desk to the same side as Michael, "In 74 you were promoted to Assistant Chief of Engineering under the command of Ethan Suder." She looked up at him then, yet only for a second. "In October of 75 you were promoted to a Full Lieutenant." She paused to thumb through the record, "In 76 you were involved in an accident that rendered you in a two month coma." she paused at that, her head snapping up. She had never had access to these reports, never knew that he had been in a coma!

Michael looked slightly surprised. "Something not right?" He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary until now, so he wondered what made Dhani react the way she did.

She shook her head and took a moment to breathe before reading on, "Once coming out of the coma it was discovered that you had amnesia and could not remember the previous year of your life." ~Shit!~ Dhani thought, this could have been a really bad idea. But she had started now, she had to press on. Composing herself she continued, she couldn't let this information affect her personal life with Michael, "You underwent three months of physical therapy on medical leave before returning to light duties. Despite this you were promoted in September of 76 to Lieutenant Commander. Turning down this promotion after ten weeks." pausing once more to inhale she perched upon the edge of the desk again and continued, "In 77 you requested a transfer for 'personal reasons' and left the Galaxy, taking up service on the USS Windsor as their Assistant Chief of Engineering. You were demoted that same year, following an incident on a civilian freighter, and later that same year transferred to Utopia Planitia on Mars. 79 you returned to the USS Galaxy and in 2380 you left the Fleet to find a way to clear your name regarding the previous mentioned incident." After reciting his service record she set the padd aside and crossed her arms, allowing her eyes to center on him as she tilted her head in a slightly quizzical manor.

"Well, there you have it. My life in a nutshell." Michael said dryly and crossed his arms. "That said, I'm not sure I understand why we had to go through my Service Record. Care to... enlighten me?"

"From this record I deduce that you have wanted a career in Starfleet since you were a young man." It was strange thinking of him as a young man. She didn't think of him as old now. It was difficult to imagine him as a young boy; there was an entire part of his life that she knew absolutely nothing about. She chided herself for being so naive as to not realize that earlier. It was just something she hadn't considered, she knew Michal now, as he was, now. For him to have been any other way was a concept that she had never given any thought. She still had a lot to discover about him.

A smile crept over Michael's face. He remembered exactly the moment that had triggered that wish. "Even before that, since I saw the USS Hood passing by when I was 9 years old."

She repressed the urge to smile at his childhood memory and pressed on, "You were promoted quickly, your achievements, capabilities and potential was recognized, in fact I'll quote," she said picking back up the padd, "Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder reported that he found your performance to be well above standard and that you had earned the respect of all in the Engineering Department for your technical expertise."

She slid the padd back on the table. "You held the Assistant Chief position on this ship for several years. It says here that you turned down the promotion to Lieutenant Commander because you felt your knowledge was impaired due to the coma and subsequent memory loss." she looked into his eyes, "That tells me that you were an officer of integrity. You put the needs of the ship and its crew before your own personal goals for advancement."

"It's what any officer would do. I took an oath to Starfleet and the Federation and I took that very seriously."

"I don't doubt for a second that you have forgotten the oath you made to uphold the ethics of the Federation. I think that in your own way you are still trying to uphold those duties you held as an officer of Starfleet now, as a civilian?"

"Old habits..." Michael mumbled softly. "You can't deny what you believe in. Nothing strange about that."

Dhanishta nodded and allowed herself to smile at that. "Throughout your career you worked hard, not just that but in doing so you fought for what you wanted. When rejected by the Academy you went away, studied hard and returned more determined than you had been. You threw yourself into the Academy program and excelled. You then put that enthusiasm into your work, here, on this ship. Your record reflects that. Yet what I don't understand is why you are so complacent now. You risked your life," ~and mine!~ she added silently, "to obtain the information to prove your innocence. You left the Fleet in order to do so, you crossed the galaxy to get it and yet here you are, being complacent. If I were you I would have been picketing Starfleet headquarters by now, having prior gone to the Captain and obtained his assistance *and* sat outside the JAG Officer's door for months on end until she listened to me." She regarded him coldly for a moment, watching and gauging his reactions to her words.

Michael said nothing and just sighed. "No one listens, Dhani. I'm just some civilian nobody in this big world of Starfleet. Once we had retrieved all the evidence, and delivered it to the CO of DS5, I tried to play it via the proper channels, convinced it would all be set straight. But wherever I went I bumped into a bureaucratic machine. There's no getting through that. I called people at the Justice Department at Starfleet Command via subspace, sent letters via subspace, but nothing happened. No one even took interest, like the whole subject was taboo. That was when I stopped trying. That was when I reached my limit." Just thinking back about the whole situation made him feel mad. "Geez... I HATE bureaucracy!"

"There are ways to be heard Michael," Dhani bit back, "you just need to know who to go to, and how to go about it. And what's more, you have to want it. Want it with every breath in your body." ~pretty much how I want you~ Dhanishta mused.

"I told you... I want it and I did try to get things my way!" Unable to think about anything else Michael threw his hands in the air. "So, what's you point!?"

"The point?" Dhani repeated with an air of indignation, "I thought that was obvious." she replied sliding off the desk.

"Well, you lost me!"

Turning her back on him she picked up the padd and once more returned to the other side of the desk. Placing his file back in the top draw she picked up the previous padd and once more scanned its contents, nodding at the information it contained she added her approval and then looked back up at Michael. Her expression was plain, her body language cold as she regarded him.

Michael looked back with the same icy stare. He couldn't remember the last time they had such an argument. This was not what he wanted. "If there's nothing else..." he turned on his heels toward the exit of the Office.

"The position for Assistant Chief Engineer on the USS Galaxy is vacant." she said flatly.

He stopped. A second passed where neither of them said a word. "I'm sure you'll find someone. I can't help you with that."

"You are the most qualified candidate. You have held the position before; you know this ship and its crew. Frankly I don't see anyone else that comes close to fulfilling the criteria, do you?" she asked looking up at him.

"Hey, I'm truly sorry! I can't help you. Do you listen to me? Besides, I'm a CIVILIAN remember? I can't...-" And that's where it finally hit home. Only now it became clear to him why she'd brought up his Starfleet Service record and why, from a certain point of view, she criticized the fact that he was a civilian and not a Starfleet Officer.

She pursed her lips for a moment and then walked to the door. "Ensign," she called to a passing crewman, "see that the Captain gets this status report." Standing in the doorway she regarded Michael once more.

"Think about it Michael." she said, "If you want to get back into Starfleet, when I get back from the race I will go with you to the Captain, and the JAG officer. I am prepared to fight for you, but only if you are prepared to fight for yourself first."

She knew that her earlier words sounded harsh, that during the entire meeting she had come across cold. Yet if her words had angered him, and that in turn caused him to really think about what he was doing, then it was worth it, "Think of the years you spent studying. All that dedication and hard work that you devoted to your career in Starfleet." she shook her head slowly, "All of that: wasted. You were set up, and I know how much that pains you. But Starfleet didn't cause this injustice. It was *not* their fault. Your petitions are caught up in so much legal red tape that unless you do something, unless you fight; and by that I don't mean subspace letters, I mean really fight," she emphasized with passion. It was odd, yet as she spoke she stepped forward, her clenched fist rising and swiftly falling to punctuate her points, "nothing will happen. I am prepared to stand up beside you, to go to M'kantu, to go to the President of the UFP if that's what it takes. I will fight for you, and I will not stop until you have what you deserve." by now she was only a few feet from him, "All I am asking from you is that same passion. I risked my life for you, to help obtain that evidence. The others, risked their *careers* and their *lives* to help you. Don't throw that back in their faces, in *my* face; just because of your complacency and aggravation over bureaucracy." she snorted staring at him.

Again that silence. That awkward silence that fell between them and lasted for what seemed like minutes. Something inside him told him that she was right. Michael felt it and although he didn't agree with her on all points and didn't want to admit he had been wrong all along, he had to. He hadn't really fought to get Justice done. He'd disgraced his friends.

He looked down once again, but now in shame. A tear forming when he looked up at Dhani. If it were anyone else standing before him he would've never permitted that to happen. Not in this situation.

"Do you really think it's possible...?"

Dhanishta smiled softly, "I think anything is possible if you put your mind to it." she replied gently, her voice full of warmth and compassion.

Without checking to see if anyone was around she crossed the remaining distance and slowly brought her arms up to rest on his shoulders. She hesitated for a second, but he was, at the moment, a civilian and her partner. She pulled him to her and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a reassuring embrace. She smiled slightly with regret; she should have done this months ago. She should have pushed him back then, when his determination was still fresh. Yet she too had been complacent, too wrapped up in her own problems. She closed her eyes as she rested her chin on his shoulder. Her hand reached up to gently caress the base of his neck, relishing the feel of his hair through her fingertips. "It won't be easy." she whispered in his ear, "I can not promise you anything, except one thing." she pulled back from the embrace and took hold of his chin, turning his face towards hers, "I will be by your side throughout."

"The Reveal" Part One

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - CoE
Michael McDowell - Civilian Engineering Specialist
First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO SFMC Furies

***USS Galaxy crew quarters deck 8***

Standing in the open doorway that lead to their room Dhanishta huffed, arms folded across her chest, data padd sticking out by her hip, "You're wrong!" she said again, slightly more agitated than before, although the playfulness was still in her tone.

"I'm not. Not this time." Michael answered quickly. To his dismay this all sounded a bit too childish.

Crossing the living room she paused in her step rapping the padd against her left palm, "You have no basis in fact Mikey, admit it, this is all just a hunch." she said plainly looking over at him, her face as neutral as she could get it.

Michael sat back on the couch, "Well, okay, if that's what you want to call it then fine. I don't care."

Tossing the padd onto the table she smirked slightly and tiptoed softly to the couch, crouching down on her approach she knelt on the floor next to him and began to 'walk' her fingers up the button line of his shirt.

"But you just keep hiding from the truth if you ask me." He said nonchantly before turning his face away from Dhani and back to the padd, continuing to skim read the previous chapter of his book.

Dhani pouted and sat back on her haunches for a moment. Her mocked peeved expression did not hold out for long. Quickly she grabbed a cushion off the couch, slipped the data padd out from between his fingers and proceeded to thwack him round the head with it.

When the cushion hit him the first time there was nothing but a surprised looked on his face. His head snapped around to look at Dhani expecting her to be frustrated by his behavior. Nothing was further from the truth. In fact, the playful grin on her face was so infectious that he was unable to keep himself from smiling. "Hey, you..." He grabbed a small pillow for himself, his intention being obvious. "You...little...imp! Come here...I got something for you!"

She moved just out of reach grinning deviously at him before leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. With the book discarded she wormed her way up on the couch with him, all the while kissing him repeatedly.

It looked like the game had changed and, truth be told, Michael was more than willing to play along. Now more than ever since it had been more than a month since they last had been together. He pulled her near and at the same time thought that this couch needed to be bigger. He kissed her back with such a passion that would tell her how much he'd missed her. A naughty grin appeared on his face when he said with a soft voice, "Wanna play?"

Pulling back she grinned once more before replacing her smile with as innocent a look as possible, she worked her hand under his shirt and began to tickle his side, before beginning her all out assault. Maneuvering herself atop him she pinned him to the couch, grinning like mad as he struggled beneath her laughing hysterically, unable to make a full word let alone a sentence she tickled him mercilessly.

Michael tried to get her off of him but he failed to do so. He was almost out breath when he made his last attempt, and all the while he kept on laughing until at one point he almost screamed. She knew exactly where tickle him and took full advantage of it.

The door chime sounded interrupting their play fight and Dhanishta frowned. She leaned down and kissed Michael once more, "Saved by the bell tiger!" she whispered in his ear before nibbling on it seductively.

"Next time, I'm on top." He answered in-between deep breaths and winked. ~Darn chime. Typical that it did go off right now!~

*** His head still hurt like crazy, but according to the quacks in sickbay he was fine. More then fine even. According to the monitors he was in the best shape of his life. Then why the hell didn't he feel like it? Why did he feel like his head was going to explode?

They had asked him if he had remembered anything that had happened to him. He had said no. And so it started. Lies. He remembered it all. Down to how his flesh had smelled when the bolt had struck him. There was anger deep inside of him. Anger at what had happened, to him and to... everything.

He wasn't like Victor. There was no aura of doom and death around him. Some would never even sense what was wrong. Some would and... he didn't know what would happen then.

Stumbling over to the door having untangled herself from Michael Dhani turned back to him before opening it. Her look conveyed *exactly* what she wanted to do with him yet she had to shelf that idea.

Visitors came first, unless they were already doing 'that', in which case they could bugger off - she certainly wouldn't stop to answer the door, it would be rude! Depressing the door panel she giggled as the door opened, turning to see who the visitor was she was totally surprised when as soon as the door slid open a closed fist connected with her face. The punch was fast and brutal, sending her head whipping back.

Staggering, Dhani reached out to the wall, anything to steady herself. Her vision blurred, everything was bright for a moment - a flash of light followed by intense pain as her neck cracked. She felt a trail of heat make its way up her spine dissipating with a burst, just like a fire in the base of head. She yelped, unable not to, as she wobbled on her feet, trying to assess which way was up and which was down. She felt a hand on her shoulder, along with a rush of emotion that was not her own upon the contact.

It took a moment before Michael noticed what happened but a split second later he'd got up from the couch. "HEY!! What the HELL do you think you are doing!?" he shouted, having crossed the room in what appeared to be just one stride. At Dhani's side he began to survey her injuries.

Dhani's vision returned all be it blurred and tainted red. Her hands instinctively had gone to protect the wounded area; her nose. Fingers clasped round, cocooning it as blood poured down her face and through her fingertips.

The smell of blood hit his nose and almost made him loose it. He was balancing over an abyss and sooner or later he would fall. He stepped inside with silvery glowing eyes watching what was happening within.

Looking at Dhani he could sense something else. Something.. familiar. Or at least he knew it would be if he allowed himself to know. But that meant something he wasn't prepared to do or be. Ignoring the others in the room he looked at Dhani, a part of him challenging that other side of her to emerge for round two. "Now we're even."

"The Reveal" Part Two

First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO SFMC Furies
Michael McDowell - Civilian Engineering Specialist
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - CoE

***USS Galaxy crew quarters deck 8***

Looking at Dhani he could sense something else. Something... familiar. Or at least he knew it would be if he allowed himself to know. But that meant something he wasn't prepared to do or be. Ignoring the others in the room he looked at Dhani, a part of him challenging that other side of her to emerge for round two. "Now we're even."

Anger build up inside as Michael slowly turned and looked up at the aggressor that stood in the doorway. "You bastard!" the remark was followed by "McDowell to Security..."

"No!" Dhani breathed grabbing Michaels arm, blowing blood bubbles as she spoke. For a moment she eyed Baile as the stabbing pain subsided in her face to a dull ach.

"What!?" Michael gave Dhani a surprised look. His eyes went from her to the, yet unknown, assailant and back again. "You can't be serious..."

"Deadly." She replied to Michael whilst not breaking eye contact with Baile, "Do you have anything else to add?" she asked Baile pushing against the adrenalin surging throughout her body.

He opened his mouth to remind her that he had told her to turn herself in, but who was he to preach? Didn't he have secrets as well? "When ever you want round two - look me up."

Nodding slowly Dhani stepped forward, into his 'personal space'. "I'll keep that in mind." she said softly. "Now get the hell out of my quarters!" her eyes narrowed on him, her tone indicated that she was not by any means making a request. She stood her ground, her face just inches from his. She felt something within her stir, the memory of him on his knees, begging for his life... well, not quite begging. Baile wouldn't beg for anything, but he did plead; to reach her, make her realize what she was doing - and that she remembered, with clarity.

Her nostrils flared as she took in shallow breaths, her body more prepared for an attack, so much so that standing still she shook with the anticipation of a fight. She swallowed hard as he just stood there, as if he didn't want to leave, wasn't going to leave! She wasn't sure. And she sure as hell wasn't going to poke about inside his mind to find out. She already knew too much...

Anger and fear. They may feel similar at times but they differed like day and night when it came to how they smelled. Dhani's smell changed from anger to fear in the span of a few heartbeats. He met her gaze evenly. "You. Out." It left no room for doubt or disobedience. It was the same voice that made the marines run for cover.

Dhanishta frowned, wincing slightly with the pain that caused as Michael looked on confused.

Touching Dhani's arm, nothing but concern on his face, Michael questioned her silently via their telepathic bond. ~What's going on here?~

Dhanishta didn't reply, she kept her dark eyes fixed on Baile. She had no idea what he meant. And she certainly wasn't going any where with him.

"Barbie. The clock is ticking. When it reaches zero you better be out of here."

"Think again, pal. Just ONE more word from you and I *will* call security." Michael stated menacingly and forcibly, stepping forward and in-between Baile and Dhani. He cast an eye back to her, irritated by her behavior. Why she hadn't let him call them in the first place was beyond him. What also caught his attention was the feelings that emanated from her. Michael had been in quiet a few situations of danger with Dhani, yet he had never felt fear from her; at least not like this. ~Dhani, tell me what the hell is going on! This is going the wrong way!~ he yelled.

Yet still, Dhani did not answer him, not verbally, nor via their bond. Slowly her hand rested on Michael's shoulder, moving him aside gently. "You leave him out of this and you might just have a deal." she told Baile.

"That's up to them." he replied. The smell of fear was still strong. "The clock is still ticking and we got things to talk about. You sure you want them to hear what I got to say?"

"Them?" Dhanishta repeated. "Baile, what are you talking about?" he was cracking up!

His head pounded mercilessly. Letting out the anger now would be a one way ticket to a very warm place. "Want to see just how good that self control of yours is? Let's find out what happens to him when you're no longer driving the bus." His pulse started slowing down. Couldn't his damn body understand what he was trying to do? He didn't want to fight. He would do anything to avoid it but his damn body just didn't get it.

Dhani cast an uneasy glance towards Michael. She knew now what Baile was talking about, or at least she thought she did. For a moment her hesitation was clear. She couldn't let Michael see what Baile had seen. She had to protect Michael at all costs from that. She knew that he could sense things through their bond - more in fact than she desired, she had given herself completely to him and that way. Yet even so, she would rather die than let him know what dwelt within her. The sleepless nights she caused him due to her restlessness was the only thing she could guiltlessly let him endure.

Yet something that Victor had said recently played upon her mind 'If you suppress it, bury it, try to deny it then it will still get out - and you'll have no control over it. Whatever it was that came out on Romulus, whatever part of yourself that you don't want to acknowledge or deal with... acknowledge it. Deal with it. Accept that it's a part of you.'

Loosing self control, it was not something that Dhani ever chose to do. "You want to fight me Baile?" she asked.

"You want him to know?" he replied. He could feel his own control slipping. That which was within Dhani beckoned at him. Mocking him with its very existence. There was something deep within him, very deep, that demanded he end her now. It made him want to scream.

"Do you?" she countered feeling her body shaking. It wasn't anticipation, no, this was fear. She wouldn't admit it though, not to him. She wasn't scared of them finding out about her... more like what he would *do* to her.

"I don't give a shit which. All it does is add to the bodycount." Why the hell couldn't she just send him out? They both knew that thing inside of her wouldn't just sit idly by if he started to talk.

She was at a crossroads, unsure of what to do. Did you let the monster in willingly? She closed her eyes for a second. She could feel Bailes energy; she could see him just like she had on Romulus. Through her closed eyelids she could see the shape of his form, like the images that blazed in her mind, he refused to go away. Confront it...

"Michael leave." Dhani said sternly.

"But.." Michael interjected.

"Leave!" Dhani raised her voice her eyes snapping open and resting on his face.

Long seconds passed before Michael slowly began to leave their Quarters. The look on his face showed anger and concern. He didn't want to leave, but there was something in Dhani's voice that forced him to do so.

"The Reveal" Part Three

First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO SFMC Furies
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - CoE

***USS Galaxy crew quarters deck 8***

Long seconds passed before Michael slowly began to leave their Quarters. The look on his face showed anger and concern. He didn't want to leave, but there was something in Dhani's voice that forced him to do so.

"Sit down Baile." Dhani said her eyes fixed on him, "Make yourself comfortable."

He heard the door slide shut behind him. Her offer went ignored as he simply crouched down. From there he could move fast if needed. It took him a second to realize what he had done and stood up again. "I'll stand."

"Fine." Dhani replied coldly. Without taking her eyes from him she crossed the room and ordered a drink from the replicator. "Do you want one?" she questioned, though her tone was less than inviting.

"No thank you." he shook his head. She still smelled of fear. Baile couldn't understand that completely. He had scared her, yes, but hell - so had she. Did he smell of fear as well? "We need to talk."

Dhanishta looked across the distance she had put between them. She knew that he could cross it in an instant if he chose to. Although for some reason the distance still gave her comfort. It was illogical, and she knew it. Feelings were illogical, fear was illogical, all of this… she silenced her mind and rose her head slightly, "Then talk." she said in a no nonsense tone, she did not however move from the replicator. In fact she leaned against it, almost casually, though her heart was pounding in her chest, and he could hear it… just like she could hear his. She shook her head. Control. She was in control, not him, not…her… it... Dhanishta was in control…. She took a sip from her drink and stared at him over the rim of the glass.

He crossed his arms, trying to ignore the headache. "I need to know who's in control." Baile said to her. "Don' try to lie. I'll know if you do." He had no idea if that was the case or not, but a little bluffing had never hurt.

She frowned, "Who's in control… of me, or you?"

"Don't play games, Dhani. It won't end well."

"Games!" she repeated slightly hysterical, completely missing the fact that he had just called her by her name instead of Dorothy or Sally or Barbie. "Correct me if I am wrong, in fact don't correct me because I know I am right. It was you that entered *my* quarters, assaulted *me* and now you accuse *me* of playing games!" she snorted back a mocking laugh.

Placing the drink back in the replicator she strode across the room agitated and annoyed. Slamming her palms down on the table she vented a small amount of her frustration, and a smidge of the adrenaline that was attempting to replace the blood in her veins, and bellowed at him, "WHAT DO YOU WANT BAILE?" Her holler vibrated through her arms causing the objects on the glass table top to shudder. Her eyes deviated from his form momentarily to assess that this was indeed the only thing between them… a glass table. She backed up from it, its symbolism to recent events not lost on her. Folding her arms she straightened up and swallowed hard.

"Again I ask. Who's in control?" he asked calmly, trying to force his damn body to calm down. He could smell adrenaline on her. A smell so sweet like the tears of angels.

"I am." Dhanishta replied slowly eyeing him, "And who's controlling you Baile?" She could feel herself relaxing somewhat. It was a strange feeling. Her muscles had been so tense and she knew, she could feel that she was prepared yet … something else, something within was 'happy' with this sensation… it knew this feeling. This feeling of terror; it was one with it, felt at home to be with it.

Dhanishta knew, or at least she thought she knew what part of her it was that liked that feeling, that longed for it, to cause it, to feel it emanate all around like a poisoned mist. An image flashed through her mind of Romulus and the dead Hydrans. Body upon body, all of them unharmed, no blood, no wounds… nothing to show the casual observer how they died. She left no mark, non that could be seen. But Baile had. He knew how they died, each and every one of them. From one field of death to another, from one play ground to another. One his, the other hers. A spark! A thought… she looked into his eyes for a moment, unfazed by the brightness, "You were afraid of me." she stated as the realization hit.

She frowned at him, not waiting for an answer she began to pace slightly, a small concentric circle around the armchair that was positioned close to the table. "When you kill… you don't remember. You feel the urge, you can't control it. You use every ounce of your muscular strength to kill, you use any object at your disposal, whether that be your hands or a weapon." she looked towards him, "Yet I didn't. I didn't touch any of them and that… that terrifies you more than what you are turning into." She stopped and faced him fully, "Doesn't it?"

"You're right. I was scared." Baile replied honestly. "But don't try and take the credit for it because you weren't doing the scaring. A psychopathic Dithparu did." There were other factors as well but for now those weren't important. "Right now you're not even a tremor on my shitlist. Make sure to stay that way."

Dhanishta rolled her head back and roared with laughter. For a moment something other than her was extremely amused. "So I'm a Dithparu am I?" she asked with traces of ridiculousness in her tone.

He moved before he even knew he did. His hand didn't grab her by the throat but by the neck of her uniform. The sweet spots he had always been able to see practically glowed on her body. He tore her up from the ground until her feet dangled in the air. "Doesn't really matter what the fuck it is…" he whispered calmly, "For your own sake, Betty, you better stay in control…"

Dhani simply laughed, grating and haggard as the collar of her uniform tightened, constricting her air flow. She had to admit it was unusual to laugh while dangling in the air, held up by only the strength of another. Though it could be classed as nervous laughter, Dhani hoped it was just that and not 'something' else. "If I am a Dithparu, what the hell does that make you?" she asked hoarsely looking down into his eyes.

"It makes me the meanest fucker on the block." he replied with a sarcastic smile. He lifted her even further from the floor, holding her with one hand now. The other closed into a tight ball. Death had made three buttons on her body. All he would have to do was to press one of them.

Dhanishtas smile wavered, faltered as she hung in his grip. This was better than being strangled, she had to admit. Though she could feel his intentions, and there was nothing to smile about that! Her breath was irregular, her heart beat strong and fast, though he wasn't choking her his grip still affected her. She knew she could get out of this, though she debated what would happen if she let herself go. Who would be walking and talking if she just touched upon her talents? Could she just brush past the darkness, or would that slight connection unleash her?

As she felt Bailes clenched fist twist the scruff of her uniform, tightening it, hampering her ability to breathe even more, she realized that time was not a luxury she had. His eyes told her nothing of his intentions but the expression of lust on his face did. He wanted her. She could see his muscles rippling under his shirt with the exertion of holding back. She could see the veins in his other fist rise and pulse underneath his skin. He was going to kill her.

Right here, right now, with no rhyme or reason, he would do it. She could almost hear his thoughts. He was trying to repress it, yet it was stronger than he. It was deep within, completely mixed, fused into his genetic structure - and it was growing.

Staring at him she made the choice - consequences be dammed. Focusing her mind on Baile she drove a wedge between them, forcing him towards the other side of the room.

"The Reveal" Part Four

First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO SFMC Furies
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - CoE

***USS Galaxy crew quarters deck 8***

Staring at him she made the choice - consequences be dammed. Focusing her mind on Baile she drove a wedge between them, forcing him towards the other side of the room.

She dropped to the floor, managing to land shakily on her feet, while Bailes body soared across her quarters.

He hit the wall with a resounding thud and felt pain for a brief second before it got cut off. Even that short burst of pain made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Baile crouched down on the floor until the pain had vanished. A second later he stood up again, brushing the dust off his pants. "Is that all you got?" Baile said calmly. It felt strange. The more dangerous it became the calmer he became. When the hell had that started? "You're proving me right, Betty. You're starting to take the easy path and soon there won't be any other."

"Look who's talking." Dhani shot back staring venomously at him. Her smile had faded. She trembled as she leaned against the wall to rub her ankle; the landing having jarred the bone somewhat. For a second she registered that her nose no longer hurt… though that was probably because she was preoccupied with making sure that the marine in her quarters didn't kill her.

She looked up at him, her expression changing as a mixture of emotions swirled within. She felt sorry for him, compassion and empathy. She couldn't say that she liked him, nor that she disliked him, though she suddenly remembered the pang that punctured her heart when she saw his body fall to the ground; steaming from the blast from the Hydrans rifle. She remembered how she had rushed to his side and attempted to quell the bleeding - tried anything she could think of to save his life, though she had no skill in medical apparently she had done the right thing - applied pressure to the wound.

"Jebidiah." Dhani said locking eyes with him, she took a hesitant step forward, after the one she continued with more assertiveness until she came to stand before him. Tossing caution to the wind she reached out and touched the point on his chest where the Hydran bolt had struck him. "Your blood stained my hands for week's after." she said softly, her expression changing to one of pain, sorrow and regret. "Michael collapsed not long after you were shot down. The battle had ended, I remember everyone cheered. You missed it."

Slowly her hand trailed from his chest, her eyes following it down until it disconnected from his body. "I remember how you helped me down there. Even though you didn't want to, you still did. I know there were times that you wanted to kill me. There were many times you had the opportunity to do so, yet still, you didn't. And I remember how you reached me when I, she, tried to kill you." Dhani had no idea why she was telling him all this, for some reason she felt a connection to him. They had been through a lot together, even if neither of them wanted to admit it - in a way they needed each other, even if it only was for the understanding. "You remember that, don't you?" she asked softly, "On your knees before me, pleading with me for your life."

He had taken her through territory where she wouldn't have survived for long. He had kept her away from the Hydrans until the shit had hit the fan. She was right. He could have killed her at any moment when they were trying to avoid the Hydrans. He did remember. He remembered a lot of things, things that made no sense. But had he pleaded for his life? "You're wrong…" he said quietly.

Dhanishta shook her head slowly, "No I'm not." she replied. She tilted her head regarding him for a moment, "In your mind you wouldn't beg for anything. Yet I remember what you said, you called for *me* to return. *That* I remember." she said softly raising an eyebrow in a questioning manor.

He shook his head. "I didn't plead for my life." His alien eyes looked at her. The moment he put the feeling into thoughts he knew it was the truth. "You are many things, Dhani, but you're not like me. Maybe you wouldn't have remembered killing me but eventually you would have. It wasn't you that tried to kill me, but it was you that would have to live with it and I couldn't accept that."

"No, it's you that doesn't understand." Dhani replied swallowing hard, "I have seen it, over and over. And it's always me!" she almost screamed. Tears formed in her eyes, she had never spoken about this to anyone, yet him; from the moment she had met him had the ability to draw this out of her.

And for once she wasn't going to fight it, "I dream about them all the time. I see their faces; I can hear their thoughts, feel their thoughts. There is one that is vivid, so vivid that it haunts me whether I am sleeping or awake, her death I see like a bad holo-novel on repeat. She stands before me, she is a *child*." she emphasized her pain clear in her tone, the expression on her face and her stance as she lurched forward towards him, "No more than six. She stares at me and I know that she knows what I am going to do. Yet she doesn't run, she doesn't scream. Just stands there. And in the next minuet she is lying broken against the wall, and I know that *every* bone in her body is broken, because I can *feel* it, like it's happening to me"

A tear fell from her left eye, rolled down her cheek and splashed on to her uniform when it soaked into the fabric, "I can feel the blood trickle down *my* nose, as I watch it trickle from hers. I can see myself through her eyes, me looking down at her, as she is looking up at me. I can *feel* everything she feels *and* what it is like to kill her. It's simple Jebidiah, so simple." she said exasperated by its simplicity, "It's just a thought and boom: their dead."

She pleaded for him to understand, "I remember the field of bodies, I remember doing it, I remember feeling everything they felt when they died. And I remember how it felt to take them… euphoric." she whispered. Stepping back, scared that that last word was too much, she trembled as she waited for him to say something, anything…

Baile looked at her with a blank expression on his face. He knew that if he struck her just to the side of her head the way she stood, she would die. It was a strange conflict inside. He had never backed down from protecting the Federation and its citizens, but now he felt an almost overwhelming desire, no - need - because it felt the right thing to do, to kill her.

But what was it he wanted to kill? Dhani or who ever it was that took control? For a brief period, that lasted between a second and eternity, something other than the human looked at Dhani. "You are dangerous." the thing that looked at Dhani said.

"It would be better for everyone, including yourself if I ended you here and now." But he remained relaxed, which all in all - didn't say much. He paused and looked at her again. "You need help and maybe I can give it to you."

Dhanishtas head tilted to the side once more, like a puppy confused at its maters orders. Her eyes searched his face, probing him, questioning him. "Jebidiah, I know that…" she trailed off for a moment unable to say the words, yet she had to force herself to do so, to admit to what she had done, to what she was, "I am a murderer." she said finally staring at the floor between them.

"But does that mean I should die too?" she asked her eyes snapping back to his, "You have killed, no strike that; slaughtered. There are other's on this ship that have done exactly the same as us. Who are you to cast judgment upon me?"

"Forging The Sword"

Flt. Admiral Victor Murdock, CinC, Starfleet (Pat)
Admiral Morgan Grey, Commandant, Starfleet Academy (Kate)

---------------------
Office of the CinC,
Starfleet Headquarters
San Francisco, Earth
----------------------

There were days, honestly, that Victor Murdock wished he'd stayed dead.

Or, put more bluntly, that he wished that his death had been for real and not an elaborate hoax. Days like today, with the news that had just been delivered in regards to Barzan. Or Gyndine. Or Atlantis. Or Ivor. Or any of the three dozen current hot spots.

"Admiral Murdock?" came the voice of his Chief of Staff, Captain Albrecht, over the desk's comm.

"Aye, lad, what d'ye need?" he responded automatically.

"Admiral Grey from Starfleet Academy to see you, sir."

"Send 'er in, lad."

Moments later, the petite silver-haired Dean of Starfleet Academy moved through the doors. She was perfectly put together, just like always; Victor could never remember her with a hair out of place, even in the middle of a battle. She offered a smile and leaned forward, kissing her old friend's cheek.

"Hello, Victor," she said. "You're looking old."

"And it's bloody well deserved, too." he grumbled. He caught his reflection in the glossy black of the desktop for just a moment, and marveled how just shy of two years at this job had turned his hair completely white. He was only in his seventies, after all, but there was hardly a bit of color in there anymore.

"Don't I know it?" Grey asked, setting very carefully into a chair across from the man's desk. She seemed to look around the office for a long moment, thinking before she took a deep breath. "I need a ship, Victor."

"And I need ye at the Academy." he replied immediately. "We've got to move up the accelerated training programs - especially given the news I just for from Barzan."

Grey made a low noise deep in her throat. "I'm doing no good there, Victor. I'm a glorified babysitter. You would think that after one gets into Starfleet Academy, one would be old to cut mother's apron strings. But no. I spend half my day talking to parents and I spend the other half disciplining! I should be in the field. I should never have taken this position. If you hadn't been pretending to be dead... This is your fault you know."

Victor just raised a supremely questioning (and highly doubtful) eyebrow.

"Don't even look at me like that. I'll trade you. That might toss things up a bit, be fun, a change of pace."

"I'm just waitin' to hear how you think any o' this is my fault, lass." the Scotsman replied. He noted Grey didn't even wince at the 'lass'. But then, he'd been calling her that for more than forty years now. She had to've gotten used to it eventually.

"You weren't here to tell me I was being an idiot," she said. "Well. You were. You just adopted this horrible habit of sending horribly cryptic and deeply encrypted messages telling me what I needed to do." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Cheshire." She wrinkled her nose.

That just drew a shrug. "It's hard t' argue the results." he noted. "But now, we've on the verge of open war with the Triad. It's a damned miracle it didn't happen after Romulus, but we bloodied their noses enough to buy a little more time."

"But it's comin, Morgan. It's comin', and I can't make the damned Council see that. The President does, but that's not enough. And now the Borg have withdrawn from the Galaxy accords, and have a foothold in our quadrant at Barzan. The T'Kith'Kin are testing our borders in Atlantis Sector more and more, and it looks like the Breen are providin' tech to the Syndicate over at Gyndine."

"And just t' top it all off, we're gettin rumors of that mystery race of yuirs - the ones ye ran into back on the Arizona - pokin' around our borders again." Starfleet's commander-in-chief sighed heavily. "It's too many fires, Morgan, and not enough ships t'be puttin' em' out."

"Yahnique," Morgan murmured, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure about them, they could go either way, I think they're testing the waters. As far as the Breen and Syndicate... Well. Guess it's not going to be long now. That's our own backyard. Meanwhile these crackerjack politicians are tearing us apart piece by little piece." She cleared her throat. "Victor, I'm just worried. This isn't our Federation anymore. This isn't our Starfleet. It's not like back when we started. All the Captains are these kids. The cadets graduating the academy right now? Are likely to be lieutenant commanders within seven years. Can you imagine? Most of them will barely be thirty if that and they'll be lieutenant commanders."

She made a disgusted face. "There's a Captain in the second Fleet who's all of 26. Twenty-six! Some big war hero. Then there's Jordan Elaithin who's theoretically about thirty four though who knows, really, and she's the Director of the most controversial branch of Starfleet! Do you remember who you were at thirty four? I do. And I don't care if she did come back from the dead, that's no age to be..." She brushed back her silver bangs shaking her head. "It's all damn ridiculous. Enlistment is down across the board, Academy testing is at an all time low and the passing rate of those testing is even lower."

"And we've got no choice but to be pushin' 'em on through." he muttered. He'd seen the recruitment numbers. They were down from the last few years, true enough. Section 31 and the constant political strife between the so-called "Hawks" and "Doves" had badly eroded the public's confidence in the government, and by extension, Starfleet. People were turning more and more to joining their System Defense Fleets, like the Andorian Guard or the Bajoran Militia instead of signing on with Starfleet.

Of course, the absolute numbers were still astronomically higher than they had been before the Dominion War, that was true as well.

But then, so were Starfleet's commitments.

"It's damn frustrating." She brushed at her nose and then sighed, leaning her head back. "There's far too much going on. We need to tighten up, consolidate and..." She shook her head. "Boot out almost all our elected leaders."

He snorted. "And that's the one thing we absolutely will not do." Murdock said, with absolutely no equivocation. "The Articles say they're our leaders right now, Morgan. I swore an oath do uphold those principles, and I'll do it, no matter how many lives it costs." A silent moment passed - he knew she agreed, of course.

Murdock tapped his fingers on the glossy black desktop a moment, a thoughtful expression plastering itself across his features. "Ye serious about wantin' to leave the Academy?"

"I don't want to be," Morgan murmured, "but yeah, I think I'm getting there. I'm doing what I can, Victor, but honestly. With everything else going on? I'm next to useless where I am."

His face grew deadly serious as Murdock focused his stare on his old friend once more. "I'm putting together an offensive fleet." he admitted. "Or restructuring one, I should say. Eighth fleet is going to be our sword, Morgan. A full 145 ships, plus support craft. The flag'll be carried aboard Excalibur, one of the new battlecarriers. I'm going to pull Westmoreland from Atlantis, to be the XO, but I don't have a commander yet."

"No symbolism in *that* name" she muttered, sotto voce. "If it's going to be your baby, Victor, you should have someone you know on the bridge," Morgan said. "Though... If I hadn't come in here, today, who would you have offered this to?"

"I'd been planning to give it to Irene." he said somberly, referring to another old, and mutual friend. It cast a momentary pall over the discussion, however, as Irene DeMercereau had been travelling aboard the Relentless six months ago when that ship had vanished with all hands.

Morgan visibly paled at that as she propped her head up on a raised hand, her elbow on the arm rest of her chair. After a long moment she took a deep breath.

"If you're offering, I'll take it on the condition that Admiral Matazra, the Dean of Students, take my place."

"Done." he nodded. "Effective immediately, you're relieved as Commandant, Starfleet Academy and assigned as Commander, Eighth Fleet. I'll have the orders drawn up this afternoon."

Morgan's jaw tensed and her eyes turned sad again. "Okay," she murmured. "Victor, I..."

He cocked his head to the side for a moment. "Morgan?"

She shook her head. "Never mind. It's nothing." She pulled a small, tight smile. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this."

He waved his hands around, indicating the office they sat in. "Beleive me, lass, if anyone does..."

She nodded once firmly as she stood. "I know." She watched him stand to usher her out and she moved forward, giving her long time friend a tight hug, her eyes closed.

The act effectively dropped the ranks for a moment, and they were just two very old friends. "We'll get through it, Morgan." he said quietly.

"Sometimes I just feel as though I've lost my way," she murmured, voice half muffled against him. She'd been in this place for some times, truth be told; she'd lost most of her family in the horrible attacks at Starbase One. "Like I've forgotten what I'm fighting for."

"The Federation." he answered simply. "We fight for what it is, and we fight for what we want it to be. Always have, always will."

"I know," Morgan said, pushing at half an arms length, her head bowed. "It just sometimes seems as though that fight is getting more and more difficult and that the Federation is further and further from reach."

His response was as decisive as it was instinctive. "The system might get broken from time to time, lass, but there's always someone who'll fix it. And if has to be us, then it'll be us. Easy as that."

"Easy as that," she mimicked. "How're you always so together, Victor? After all we've been through, all you've been through, I envy you that."

That just drew a simple shrug. "It's because I'm a Scotsman, of course. We're all ten feet tall, phaserproof, and too damn stubborn to know when we're licked."

She laughed softly, her laugh mixed with a touch of tears. "That's good enough for me." She looked back up at him. "So Victor, we do I get to see my new ship?"

"She's at Hyperion Yards." he replied, referring to Starfleet's top-secret development facility in orbit over Mercury. "So what're ye doin tonight?"

"I'm opening a very, very rare bottle of wine," Morgan said, "at home in the mountains. I wouldn't mind the company."

"It's a plan, then. Long as ye don't mind Alyanna comin' along, of course." Victor got precious little time to spend with his eight year old daughter as it was, and Morgan knew he capitalized every moment he could.

"Of course," Morgan said, smiling, "you know how I feel about the girl. I still have a bedroom of toys and..." Her voice trailed off. "Yes. It will be good to have children in the house again."

"Good. Now let's go take a look at yuir new boat, shall we?"

"Alli-Quest"

Starring

Crewman Allison
Crewman Barnes (npc)

USS GALAXY
BRIG Administration Offices

"Whadaya mean you dont have it anymore!!!???!!!!"

"Just what I said missy....we aint got it no more."

"I aint your missy bucko, and you've got to have it......you were the guys that took it away from me."

"Maybe.....but it aint in the box, and if it aint in the box then we aint got it no more."

Gritting her teeth in frustration, young Allison gripped the counter top and shook it with anger. Of all the knuckleheaded bureaucatic snafu's..........

"That was a frakking present from my Mother you numbskull !! How can you guys lose it??"

The Brig Supervisor frowned at the tiny temper tantrum that had landed on his desktop. "Well Im shore your mother would be disaproovin of your language little missy....besides I never said we lost it.....I said we aint got it no more."

"Didnt lose it....huh?" Alli took a deep breath, reeling in her frustration and worry. Things would'nt be solved by tearing the place to shreds, but it would be a lot more satisfying.

The Icelandic girl had been bouncing around from department to department trying to track down the little pink electronic planner that had been confiscated from her during a recent 72 hour stay in the brig, and her latest tip had led her here in the Brig Administration offices.

Obviously she hadnt needed the planner during the recent vacation on Risa, but now that she was getting back into the swing of things on the Galaxy, she found that she really needed the small device to help keep her on track.

Unfortunately, while her lipstick, compact and portable music player had been returned to her, the planner was not likewise forthcoming.

"Look....uh....Crewman Barnes." she began again more calmly. "I know you guys took it from me, so I was wondering.....maybe you have it stuffed ina drawer somewhere or....."

"Like I said missy." the grizzled old guard sighed. "We didnt lose it....we didnt misplace it.....we just dont have it."

"Then who the FRAK does have it!!"

"Language missy."

"Im not your missy buddy-boy," Alli spat, "Stop calling me that or Im gonna do the mashed potatos all over your butt."

Crewman Barnes gave the skinny little blond a quizzical look. "Do the mashed potatos.......?"

"Nevermind nevermind." Allison slumped her head onto the countertop. Normally she wasnt this obsessive, but that tiny device was her lifeblood. "Look.....just pleeeeeease tell me who has my planner?"

"Please.....well thats more like it." Barnes gave a satisfied nod, and licking his thumb began to finger through the Prison logbook. "See.....you young 'un today jus' have no patience for waiting, and no conception how a good 'please' and 'thank-you' can get things done for you."

Wishing silent painful paper cuts upon the man, Alli just grit her teeth as the man looked.

"Ah see here.....here we go." he said at last pointing out an entry in the log. "One Small Pink Electronic Planner...property of Crewman Allison Jimsdottir confiscated on Stardate...."

"Where is it where is it?" Alli interuupted

Frowning slightly, Barnes skipped ahead. "Ah.....seems here that the device could not be opened during a standard security scan....some sort of wicked code lock on it."

Alli made 'hurry up' motions with her hands. "Yes yes....it has like a totally killer lock on it.......its my diary hel-lo."

"Yes well then......seems to me that the code encryption was not totally kosher see. Lieutenant T'lan couldn't crack it, and even a code picker couldnt break in........" Barnes gave a low whistle, "Not even a Code Picker.....and them devices are not exactly legal mind you missy."

"And.....?"

"And....well....says 'ere that we had it sent on up to the joes in Engineering for analysis."

"ENGINEERING!??!" Allison squeaked

"Keep your voice down, and yes.....Engineering. Where else would you send some electronic device you couldnt puzzle out right?"

"I'd give it back to its rightful owner since its nothing but a frakking....er.....nothing but a stupid electronic planner."

Barnes shrugged, "Well then see...thats where you and the boss have different opinions."

"Oh yeah well....wait a minute." Allison's voice dropped low and dangerous. "What do you mean 'the Boss?"

"The Boss.....Commander Corgan.....what do you think I mean by the Boss?"

"HE was the one who took it to Enginnering?"

"Well he didnt take it personally, but he gave the order....see here I got a receipt in the log......'Unknown Device Taken for analysis and code breaking by order Commander James L Corgan."

"He's trying to read my diary!!"

Barnes didnt know what to say. "Sorry miss.....thats all I know....the Boss is the Boss, and I cant help you anymore." He shut the logbook as a way of ending the conversation.

For long moments Allison stood there fuming and argueing with herself.

"He sent........ooooo he wouldnt.......how dare........Im gonna kill......I cant beleive.......Grrrrrarrr!!!"

She snarled angrily for lack of anything else to do.

What the zark was she supposed to do know? She had to get that planner back, but first........first she had to go have some words with 'the Boss'.

"The Reveal" Part Five

First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO SFMC Furies
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - CoE

NOTE: With excerpts from "Who Wants to Live Forever Pt 13"

***USS Galaxy crew quarters deck 8***

"But does that mean I should die too?" she asked her eyes snapping back to his, "You have killed, no strike that; slaughtered. There are other's on this ship that have done exactly the same as us. Who are you to cast judgment upon me?"

Yes. Who was he to cast judgment? To assign blame? Dhani wouldn't reach his body count unless she destroyed a bloody planet. "Because there's enough people like that in the universe."

A small smile flittered across her lips, "Does that mean you should too?" she asked.

"Sooner or later I will."

"And what about me?" she said, "Are you here to judge me now?" her voice was soft, serene as she asked this question. Right now she didn't know if she would fight to stay alive if his answer was yes, something within her told her that she couldn't.

"No. Our score has been settled." he replied. The headache was pounding mercilessly now. If his body could take away any other pain, then why not the headaches? Memories continued to flash past him, too fast for him to see what they showed, but slow enough for him to know that they were his, and yet not.

Dhanishta's head bobbed slightly in acknowledgment, yet some part of her knew that this wasn't the end. They would fight again, as they had always. And she had always come back, in some form or another; as did he. The everlasting battle that spanned millennia upon millennia, life time after life time for all eternity.

"Sarm," Dhanishta called softly, her voice carrying through the air like silk flows in a gentle breeze, "when will this end?" she asked placing her hand upon his chest once more, sultry and seductive, yet cold and detached at the same time.

Baile blinked in confusion. Sarm? It sounded familiar. "I am what I am. It is not up to me to decide when this ends." he heard himself say. Great fucking Scott! Now there was someone else in his head. 'I should start fucking charging for rent.' he thought absently.

She stepped closer to him, her body just inches from his, her face was next to his, her lips almost touching his ear, "We have played this game Sarm, over and over since the dawn of time. Stuck in this loop. You have to let me go now, let all of us go. We *suffered* at your hands, we died *then*, Sarm. This is not our time. These are not our people, no matter what she has done," she said indicating herself, "she is an innocent in our War," her right arm rose, her index finger pointed, touched his chest, "just like he is."

Baile blinked again. What the hell was going on? "Dhani..." Baile's deep voice rumbled.

"Yes?" Dhanishta breathed feeling her heart rate increase rapidly when she realized how close to him she was. Her whole body trembled, yet it wasn't completely from fear. He had already said that he wasn't going to kill her, and she believed him. Yet she couldn't control her trembling, what's more she couldn't move, she was completely routed to the spot like a dear caught in the headlights.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Me?" she replied bewildered, "what about you?" she countered feeling her breath catch in her throat. Her brow knitted together as a deep frown crossed her face combined with complete confusion. She could feel his breath across her neck, feel it flutter loose strands of her hair as he exhaled, she could feel the coarseness of his skin as her cheek brushed against his every time she shuddered, his scent filled her nostrils, hell this close she could practically wear him!

"…Larimar…?" she whispered slowly, questioning it and him at the same time.

"Who?" Baile asked her. Her smells were... wrong. There was something in it he preferred not to explore more than that. She felt so fragile. Like he could break her in half, unless he took it very gently with her.

Dhanishta felt herself become more relaxed, yet at the same time she knew her shaking was now coming from someone else, something else… "You don't remember do you?" she questioned Bail, still having not moved from the position she had found herself in just moments before.

"Remember what?" He remembered Hydrans dying, but the details on how was still a bit fuzzy. He remembered not remembering how he got into Hydran captivity. He remembered not remembering how he could have moved sixty clicks behind enemy lines and not knowing how.

"Larimar, Sarm, the War…"

"What you see here is my 'what-the-hell-you-talking-about?' face. I'm not wearing it for the laugh of it." he replied but not as angry as the words suggested. He was just very confused.

Dhanishta smiled slightly, snorting out a half laugh; no, she couldn't see his face! She was right next to him, her head almost resting on his shoulder. She closed her eyes. *Now* she could see his face. Just as Larimar had. Back then. The feelings ran through her so fast that she buckled doublings over clutching her stomach she almost nutted herself on Bailes shoulder as she went down. Gasping for air, gagging, dry heaving she sputtered at Bailes feet. The stench of fear rose from her like the sent of a burning pot roast; thick, choking and obnoxious.

Tears couldn't fall from Baile's eyes. Who ever had stolen his real ones had made sure of that. Maybe that was a good thing right now. The smell of fear was so strong it made him sick. Then Dhani started retching but nothing came. Baile understood nothing. He had said nothing. Done nothing in the last few seconds that could have triggered it.

She reached up and grabbed his left hand, pawing it for a moment until the retching subsided enough for her to grasp it fully and tug it, in an attempt to bring him down to her.

He felt her tug his hand. Slowly he crouched until he crouched down next to her. "You ok?" he asked evenly. What a dumb thing to ask he chided himself. Of course she wasn't fucking peachy unless she considered putting her fingers down her throat a merry good time.

Dhanishta shook her head, her body vibrated more now, so much so that if it continued it could probably knock her out! She heaved again, tears streaming down her face from the exertion. "On… Romulus…" she said between gags, "you... changed…" she had to stop talking for a moment as her stomach clenched, she whimpered with the pain, clawed at the floor till her nails bent. Gritting her teeth she pushed hard against it, she had to talk, she had to tell him this; he needed to know.

He didn't say anything. Changed? What did she mean?

***Flashback***

No human had ever fought like that and no human ever would. Nor would a Vulcan fight like that, or a Klingon. Or any other species for that matter. Only Baile would. Baile and his brethren.

***End***

"You let go, and you let it out." she said strained, "It over took you, like you knew it would. You warned me and I understood. I thought I could handle what would come." she turned her head to face him for a moment, one hand clutching at her stomach, the pain as it twisted clear in her face. The other arm, outstretched; supported her body weight, shook, trembled, her hand turning deathly white. As did her face, her trill spots becoming more obvious than they ever had been before, "I thought that I could plead to your humanity, with Maya." she paused and swallowed hard.

Maya's name stirred something inside of him. He missed her although he still wasn't sure it had ever been his Maya. Maybe it had just been his mental image of her that something had picked up on. "Go on..." he told her with a flat voice.

"But I couldn't. You decimated them so quickly; I could feel their energy spill out across the ground. It was thick, violent and so much…. I got scared. I tried to run from you… but you caught me... you were there, behind me… and then you were all around me and it didn't matter which way I ran…" her face creased up in pain again and her chin began to wobble.

***Flashback***

Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes and searched the darkened shadows for any sign of his aura, his energy, his color. It had to be out there somewhere in the darkness. Yet no… he had merged with that too. And now he was all around, in everything and everywhere all at once. And there was nothing Dhani could do but stand there and wait for him to take her.

***End***

Images flashed through his mind, like a holovid on fast forward. The headache had found new fuel somewhere and now throbbed like a plasma burn.

She bit her bottom lip in attempt to quell it, to stop herself from blubbering, for once she started she knew that she wouldn't be able to stop, and she couldn't talk and wail at the same time. She flinched when she tasted her own blood. "I tried to get you to forget. Forget what was happening, to bring *you* back. But …"

***Flashback***

~Forget~ she commanded, begged, pleaded… ~Forget.~ Just like when she had been on the ship with Burton the 'how' came to her, just as natural as breathing…. Yet to penetrate the darkness, and beg it to forget, that thing which was just the absence of light… was it even possible? She prayed that it would be… "Forget!" she screamed loudly into the stillness of the night.

***End***

"You.. entered.. my.. mind?" he whispered, his voice coarse with fury. He wanted to hit something. Hard! The headache slammed in a new gear and went into overdrive. A tiny red line of blood ran down his lips from his nose. The coppery smell made his head spin.

"The Reveal" Part Six

First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO SFMC Furies
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - CoE

The Black Templars written by Jonas
Larimar and her Kin written by Dru

NOTE: With excerpts from "Who Wants to Live Forever Pt 13"

***USS Galaxy crew quarters deck 8***

"You.. entered.. my.. mind?" he whispered, his voice coarse with fury. He wanted to hit something. Hard! The headache slammed in a new gear and went into overdrive. A tiny red line of blood ran down his lips from his nose. The coppery smell made his head spin.

Her head bobbed slightly, "When I reached you… connected to you…" her voice trembled, "You .." she felt the blood trickle from her nose once more, down her philtrum and over her top lip. "I fell into your mind… I couldn't escape." As Dhanishta spoke she could see the images unfolding before her eyes once more, feel the emotion contained within, the emotion that was so powerful it sparked off the reaction that ravaged her body now: fear so potent that even she could smell it, as Baile could; pungent, musty; it filled her nostrils and made her gag once more.

***Flashback***

As her voice slithered its way into his head, blinded by the multitude of paths to take it stumbled into a booby trap. How natural that Baile, a man of the marines, and not just any, the Crows; it was inevitable that his mind would be littered with surprises, just as unpredictable as his character.

***End***

The adrenaline surged, it coursed throughout her body, she couldn't control it, couldn't push the feelings away. Fight or flight, yet she didn't want to do either. She didn't want to fight Baile, yet she couldn't run, she didn't need to run. Yet her body wouldn't accept that, it couldn't. As the memory played out it just got worse. "I couldn't stop what happened, what you showed me…." she looked back up at him, her eyes locked on to his, "…the essence of what you truly are…"

***Flashback***

Dhanishta gasped as she finally saw his eyes come into view. They were so close to hers that they merged into one bright light, so blinding that she pulled back, yet was held by his grip, forced to stay.

And then she fell through that pit of fiery amber and through to the other side…

***Flashback - "Who wants to Live Forever" Pt 13 & ½ (The part you didn't see!) ***

For a second, a brief second, after the warning sign had come on and the alert had been called, while the soldiers stood prepared for the boarding party, there was silence. Silence in the minds of those that stood next to him, silence in minds of those that were on the decks above and below him. They were all waiting on him, on them: his team. No one knew what was about to blast through the reinforced docking bay doors. Someone, somewhere, was sure that there was nothing to worry about; just another attack that would be dealt with swiftly. But as that second of silence dragged into another, and still all he could feel from the other side of that wall was nothing… absolutely nothing, his anxiety began to grow. That in turn bled into the others with him. And soon they could all feel it; all hear the silence of the minds from beyond that door.

The wait was the worst for the enemy. They all knew that from experience. The telepaths were powerful but impatient. Giving them time to think, to try and sense them worked in their favor. He watched Grimm place the inactive monophilament wire in a circle around the door. They weren't in a hurry. He gave two other black clad warriors in his team a nod.

The screeches as the grapple from the unknown ship attached itself to the Void Explorer had been heard on every deck, it resounded throughout the ship, echoed and amplified by every mind that had heard it; until they all herd it, all felt it.

In the command centre of the vessel min Larimar waited for the true nature of their aggressor to be identified. Around her, her aides worked gathering sensor information, listening to the voices coming over the conn. She could feel each one's impatience. They had their own mission to attend to and this distraction was an annoyance. Larimars lips curled gently into a soft knowing smile; she could sense the impatience of her subordinate; he was young, innocent to this form of warfare. Everybody had to have their first, this Larimar knew, she therefore did not fault his eagerness, nor his hesitancy.

The protective shielding around the single molecule strand flickered and died as Grimm turned it off by pressing a button on his wrist control. It took the philament wire mere seconds to cut through the blast door leading into their battleground. He nodded again and the metal objects floated in the air towards the blast door which was now falling inwards.

The door landed heavily with a loud bang and less than a second before that the grenades exploded. But no shards came. Just a massive darkness impenetrable by eyes and electronics.

Danburite stepped back as he saw the door fall, a gust of wind enveloped him as it landed on the deck with a heavy thud. Dust particles hit his face as the warm wind flowed over him; he closed his eyes instinctually for protection against the debris. The deck beneath him continued to shudder for a time, residual effects from the door hitting it. He could feel the vibrations in his toes and for a moment he enjoyed that feeling. Yet as he opened his eyes that had only been closed for mere nano seconds he felt something else; panic! He turned his head quickly from one direction to another. Yet it was the same.

Blackness, darker than the void of space, surrounded him. It penetrated his very core. Was he blind? Reaching out an extremity he pawed for the nearest available object. Feeling the cold metal of the consol next to him, he relaxed but only slightly. He reached out again, this time with his mind. He screamed out to anyone to hear him, to reply… but no one did… was he dead?

In the command centre min Larimar sat, her fingers clasped tightly around the arm rests of her chair, her face awash with concentration. ~We have been cut off~ she told the others simply that were with her.

~We have breaches on deck one through five.~ Phenacite told Larimar as she stood poised over the computer, reading the incoming information with precession. Her nimble fingers danced over the key pads as she attempted to erect a stabilization field around the effected areas.

~Alpha team reports that they have engaged the intruders…~ Shattuckite informed his captain, his min. His face too showed concentration as his mind was linked to the seven members of Alpha. It was a difficult task for those not as advanced as Larimar, he had to maneuver his way through layers of emotions, feelings, thoughts of possibilities from those he was connected to as they themselves speculated on what they were dealing with. The information was un-concise, tainted by raw emotion and physical reactions to fear, panic and disorientation.

Shaking his head Shattuckite looked towards Larimar ~Intruders are still unknown min at this time.~ he reported with regret behind his aged silver eyes.

Kunzite turned in her chair, ~Beta team are ready to engage min~ she reported in a determined tone.

The Void Explorer herself shuddered, moaned and screamed, as if she were the only one that understood the malevolence of those that penetrated and ripped open her hull.

To those uneducated Larimars youth would perplex, for she was in essence the captain of this vessel. Many of her aides were advanced in their years, and she compared to them was a mere child. Yet if one could see behind the expression upon her face, the complexity of her mind and the task it undertook… Larimar could hear every single voice upon this ship, she could hear every thought that was generated by the chemical reactions, neurotransmitters firing between synapses in their brains. She processed the data like a computer, analyzing it, investigating it and compiling it to draw out the consistencies: the facts. Her pace, her accuracy, her ability was second to none on this vessel. Within just seconds she had seen first hand what had walked through the impaired hull of her ship...

The intruders knew exactly where they had each other. It was a part of their design. Sarm stood calmly while Grimm and Frey fired two Screamer grenades down the corridor behind the ruined access hatch. A second later a telepathic hailstorm erupted as the Screamer grenades exploded.

Abruptly Larimar stood her expression grim. Traces of pain coursed through her face, laced the tone of her voice as she addressed the others.

~Alpha team one is gone.~ if she had the time to mourn their loss she would have cried right there and then. Yet there was something else… she closed her eyes and focused on the last moment of Amazonites life, Danburites Second.

Her heart rate increased, her breathing became shallow, ~Elders!~ Larimar screeched. Her head whipped round to her advisors, panic clear in her expression, fear emanating from every pore of her body…

~It's the Black Templars!~

"The Reveal" Part Seven

Continuation of "Who wants to Live Forever" Pt 13 & ½ (The part you didn't see!)

The Black Templars written by Jonas
Larimar and her Kin written by Dru

***Location: The Void Explorer, millennia's ago…***

Her heart rate increased, her breathing became shallow, ~Elders!~ Larimar screeched. Her head whipped round to her advisors, panic clear in her expression, fear emanating from every pore of her body…

~It's the Black Templars!~

Out of the darkness they came. The damned. Templar Frey was the first one to step out of the darkness. Dust flew up as his boots treaded over the bodies lying on the ground. More shadowy figures materialized out of the darkness that had appeared out of nothing.

The long dark dusters they wore made them look like futuristic gunslingers. All of them moving with deadly intent.

Sarm pulled one of his guns from the holster, released the safety and shot one of the telepaths in the head as he walked by. None of the nine Templars around him took any notice of the execution. If he hadn't done it then one of them would have. The death of the enemy was the only thing that mattered.

Galena, having been concealed by the shadows from the position she sat in the command centre, stood, making her presence known. She was the attaché to Gamma and well versed in the fables that were the 'Black Templars'. ~That is impossible min Larimar.~ she said in her ever calm and serene voice. It cut through the tension and rising panic that Larimar was feeling as the information poured into her mind from those all over the ship. Galena's gentle features were accented by the subtle lighting that illuminated the command centre of the Void Explorer. Gracefully she crossed the distance between them, not only physically but mentally too, providing unseen support and comfort to her min. Her silver eyes gleamed in the light, her age and wisdom seeping through unabated.

Phenacite turned from the screen for a moment, ~The vessel dose not match any of the intelligence reports regarding the Templars.~ she informed them all keeping her cool.

~They are a myth, min.~ Kunzite said standing up herself, agitated. She was a formidable woman, her mind dedicated to tactical strategies, she cared not for speculation. Fact was the only thing that drove her, that and having the upper hand against her enemies. She was a vicious woman at times, ruthless and arrogant. Yet she served her purpose, in War there was little room for compassion.

Shattukite shook his head. He felt sick to his stomach. His entire team had been wiped out in one blow, and he felt their loss, like part of him was stripped, taken away in a second, and there had been nothing he could do to stop it. If he concentrated hard he could hear their screams, yet he had to sever the link to protect himself. Their voices were gone, and he felt empty. It physically hurt. A tear slipped down his wrinkled cheek as he turned his face away from his min and her attachés.

Boji was the next to speak up, ~Kunzite is right.~ he said not moving from his seat, ~The Templars,~ he pulled a face to show his disdain, ~were *made up* by the mundanes,~ again he pulled a face, yet this one was far worse than the other, he spat the last word out with the venom and hatred he carried for them, ~to lull their children to sleep at night. It's a bead time story of hope, so pitiful, so egocentric.~

He stood now, the anger within him rising as did the pitch and tone of his voice in their minds, ~They believe that they can quell us with a myth!~ he slammed down a fist on the control panel next to his chair, ~They are fools! Do not let the rambling thoughts of the dying sway you min. We are better than that. Stronger.~ The fury in his eyes seeped out as he glared across the command centre and into Larimars eyes.

In the decks below the command centre a bolt passed Templar Frey barely an inch from his head. Calmly he looked down the corridor in the direction the bolt had come. Just as calmly he tilted his head slightly to the side to let yet one more bolt pass harmlessly by. The bolt struck the wall behind him with a sizzling sound, making a scorch mark on it.

Templar Sarm nodded in approval. Templar Frey and Templar Castor both removed a flat metal object from their belts, pressed a small button.

The small disks left the Templars hands simultaneously, each striking the wall on their way down the corridor. The bounce altered the course enough to bounce inside the corridor where they were hiding.

For a moment Larimar was silent, gathering the thoughts from her aides and processing them. Galena knew more about the Templars than any of them did. She had studied every fabled encounter with them. Her studies, though private, had been only theories based on her ability to feel and hear the words of those souls from beyond. Larimar did not doubt her talent, her connection to the deceased. She waited a beat until Galena let her in through her mind blocks so she could experience Galenas first hand account of the debris field: all that was left of several great Void ships. Several of her blood kin had served on those vessels, Larimar thought absently.

As the images and feeling unfolded within she began to understand the nature of how those souls had perished. She was not naive enough to take these images and memories as 'Written by the Elders', yet even so Galena's accounts were compelling evidence.

~Beta has engaged.~ Kunzite voice slipped into the silence in a low growl.

Galena blinked, coming out of her shared memories with Larimar she paused for a moment to re-establish her link with her troops. ~As have Gamma.~ she added softly.

Larimar looked to the other faces in the room, to those that had been silent, communicating back and forth with the men and woman under their command. Okenite was still in his chair, his eyes were closed, his expression neutral as he gathered information from his First. In the chair next to him Seraphinite flinched, her face creased up with an expression of pain. Larimar watched her closely. Seraphinite was also an innocent, recently her talents had grown, and thus Larimar had bestowed upon her the honour of joining the Circle of Aides and given her charge of her own Pod. She had been extremely grateful for the chance to prove herself, yet as Larimar studied her she soon realised her judgment of the innocent youngling had been in error.

In the other chairs that lined the outer rim of the command centre men and woman of various ages and experience sat; these were her aides, each one attached to a pod through telepathy. Chrysocolla, Calcite, Azurite, Apatite, Rhyolite, Sugilite, Wulfenite and Ulexite were the other eight aids that made up the 'Circle of Aides'. Twelve of the best telepaths, able to transmit data from their minds to the First of their Pod, coordinate attacks through those men and woman with ruthless precision. While they spoke to their First's with ease and tranquilly, Serphinite showed signs of stress and agitation; she was reacting to the battle that her Pod had engaged in. If her First died, so would she.

Larimar sighed, a long exhale of disappointment as she watched Serphinite grow more and more disturbed, her long bony fingers extended around the confines of the large oval chair she sat in as her body vaulted from the link.

~Shattukite…~

~I can not re-establish the link,~ He cut her off before she could even think her question, ~I can not tell you who killed my Pod. Just that they all died, horrifically. In ways I did not think possible.~ He ran a hand through his greying hair and sighed deeply.

~I do not understand it!~ Phenacite exclaimed.

Larimar turned, her tufted eyebrows rising, questioning.

~Beta is down, Gamma is down, Delta is engaging now.~ She turned and looked at Kunzite and Galena for additional confirmation.

The pair stood in confusion, both women were in shock. Larimar's eyes went from one to the other, her mind probing them as she did. Galenas usual gentle features became hard as her mind engaged with her pod her eyes spewed forth a rising fury, while Kunzite seemed to emanate compassion, regret for her pod.

The defenders were still trying to scramble together something that resembled a defensive line. The attack on the first defensive team had been faster and more brutal than anything they had encountered. Thulite was the first one that noticed the two metal disks landing behind his pod.

He looked at them for a second and saw the disks open up along the middle. A sickly green light suddenly gleamed out through the crack. ~Grenade!~ he howled to the others but it was too late. The grenades floated a foot up in the air. A low whine filled the corridor and steadily increased in volume. Within a few seconds the sound was so loud it made their teeth vibrate.

They all clamped their hands over their ears trying to block out the noise. Trails of blood had started running from their noses and ears and the pain blurred their vision. The defenders sank to their knees, now screaming in pain from burst eardrums. Even their entire skeleton began to vibrate. A shadowy figure dressed in a dark long duster walked around the corner. The gun in his hand spoke four times, preaching the word of death. It was nothing short of an execution. Sarm watched the bodies slide down on the ground as he walked past.

He turned to three of the Templars and nodded to them. Everything went according to plan. The telepaths cared greatly for their offspring, keeping them near for safety. Sarm couldn't understand why. It was tactically unsound and strategically insane. That's what their mission was: The children.

Larimar felt it then, a jolt through her body, through her mind. They all felt it. Before their very eyes Seraphinite slumped in the chair before them. Crimson blood spilling from her eyes and nose stained her silk tunic, her silver eyes stared out across the command centre, empty, cold: dead.

Another pod was down!

"The Reveal" Part Eight

Continuation of "Who wants to Live Forever" Pt 13 & ½ (The part you didn't see!)

The Black Templars written by Jonas
Larimar and her Kin written by Dru

***Location: The Void Explorer, millennia's ago…***

Larimar felt it then, a jolt through her body, through her mind. They all felt it. Before their very eyes Seraphinite slumped in the chair before them. Crimson blood spilling from her eyes and nose stained her silk tunic, her silver eyes stared out across the command centre, empty, cold: dead.

Another Pod was down!

Had the crew of the Void Explorer known that the fable of the Black Templars, spread by the mundanes; their enemies, had been true. Had Larimar followed her instincts just minutes previous. Had she not debated their existence, things may have turned out differently. But they hadn't, she hadn't and so they didn't.

~I want that deck vented into space!~ Larimar shouted at Phenacite.

The woman turned back to her console sharply. Her fingers raced over the controls, ~I can't!~ she hollered back, the sudden rising panic inducing the fevered pitch, ~I will have to interphase.~ she said with concern glancing at Larimar over her shoulder.

~Do it!~ Larimar ordered urgently.

Phenacite nodded curtly. Interphasing with the main computer was difficult, only Phenacite had ever managed to do it with any sort of success. Spreading her hands out over the control panel she closed her eyes and let her senses take over. A crackle of energy sparked from her palms, blue lightening emanated from her fingertips as she began to manipulate the power flow of the ship wide systems with controlled and concise bursts of electrical energy from her own body.

~Galena, Kunzite, Boji, Azurite, Ulexite, Wulfenite, you are with me. Gear up. This is all out War. Final orders to your pods: with all force necessary; get these farnartards off my ship! Disconnect and get ready to teleport.~ she barked.

There was a momentary delay as those still connected to their pods relayed their final orders, before scattering about the command centre to get the required equipment for battle.

~Shattukite…~ Larimar began turning to face one of her dearest and closest aides.

~I know Larimar.~ He replied reaching out to take her hand.

Larimar blinked, how was it that he knew what she wanted before she had even finished thinking it? She stared into his eyes for a moment, lost by their depth, his depth. For a second she paused to contemplate if he knew what she felt for him

He nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact with her, ~I know what needs to be done. This will be the last line of defense….~

~But how will you know...?~ she broke in, probing him with her mind, yet to no avail. He had erected his blocks; it was always the same when they were close, she felt his guard go up every time. At first she thought it was because he didn't trust her, regarded her as an infant still, given her age, but … she trailed off.

~I know where you are all the time.~ he replied as he opened the access hatch to the weapons and body armor locker. Pulling out a back and breast plate he began to dress his min in her battle gear, for the last time.

Holding the plates in place as he fastened them together she regarded him for a moment. His aged hands and weathered face, those gentle eyes full of wisdom. Wisdom that she had consulted a thousand times over, in every dangerous situation, she couldn't imagine him not being with her now.

While the two were looked in an almost ceremonial procedure the rest of the command centre was a thrum of activity. Around them orders were barked from one aide to another, each understanding the seriousness of the situation. She could hear them all as she stood silently letting Shattukite dress her. He moved so methodically, checking everything twice, attaching the power cells to her amour and linking them to the arm controls with his face neutral; so distant he was now, far out of reach, just going through the motions, disconnecting from everything in order to survive. For a moment she rose above all the voices, like turbulent waves crashing against the shore, focused on his song alone. Such pain. A tear rolled down her cheek. She knew now, as did he.

Turning from that gulf of emptiness she barked at Okenite, ~Get the Innocents here, prepare to disengage on my mark.~

Templar Sarm led his group out into the main access corridor. Heavy resistance was expected, but that was nothing new to the Templars. Without even having to give the order Templar Frey threw two Screamer grenades down the corridor, bouncing them on the wall to get them into the connecting corridor where defenders had taken up positions. The sound of the Screamers was barely heard by the Templars, but for the telepaths it was a different matter.

Again no orders were issued as the team of nine Templars walked down the corridor. Each of them simply followed the orders they 'knew' in their minds that Sarm wanted them to do. When the defenders came charging out from a corridor up ahead the rest knew it the instance the first Templar spotted the enemy. They knew where they came, how many they were and the weapons that were being used.

The onslaught had began, or rather the slaughter. As Galena, Kunzite, Boji, Azurite, Ulexite, Wulfenite and Larimar teleported into position they witnessed first hand the devastation being wrought upon their mighty vessel. Seeing it with their own two eyes was vastly different from feeling it through anothers. Setting up behind a blockade Larimar watched as wave after wave of her kin were knocked down by the Screamers. They were a twisted, sadistic form of warfare; to a telepath they were deadly. No other could hear or feel there effects; the instant pain they caused was overwhelming. They emitted a pulse for just long enough that everyone who was present in the blast radius was completely immobilized.

The Screamer was designed specifically by the Templars to aid them in their mission. It was cruel, just like they were. Unrelenting, just like they were.

It wasn't a quick death either; it was long, drawn out and excruciatingly painful. The grenade let off a pulse making it impossible for them to hear anything else once it blew. The pulse affected the telepathic brain as well as destroying their inner ear drums and bringing to pass all their worst fears. Within moments they were paralyzed with fear, disorientated and immobilized, locked inside their own mind, unable to escape. Their worst nightmare would play out. It was never what they expected either, for most, fear is locked deep with in the subconscious, and never really confronted in daily existence. The trauma of living through it caused so much damage to the brain that before the vision even ended, their body had already died. Those that did survive, and the odds of that were one in a thousand, were never the same again.

Larimar was lucky, she wasn't in the blast radius, yet she was close enough to see it. Her and her pod were at the back of large platform, crouched down prepared to shoot the first thing that moved, that wasn't one of their own.

She heard the cries from her kin as the Screamers detonated, she saw their bodies drop to the floor, watched them as they grabbed their heads in pain, shrieked out to the Elders for any form of comfort, and then she watched with unbridled horror etched on to her features as one by one the Templars stepped through the arch.

She felt nothing from them. Their faces were neutral, no trace of emotion as they turned their weapons upon every writhing form and fired. Larimar closed her eyes instantly feeling the loss of life as if it were a limb amputated from her own body. One by one the Templars turned and fired, executing each and every one of her kin that had fallen from the Screamer. Her eyes widened, her mind stilled as another voice was taken. Stunned for a moment she just watched. To be honest she would have done the same thing, no one lives through a Screamer; it was kinder to end it before it had barley begun. She turned from the sight before her, staring at the wall she cried out to the Elders, her 'gods' for strength.

Sarm nodded towards the left side corridor up ahead. There was no need to give additional instructions. He looked at three Templars whom all just nodded silently. In the Great War the telepaths had always had the upper hand through their powers. The mundanes had after a while developed screening methods to defend themselves, but it never took long until the telepaths had developed ways of getting through.

But with the Templars it was different. Their minds were shielded in a way they had never encountered before and the few times a telepath had managed to push through it had never gone well.

The telepaths had learned the hard way that the Templars could track them down if they tried to touch the mind of a Templar. To the silent warriors it was like seeing a flashlight in pitch black darkness.

The three Templars shouldered their rifles and drew their handguns. Massive things, designed to make very big holes in the body armor the telepaths wore. Sarm had a specific task for those three. The children onboard.

Sarm both saw and felt the telepaths retreat. No doubt had they been recognized. He retrieved a Screamer from his belt, armed it and tossed it down the corridor almost casually. It slid across the floor as Sarm followed it in suit.

The telepathic warriors that made up the bulk of the telepaths fighting body saw the grenade come to a halt. Less than a second later their world exploded. But their misery didn't last long. Sarm had un-holstered his gun and shot the writhing creatures as he passed them, one by one in the head, without looking. The screams died down just as suddenly as they had risen.

"Larimar.. " he said in a voice her telepathic abilities would pick up. He knew that by experience. He had hunted her and her ship for quite some time, longer than the telepath knew herself. Sarm knew the way she fought better than she knew it herself - after all she was but a telepath. He on the other hand was a Templar.

Larimar froze, just as she was getting her pod ready to move out she heard him. His voice slid inside her mind, it was unnatural, uncomfortable, and what was worse; he knew her name….

"The Reveal" Part Nine

NOTE: Continuation of Flashback to "Who wants to Live Forever" Pt 13 & ½ (The part you didn't see!) With excerpts from "Who Wants to Live Forever Pt 14"

The Black Templars written by Jonas
Larimar and her Kin written by Dru

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Chief of Engineering
First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - Co Furies SFMC

***Location: The Void Explorer, millennia's ago…***

Larimar froze, just as she was getting her pod ready to move out she heard him. His voice slid inside her mind, it was unnatural, uncomfortable, and what was worse; he knew her name….

She knew little about the Templars. Galena knew more, whilst no-one had survived an encounter with them, adding to the belief that they were merely a story, it was apparent that they were not. They were here, on her ship, and she knew now; having seen what Galena had seen, they were no myth. Turning to Galena, Larimar implored her for more information.

~They wont stop min.~ Galena said, her eyes fixed upon the shadowy forms that seemingly arose from the ashes and continued their pursuit towards them without so much as a break in concentration. ~They will hunt us down one by one until there is nothing left of us. No trace that we ever existed.~ her voice was distant, as if she had come to realize her own mortality and was readily preparing to engage it.

~They are not empathic, nor are they telepathic, even though they move as one?~ Larimar asked her. It was a reasonable deduction given how they had attacked and how they moved through her ship, silently with ease, each one knew what to do, without any communication from the other. Although there was one, the one that stood now, spoke her name and addressed her as if he was a leader. If she took out him maybe all the others would die…? She looked up, wondering if his death would be enough to stop this. Already she could feel the terror all around as news spread of who their invaders were.

After telling her pod their orders she stood up, it was her only way to reply to him, for he couldn't hear he if she spoke. This could be a trap, yet it also might be negotiations, if it was the latter she could not let that opportunity go.

The powerfully built Templar holstered his gun when he saw her. He pulled back the hood that had covered his face. They all wore similar garments, heavy body armor and a long duster with a hood on top of that. "It pleases my eyes to finally see you min Larimar…" he said. His voice had a slow drawl to it but it was still rich and full.

The Templars were a terrifying sight. They were mute, devoid of any emotion of thought. Their minds were totally unreadable and it was the scariest thing for Larimar to witness. She could feel nothing from him, no reasoning as to why they were attacking, no motive. She had fought many times before, since she was an innocent youngling, all those battles had gone well, she had fought hard and grasped her skills with a natural ease. Yet this was something different, more sinister.

He was the Telepath Killer.

She knew it already. As soon as she realized it was them. She knew they had come here to kill them all. The reports of entire ships being wiped out with no trace left, and no information of how, or who; she knew how now, and by whom.

Tilting her head to the side in reply she watched him closely, it was all she could do. She could not anticipate his actions, only hope that she would be able to translate the slightest twitch of his body and react in time.

"Surely the years of mindspeak has not deprived your tongue of its function?" he asked her with that faint drawl to his voice.

She took in a breath, and pursed her lips underneath her mask. Licking her lips to part them she paused before she spoke. Lifting the visor of her mask she looked upon him with her own eyes, instead of through the interactive visual display of her suit. Her silver eyes matched the tufts of her silky hair that poked through the sides of her helmet.

She confronted her fear: by standing here before him. She forced her body not to tremble. "They have not." she replied in a husky voice, brittle and dry from not using it in years.

The Templar smiled and suddenly looked very... human. This wasn't personal to any of the Templars. It was simply what they had been created to do. Hunt down and kill the telepaths. "It is a mighty fine ship you have… I have studied every single battle she has been in under your command, min Larimar… and I must confess I find your record of success fascinating."

She inclined her head in acceptance of the compliment, yet she wouldn't let it go to her head. Her eyes narrowed on him, her body tensing, she let her senses out, like tendrils, extra appendages; they roamed his form, seeking out information like a covert spy.

"Why have you come here?" she asked, her voice beginning to sound clearer. It was strange for her to hear it. For so long she was used to the way she thought it sounded as she only heard it in her head when she spoke to another.

Sarm sensed her probing although it was not at his mind. They all did. Two Templars looked at each other, telling the other what they would do if things got physical.

"The purpose of our… visit... is to make sure you will never reach the Battle of the Gate." he said. "We have worked far too long to allow this fine ship…" he said and nodded slightly towards the bulkhead, "and its commander reach the battle." He didn't need to say more. She would understand the significance of the words.

The Gate would be oh so well defended. Far more than they had thought. The question was only how many of the cruisers and carriers would never get there? "How we do that is up to you, min Larimar."

She took a moment to think about his… offer. If you could call it that! Did he really expect her to stand down? The Mundanes had risen once more to try and crush them taking their stand at Gate, she could not turn her ship around and leave what little forces her kin had to withstand the onslaught from those miankas!

"Your offer does not have much appeal." she replied truthfully. She had not yet mastered the complete virtue of audio communications. To lie in her culture was a difficult task, one had to be a master in deception to be able to clearly make another believe in your words if they were not spoken from the heart. Yet with the species before her she could tell him anything and he would have no cause to discredit her. She bit her tongue, offending as it was, annoyed that she had not thought to play that card sooner.

"It is not so much an offer as it is an ultimatum, min Larimar." the slight drawl in his voice made it sound even colder. Sarm looked at her calmly. "Stand down and your crew will be spared." He stated the facts as they were. "You may try and hold ground against us, but out here you are alone, min Larimar. None will come to your aid as they have before."

Her eyes narrowed at his accusation that she and her kin had needed to be rescued more than once. She was a proud woman, and would not take such an insult. She would also not stand down. She could not allow Gate to fall to the Mundanes.

Still, even resolved in her own mind as to her next course of action, she consulted her counsel of aides, for she could not place her kin in this position without.

Her mind stretched out through her ship to the others, and received their words, weighed them up in the balance and then returned her gaze to the Templar before her…

***End of Flashback to "Who wants to Live Forever" Pt 13 & ½ (The part you didn't see!) ***

Dhanishta looked back up at Baile, her eyes locked on to his, "…the essence of what you truly are…" her voice hung in the air, supported by the weight of its accusation: "… Black Templar Sarm…"

"The Reveal" Part Ten

NOTE: With excerpts from "Who Wants to Live Forever Pt 14"

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Chief of Engineering
First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - Co Furies SFMC

***Location: USS Galaxy, deck 8 crew quarters***

Dhanishta looked back up at Baile, her eyes locked on to his, "…the essence of what you truly are…" her voice hung in the air, supported by the weight of its accusation: "… Black Templar Sarm…"

The memories assaulted him relentlessly. Names of places he had never been to. Names of people he had never seen. A vortex of memories eroding his own. He bared his teeth in defiance. He would not slip quietly into the dark. Whoever the hell Sarm had been, he was... You know who Sarm is, he chided himself. Then the next second the defiance came back with a vengeance. "I am me..." he growled so low it was barely more than animalistic sound.

Dhanishta closed her eyes against the images that came to her so readily. It was as if part of her had been stuck on Romulus, playing out the events since it happened, over and over…

***Flashback***

Baile struggled backwards, his entire being focused on killing the creature in front of him. Then something went past the walls that surrounded and guarded his mind and exploded there. Every single muscle in Baile's body cramped, his face locked in a grimace of anger, hate and utter pain. He staggered backwards, forced back by an invisible wind or even a hand.

"Fuck..." Baile whispered as the seizures overwhelmed his body. The marine screamed at the top of his lungs or at least imagined he did so. ***End of Flashback***

"Larimar couldn't let you, him, win. She had to make a stand to give the others chance to get away." Her breathing came hard and fast as she recited the vision she had seen in his mind.

"I am not him... I am me..." he whispered more and more loudly. "I am me..." he shook his head in a primitive wish for it to go away but it didn't. It couldn't. He knew. He knew it was real. His fists closed hard until his knuckles started to crack. The drums were beating in the distance. A thunder rolling towards him through time. It drowned out all other sounds except the voice of Larimar... Dhani... The tattoos on his arms pulsed as his arms tensed so hard they nearly started to cramp.

***Flashback***

The engineer screamed as well but for entirely different reasons. She screamed out on all sorts of levels, in her mind; projecting her mental voice to all that could hear it, and with her voice once his vice grip freed her. When her lungs ran out of air she still continued to scream, a soundless whimper echoing throughout the forest. Images overwhelmed her, feelings she didn't understand, places she had never seen, people she had never met.

***End of Flashback***

Dhani swallowed hard, trying with every ounce of her body and mind to push the feelings down. "It was all so muddled at first." she confessed. "Shattuckite managed to separate from the Void Explorer and take as many of them to safety as possible."

There was something deep inside of him that confirmed what she said. Another part of him, a part he knew wasn't his, felt betrayed by it. Knew what she was going to say next.

***Flashback***

It all rampaged through her mind rising to a point of abject terror that would stop any ones heart but hers. She had felt fear like that, from many of her victims, yet what she saw in Bailes mind was more terrifying for her than anything else that she had witnessed. To see the image was to live the terrifying moments of a telepaths worst nightmare and death. Even though she had lived through so much and felt such pain death and despair, this was so beyond that, she would never be able to describe it in words.

***End of Flashback***

She gulped hard, relinquishing control of her body she couldn't fight it now, the feelings were just too overwhelming. "He began peace talks with the mundanes. The first of his kind to speak out about the Templars." She looked up at Baile, his face was still neutral, just as it had been when she started explaining what she had seen. "For a time there was peace between them, the mundanes and the telepaths. But the Templars couldn't understand that." Shifting on the floor by her own means as well as by her trembling Dhanishta looked back up at Baile and stared at him, almost through him, "They continued the War. And they didn't stop until they had_ killed_ every_ single_ telepath." she finished through clenched teeth, clenched against the shaking and the overwhelming grief that flooded her mind and body.

Killed. Every. Single. Telepath. He wanted to be sick. It took seconds before his arm obeyed his command and supported him against the wall. His head dropped. The burn in his eyes intensified until it made him want to scream. 'Curse you... you fucking bastards… I swear I will find you and tear your pissant hearts out...' he croaked low. Genocide. He had committed genocide. NO! Not he! How the hell could it have been him? He didn't even know where it had happened or when! Faces flashed past his eyes. Faces that looked at him with accusing eyes. Ghosts of times past.

Dhanishta looked up at him now, from her eyes a river had begun to flow. Tears for herself; for what she had seen, what she had felt. Tears for them; for Larimar and her kin, for what they had suffered. Tears for the mundanes; for their stupidity and naivety. And tears for Baile, tears that he could not create himself, yet felt.

"You remember now don't you?" she asked in rasping voice, hoarse from the explanation and the effects the memory had upon her then, and now.

Scents and sounds overwhelmed him. The smell of burning flesh, ash, sweat, fear, anger, terror came to him like pilgrims to the end of the journey. Screams of mercy and pleads echoed inside. "Why?" he whispered as he slowly sank down on his knees. There was no energy left. No fire inside. Genocide. 'Mercy on my soul' he managed to think for himself. Mercy was not for him any more.

God gave mercy to humans. Wasn't that what the chaplain had said? Wasn't man created in his image? Whose image was he? "Kill me.." he said in a hoarse voice. That is what he would do otherwise. Kill. Soon the last remains of his humanity would erode completely and then... and then what?

Watching a man like Baile slip to the floor, a man so powerful, full of so much rage and sheer brutal strength; to see him double over with the agony of what he had witnessed, what he had done (?), it was like watching a 'God' fall from their own realm. Dhanishta crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Even though the images that had hurt her originated from him she couldn't believe that he had done those atrocities. Had he? Were they 'his' memories or were they someone else's? Was he guilty or was he carrying around the guilt for another, to remember for all eternity the foolishness of one race, so that it could not be repeated? Or... Dhanishta held on to him tightly, her embrace, although week was steadfast. She could not let go, did not want to let go. She could not believe the 'or'. If he was a Templar, if that was his destiny, what he was meant to be… if these images were a beacon pointing him in the direction of his future; this would be the only time she could be this close to him without fear, for if he changed…

"I will not." she said slowly as the tears made her eyes sting and her nose run. "Between us there has been enough death." Whether she was speaking as Larimar or Dhanishta was uncertain. She wiped her itchy, wet, nose on the back of her hand, yet still she would not let go of him.

The walls of Babylon inside of him crumbled and fell under the siege of memories. Every atrocity committed in the past drove a nail into him. Thoughts flew around in his head, evading every attempt to gather them into something more coherent. Maybe that was for the better. He had finally lost his mind, wrapped in concern from Dhani/Larimar. The two names echoed simultaneously in his mind.

He raised his head and looked at her. Larimars face looked back at him for a second before Dhani's face replaced it. "This won't end…" he whispered with a sorrow so deep he was sure it was going to kill him. Genocide.

Dhanishta stared back, unsure of who was sitting before her. "It has to." she replied simply, softly, gently.

Bodies strewn across the room glared angrily at him. "It's beginning again."

Dhanishta stood up. Her haste made her stumble, that and how her legs shook and trembled. Steadying herself against the wall she looked back down at him, "Are *you* Sarm?" she asked, an urgency in her voice. She needed to know as much as he did.

Was he? He didn't know. Was there really a Sarm? Was there a Baile? The vortex in his mind stopped him from reaching a conclusion. He turned his head slightly until he could spot her. The lights hurt his eyes but it didn't matter. "I am what I am." he finally replied.

She felt it rise again within her. She could even smell it now: fear. She stared at him, past him and through him. "Don't." she whispered closing her eyes. She stood as still as she could, her eyes tightly shut, waiting for what would happen next. She had no clue what was coming this time. She remembered the stars, being with them, being one of them. She remembered how her molecules had been spread across the temporal rift, how it had felt to be pulled apart by the warp core breach. She remembered how it felt when Naut had slit her wrists and her blood had spilled across the deck, drop by drop; draining her. She remembered what it was like to be suffocated, suspended without gravity as her lungs collapsed from lack of oxygen. She remembered what it was like to be stuck in her own mind debating with Death whether she lived or died, begging the dust cloud that was the end to make it not so, to give her the chance to breathe just once more. She refused to open her eyes this time. This time, when it came, it *would* be the end.

"Vegetable Salad."

Starring Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara
Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval

On the Planets surface..........

As he peeled back the skin of the purple fleshed Jarro Root, Miguel Antonio Sandoval reflected that it had been months since he had been so happy.

Research. Pure and simple research on an uncharted world far from the political intrigue and violent conflicts that seemed to define life aboard the USS Galaxy.

No menacing Alien fleets.......no corrupt Admirals or sneaky assassination plots. Just a scientist....an enigmatic mystery....and his wits.

"Now then my little purple friend," he cooed to the root as the skin fell away revealing the vein structure beneath, "....what are you, and what are you doing so far from home?"

Sitting beside a happy campfire Miguel was steadily workign his way through a large pile of roots and vegetables that he had collected on his initial survey of the planet's surface.

Without exception, the collection of plants had proved to be quite familiar, and yet while he was disapointed not to be able to catalogue new species, he was presented with something of a mystery nontheless.

What were a collection of various Vulcan plants doing so far from their planet of origin on a world that for all intents and purposes should be quite barren and lifeless.

And yet here they were.

Gespars......Jarro Roots.....and even a variety of Plomeeks that he discovered on a hillside bush. Vulcan species with which he was completely familiar.....and yet........there was somehting not quite right about them.

"Esculpe me for the intrusion my friend." he apologized as he stuck a probe into the JArro Root. "But I am thinking there is something you are not telling me."

Running a tricorder over the root, he explored the basic DNA of the plant, comparing it to known species of Jarro.

There were similarities.......actually a 95% DNA match, and yet there were some key diferences.

Already he had a working theory based on his examination of the other plants, but he wanted to test the Jarro to make sure.

Pausing to stretch, Miguel felt his joints pop and muscles protest. He had been hunched over painfully for hours intent on his work and his back was begining to cramp up.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Miguel could see the other members of the away team still bickereing about who was going to be in charge.

The Angelito was giving some speech on how humans were bigoted lifeforms and how smart he was, while the little child was reminding everyone how many degrees he had and how old he was.

Wearying

Running the tricorder back over the pile of vegetables one last time to confirm his findings, Miguel sighed and happily snapped the deviece shut.

All his data was now safely transmitted back to the Galaxy for analysis......somthing that would occupy him for many satisfying weeks to come.

Time now however to relay the gist of his analysis.

Flagging down 'Commander Tarin (who looked as frustrated with the bickering as he was) he handed over a PADD containing a preliminary report of his findings.

"Vulcan plants Senora." he began, "No doubt about it, but the vast majority of the plantlife here is Vulcan in origin."

She skimmed the report, then nodded for him to continue.

"Additionally however, I am finding some some unusual combinations and hybrids within the sample that seems to contradict a simple transplantation of species.

"For instance.....The unusually high concentraiton of edible vegetables would seem to indicate that the plants hereabout are not so much random natural dispersion but more along the lines of some sort of cultivation gone awry."

He paused and explained. "Its like somebody started a vegetable garden and left it alone to grow wild. Some other species may develope, but the vast majority of a sampling would still be vegetables."

Iniara nodded again. She had noticed the large number of roots, tubers and vegetables the teams was unearthing, but had waited for the official report. "A great big abandoned vegetable garden," she mused. "Odd."

"Si Senora....." Miguel nodded and indicated another tricorder display, "Secondly, the DNA analysis of the plantlife confirms the Vulcan origins, but it also indicates some very key diferences as well. The presence or absense of some key sequences that are common to modern Vulcan plants indicates that the varieties here are of a somewhat more primitive stock."

He explained. "LIfe...all life really, but especially quick live plantlife will mutate and evolve naturally over the course of time. Improvements in structure, hydration, and reproduction are commonly seen over just a matter of years, and by using these landmarks we can gague the maturity of a species."

"These plants show some specific differences to species we have in the ships database to lead me to......initially at least.....assume that they are of a much older variety that what grows on Vulcan today."

The Commander nodded and considered that. "How old?"

Miguel shrugged, "No se Senora. Give me a few days work in the lab and some increased access to the ships computers, and I can come up with an answer for you. For now I would estimate at least a few hundred years......maybe a thousand......maybe less."

"You can tell that with a tricorder?" Iniara asked, clearly impressed.

"Ah.....mostly." Miguel admitted, "What was the final clue was in this." He handed over the sliced up Jarro Root.

"Okay..." she began, examining the purple vegetable. She pressed a finger into its flesh, then sniffed it experimentally. "Looks like your average tuber to me. What's so special about it?"

"Another Vulcan vegetable." he explained, "But this one is special and unique. Jarro roots thrive in the iron rich deserts of the Southern Hemisphere on Vulcan. They are quite nutricious and packed full of sustaining vitamins, proteins and even a form of fat. Its because of this they were highly valued by primitive Vulcan tribes for their sustaining properties. One Jarro Root had enough nutirents to replace several normal meals see?"

"Unfortuantley, the roots are highly resitant to transplantation, and most efforts to cultivate it elsewhere were unsuccessful. For thousands of years, Jarro roots remained a desert vegetable and would not thrive elsewhere."

"That is until recently." He indicated a footnote on the PADD. "Roughly 500 years ago, Vulcan Botanists developed an method taking a microscopic vine that was rich in iron and splicing it into the root structure. This made the Jarro more easily transportable and made for easy storage. The mutation was so beneficial that the microvine was released into the wild to mingle with natural Jarro, so it is that now 500 years later, all Vulcan Jarro can be found to possess this rich vein of iron rich fibers."

"Gene splicing...that's nothing new." The Commander looked at Miguel and motioned for him to continue. "So what's your point, then?"

A bit hurt, Miguel pointed at the disected root again. "There is no such splicing in this root Commander. No iron fibers. I dont know where it came from, but his root is a variety that has not existed for over 5 centuries."

A look of surprise crossed Iniara's face. "You mean..."

Miguel nodded. "I cannot tell you when this plant came to be put upon this planet......but whoever did, did it at least 500 years ago.....or more."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Iniara remarked, taking one last look at the padd before relinquishing it. At least this trip wasn't turning out to be a complete waste. "Good work, Ensign. Keep me informed."

Miguel nodded humbly and hid a tiny smile. For the first time he had been able to contribute to an away team and have his efforts matter for something.

As an added bonus, the planet had not blown up......no alien fleets were attacking, and as far as he as aware there was no Section 31 plot afoot.

At last an away mision when nothing weird happened!!

"firm hand, level head"

CMC Madden Jayce
Chief of the Boat

SCPO Renora Loret
Tactical

---

The enlisted crew's mess was located in the lower decks of the ship: a large open room that would fill with people between shifts and be almost empty during them. The Master Chief was there for an hour between each shift change except the gamma/delta, and kept conference with anyone and everyone who came up to her. She'd laugh at their lewd jokes, share more than a few of her own, and assess what was really going on around the shift. If there was something she felt strongly about, she'd probe for more information and take it discreetly to the applicable department head, XO, or directly to the Captain depending on the severity of the situation.

Although there were replicators, tradition within the enlisted fleet kept closer to that embraced by the naval vessels of old: cafeteria style, with cooks behind the scenes and a few selections at each meal. Mondays were Bajoran night, Wednesdays were Andorian; Fridays usually saw a strange collection of Klingon dishes on the one hand and Vulcan dishes on the other. There was always a Terran choice available. Few people ever elected to use the replicators, and those that did were often jokingly harassed for having ambitions of rank. Down here, people could realize that class was still very much a living issue, just these days it didn't deal as much with money.

It was nearing the end of the shift change: those coming off had eaten their fill, those going on were coming up on deadline; the last wave was going through the line now, something that prompted the CoB to fill her own plate and exit the large room through a door to the side and into the 'goat locker,' as it was traditionally called: the Chief Petty Officer's Mess. It was also a tradition that harkened back from the nautical days of old back on earth. Here was a place that the CoB and the CPOs could discuss the business of the day without interruptions, over meals, and without fear of being over heard by those who shouldn't overhear. No one who was not a chief could enter the room without specific permission from the CoB: officers included. Even the Captain observed this.

Off in the corner of the room sat the small round table, draped in the white table cloth with a single chair. A small rose sat in the vase, and the setting was placed with a turned glass. It was meant to be a symbol for those not there, the KIAs, MIAs, and POWs. Try as she might, Madden could never ignore the setting, always considered it for a moment or two longer than she should have, offering a silent thought of remembrance and recognition before she began to her mean.

It was Tuesday, and Madden was enjoying a Betazoid meal that wasn't quite what mother used to make. She supposed that's what happened when the four who had KP duty were three Bolians and a Trill. Madden could easily tell this because she was finally able to realize that Bolian spices might actually make this dish better... or, she thought, looking at the almost empty glass of water, maybe her taste buds had simply been killed off.

"Chief Renora," Madden stated, looking up toward the thin blonde Bajoran woman who had just taken her tray from the self-service line. "Sit over here, if you would."

Renora had just collected her meal which she had to assume was what had been proffered on the menu for today. She sometimes felt that she, and every other NCO, continued to eat in the mess in the hope that one day they would find something that tasted like it was meant to. Today did not look promising...the uttaberry crêpes looked highly suspicious.

She walked over to where Jayce was sitting and placed her tray on the table. "Master Chief." She said as she sat down. "What can I do for you?"

She smiled. "I just met with your new department head today and realized we haven't really spoken lately."

Renora returned the smile. "No, no I suppose we haven't. I wasn't aboard ship much while we were docked, after everything that happened I needed to get away for awhile."

"Perfectly understandable."

"I'm glad I've run into you actually Master Chief, I was wanting to have a chat with you about a few things down in the tactical unit."

"Of course," Madden said, nodding as she took a sip of her tea. "I was actually hoping that's what you would say. Your department's been through a lot lately with so much turnover amongst the officers. What's on your mind?"

Renora let out a small laugh. "True enough... I'm actually not sure I met Commander Todd. I see from the manifest that we've taken on our fair share of 'Admin Warfare Specialists'." Renora highlighted the phrase with the use of 'bunny rabbit ear' gestures with her hands.

"Yes we have," Madden replied with a soft shake of her head. "Babies each and every one of them, too."

"They're green. I'm not questioning your judgment but I just hope we don't get as stretched out there as we have been recently."

"Don't worry, Chief. We will." The CoB offered a soft almost sad smile. "It's the way of the Fleet these days, we don't have a lot of choice. Fewer people are joining and there's a greater and greater need for them. Those we have are good, or they have the potential to be. We just need to give 'em a little bit of love and a little bit of discipline and teach them how to do what they need to do. You know. The same as we would do for any Ensign out of the Academy. But here, we don't have to speak as slow." She winked.

"Well we should be able to skip the trip to the stores for a pot of non-skid wax, tartan paint, left handed torque wrench and a long stand." Renora said as she took a sip of her tea. "I know what you mean about the state of the fleet though; I suppose we're lucky to be getting as many applicants as we do. Between us and the Miranda we probably make up a good 70% of first choice assignments." Picking up her fork, Renora rolled a piece of food across the plate. Something inside was decidedly, and unusually, watery.

Madden watched the blonde woman picking at her food, using a critical eye to inspect the dish as she slowly ate it.

"You know why I like us all to eat here, right?" Madden asked. "It's honestly not to be cruel..."

"I am not going to answer that question on the grounds I may incriminate myself; we are eating Betazoid food after all... or at least some kind of approximation. Tell me?"

"I'm not qualified to say," Madden replied, "it's certainly nothing like Mother used to make." She shrugged softly. "Not so bad though, long as you close your eyes and don't look at it." She offered a smile. "It's important for us to show solidarity. They have to eat it." She briefly bobbed her head toward the door leading into the mess hall. "We should as well. Some ships let their CPOs get away acting like they're officers, it goes to their head and they forget why they're here. This makes sure that we have to talk with them, see them every day, and not just those in our departments." She paused a moment, then chuckled. "Eating the food they prepare also shows we trust them. Keeps us honest." She grinned.

"Well... it's not the worst I've had. Back on the Highlander the coffee had the texture, consistency and most importantly TASTE... of mud. I see your point though; we need to win the ducklings' trust. I'm not so naive as to think we will get that or their respect automatically." Renora washed down what she felt was going to be the last mouthful of her meal.

"So is there anything specific you need from me?" Madden questioned. "Anything you think I should keep my eye on?"

"Not so much keep an eye on, I'm just looking for a little information."

"Shoot -- I'll give you what I can."

"Yeah, on my new, spotted, CO? You were in tactical most of your career right? What's your take on him, after all you've served aboard ship longer than me... and you're the CMC. I value your judgment."

Madden smirked. Valued her judgment. When she was a CPO, the CMC's judgment wasn't something you valued, it was God's Law. But she said nothing.

"Yeah, I was in tactical until I was promoted to CMC," Madden said. "And I haven't been here much longer than you." She smiled slightly. "I think Rex is a good man, you just can't by into the private life bullshit. He's smart. He has a lot of background. He's a joined Trill, and from what he says, the Rex symbiot has been around a ridiculously long time. He'll be valuable. He'll listen, and I think he'll react well. And he's been on the crew for a long time; I think he'll actually stick around. That will be a good change for the department."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say and, coming from you, I trust it to be the truth. As you'll be more than aware I have a 'thing' with COs, I don't go looking for trouble it just seems to come up... I guess that's what happens when you get two people who aren't afraid to stick to their guns."

"Ha," Madden said. "I think it's something about tactical COs. They usually have their fair share of ego and aren't usually too keen on admitting someone who didn't go through the academy might have some good ideas." She smirked. "The rows I used to have when I was the Tactical SCPO on the 'Scott... Of course, as the CMC, I implore you to hold your tongue as well as possible to keep me out of those situations."

"And I will make sure those situations are kept to the absolute minimum... hopefully none. I just hope that it doesn't turn into a war of egos... ending with a decision based on who has pips rather than stripes."

"Rex has his share of ego, but he seems to be a reasonable man; I think he'll give you as much consideration as anyone in the department. It may have something to do with his combined age; older COs are usually better with non-coms than the younger are."

"I hope so Master Chief, I really do. I think a firm hand with a level head attached are what this unit needs and, if the symbiot is as old as you say, the experience it will bring will be invaluable."

"I agree with you completely," Madden said before she looked at the watch face on the inside of her wrist. "Chief, it was good talking with you, but I have more than spent my mess time." She offered a final smile as she stood. "Come see me, if you have any problems, but I really think this one might be a good one for a change."

"The Edge"

CMC Madden Jayce
Chief of the Boat
USS Galaxy

---

At the end of the day, the Master Chief wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep for a very long time. Of course, that wasn't something she had the opportunity to do too often, nor was it something she was always able to do even if the opportunity presented.

Although she ran a tight schedule, Madden always made time for herself as it was, quite literally, the only way to keep herself sane. She put her evenings aside for her, and only her; she was available for emergencies, of course, but few people dared to make that call and often found a way of fixing the situation or at least, holding it off until the CoB's regular business hours. So Madden spend her evenings primarily alone, though sometimes she and Brian would have a quiet dinner in his quarters or on the holodeck (of course, tonight her counselor friend was on a second date she'd engineered). Often, she would simply curl up on the couch with a novel and some tea, a little bit of fruit from the hydroponics bay serving as her dinner snack, and she would try to concentrate on the texts in front of her as she ate.

Sometimes, however, reading wasn't an option; she would find herself having to read a page over and over again, interrupted by thoughts from down the hall or down the ship. She'd give up in those situations, settle in her bedroom with the lights low and meditation candles burning, and she would run through her blocking exercises and struggle to silence the dull roar mowing through her head. And then other times, she'd simply give into it, and she would lie on her bed and listen, hopping on each train as it came by, riding it until another intercepted. She'd gotten to know many people that way, by catching the tails of their loud thoughts, by observing their memories, by reliving their day. She never pried, never asked for it; instead, these things just came, sweeping over her like waves.

Today was one of those days. Perhaps it was worry for the new crew she'd welcomed a few weeks before that was chipping away at her resolve; while many were settling in flawlessly, others were having a difficult time. While that wasn't usual, the flawless integrators were fewer this time around. Many of the Ducklings had never been outside their home system for much more than a brief vacation: they were homesick and a little bit frightened. She couldn't blame them really, though consequently she did find herself trying to remember her own first assignment. It hadn't been that long, had it? And then she realized it had easily been twenty years and a little bit of change.

It could have been the planet, as well. The scientists and stellar cartographers were stating it shouldn't exist, not here, not as it is. This system, they said, should be well beyond life supporting capabilities. Hearing things like that always made her nervous. Explanations fluttered around, hanging on the edges of people's thoughts like the final leaves of Fall, and none of them promised anything particularly good.

The Master Chief lay on her bed, fingers interlaced with her hands resting on her stomach, her feet crossed at the ankles. She'd long ago changed her clothing, was wearing her comfortable off-duty ensemble of light linen and Betazoid silk, always in soft colors. Madden stared at the ceiling, finding shapes reflected by the ambient light from through her window.

There was an argument on deck thirteen with a pair of roommates arguing about socks. A female couple was trying to decide which of them would have the baby. A crewman in engineering was worrying about a fight with her mother. People were making love, doing paperwork, trying to decide what to eat or which holodeck program to choose. On a surface level, everyone knew these things were happening, but Madden experienced so much of it almost as though she was in the room. Most humanoids were passionate beings, and their thoughts of the Here and Now were loud and filled with conviction: their personal Here and Now was the centerpiece of the universe and they treated it accordingly. She didn't have to try to get the whole story; it came flowing through into her.

She pushed herself up, and wandered to the small bathroom. The CMC's quarters weren't large by any stretch of the imagination, but they were comfortable and spacious compared to those of the enlisted crew and even compared to the junior level officers: after all, she was on her own, no bunkmates and with her own amenities, her own things.

Looking in the mirror was always a little surprising, primarily because she didn't look anywhere near as old as she sometimes felt. Although exhaustion could be seen around her eyes and in the line of her mouth, she was as presentable as anyone, and just looking at her, one would never expect the trails in her life, past or present.

She pulled open the mirror, taking the small black bag out from behind it, unzipping it and glancing through the medication vials held inside. Several were filled with the telepathic inhibitors her doctors had long encouraged her to take, but Madden always felt like another person when she did: another person with cotton stuck in her ears. The inhibitors would be hard to get used to, and she was afraid of dependency, afraid that it would set her back, afraid that she would forget too easily the methods she'd so long used to keep herself in control. And if that happened, where would she be if her past came back to haunt her, if she found herself in another prison or once again cornered in a Jeffery's tube junction by the Diparthu or a similar being.

Madden mentally winced as her thoughts pulled away from those of the others on board and focused on her own memories, her mind replaying the events on DS5 a little more than a year earlier.

The humans had a saying: the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. It was that fear that kept her from the inhibitors whenever she could help it.

And she could help it now. So instead, she selected one of the others, a cocktail of pain relievers she'd long ago began to mix in order to combat the worst of the headaches, only strong enough so as it could take the edge off. She needed just enough to give her a few moments of rest, to put her in a place when the voices blurred together and the roar was relaxing more than anything else, like a noise machine or the ocean beach.

She slipped the vial into the hypospray and then moved back into her bedroom, sitting down on her bed and the pressed it against her neck, setting it on the night table as she lay down, pulling the blankets over her. The medication ran through her coldly for a nanosecond or two, and a few moments later, she sighed as the pain noticeably lifted and the gentle haze settled over her mind, encouraging sleep which she welcomed with open arms.

"When You Wish Upon a Star -- You Just Might Get Burned"

Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Chief Counselor

CMC Madden Jayce
Chief of the Boat

---

If it weren't for the grin on his face, or the fact that he was making no effort to shield his thoughts, Brian might have appeared angry. He knew he had reason to be, but the end result with his date with Andy had been positive. There was still a lot to learn about the man, and from what little Andy had said, it appeared like there might not be much opportunity to do so. Yet, things had taken just a slight step in the right direction and for that, Brian was happy.

"You know I should demand an explanation or something like that," he said. He was leaning, arms crossed, against the frame of Madden's door, just after it slid open and she appeared from within. There really was no need to explain what he was talking about.

Madden was wrapped in her silk robe, still half asleep, her hair tangled, obviously having been rousted from sleep. "Maybe, but you're too excited about it to do that," Madden said. "You're Betazoid, you knew what I was doing, even if you don't want to admit it." She brushed a piece of hair from her face, spending a couple second trying to smooth it down before she sighed softly. "Come on in. Tell me about it; let me make some tea."

"I knew nothing of the sort," he said nonchalantly, following her into her quarters. "I mean, yeah, I've come to terms with the fact that you're enjoying playing matchmaker, but orchestrating a meeting based on false pretense? That's pretty bold even for you, Mad. What if he'd've reacted differently? You were taking a gamble that he was at all interested in seeing me again." He flopped onto her couch. "Or maybe you weren't. Who knows with you..."

She raised a silent eyebrow as she lifted the tea pot and then the bottle of water she kept, pouring it in, then putting it on the hotplate.

"I don't do something if I don't know the results will be good," she said, voice still heavy. "You should know that. So how was it? He going to stick around, you think?"

"Don't know," he answered honestly, lying on his back and gazing at her ceiling. "You know as well as I do he's a very closed man -- certainly the most guarded Betazoid I've ever met, and one of the most guarded all around. But he made a few comments that suggested he's not planning to be here much longer." Brian sighed lightly, thinking it all through again. "There's this little voice in the back of my mind that's flailing its arms and shouting, 'Danger! Danger!', but I'm ignoring it. Andy's a mystery, but an intriguing one."

"Sometimes you need to live on the edge," Madden said. "I have your back, and I wouldn't have introduced you if I thought it was a horribly dangerous edge." She paused, picking up the tea kettle and pouring the water into two cups, the tea bags set carefully inside them. She handed one to Brian as she settled onto the sofa, head against a raised hand for a moment as her elbow rested on the upholstered arm. "He is certainly guarded," she said after a long silence, inhaling deeply. "I pried a little more than I should have." She shifted her gaze toward him. "But I think you might be good for each other."

"Heh. When he did finally choose to open up -- a *little* -- he was downright lascivious," Brian said, feigning a hint of scandal that was not at all how he felt.

An impish grin crossed his face as he sat up. "I had to ask for clarification, of course."

"Of course."

He sipped at his tea. It was warm going down, not unlike how he felt overall at the moment for a dozen different reasons -- the comfort of talking to Madden, the residual effects of the several glasses of wine he'd had with Andy... and of course, the thought of Andy himself.

"So aside from the fact that we're both good kissers, what makes you so sure we might be good for each other? I'm fairly open; he's in mental lockdown. I'm in Starfleet; he wants to stay as far out of Starfleet as he can. You sure about this?"

She offered a small smile as she watched him, curled up almost cat like against the edge of the sofa, legs tucked up tight.

"Things don't have to work out happily ever after for it to be a good idea, Brian," Madden said with a soft sigh. "You have to trust me a little bit, I'm at this point in my life where I just want to make sure the people I love are happy. You know what I mean?" She stifled a yawn. "Even if it's just for small moments. I don't know if Andy is the end-all for you. In all honesty, he probably isn't. You're so different. But I think that on one level, those differences make it so that you can do amazing for each other. You can open him up a little. He can close you down a little. I love you just as you are, you know that, but I worry about you sometimes."

"Worry? About me?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Of course," she said. "I don't give my heart to many people. You're my best friend, you are a member of my family. I deeply love you. You're always there; you were there when we were strangers and I needed someone most. I worry." She brushed at her eyes briefly. "Because you're surrounded by people but you're lonely. Even if you... don't admit it, you are." She shrugged. "And Andy's interesting. And he's a little lost." She rubbed her temple. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Brian knew himself -- and Madden -- well enough to know there was no point in arguing. She was right. He was lonely. But acknowledging that only seemed to raise more concerns in his mind. The stakes were a lot higher when it felt like you had more to lose.

"It's alright...I like it when you ramble," he said off-handedly. He sipped at his tea a couple more times in silence, suddenly wondering if this whole Andy thing was a good idea after all. "You know," he began with just the slightest hesitation in his voice, "the last time I dated someone it didn't turn out so good. Heh, started on this very ship, in fact," he quietly noted, reconnecting for a split second with the Galaxy he knew a long time ago. "And you know how the whole thing with Kate played out. There's a point at which you have to wonder if the most mature thing to do is to accept the fact that loneliness may be your most steadfast companion, and that to hope otherwise is nothing more than fantasy." He hated the words, but he couldn't deny thinking them on far more than one occasion. "Maybe that's really all Andy is, a fantasy, a dream... a hope. Some say it's easier to put your hope in something the odds are against ever having. Makes it easier to understand when the fantasy doesn't come true."

"We all need our fantasies," Madden said. "And sometimes, we need to be prepared for them not to work out; but in doing something to try to make them real, we're able to learn about ourselves." She cleared her throat, frowning, her forehead creased as she looked down into her tea cup. "I was engaged, once. And then the war happened and the Dominion... and I was captured. Starfleet assumed the worst, you know, the Dominion destroyed most of the other escape pods so I was listed KIA. He waited, he did, he was good about it, but when the war ended and they liberated our camp... it was two years. Two years and some change by the time all the information got back to the Federation. And at that point, he'd finally started to move on. He was dating this cute Andorian woman. A botanist. You know-- the type of woman others hate? Beautiful and smart and... sweet even. The dream girl. But he wanted to try us again, wanted to leave that and make it work. He felt obligated I guess. But I pushed him away. I wasn't what he needed anymore, despite what our fantasies said. At the time, I wasn't really what anyone needed. Except Starfleet; they needed a hero type, someone beautiful and smart and idealistic and brave. They thought I fit the bill." She cleared her throat. "He and I didn't work; but I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for the ones who loved me, for the ones who hurt me, for the one who I left. We are who we are because of our pain. And we are who we are because of the hope that helps us get through that." She brushed her eyes again. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You never told me about that before, Madden," Brian tenderly commented. Again, he was silent for a few moments. She *was* beautiful and smart and idealistic and brave... and just as fragile as anyone else. So was he. "I guess the only thing worse than hope becoming fantasy is when it becomes futility." He sighed, then smiled at her gently and made a lifting gesture with his cup of tea. "Here's to the ones who love us."

"Here's to life keeping us on our toes," Madden commented, raising her glass as well. "Gods, it's been a long day." She propped her head up, fingers threading through her bangs. "You?"

"Heh... yeah, actually." He'd almost forgotten that there had been a day before he met up with Andy. "And they only seem to be getting longer. Filling Karyn's shoes isn't a task anyone should aspire to." He cocked his head slightly. "What's been keeping you occupied?"

"Just the usual. We got about seventy Ducklings, scattered across the departments. Trying to keep tabs on all of them as the integrate into the crew. They're getting younger, Brian, I swear they're getting younger. And I am getting older. And my head is pounding."

Setting down his tea, Brian got up and walked to Madden's chair, gently rubbing her temples from behind. "Seventy, eh? And I thought a department full of counselors was tough," he said with a smirk. "They are getting younger, Mad, and I wish I could say we weren't getting older, but... Anyway, think of all the wisdom you can impart to them. Heh, someday you'll be the person they're referring to when they're telling *their* ducklings, 'I had this chief once...'."

"This *Master* Chief," Madden corrected, gently, smirking, as she stood, moving away from him, and she set the tea cup on the counter in her very small kitchen area. "I took some medication, s'why I'm a little out of it. I would have called you first, but I knew you were on your date." She winked. "And 70's just my newbies. You do realise, there's 567 enlisted crew members on this ship."

"Can't say I've ever counted before," he said, returning to his tea. "Hope you're practicing the fine art of delegation when you can."

"This is my job, Brian," Madden said, "I take care of these people. No one else is going to."

"No one's suggesting you shouldn't do your job, Madden, just that you shouldn't expect to do it entirely 'hands-on' at every moment of every day. That's what the chain of command is for... otherwise we'd all be reporting to Olivia Proctor everyday," he muttered.

"I'm not saying that's what you're suggesting; I'm saying that this is the way the enlisted ranks work. Officers don't understand. Besides me, how many non-coms do you know? The couple of crew who make the appointments behind the desk in your offices? The gold uniform that changes the light bulbs in your office? The officers don't really notice these people until something goes wrong. I make sure they're taken care of when they need to be." She cleared her throat, looking down at the ground. "Sorry. I'm -- sorry."

He looked at her for a moment as her friend, but unable to completely keep his counselor side out of it. "Madden, I hadn't noticed you were under so much stress. What did you say before about medication?" he queried, recalling her earlier comment.

"For the headache. It's nothing."

"Really? Something Doctor Burton prescribed?"

Madden looked at him a moment. "I need to get some sleep, Brian, I'm glad your date went well."

"Did you get a prescription from Kimberly?" he insisted.

"That is not something you get to ask me," she said.

"Since when did we have rules about what we could ask each other?"

"Since you asked something insulting, Brian!" Madden exclaimed.

"I'm sorry you took it that way, but I don't think it's particularly unreasonable to want to know that you're as okay as you like to let on," he countered, his tone matching hers.

"I sit on the senior staff, Brian, but I am not a senior officer. Kimberly Burton is not my Doctor," Madden stated.

"I don't really care *who* your doctor is, what I care is that if you're having stress-related difficulties that you're dealing with them in a healthy manner. I know you Madden; you forget sometimes that you have limits."

"Damnit Brian! Stop doing this to me! It's not STRESS!" Madden slapped her hand against the wall. "It's eight hundred voices echoing in my head at every fucking moment of the day! It's the fact that I'm hitting my limit and trying really hard to back away from it! Gods..."

She could call it -- or not call it -- whatever she wanted; Brian knew it was still nothing more than her own unique form of stress. What was important was how she was handling it.

"And I'm concerned that you're not succeeding," he replied, his voice calmer again. "Has it been getting worse?"

"You don't succeed at this, Brian," she whispered, "I'm fighting what is, in all honesty, a terminal disease. Of course it's getting worse. And you can tell this is something I want to talk about, and if I remember the last time we brought it up, you were quite excited about it too."

He sighed softly. "You need more help with this, Madden. I'll be your friend, I'll be your counselor, I'll be an uninvolved third party if you want, but something more needs to be done. What do you want?

"I just want to be normal, Brian, I want to be like you, that's all I've ever wanted," Madden said. "I need to get some sleep. I need to start my rounds in about four hours."

"Sleep then. We can talk about this more later."

"I can't wait."

He folded her gently into his arms for a few moments; when he finally let go, he left her so she could rest, a new burden now on his mind.

"The Group Disperses"

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara, XO
Lt. Cutter Kara'nin, Sciences
Lt. JG Victor Krieghoff, Security
Lt. JG Zev Raynor, Intelligence
Ensign Elissa Skylark, Sciences
Ensign Artim Shivar, Sciences
Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval, Sciences
Ensign Keldan, Operations

=====

For the first several minutes in the air, Cutter performed no work. He ran no scans, updated no maps. He barely even had his eyes open. He simply flew.

And it felt good. It had been nearly two years since he had experienced real air, real wind, and real sky. On the science station orbiting the black hole, there was a holodeck and he was forced to exercise his wings there. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for his research, and one he had been living with since his entrance into Starfleet. But there was nothing like real sky.

Eventually, he opened his eyes and scanned the area. He had been circling, so the field that the group had beamed into was still clearly visible. It was a clearing in the middle of a forest that thickened and thinned in the usual organic way. There was a small brook, carving its way through the trees not too far away, the bright sunlight reflecting off its trickling waters. And, then, there was a lone hill, jutting up from the earth, no more than a few kilometers away.

With his hand, he pulled out his tricorder and set it up to run a gamma ray spectroscopic scan on the small mountain. That would give him an idea of the mineral make up of the feature. Then, once he was closure, he could map its insides with a sonar scan, to determine if it held any valuable materials worth mining. After a few moments, the scan started to return preliminary results. Odd results. The hill contained a large amount of the materials that were used in duranium and tritanium alloys, significant amounts of volatiles, like hydrogen and oxygen, which wouldn't have been surprising, but the amount of nitrogen was. And there were also radioactive emissions, suggesting plutonium. Pure plutonium, like it was pre-refined.

Curious, he angled his flight path towards the mountain, but as he approached, the wind began to pick up. It picked up rather quickly. All of a sudden, he was fighting hurricane force winds, pushing him away from the mountain. Fearing his safety, Cutter turned away, and as he flew off, the winds died back down. So, he circled back once more, and again, as he approached the mountain, the winds intensified, pushing him away.

"Tarin," he said, tapping his communications badge, "I'm to your north-northwest. Are you experiencing any odd wind patterns?"

"No..." There was a bit of hesitation in her voice. "But I'm guessing you are?"

"There is a mountain in this direction," he explained, "Preliminary scans suggest it may contain a very bizarre combination of minerals, well worth a closer look, but it seems to be the source of a curious wind pattern. I can't approach it by air. Should I return and lead you there by ground?"

"Yeah..." Iniara began adjusting her tricorder, zooming out the map until Cutter's signal appeared on the small screen. He wasn't much more than two kilometers away, and if she squinted just right she could almost make out his silhouette in the sky. She briefly thought of asking Galaxy for a site-to-site transport in order to save some time, but then decided against it. The walk wasn't long, and she might find something interesting along the way. "All right. I'll start heading your way in a moment. Meet you halfway."

=====

Meanwhile...

Raynor broke away from the main group... something had caught his ear or rather it was the silence that was bothering him... and he couldn't help but get the feeling they were being followed... There was something missing considering the amount of vegetation they had encountered... Where in the hell was the wild life... Not a sound was being made by anything outside the elements and their little expedition...

He reached for the pouch strapped to his left thigh. Allowing the Tricorder to continue to scan the horizon as quietly as possible... he kept his communicator at the bare minimum audio level so only he could hear it to the chatter without scaring away any wildlife that might be hiding from them... and he waited for some sort of sound to be made...

And so he would wait while the others trekked ahead making an easy to follow trail where they went...

=====

Back at the main group...

She closed the channel, and then tapped her badge again. "Tarin to Krieghoff." Looking around, she saw that he was about a hundred meters away. Still within visible range, but far enough to make shouting impractical.

Victor glanced down at his tricorder display to check the location of the away team members, and responded. "Krieghoff here, Commander. Is there a problem?" If there was, it might be difficult to respond the way the away team was starting to spread out.

"Lieutenant Kara'nin and I are going to investigate a small mountain a few kilometers roughly north of here. Seems he's found something unique on this planet after all," she told him.

'Unique' - there was a word to make away team security personnel have nightmares. "Unique how, Commander? 'Threatening situation unique', 'interesting discovery unique', or 'Oh God we're all going to die' unique?" He hoped for Number Two, but, since he knew who he was and how the Divine felt about him, expected Number Three.

"Interesting discovery unique," Iniara replied, just barely succeeding in keeping a smile off her face. "The mountain seems to be composed of some unusual elements and it may be the source of an odd wind pattern."

"Understood." That just meant that it would, at some later point, switch to Number Three without warning. "Check in on the normal interval, and if you start to encounter hostile terrain cut the interval in half, please - we'll need all the response time we can get in the event there's a problem."

"Got it. Tarin out."

=====

Meanwhile...

Something felt very off... there was something definitely missing on this planet. It was M class, probably engineered, but still... Given the stage of development and the vegetation... there should be some sort of wild life. Animals... their absence could mean one of two things... either that when they made this planet they didn't bother adding wildlife... or something was following them.

Two possibilities if they were being followed... a predator... or the locals who pulled off this miracle. Either way it wasn't good. Either that... or he specifically was being followed.

Raynor put away the tricorder... it told him everything it knew. That there was nothing out there... he wasn't buying it. He listened intently for any sounds, and kept his eyes peeled for the signs of life. He kept his hands at his sides, within easy reach of his weapons...

=====

Miguel in the meantime was a happy little camper. Already in possession of an armful of select tubers and roots, he was busily bottling up samples of various plant life and beaming them back up to the Galaxy.

This is what Starfleet should be about, he mused to himself. Research....exploration.....and a touch of mystery.

Peering intently at a his collection, he began tagging them according to where they were found. On a hillside......under a bush.......growing on an exposed rock face.

Thinking back to his native El Salvador so far away, the young man had to marvel at how far he had come. Figuratively and Literally. ~~A long way form playing soccer in the streets Miguel.~~ he sighed happily. ~~A long way indeed.~~

"Great Hoo Has"

Lt. 8-ball Hunter
Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell

"Oh. My. GOD. Look, buddy, I don't know how you possibly managed to get through Starfleet Academy . . . scratch that, I don't know how you possibly managed to get through your freaking childhood . . .but while the art of Sciences covers a vast number of things, fixing a loose screw in your godamned replicator isn't one of them! I'm sorry that you asked for tortellini and ended up with fried turtle but that is not my freaking problem! Do me a favor: either call Engineering to fix your ENGINEERING PROBLEMS, or do EVERYONE a favor and jump out of an airlock before you pass on your FREAKING GENES TO ANYBODY ELSE! OKAY????"

Ensign Newman likely did not jump out of an airlock, but he did run away crying. 8-ball glared at the vacant space he had left and then at everybody else in the department who were quickly trying to disappear into the walls around them. She blew out a breath of air and tried to recollect her calm, but calm was a relatively foreign concept for her on the best of days, and this was not the best of days.

Irritated, 8-ball hit her comm badge. In the past, she might have gone to Ella about this, but as her wacky mute of a friend had decided to become a fighter pilot for god knows what reasons, she'd have to deal with a different drinking buddy. "Lt. Hunter to Lt. Roswell."

Nara had her stints as Acting Chief. Now she was making a simple replacement on a part of a replicator. In a rarely used rec room of the ship. Her only consolation was Saia would be at the birthday party it would be used for.

She was putting the panel back as she got the comm message. She hit her badge, "Yes, Lt?"

"Nara, you know I like you, right? You know I think you're a nice, intelligent, attractive young woman?"

Nara looked around. It was a good thing no one else was around. And considering her mood, Nara decided it would be nice to play some 8-Ball games. "Lt., I'm flattered, but I thought I made it clear to you I had a boyfriend."

Oh, 8-ball knew that Nara had a boyfriend. If Nara didn't, 8-ball would have long since jumped said boyfriend's bones, for curiousity's sake, if nothing else. But this would be untactful to mention. And 8-ball could be tactful, on very rare occasion.

"Yeah, yeah, boyfriend schmoyfriend. You gotta know that I'm better in the sack than he is. But you know, right, even though you have rejected all of my advances and settled on a guy much less . . . talented . . .than I am in certain areas, you know that you're still my favorite gal in the whole galaxy, right?"

Nara chuckled, "What do you want?"

"Well," 8-ball said, "a lot of things really, but none of which I think you can help me with, excep this one. And please understood, Nara, that as much as I love you, as fabulous as a person as I think you are, I'm getting really damn tired of doing your work."

Nara sighed. That hit a button and she was lost on any tone of sarcasm. She tried to keep her voice level, "What are you referring to, Lt.?"

"Sciences keeps getting calls from people wanting them to fix things for them. Replicators, sonic showers . . . you name it, we get called for it. Some moron actually asked me today if I could send someone to fix his Magic Fingers bed. HIS MAGIC FINGERS BED! I told him that we didn't do repairs. Then I asked where in the hell he got a Magic Fingers bed because man, I want in on that action."

8-ball sighed and took another breath. "Look, I know none of this is your fault. You are most certainly not responsible for the immense stupidity of this crew. But I was wondering if maybe you had any suggestions for how I could relate to people the vast differences between Engineering and Sciences. At the moment, all I can come up with is putting fliers up everywhere. Fliers that say in big bold letters, "Stop bothering me, you nitwits."

"Well, we can add more red tape and everyone can pester Operations, then Operations can direct them to the right department. If their plant is dying, Sciences; tummy ache, medical; nervous breakdown, counseling; being stalked, security; broken...magic fingers bed, engineering." Nara shook her head, "God. It's not Kastanza is it? He could fix that himself. He just wants..." Nara cut herself off remembering while she may be alone, 8-Ball may be in the middle of Sciences surrounded by people.

8-ball could have a converstion about the proper size of a Bolian's blue balls in front of a thousand schoolchildren without feeling any shame, but she didn't mind that Nara failed to elaborate. There were some things in life that she didn't need to imagine, and Kastanza rolling around on a vibrating bed was waaaaaay at the top of the fucking list.

"No," 8-ball said. "Thank God. It wasn't him. Actually, the guy was pretty cute. . .never mind. Focus. I'm focusing here, really." 8-ball cleared her throat. "Anyway. Got anything else for me?"

"You could talk to Operations and see if we can send out a ship wide message about this. Maybe hold a seminar with free cakes. People like free cakes." Nara found herself smiling. There were a few friends she had that, while there were no real sentimental ties, they were nice to have around. She hadn't seen her quirky side in too long.

"Free cakes are, most definitely, a plus," 8-ball said. "And now that I'm thinking about it, Lieutenant Magic Fingers Man was in Operations . . . maybe I will have a chat with the little boy. That could be entertaining." She grinned. "Thanks for the suggestion, Nara. I knew you'd know what to do."

"Well, at least someone does." There was bitterness there, but Nara would be a little surprised if 8-Ball didn't brush it off.

8-ball raised an eyebrow. There was . . . something . . .in that tone, and 8-ball wasn't sure if it was being thrown at her or not. She wasn't in the mood to be attacked, so she was really hoping that Nara was pissed at somebody else.

"Something on your mind, Nara?" she asked.

Nara sighed, "Nothing you can help with. What are you doing after your shift?"

"No plans," 8-ball said. "Come drink your sorrows with me?"

"Sounds like a fun night."

8-ball raised an eyebrow, almost wounded.

"It's me," 8-ball said. "Of course it sounds like a fun night."

"Moving On"

Lt. Commander Corran Rex
Lieutenant Ella Grey

****

Hangar
-------------

A Few weeks ago...

Ella wiped her hands on her overalls and examined her work. True, she could call on other people now to do repairs to her fighter but it wasn't as if she had anything better to do. Busy work, as always, helped the demons.

~Hi~~ She signed as she saw Rex pass her. In the past couple of days, she had only been speaking when absolutely necessary. She found that less dependency on the voice implant was actually helping to improve her mood.

Unfortunately Rex didn't seem to approve. His frown deepened with every sign or computer PADD entry.

"Hey." he said. "Sorry - I know you've got your reasons, but I wish you'd use that new modulator I programmed for you."

~~I know~~ Ella signed. ~~But ... I don't know if I can explain it~~

"I don't understand it," he admitted, cutting her off before she could really try to go into it. "And I probably never will. But it's your choice, Ella." Simple familiarity, these last few months as she worked on the flight deck alongside the rest of the squadron, had begun to return their relationship to something resembling friendship.

She nodded. It was her choice but she was glad he didn't seem to be pushing anything.

Ella then grinned and signed something else.

"I know, I know." he said, and started to look around the flight deck a little bit. The wistful expression on his face couldn't be missed.

That was when she notice what looked different about him. He was in a Standard 'Fleetie uniform, instead of the flight jacket that was uniform-of-the-day for fighter pilots. And his collar was red, not white, with two gold and one hollow black pip of a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander, instead of the silver leaf of an SFFC major.

~~Someone stole your uniform!~~ Ella signed with wide eyes.

"Not quite." he chuckled. "I'm moving upstairs, taking over tactical. An old buddy of mine from the Rogues should be here soon to take over down here. I'm just taking care of some final things before announcing it to the squadrons."

~~But you worked today?~~

"Because the old Tac officer - Todd? She already got pulled for a new assignment, so until Queilu gets here, I'm pulling double duty."

Ah, she mouthed. Ella didn't know how she quite felt about him leaving. It was awkward but she had almost come to believe that they could work through that. Now she was left with Angie.

Oh well.

~Congratulations~~ Ella signed and then held out her hand.

He accepted it in the spirit it was given. "Thanks. And - by the way - as one of my last official acts, I wanted to be the one to tell you. Your efficiency scores have been high enough in your last few sims. Congratulations, Ella - you're off S&R duty. You're officially assigned as Vanguard Two now."

Ella grinned. ~~Thank you. I still wouldn't mind helping S&R every now and again though.~~

"Because of Ordellan?" he asked bluntly.

Her smile faltered. ~~Yes, because of Ordellan.~~

The rookie pilot had been Ella's first live rescue, but he hadn't survived the second crash. "He wasn't your fault, Ella."

"I know that," She replied with her mechanical voice. "But that doesn't mean I can't try to be better. Practice makes perfect, right?"

Rex smiled fondly. There would always be something between him and Ella, he was sure. Friendship? Maybe. But something different than that, something not so definable. It wasn't awkward anymore, but it wasn't what it had been, either. Where did two people go, after having been what they were, and knowing that was a lie? "Hey, that's the whole idea of the service."

Ella smiled. "I bet you five bucks you'll be back here within a month just begging to borrow a fighter for a few hours."

"Commanders don't beg, Lieutenant." He remarked officiously.

~~See ya around~~ Ella signed.

There was a universe of emotion in those simple hand gestures. In the looks, the body language, everything that passed between them that needed no actual words. "Yeah." he said quietly. "See you."

As she turned and walked away, he couldn't help but let his eyes pass over her body. No fantasy was required, of course, the memories were plentiful enough. He found, for the first time that such thoughts brought no pain, but just a fond memory.

Looking around the flight deck, Corran expected to feel those pangs when he thought of the life he was leaving behind. The squadron he'd built from the ground up, the life, the beauty, the danger, the thrill of one-on-one starfighter combat, or just the absolute exhilaration of flying through the stars with strapped onto an engine, some phasers and a thin cockpit being all that was between you and eternity.

But he didn't.

It was, it seemed after all, time to move on.

"Resilient"

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell
Engineer

"She really said all that?"

The couple were sitting at Saul's quarters, over a cup of nice orange juice with Jazz music in the background that totally contradicted Saul's current mood. Nara was just telling him about her recent conversation with the Chief Engineer, and he was getting more agitated by the minute.

Nara finished telling Saul about her conversation with Dhani. She tried to keep her expression and tone the same as with Dhani: level. She failed. She felt the heat in her face, the frustration cracked her voice. "At least she's better than O'shea's clone. She wasn't mean about it." She leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing to get a hold of herself.

He grimaced, recalling the attractive half-Trill engineer which came to help him fix stuff in his quarters and ended up battling the weather controls. She seemed nice at the time. Even cute. Of course he wasn't going to tell Nara that, especially after the story she just told.

"What a stupid, patronizing attitude." Saul stated. Miramon's words echoed in his mind - 'You always turn red when you're angry'. He learnt to control his anger much more after that statement, but it was getting harder by the second now.

"Who was in charge of engineering during the battle of ch'Rihan?" He pursued. "And on Barzan? She has quite a nerve, leaving her command behind TWICE and then returning for some criticism. You know what I told Raynor when I got back on board? I said 'Thank you'. After that I checked how he functioned, but first I said 'Thank you'. Did she say thanks?"

Nara thought a moment. "It's a nice sentiment, Saul. But I was doing my job. No thanks is required."

"No, you did HER job as well. And now she's off for the third time, and put Hwii in charge of things. Brilliant. You know, some parts of Starfleet realized that rank is not the only criteria for position. That's why Iniara is the executive officer of this ship and why Colonel Eliathin is a bloody branch directed at SFI. Beemet!"

Nara looked at Saul. She wondered who was taking this worse: her or him. The only reason she thought Hwii was a bad choice was physical limitations. Now if Starfleet could think of a way for the dolphins to move about without the need of a pool and aqua tunnels, then Hwii should be Chief.

Saul continued to talk, seeing that Nara fell silent. "You said she told you she was ashamed on how you acted toward the other officers while you were in charge. Well, the shoemaker walks barefoot, does she not. Perhaps I should offer Raynor a tour in Engineering and see how she handles it."

Thing probably felt his new owner's inner storm, because it decided to promptly land on his nose. The grey fur tickled Saul, making burst into a series of coughs. They were so strong that Thing was actually flung in Nara's direction.

"Did I introduce you to my new roommate?" Saul smiled, the frustration in him slightly subsiding. "It's from Barzan. Me and Nyoko share it. It's one of a kind."

Nara was about to ask what the barefoot statement meant when the the little thing came at her. She noticed it, but didn't ask anything. She looked at it oddly. She looked at Saul, gauging if it was ok to ask questions.

"Nyoko says it's 'Kawaii'. Like it?" Saul asked.

"I don't know yet."

"Just keep your mental shields up when it's around." Saul advised mysteriously.

She was curious about his statement, but decided not to pry any further. The Thing was, all in all, just a piece of fluf. A rare one, but nothing more.

When she looked at Saul again, he seemed to be contemplating something.

"You know what?" He asked, looking up at her. "You're a skilled officer. You have many places that can use your expertise aboard this ship. When I had problems with my superior, Henderson shifted me to Tactical. It turned out to be a very good move for everyone involved. Tac got a dept. head who stayed for more than a few months, and I eventually got back to intelligence. Think about it - Jamson and 8-Ball could use someone with your knowledge and leadership skills, the marines have no combat engineer that I'm aware of and I think they have an opening for a squad leader or a platoon leader. Also..."

Nara looked at the piece of fluff again and reached out a hand. It writhed, but didn't resist her touch.

Saul bit his lower lip, knowing that once the proposal came out it would be hard to pull it back again. Words are irreversible.

"Also, with everything that's going on with Eve, and with Shtazai transferring, intelligence may need a second technical officer. At least temporarily."

Nara sighed and pulled her legs up to hug them. "On some starships they run this experiment where officers take other roles. Tactical officers are medical officers, commanders are engineers, etcetera for a week or so. I can see about dipping my hands in the other departments." She smiled at Saul, "Would look good on my record too."

"Princess, the battle of ch'Rihan should look good in your service record... but I'm glad you approve. If you need me to whisper in somebody's ear let me know, although I'm sure that everyone would love to take you without my intervention."

Nara smiled and sat closer to him, "What happened with the whole 'if you get in trouble, I won't help' bit of our deal?" She even lowered her voice as she quoted him.

"It's my choice whether to help or not, not my obligation." Saul shrugged. "Besides, it's much easier to help when your career is on the line, not your life."

She though oddly about that, but shrugged it off and kissed his cheek, "We both know I wouldn't ask. But thank you for the sweet offer."

He smiled sheepishly. This bold woman in front of him will soon regret making that agreement with him. The people back on Utrecht III were increasing their pressure, as tensions rose toward the REDISTRIBUTION. If Devoss sent Doron after him, the next logical step would be to use Nara against him. It wouldn't be the first time a Bental uses one's lover as leverage on him. In fact, Saul intended to do just that when the time comes.

"So what do you intend to do next?" He asked Nara, mindlessly reaching out for Thing. It eluded his fingers.

"Work and study. Talk to Dallas about an attitude adjustment." She sighed at the last one. She kicked against the goad in her mind.

"I guess these remote-study courses couldn't hurt. Perhaps you can even start working on a Master's degree in engineering in your spare time - if it interests you, of course."

Saul fell silent, carressing her silky hair. He consider intervening even without Nara's consent, but rejected the idea. He would've been quite irritated if Lali's rich parents or Lysandra's influential uncle had tried to meddle with his own professional decisions regarding the two talented women's careers. From Saul's personal experience, such action usually achieved the opposite results.

There were indirect ways he could help here, though. Perhaps hint some of his higher-up contacts the specific engineers from the Galaxy - namely, Nara's competition - could do miracles on their owns ships.

"You are taking this much better than I do. Tell THAT to Captain Dallas."

Nara smiled and kissed his cheek again. "I'm pretty resilient."

"Resilient, are we?" Saul smirked slyly, standing up. Thing must've sensed that his owner was out to get him, because it fled to the bathroom. Saul closed the door behind him, then turned back to Nara. He rubbed his hands together.

"Resilient, you say? We'll see about that."

Nara smiled at Saul. "The question is, how resilient are you?"

"The Rescue"

Lt. Ella Grey, Vanguard 2
Flight Officer John Davidson, Vanguard 10

(Additions by Kat)

****
Crash Site
The Planet
****

The oddest thing about the crash site was how quickly the slience returned. Other than the light rustling of leaves in the wind and John's slow, measured breathing, there were no sounds to complement the destruction that lay all around. No squawking of birds whose homes had been destroyed, no chattering of squirrels or chipmunks who had been knocked from their perches. Even the normally conspicuous buzzing of insects around a fresh source of blood was absent.

But then, around him, the forest suddenly came alive. Broad, flat tree leaves appeared greener than usual as they stretched to the sky, the branches that held them slowly intertwining to fill the gap through which the remaining parts of the fighter craft had fallen. On the ground, tiny seedlings began to emerge from the moist soil, forming concentric rings around the pulsating light of the emergency beacon. Slowly, erratically, translucent vines began to thread their way down trees and across the ground. A group of them reached for the broken and discarded ejector seat, thin tendrils seeming to probe the seat for some unknown reason.

John continued to sleep peacefully, oblivious to the changes that were happening all around him. A vine began to descend from the tree he was leaning against, the fuzzy tip slowly poking its way through his hair and across his face. Unconsciously the pilot reached up and pawed at his face, pushing the vine away, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep. Undaunted, the vine continued on its journey. It had caught the scent of delicious food; nothing could stop it now.

Ah, yes, there it was...

The speed of its movements now almost perceptible to the naked eye, the vine stretched lower and wrapped itself around the food source, the beacon which had been calling out to it: the Starfleet commbadge fastened to JD's flight jacket. Tugging with all its might the vine released the badge, then slowly began to pull it upward. The tree came alive then, its insides almost glowing as the vine returned to its source. Rough bark fractured and divided as the vine pulled the food inward. A moment later the fissure closed, leaving behind nothing more than a slight impression, vaguely shaped like a Starfleet delta, in its side.

Exhausted, the vine dropped limply onto John's shoulder, its work complete.

John woke with a start. His whole body tingled as if someone, or something, was out there. His eyes scanned the area around him but came up empty. He still couldn't shake the feeling though.

His leg was starting to throb a bit, the pain killers obviously having worn off. He didn't dare trying that again, given how easily he had fallen asleep. So he was just going to have to bear the pain. John looked up, hoping to tell how long he had slept based on how light it was. He sucked in a large breath of air when he saw that the large hole he had aimed at when he had come in to land was gone. The canopy was a thick layer of branches and leaves. He could just make out the parachute up there trapped between several branches. It was odd. He could have sworn there had been a gap there. Had the pain in his leg made him hallucinate as he crash landed?

Sighing at the creepy thought that he wasn't alone here, he leaned back against the tree, closed his eyes and rested his hands upon his chest. JD's eyes shot open instantly as his hands flew about his chest trying to locate his commbadge. It had been there before he had gone to sleep. Hadn't it? He looked about, trying to find it. Nothing but leaves and dirt. And one sad looking ejection seat. Was that a vine entangled around it?

A noise in the distance drew his eyes. Something was flitting between the trees. And it was heading his way. He reached down to a side pocket in his trousers and pulled out the small hand phaser that he always carried with him. His rationale behind it was similar to that of a condom. 'It was better to have one and not need it, than to need one and not have it.'

John quickly checked the power level. He frowned. The power level was down on what it should have been. Either someone had used it, or there definitely was something weird going on. With a shrug, he raised the weapon towards the approaching person, ready to fire if needed.

"Whoa," She said, throwing up her hands as she approached to show that they were weaponless. Ella then considered how befuddled the man might be after a crash landing and added that it was her and not some Borg drone.

John saw the flight suit of the approaching woman and relaxed a little. Looks like they had found him.

"Hold still," Ella said, reaching out to check his pulse, watch his eyes, make sure he wasn't about to start puking blood or something. "What's your name? Tell me how you got here."

"John Davidson, Flight Officer. That," he roughly pointed in the direction of the ejection seat, "is all that's left of my fighter."

Ella looked in the direction of the fighter and pursed her lips. She quickly ran through all the tricks of her training and picked the one she thought had the best chance of keeping her lunch down. "How are you feeling? Sick? Dizzy?"

"My leg's broke. And I feel like I'm gonna puke." he said.

"I can give you something for both until we get you back to Sickbay," She replied, opening her kit.

"AC? My wingman... is he okay?"

His wingman was currently a candidate for the new Red Asphalt 2384 but she didn't think he needed to know that. "I'm sorry, he didn't make it."

John's head drooped at the news. AC might have been young, but he had a lot riding for him. He tried to rise, needing to find AC's body. To get his dogtags, if only to return them to his parents.

"John," Ella said firmly. "I need you to keep very still. I need to make sure your not bleeding internally or have any other broken bones."

John nodded in compliance. As much as he wanted to, he knew he wasn't likely to get far on a busted leg. "I've been here for several hours at least. If I had internal bleeding, I think I should be dead by now."

"You'd think," She replied. "But the body likes to surprise us every now and again. I'm going to check the leg so hold still."

John lay there as the young woman worked over his leg, applying a salve and setting a splint. She sure knew what she was doing. That was for sure. Something bugged him about the woman though... Her voice. It was more mechanical in nature. Not like most, heck any Terrans he knew. "Um, at the risk of losing my ride out of here, can I ask you something?"

"Why I use the vocal implant?" Ella asked without out looking up from the leg.

"Um... yeah." John replied kinda sheepishly. By the way she had known what he was going to ask, it was more than likely she had been asked about it lots of times by a whole host of people.

Ella looked thoughtful. "Well, I suppose because it's because its harder to mime when you're a pilot." She flashed a smile and then nodded. "This looks good to travel. Should we go?"

"Sounds good to me. I want to pick up AC's dogtags if I can. He parents might want them. Sentimental I know, but it feels right."

"I'll get the dogtags," Ella said. "You stay put."

John nodded and watched as she headed away from his crash site. A minute passed, and then another, and another. And still she didn't return. He wondered just how far away AC's fighter went down. Surely it hadn't been that far. She'd be back soon. He was sure of it. Using the tree as a boost, he managed, with a slight twinge of the leg, to get himself to a standing position. With most of his weight on the uninjured leg, the broken one was resting on what was left of the pile of leaves that he had built up before falling asleep.

He looked about, his eyes peering into the depths of the forest, trying to find her. No luck. In fact, he heard no sound at all. No birds, no insects. There was no wind whistling through the branches, no sounds of water bubbling along in a stream, as often was found in a forest. It was dead quiet. Ominously quiet. And John felt, for one of the first times in his life, truly scared. Nothing should have been that quiet. Nothing!

Rubbing his hand against the tree trunk to try and get some feeling back into it, it had gotten pins and needles while he leant upon the tree, he felt a slight indentation. Sure, most trees had anomolies in their bark, knots, branches that had broken off and the like, but this felt different; the shape more symetrical. Moving forward, he took a closer look. It looked... No, it couldn't be... Could it? It looked like the shape of his commbadge. But that was impossible. Wasn't it?

"Hey."

John jumped back a good half a meter, remembering at the last minute to step onto his uninjured foot as he landed. He had been so intent on the shape of the indentation, that he had not heard her approach. "You scared the crap out of me."

"As you deserved," Ella said. "What part of stay put didn't you understand, Flyboy?"

"I got anxious waiting to get out of here." He shrugged. "Did you have any luck?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't find them at first." Again she didn't add because it was hard to tell where to look, there were so many pieces.

Taking a last little look around, he nodded. He was ready to go. "Let's get out of here."

"All I Got Was This Lousy Shirt, Part 1"

First Lieutenant Steven Jonas, Marine

Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe, Engineering Officer

****

Steven's Quarters

****

The contents of the bottle sloshed around as he drew the neck of the bottle to his lips for another drink. "You know... My life sucks." His words were slurred and every second or third word was not understandable, but that didn't really matter, for his drinking buddy looked to be in just as bad a shape.

"Nah, nah itdan't" Kala interjected. Leaning forward, wobbling as she gestured with her full hand. Pausing she glanced down at the puddle she had made on the floor. Sheepishly she looked back up at Steven, but he hadn't noticed… yet. Looking around, her head bobbing as she did she spied a rather dead looking pot plant. With raised eyebrows, signifying her happiness upon finding another she quickly, well quick was a relevant term at this point in time, grabbed the plant and relocated it to it's new home… covering the stain on the carpet. Once satisfied she tapped it affectionately before shuffling to Stevens side, completely oblivious to the fact she was spilling more and more of the contents of her glass on the floor as she did.

"Isss all gooood." she slurred coming to rest at his feet. She placed a hand on his knee as a gesture of support and gave him a lopsided smile, followed by a hic-up - to which she giggled at.

Steven shook his head. "Yes, it is. I have nothing. No dignity, no... hic... lover, no life... And now my... hic... health is falling hard. And all I got out of it was this lousy shirt."

Kala looked up at the mention of the shirt and nodded trying to keep a straight face, yet failing miserably, "Ya not wrong… it's a lou… low.. lousssssy shirt." she nodded in agreement. For a moment she pulled several faces, assessing how her mouth moved. Poking out her tongue she frowned as she tried to look at it, "I fink m' tongue s' numb." she informed him.

Steven laughed, spilling more of his drink over himself. He looked at Kala, noticing that her eyes were glazed a little. She was drunk. "Show me." he said as he tried to look like he was some scientist investigating some new fancy discovery.

Turning with her tongue still hanging out she face him fully and tilted her head to the side so he could take a closer inspection.

He looked at her tongue and poked it gently with his finger. "Lookes fined to mee." he said as he nearly fell over.

Kala rocked back, pointing at him she clutched her stomach and roared with laughter. "You stupid!" she remarked pushing his shoulder and making him rock from side to side, completely unsteadily.

"Puter, music, somefink sad" Steven said suddenly, his words barely making sense.

Nothing happened.

Well almost nothing. Kala burst into laughter and after a few seconds, Steven joined her. "I fink myne is numm too." he slurred between laughs.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, lemmie look it." Kala said totally overexcited as she bounced on her haunches in front of him.

"She hates me." he said after a moment of silence, his speech sounding almost sober but for a moment. "I keep finking about her all time." He slapped at his head trying to get her out.

Kala grabbed his ear and pulled him towards her. Like a cave inspector she began to look inside holing an imaginary torch with one hand. "Nope." she concluded with a shake of her head, "no one's in ver!" she reported in an almost child like voice. "It's all empty… oh dear!" she exclaimed. Letting his ear go she watched as his body almost bounced back into the position he had been in. "What ya gonna do?" she asked nodding towards his ear, "If ver is nofink in ver yous is gots a problems." She said blinking several times whilst swaying slightly.

"What you mean is empty? Was there a minute ago. I fink." He started looking around frantically trying to find it. "Where it go?"

He wobbled about the small room, hunting for it, but finding nothing. Then his eyes landed on his sniper rifle and a thought hit him. A way to solve all his problems. With shaky hands he drew the weapon from the floor, his fingers running the length of it, feeling the texture under his fingers. "Here is it." he said, holding it lengthwise, looking down the barrel. "It's in here...Where's the button to open the door?" he asked.

"Stay Connected"

Lieutenant (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer

Lieutenant Hwii, Acting Chief of Engineering (NPC)

*****Main Engineering*****

There were people on the planet. She wasn't sure why, but she envied them. Engineers hardly got asked on away missions. She heard a chirp and any daydreaming she would had allowed herself went out the window.

She walked over to the pool and stood at attention.

Hwii scolded her the first time she addressed him. At ease wasn't even good enough. He wanted attention. She couldn't take this personally. He asked that of everyone.

Though, she was certain he took special pleasure in causing her the silly formalities.

"We need to boost the signal from the away team on the planet."

She saluted, "Aye."

It was ironic that everyone was expected to salute and he wasn't even physically capable of doing so himself. It was just an excuse, she was sure.

Nara walked over to a console and started working at strengthening the signal. As she worked, she noticed a power drain.

"What are you doing Junior!"

She wasn't sure if it was regulation to use the term. It was widely known that even junior grades were called lieutenants. It was clear by the pips they weren't full lieutenants, but including the junior grade or even j.g. was cumbersome. It didn't matter.

She answered him quickly, "There is a power drain."

"Why wasn't I informed?"

Nara swallowed but stayed level, "I apologize, Lieutenant."

"Report."

"It's slow, but increasing. I suggest we try to take care of it now."

After a moment, there was another chirp. It wasn't translated as it was just a wordless acknowledgement.

She worked at it. Her face was a mixture of confusion and triumph, only to be frustration as she thought she was doing something, only to have it drop again.

Reluctantly, she spoke, "Lieutenant Hwii. I need assistance."

It killed her to do that, but there was more at stake than her pride and ego.

"Vanguard"

van*guard

-noun
1. the foremost division or the front part of an army; advance guard; van.
2. the forefront in any movement, field, activity, or the like.

Lieutenant Jarajen "Quattro" Quaaliu, CAG, Vanguard One

Final approach, USS Galaxy
=====================

~So… this is the nefarious Galaxy.~

Nefarious was perhaps too harsh a word, the Nassari pilot mused as he made some minor adjustments on his navigational panel. Infamous was a little more appropriate. Since his formal release from the Saturn Flight School, Jarajen had made some discrete inquiries about the ship on which he was about to serve. The opinions offered had ranged from a detailed list of the starship's accomplishments to outright, uncontrollable laughter. The 'Old Rogues' from his days on the Miranda were especially vague on the subject. "They're a different bunch… you'll see."

'Different' was of no consequence to the Nassari. A four-armed man in an alien, two armed world Jarajen Quaaliu dealt with 'different' every day away from his homeworld.

The Galaxy was just a small cluster of pixels on his HUD, but her presence still brought a slight grin on Jarajen's face. Questionable or no, she was still a starship serving on the Federation's frontier and not a starbase. Her performance at ch'Rihan, and that of her fighter wings, had been significant against the Triad armada. She was a ship-of-the line, geared for exploration but rigged for war - it was all he required.

=^= Vanguard One, this is Galaxy flight control. You are cleared for secondary approach on heading zero-mark-zero-one-eight.=^=

Another grin. Protocol was protocol after all, and it looked like the Galaxy's flight control was at least by-the-book. Somehow that was comforting. "Roger that Galaxy control. Commencing secondary approach on the same heading, reducing speed to three-hundred meters-per-second."

Now by the minute, the image of the giant starship grew from a few pixels to a discernable shape. She was smaller than the Midway, but possessed a certain grace the larger starships seemed to lack. But for all the finesse of her lines, what concerned the Nassari most about the Galaxy was the condition of her fighter wings. Jarajen had known Corran Rex sinec the Dominion Wars, and the Trill wasn't one to change posts lightly. He hadn't just commanded the Vanguards, he had created them from nothing. The Trill was a careful, meticulous leader and had shepherded his charges well over the last half decade. It would make the transition both efficient and challenging for all concerned. Some would take the adjustment well. Others?

It had been different on the Midway. Wolf squadron was established from veterans from a number of pre-existing flight wings. Each had hundreds of hours flight experience in addition to their academy training. The Vanguards on the other hand were recruited from existing staff on the Galaxy, and a number of their current pilots had similar transfers.

Engineer-pilots.

Operations-pilots.

Navagation-pilots.

Jarajen was taken from his musings by the growing intensity of the Galaxy's strobing running lights. Now solidly in visual, he could see the small orange rectangle that was the ship's shuttle-bay, exactly between the Galaxy's warp nacelles. If there was one thing that made his skin itch, it was having to navigate between two large warp-field generators to launch and land his fighter-craft. Still, if that was the only complaint…

"Galaxy control, this is Vanguard One. Commencing landing sequence, and reducing speed to ten meters-per-second."

=^= Roger that Vanguard One, you are cleared for landing. Welcome to the Galaxy sir.=^=

As the fighter's automated landing sequence initialized, Jarajen reflected that the coming days would be most interesting should the Kej grant him the patience to endure the shortage of Pilot-pilots in the Aerospace Group.

Should he lack the patience required, he hoped that the wing had at least one Medic-pilot for such a contingency.

"All I Got Was This Lousy Shirt, Part 2"

Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe, Engineering Officer
First Lieutenant Steven Jonas, Marine

**** Steven's Quarters ****

He wobbled about the small room, hunting for it, but finding nothing. Then his eyes landed on his sniper rifle and a thought hit him. A way to solve all his problems. With shaky hands he drew the weapon from the floor, his fingers running the length of it, feeling the texture under his fingers. "Here is it." he said, holding it lengthwise, looking down the barrel. "It's in here...Where's the button to open the door?" he asked.

Kala chucked at him whilst she took another slurp from her glass. Noticing it was empty she frowned and peered inside it. ~It was full a min ago!~ she queried. Looking back up at Steve she made a motion to her glass and its lack of liquor but paused, there was a light flashing on the rifle. Her head titled to the side examining it, slightly enthralled by it.

In her head the wheels were turning, slowly. There was something wrong with the scene before her, she could tell from the way her hands suddenly chilled: adrenaline surge, she realized.

Her eyes widened, slowly at first, eyebrows rising, brown knitting. His fingers reached down the barrel, outstretched and trembling they grasped for the trigger.

In an instant she was sober. Her eyes darted from Steven to the placement of his hands and back; his expression one of intent.

"NOOOOO!" she screamed moving with haste and precision, all gaming facade promptly dumped - what a way to skip a hangover!

Scrambling forward she snatched the rife from his hands and stood up. Her face was stern, "That is *not* the way to deal with this Steven!" she barked as she checked over the weapon, checking the safety and removing the power cell. Her own hands trembled now as she stared at him.

"But I have nothing left!" he spouted as he tried to take the weapon back from Kala. "Please... let me..."

"NO!" she shouted now. Looking at him with a mixture of venom and grief. She threw the now redundant and inoperable rifle on the floor with disgust. "How dare you?" she questioned her eyes misting and her chin wobbling slightly as she bit back her emotions.

"You think that's the way out?" she half screamed in a wavering voice, "You think that going to solve everything?" Stomping over to him she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him up onto his feet and slapped him round the face as hard as she could.

For a moment she just stood, staring at him shaking as tears welled in her eyes.

Steven lowered his head, his hand reaching for his cheek, trying to take the sting out of it. At least his month's growth of beard had taken a lot of the impact. "I love her. And she hasn't spoken to me in over a month now. I can't live like this. Not now. Not ever." He felt a tear forming and blinked it away.

"So that makes this alright then?" she spat pointing to the rifle.

"She made it perfectly clear how she felt about me. She dropped me from her life like a sack of potatoes."

"Have I?" Kala asked, "Has Branwen, or anyone else?" She was shaking with anger and hurt now, a mixture of the two was never pleasant. "No." she answered for him. "We are here, we all love you and like you and some of us want to be with you." she blinked after saying that, quickly she continued on not wanting to linger on that, "Relationships end Steve. You have to accept that. It happens. To all of us. We have all be hurt, had our hearts broken by that first everlasting love that we thought nothing could ever break. And we have all come through that. You're acting like you are the only person ever to have been dumped." she was angry now and it showed, "Look around you." she gestured towards the walls indicating the hundreds beyond, "Do you really think there is not one person out there that hasn't been through what your going through? Do you really think there is nothing to live for? I am here, and not because I was told to be here, or made to come. I am here be! cause you are my friend and you are in pain and I *understand* that. All of us do and we all want to help you get through it, because all of us at some point or another have been there too." She frowned, her chest hurt and for a second she sniffed back a tear, "For you to stand there and tell me that you have *nothing* to live for, that is throwing my friendship back in my face. Do you know how much that hurts me?" her chin wobbled again and she chewed on her lips to stop herself from crying.

Steven's mouth dropped open in surprise. Stunned at her words, he couldn't form words into a coherent sentence. "I... Um... What... Eh..." He lowered his eye line, to look at the floor. She was right of course. It was like throwing their friendship in her face. He was too absorbed in his feelings for Faylin and the loss he was feeling as a result of what happened, that he had failed to see that he had friends who cared for him, that... loved him. And that hurt him, to think that he was hurting them by his actions. "I'm sorry," he mumbled as tears streamed down his face and onto the already wet carpet.

Silence descended between them. Kala was just too upset and angry to say anything more. She had made her point and at least somewhere in that head of his she had hit a nerve. She was supposed to be cheering him up and here they were, him almost topping himself and her crying, well attempting not to actually, but yeah... not totally successful.

Steven sighed. Faylin hated him. He hated himself. He hated that not everyone hated him. With what he had been about to do, they should have. They should have vilified him for being so pathetic, taking the easy way out. In that moment, he realized he needed to change, he needed to start living his life again. But he could start that in the morning. Right now, he felt like crap. Curling up on his bed, he began to sob.

What a way to end an evening Kala thought sourly. She wished that she could help him, turn off his pain, make him realize that it wasn't going to be this way forever. She knelt down beside the bed and smiled softly at him. She couldn't take away his pain, she couldn't make this gulf of despair and loneliness go away, hell she couldn't even fill that void, not as a friend or anything other. The only thing she could do is hold him, support him and let him know that she cared.

Gently she lay down on the bed beside him and gently pulled him towards her, wrapping an arm around him she ran her fingers through his hair gently to sooth him. There was nothing left to say.

"An Unexpected Twist"

Lt. (jg) Faylin McAlister, JAG

First Lt. Steven Jonas, Marine

**** Ten Forward ****

As her personal custom permitted, Faylin entered Ten Forward and gave a cursory glance around her new surroundings. In an instant, her gaze steeled against a lone man that occupied a small space just short of the corner. The back of his head was all too familiar to her. Many a morning, she awoke to find herself groggily peering at the back of his head as he was turned away from her sleeping. The white hot rumor mill stated that a certain Marine had been wallowing in depressed fashion and had a certain bubbling anger towards her. She knew in a nanosecond who it was, for the "Manizer" only had one Marine in her sites for long enough to permit such a strong anger towards her.

Grabbing a caramel vanilla latte, the fashionable drink among the society of bitchy attorneys, she meandered casually over to his position. Her senses were heightened, just in case the Marine took a fancy to leveling her to the deck plates below. Not only would that ruin her morning, it would ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee; which in both instances would be a sin of epic proportion. "I hear that there is a man in ten forward that has hit rock bottom." She gently spoke. Steven looked up at the newcomer and smiled. Had it not been for the drunken talk with Kala or the realization that taking his own life wasn't a proper answer to his troubles, he would have frowned at her and likely walked away. But he had changed in the last 24 hours. He was feeling more alive than ever before. And whatever nasty things she was going to say or do to him didn't phase him any more. He was over all that crap. "Hey. How are you?"

"Uh, okay I suppose." Her head tilted slightly to the side as she regarded him for a moment before speaking. "Do you......can you go somewhere and talk?"

"I suppose so. Do you have somewhere in mind?"

"My quarters."

"Your quarters... The last time I was there, you bit my head off and spat it out. So I'm not so sure that's such a wise idea."

"Oh, like you were pleasant." She stated then waved her hand. "Yes....my quarters."

Steven shrugged. "Fine, your quarters it is. Lead the way." He rose from the chair and tucked the PADD he had been reading into a pocket.

Confidence appeared to follow Faylin as she lead the way. Resisting the urge to switch her vision to the back of her head for fear of freaking him out, she kept her eyeballs where Terran's were supposed to be....in the front.

****

Steven took a moment before he stepped out of the turbolift, letting her get a couple of steps ahead. He was a little nervous about being in her quarters again. The last time hadn't been fun. He'd been there to deliver the divorce papers. And she had basically implied through her words that she had just been using him. It had stung quite badly at the time. But now as he followed, his eyes strayed down her back, towards her sexy behind. God how he loved that rear. In the short time since he had woken up with Kala still hugging him, he had started to let Faylin go, but seeing her again... God how he missed her.

He shook the thought from his mind. She didn't want any part of him in her life. That much had been made clear.

"K." She breathed as she entered her quarters. They hadn't changed much since the last time he was here, except that she had taken up growing flower bulbs as a hobby to 'relax' as one of her shrinks suggested and she discovered she had quite the green thumb. Tulips, fine stalks of lavender, hyancinths, and other bulbs of high fragerance littered her quarters, setting the place ablaze in color and wonderful scent. Turning to him, she softly smiled. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Are you trying to rub it in that I'm a drunk these days?"

"Um, no." She replied rather timidly.

"Sorry, I'm still a little touchy about how you treated me. Water would be nice." He walked over to one of the pots and gently stroked one of the flowers. He knew practically nothing about horticulture, other than that women loved getting roses.

"Steven......here....." Faylin handed him the glass of water and watched him as he took a sip. "You look tired...."

"I've not been sleeping well. That's all."

"Do you want me to draw you a bath? I could........"

"Um... why would you want to do that? Last time we spoke you couldn't get rid of me fast enough."

"Please Steven.....let me." McAlister knitted her eyebrows at him in pleading. "I have that scent you like so much....the rosewood...."

"Okay..." He was totally confused. While he no longer hated her for treating him like she had, this was something completely different. He didn't recall her ever being this nice to him, even when they had been a couple. He wasn't sure what was more scary. The way she had been towards him or the way she was acting right now.

He followed her as she walked to her bathroom, watching the grace she held herself with as she moved. She hadn't changed much in the month since he had given her the divorce papers. She was still the knockout he had met and fallen in love with in that swimming pool. It was almost too much for him. To see her acting so nice rather than the nasty Faylin he had known only a few weeks before.

"You need a shave." McAlister stated simply.

"A shave? What, don't you like my new look?"

She smiled a slight smirk and shook her head gently back and forth. "It's not you. I'll be right back."

Fay had gone back into her lounge for a moment and he took that moment to peel off his uniform and sink into the warm water of the bathtub. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a bath. He let the foam swirl around as his hands flowed through the water.

Hearing Fay return, he thought he saw a little sadness in her eyes, but it quickly vanished. Had she wanted to see him getting undressed? Or was his mind playing tricks on him again?

"How's the water?"

"It's fine."

"Good....good." Taking the black leather case from her hand, she placed it on the small counter by the sink. The zipper uncurled silently and as she lifted the top, she thought she heard him gasp. Taking a minute to look at the grooming tools, she breathed a chuckle of sadness. "It was my fathers......I have taken possession of his personal effects now that he's......." She cleared her throat. "Anyway." She brought the steel blade up to the light and examined the edge closely. The ancient leather of the strap had held up excellently through the years that it was carefully used. Taking a moment, she gathered the soap into a light foam, then told Steven. "Close your eyes and put your head back slightly."

"Couldn't you have found a cleaner way to kill me. I mean, cutting my throat while I'm in the bath...."

"No, I'm not going to cut your throat. Geesh....I've had more people ask me if I'm going to kill them lately...I just don't get it."

"Well, it is what you do..." he paused and corrected himself, "or did for a living. Of course you never confided anything in me, so it's hard to know just where you're at with all that."

"I can imagine. Now shut up." Her face softened ever so slightly, the order to be quiet more of a jest than anything else. She enjoyed the sound of his voice, even if he was ill at ease around her now. Taking the bristled brush, she smoothed the foam onto his face with expert, almost loving slowness and care. It was relaxing to her in some sense. Her fingers touched his worn face with a softness that she had forgotten she had in the midst of the turmoil that was her life. The touch was much the same as she used with Olivia after cleansing her face after she had a particulary messy meal of pasta and sauce. Her favorite. Sighing, the memories of her daughter suddenly washed over her as she busied herself with ridding Steven of his scruffy beard. She avoided looking at his eyes, even if they were closed.

Just the slightest touch of her fingers against her skin as she lathered his face up sent little shivers running down his spine. It had been over two months now since he had felt her touch, and every moment of it was getting him more and more closer to the brink of reason. Every touch brought him that much closer to wanting to pull her into the bath and make wild passionate love to her. But that wasn't going to happen. Not likely anyway. He lay there, soaking in the warm water as she began shaving his thick beard off. The water mixed with the rosewood scent soothed his ruffled soul and he had forgotten all about the weight he had lost, so it was quite a shock to hear her gasping slightly at the sight of his scrawny face. He opened his eyes, and found himself looking across the tub at her. She had been by his head not a moment before. Or had he dozed off in the warmth of the bath. It didn't really matter though. The look of shock and sadness in her eyes melted the remaining s! trands of hate left in him, leaving him wanting her back in his life more than ever. A want and need that he knew was not likely to ever be fulfilled. Not unless she chose to change. And from their last conversation, it didn't look like that was likely.

"Oh Steven....what have I done to you?" He looked worse clean shaven than with his beard as she stood and backed away slightly from the tub. "I'll....be in my bedroom....if you need anything." Her head nodded downwards as she left him in peace. Walking out and in to her small room, she swallowed the sudden rise of bile she felt in her throat. Faylin could admit that she was a twisted soul, full of hate and anger, yet he had the ability to see past all that. It seemed like forever until he peered into where she was. Sleep was comforting her eyelids, causing them to slowly close until she heard his voice.

"Hey," he said softly, "Are you alright?"

Faylin rolled over and sat up, wiping what was left of the small drops of saline that were forming at the corners of her eyes. Here she was, dreaded assassin, cut throat attorney, and all around supposed bad ass, and she was falling apart inside. They could train her to be mean spirited, harsh, non emotional, yet she had one major flaw. She had a soul. Dark as it was, or appeared to be, there was still a slight be of goodness to it. In the constant inward battle that she experienced day in and night forward she still felt like there was a shred of woman in her. Some corner, shrouded by dripping evil there lay a seed of a perfect flower that longed to grow. It needed moisture. There was the wetness of her tears that flowed. It needed light. The memory of that light was Olivia. And it needed warmth. Only the undying love of a man that would never give up on her no matter her flaws. That man was Jonas.

"No." The whisper cut through the atmosphere, sharper than any weapon that she could wield.

He stood there, still dripping somewhat, a towel wrapped around him, giving him a little modesty. Seeing her like that had really hit it home that she was hurting just as much as he had been. That, deep down, under all the mess of her life, she was still a woman; still felt fear and loss, heartache and pain. Taking a few steps over to her, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder, offering his support. He longed to jump onto the bed next to her and hold her, kiss her, make love to her like they used to do before she faked her death. But his brain told him no. He couldn't. Not again. Not if she was going to hurt him again like she had. She had to make the choice to change. She had to make the first move. As much as it pained him to stay away. He had no idea how she was going to take the hand on her shoulder, but figured it was the right thing to do. If she was feeling anything like what he had when she kicked him out of her life, it was the least he could do.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and watched him. Something inwardly forced her to stand, shaking uncontrolably Faylin took two steps towards him and dropped to his feet. Hugging his calves that were still damp, she felt herself slide down wards to his feet as the flower within her broke free of the tiny seed that sat in the dark corner. "Oh god Steven! I'm sorry! I'm so sor...rryyyyy!" The tears released themselves against sobs of uncontrolable sorrow. "I didn't mean......I.........." Faylin gasped for breath as she stuttered through the pain that she felt and tried to express to him. "Please forgive me." her head lowered as she rested her head on the top of his feet. Her tears added moisture to his already damp feet, as she attempted to wash her sins from her soul. She stammered apology after apology for the pain she had inflicted on him. The cries grew louder until she could no longer hear herself think. Faylin knew that she wanted him back in her life, howev! er he would take her. If that meant graveling at his feet, so be it. It was the most humble position she knew of. The warrior princess, who had damaged so many lives, now sunk to the depths of her being as she asked the ultimate forgiveness from the man that she wished still loved her in any sense.

Steven was taken aback by her sudden flow of emotions as she clung to his legs, bawling her eyes out, muttering apology after apology. Though he was unsure, initially about the validity of her apology, it quickly became apparent that this wasn't some big act to try and clense her soul. That she actually truly was sorry. His heart melted completely in that moment. And he knew that he would never truly ever love another woman. The woman he loved with all his heart and soul was on her knees before him.

Reaching down, he patted her on her back. "Fay... Please stand up."

He was met at first with an unsure gaze as bloodshot, tear stained eyes peered up at him through disheveled chestnut hair. She stood, attempting to make herself presentable...as much as possible.

Looking at her as she tried to wipe away the tears, he couldn't help but smile. "Are you saying that you love me and want me back in your life?"

Sniffing, Faylin stayed silent but nodded affirmatively. Her innocence new, felt strange as large eyes peered at Steven for some sign of affection towards her.

"You know all I ever wanted was for you to be open and honest with me, that you'd be faithful to me. I never meant that I wanted to know every little thing about you. Just that you were willing to trust that I would always be there for you. You know that right?" He gently wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb.

Again, she nodded silently. Her expression was serene as she watched him.

"I love you Fay. I always have and always will. And I can't live without you." He was speaking from his heart. He truly loved her, even after all she had done. Nothing could deny how he felt, not even spending the last month in agony over her not wanting him in her life.

Her expression remained calm as she spoke. "I'll be right back." Turning she left the room for a mere second leaving Steven standing at the end of the bed. A rustling sound was heard, a moment of silence, and then a quick rush of air as Steven found himself hurled backwards landing with a soft thud on her bed with Faylin on top of him. She held up his wedding ring, grabbed his left hand and proceeded to place the ring where it properly went. His mouth opened in protest, yet she assuringly clamped it shut by kissing him with a months worth of pent up passion.

Steven kissed her back, equally as passionately. His heart yearned for the woman straddling him, as his mouth sought hers with vigor. He wanted to speak, but she was kissing him with such abandon that he could barely breathe. With a thrust of his hips upwards, he managed to flip her over, landing on top of her. Grinning at the predicament she was now in, he grabbed her hands and held them at bay as he teased her with his lips, letting her own get agonizingly close before he backed away. Every slight touch of their lips together send little sparks of electricity coursing through his body, heightening the feeling of love for the women below him with every passing second. He looked deeply into her eyes as he teased her, seeing the love he had been craving reflected in those beautiful orbs.

For the briefest of moments he thought that it might have been a dream. That he'd wake up and find it just a dream, not real. And then his brain kicked him and told him to think about it. Even if it was just a dream, this could have been the last chance ever of holding her again. Then he told himself to shut up and kiss her. So he did.

"No fair." Faylin muttered as she instantly changed into Juliette with a slight giggle and widening of her eyes. In a flash, she was back at Faylin and blushed. "Sorry, I change when I get overly excited." She whispered.

"Does this mean we're still married?" he asked as her lips made their way one kiss at a time down his neck to his chest. "You didn't send in the divorce papers that I signed?"

"Nut uh." Faylin muttered as she kissed him. "Your still married, so no funny stuff."

"Well now, Mrs Jonas, I believe we have some catching up to do." he said with a wink as he pulled the towel from his waist.

Author's Note

December 30, 2381 Hilo, Hawai'i, Earth

By far the most common question I have answered since I first began work on this book is a simple one: "Why?" Why did I choose to concentrate my post-doctoral studies on pre-Surak Vulcans? Why did I become so interested in the so-called "Romulan Exodus"? And why did I decide to write a book about it? Well, I am afraid I must answer those questions with a question of my own.

Why, after over two thousand standard years, has no one chronicled the century-long journey of our ancestors to their new home?

There are countless volumes of literature chronicling the history of Vulcan civilization, and they tell us all we could ever want to know about the period of time before the Exodus. This is the period which Vulcans refer to as the Time of Awakening. Most Romulans refer to it as the Time of Sundering.

Before the Time of Awakening, the Vulcans were a very violent and warlike race, bearing almost no resemblance to their modern day descendants. Their actions and behavior have been compared to humans of 21st Century Earth. Depending on one's perspective, they may have even been worse than 21st Century humans. They regularly engaged in clan warfare through the centuries, the technology of war advancing to a point where the continued existence of their race was threatened.

Unwilling to stand by and watch the extinction of his people, a philosopher named Surak began to teach a new set of principles. He believed that the Vulcan people should base their lives solely on logic, and that the expression of emotion was undesirable. The spread of Surak's teaching thus began the Time of Awakening.

However, there existed a minority of the population who rejected Surak's ideas. Led by a man named S'Task and collectively known as "Those who March Beneath the Raptor's Wings", this group became the polar opposite of the followers of Surak. Although small in number, they represented some of the wealthiest and most powerful clans on Vulcan.

Inevitably, war broke out between the two groups, a war which saw the continued use of the deadliest forms of weaponry known in that day. Tens of thousands of Vulcans died in the conflict, Surak among them. The war dragged on for many years, eventually reaching a stalemate. At some point, S'Task's followers realized that there was no longer a place for them in the sands of Vulcan. They would have to seek a new home.

S'Task and his closest advisors devised a plan. Using their significant wealth and influence, the leaders of the largest clans began to build a fleet of twenty colony ships, one for each of their clans. Each ship was designed to hold five thousand to eight thousand Vulcans, one tenth of whom were designated as crewmembers responsible for the ship's functions. It took them nearly fifty standard years to prepare for a journey which might take just as long...or longer.

And so the twenty ships, carrying over 120,000 Vulcan souls, forever left a home that no longer accepted them. Their only hope? To find a home that would.

Millenia have passed since their perilous journey. The split between the followers of Surak and the followers of S'Task was so severe that the event was almost completely purged from the collective memories of both peoples. Only now, with the growing strength of the Reunification Movement, has interest in this period of our history returned.

*****

I dedicate this book to my ancestors.

To my father's people, who fought and died in the sands of Vulcan, determined to protect the way of life they had always known: May you find new understanding in the hearts of your closest allies and your worst enemies.

To my mother's people, who fought and died in the sands of Vulcan, determined to protect the way of life they had so recently chosen: History is a powerful teacher. May you never forget its lessons.

May the light of truth illuminate our past. May it guide us and teach us, may it open our eyes to the possibility of a unified future.

We Vulcans and Romulans are not so different after all.

Excerpted from "The Longest Journey: A History of the Romulan Exodus" by T'Lar Odirne t'Illialhae, University of Hawaii, Earth

"The Planet Reveals Itself"

Lieutenant Commander Tarin Iniara
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin
Chief Astrophysicist

Lieutenant Junior Grade Victor Krieghoff
Security Patrol Officer

Lieutenant Junior Grade Zev Raynor
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

Ensign Artim Shivar
Science Officer

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval
Science Officer

Ensign Keldan
Operations Officer

On the Planet.
=====

It hadn't taken long for Iniara to meet up with Cutter, largely due to the fact that he was much faster in the air than she was on the ground. After exchanging the usual pleasantries they had continued on in silence, Iniara taking a moment to review the tricorder readings as they walked.

In a way, she almost felt bad for making Cutter lead her around like this. The range of emotions that had been coming from the avian as he descended towards her had been almost overpowering, and they had caused her to stop and consider his unique situation for a moment. Iniara took for granted the ability to move about freely on a starship; after all, they were built with bipedal humanoids in mind. But for an avian who clearly enjoyed movement in three dimensions, being restricted to the narrow interior tunnels of even the largest ship or base must have been maddening.

There wasn't much she could do about that now, Iniara reminded herself. After all, in his report Cutter had stated that the wind coming off the mountain had prevented him from flying any closer. Like it or not, they would have to approach by foot.

She just hoped the wind wouldn't make it equally hard on the ground as it had in the air.

=====

In the clearing, something very strange began to happen. Around the data console, the translucent yellowish grass slowly transformed, almost seeming to reach for the console, the thin blades turning a deep, vibrant green as they did so. Tiny white mushrooms popped up from the dark earth, forming a concentric circle around the piece of equipment, almost as if they were attracted to its rhythmically pulsating lights.

Several paces away Keldan continued his scanning, noting that the power drain affecting the portable console had gotten much worse. But he wasn't picking up anything in the planet's atmosphere or soil that could be accounting for any such power loss. Then again, perhaps there was something at fault with this particular console. A low-level diagnostic would be able to determine any abnormalities without having any effect on the various away-team members' readings.

He tapped his communicator. "Keldan to Iniara. That power drain on the console is continuing to increase. I'm going to run a level... er..."

Keldan turned back towards the console, only to stop dead in his tracks. Where before there was nothing but grass and trees, there was now a man standing behind it, silently observing.

A thousand thoughts immediately rushed through Keldan's mind, but first and foremost among them was whether the stranger posed any kind of physical threat. He didn't appear to, but then looks could certainly be deceiving. He wondered briefly if the next words out of his mouth were going to constitute the opening parlance of a first contact situation, and thinking that Iniara really should be here to handle it instead of him. Out of his peripheral vision he could see the rest of the away team had moved off from the beam-down site. Crap. Oh, well. Start with the basics. He slid his tricorder back into its holster and offered both palms up toward the stranger, showing him he was not a threat.

"My name is Ensign Keldan of the USS Galaxy, a starship of the United Federation of Planets. Our intentions here are peaceful. Who are you and are you in need of any assistance?"

Alerted by a beep from his tricorder, Victor glanced down, saw that there was now an additional image on it, and started for the newly-appeared reading's point of origin.

"Iniara here! Repeat your last transmission, Keldan," came a shouted reply over a loud burst of wind. It almost sounded like she was in the middle of a tornado.

The man's expression changed, his lips forming an 'o' as he tried to pinpoint the source of the female voice. Was it coming from that shiny object on the other man's chest?

Keldan smirked, having forgotten he had just contacted her. "You might want to double back, Lieutenant Commander. It seems we have a guest."

Artim had been randomly digging up soil and other organic samples when he heard Keldan speaking nearby. When he heard something about a guest, he shouldered his sample kit and unshouldered his phaser carbine and made has way over towards where Keldan was as he tapped his own combadge and said,

"I'm in the neighborhood, be there in a minute."

A shuffling of leaves and a snapped twig announced the arrival of another, tricorder beeping.

Startled by the noise, the newcomer looked around, searching the forest for the source of the sound. Raynor stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate.

Ensign Skylark, eyes on her tricorder, nearly walked into a tree, but swiftly moved around it as she came within view of Keldan. "Strange spike in..." she trailed off, talking quietly. Her tricorder was pointed at the console, but she was still unaware of the stranger or Keldan.

Raynor had spotted the new comer before anyone... but did not make any movement to give away his position, instead electing to remain hidden and at a distance, outside of causal tricorder range. He knew they were being followed but he had suspected it to be more than one, to silence the wild life here. Perhaps their combined presence but Raynor doubted it. On very few worlds would all animals flee from animals they did not recognize.

He kept an eye out for others but saw no one, and strained his ears to hear what happened next...

"Raynor!"

Raynor jumped slightly, but then immediately calmed himself. He turned to who had called out to him and simply raised his hand in response, then using the same hand told her to keep voice down.

Skylark walked up to him, raised the tricorder, and stopped with it pointed at his chest. Looking up from it, she let out an exasperated sigh. "Our first real lead and you wig out." She'd noticed him intently watching the wilderness around them. "Are you alright? Did you detect anything?"

Raynor simply pointed to newcomer in the distance... then finally whispered... "And the fact that were in relatively dense vegetation with no animals at all. This clown has been following us, since we got here, probably scaring off all the animals too. Assuming there are any... I want to see what this guy wants before I give away my position hence the request for silence."

"And how might you propose to do that Zev?" Artim said somewhat sarcastically.

"Well you shutting up might be a start... but since this position has obviously been compromised... looks like I'm going to have to move quietly," Raynor snapped at Artim with only a whisper. He was annoyed at himself for obviously miscalculating. The team was scattered everywhere and that scans would be coming in from every direction so it wasn't good enough for him to be outside of tricorder range from where the Alien had been standing. Also he was annoyed at the both of them for not seeing what anyone should have. That he was hiding and waiting for more information about the alien to become clear.

"Until a newcomer's intentions have been at the very least stated it is BASIC strategy to have an ace in the hole or up your sleeve... many if you can get away with it... but apparently this idea escaped you tiny head," Raynor was only loud enough for the both of them hear him, but he was sarcastic enough to destroy a mountain with his words.

His eyes watched for a response... he was being harsh, but they were potentially dealing with an enemy who could pull off the Genesis effect on a planet. It wasn't time to be playing around.

"Well Protected"

Nara & Eve

*****Eve's Quarters****

It was time to check on Valentina. So Nara stood at her door, waiting for the answer to her pressing the chime button.

The door swished open invitingly. Within the young woman's quarters,one would hardly have guessed that the occupant was the product of a 17th century Russian fused with technology surpassing that of even the Borg. Though there was little actually different than when the chambers were lived in by Ensign Eve, the ambiance alone was warmer, more inviting. Candles were scattered about, placed just so to provide comfortable illumination yet leave the rooms dark enough to be comfortable on the eyes - the lights were off. A selection of silvery segmented armor-like plates in the shape of 2 arms and 2 lower legs sat on a wall mounted rack, and various other small details adorned the previously blank room.

Eve herself was changed considerably. Her former self had worn little beyond the uniform and all black. Valentina had done the same more out of the fact that she didn't know much else besides. Eve now sported clothing much more comfortable, and not so dreary, in the form of blue jeans and a red t-shirt. Somehow the shirt only seems to enhance the exotic qualities of her violet eyes more than normal. "Nara! Come in, it's good to see you," Eve said with a smile.

Nara smiled back and stepped in. "Valentina, how are you?"

"It's back to Eve," Eve replied as she moved over to the replicator. "Want something?"

"Just checking on you." Nara watched her. She seemed normal. But she wanted to be sure. "You seem fine. But, if you let me, I'd like to check deeper."

Eve shook her head as she punched in a selection. "I'm sorry, I can't let you," the cyborg replied as the drink, a fizzy green concoction, appeared. "My systems are classified 'Need To Know' only, so whatever data you have already, that's it as far as my technological side is concerned."

Nara raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Well, as curious as I am, it seems you're well aware of the entities now, so that's ok."

"Entities?" Eve queried. Moving to the couch she motioned for Nara to join her. "If you're referring to my previous personalities, yes. I am aware, I remember everything they knew. Thank you for being there for me."

Nara nodded, the smiled faded. Maybe not. "You are well protected."

"Is something wrong Nara?" She'd noticed the dwindling emotions of the engineer, a concerning trend.

"I just worry about you sometimes. You're one of Starfleet's treasures and a friend. I try and help make sure you're kept safe."

"Even if it meant never knowing what all of the hardware inside of me does?" Eve looked down and sat back against the couch. "Given what I now know, I'm surprised that SFI didn't immediately sequester me in a laboratory somewhere remote for study. Now that there's more to me that can be discovered, there is a much greater possibility that, Federation citizen or not, I might not be in possession of my rights as a sentient if some of the more ambitious Intelligence officers get their way."

"I'll find a way to make sure they don't do that. I'm sure Saul will too."

Eve merely smiled, a small, sad smile. Nara didn't know Intelligence. They got what they wanted; even this new regime wasn't beyond manipulating their own fleet wide counterparts for the sake of advancing the Federation's interests. Saul, despite all of his influences and connections, wasn't powerful enough to keep Eve from them.

Nara smiled back, "Do you need anything? Is everything working alright in here?"

Eve shook her head. "Every thing's fine, even the door. Brand new, straight out of the industrial replicator. When the Borg first came out of the wormhole, I was bombarded by their Song, their intercommunication's network that every planet, vessel, station, and drone broadcasts. That was the last straw, so to speak. They wouldn't stop, and Valentina was understandably scared. Every question was either avoided or given hollow answers to placate her. I understand why it was done, but as she is me, it still hurts to remember. In any case, at one point I threw what equated to a tantrum, and at that time a PADD was thrown. Went straight through the door and embedded itself in the wall of the corridor on the other side. So, new door."

Nara's expression went to sympathy to a smirk. "Well done!"

"The new door is nice, I'll admit. The old one had a screech to it in the ultra high frequencies that just grates on the nerves. This one lacks that quality, thankfully. However," she sighed, "I'm not proud of it. I don't like to lose control of myself, and there I wasn't in control at all."

"You're advanced in ways no one else is. Far older than any other human, but you still have some growing to do. Controlling yourself will become easier."

Eve looked at Nara thoughtfully for a moment and then shook her head. "I disagree. First, my cybernetics are more advanced, and I don't know half of what there is to know about them. Second, chronologically I may be older, but I've still only lived maybe 20 years actually conscious and aware. Controlling myself in the face of the Borg now is dependant upon a single decision - switch modes, or stay 'sane.' "

"Switch modes?" This intrigued Nara.

Eve nodded. "Normally, I am as you see me. However, when an element of the Collective is present, their Song is the key for the interlocks preventing me from activating the routines involved with the destruction of the Borg. When no Borg are present, I am normal. When Borg are present, I have the option of altering to 'Borg killer,' for lack of a better descriptor; it is no longer an imperative written into my wetware."

Nara smiled. A Borg killer. "Beautiful."

So now they had a Borg Killer, Death who often told people they weren't allowed to die, and a super AI program.

The USS Galaxy was well protected.

"Missing Things"

Starring

Commander James Corgan
Crewman Allsion

Soundtrack: "Never There" By Cake

USS GALAXY SECURITY OFFICES

In a flash of blond hair and pink glitter, Allison stormed into the Galaxy Security Offices on a mission of terror.

The normally cheerful sprite had been turned into a snarling vision of anger once she had found out who it was that had signed the order to keep her away from her most valued possession.

It was HIM.....the scruffy faced Department chief and his blue haired hussy! Well she was just gonna have words with him and set him straight!

Bursting through the door to James inner office, Allison stood before him in all her righteous anger daring any to oppose her.

Point in fact but she actually was not too scary looking.....maybe a few blond hairs were out of place, and maybe the redness in her cheeks were more due to anger rather than glitter, but James did get the general idea that all was not well with his departments most unusual member.

It was at a time when James was feeling at peace with the world. The past day or two that it did last was wonderful beyond mention, almost enough for him to forget that to counterbalance any joy that entered his life, James Corgan had to feel an equal if not greater amount of adversity.

~"It was good while it lasted."~ James resigned himself to that now long lost era.

"Crewman Jimsdottir," he sighed eyeing the bootmark she left on his door, "Please come in. I hope all is well now that your incarceration is over."

"Dont sweettalk me bucko!" Alli seethed ignoring the misuse of her name, "For you have just like totally incurred my wrath."

Unflappably, James placed his cup of coffee, the leering 'Rolling Stones' tongue sticking out to mock the teenager, on his desk. He folded his fingers together, taking on a deadpan, serious look to wither away her anger with a healthy dose of fear.

When it wasn't working, James stood aghast. "Hmmm, you really are bothered by something. What's wrong?"

"My planner!!" She spat, "My pink electronic planner.....you like totally sent it to Engineering."

"That's it?" James thought, taken aside, aback and afront, recovering into instant recognition. "Oh yeah... I like totally sent it to Engineering!"

He went back to his paperwork, a PADD in his hand, he started to work on his daily report. Getting a minute and three sentences out of the report, he noticed that Allison was still there, fuming and waiting for her organizer. Seeing how long she would go on, James tried to work harder on the report, interrupted when the indignant Allison harrumphed back his attention.

"So what do you want me to do about it?" James asked.

"So....so I want it back! I dont want some snot nosed grease monkey getting their grubby hands all over it. I've got like important stuff in there."

James dropped the PADD with a clatter. "No way! Like... what secrets?"

"Stuff....you know.....girl stuff."

"Oh really?!" James sarcastically guffawed, a look of wide eyed fake stupidity that could have belittled a Vulcan, "Like what? Makeup? Fashion? The latest pop stars you kids love so much? Oh... boys?"

"Well none of your bees-wax whats inside Mr Nosey so neeners to you." She stuck out her tongue and pouted.

"Oh! Oh fine then!" James countered immaturity with immaturity, throwing his arms up and huffing, "None of my business, because after all, illegal military grade encryption in what's suppose to be little Alli's fluffy pink diary just doesn't ring alarm bells in most security officers. Oh no, not in the slightest. You're right, so right, so I'll give you back your organizer and forget something that could run a starship and power weapons of mass destruction had ever existed and was most certainly not in the care and posession of a vacuum headed teenage blonde, because after all, I'm just an old dinosaur that doesn't realize restricted technology is all the rage with the young girls these day! But hey, nothing says officer of the year material quite like blllliiiiinnnnnndddd ignorance, so maybe I'll give it back... perhaps in the time when I start pissing out diamonds for gall stones."

Allison sighed and slumped into one of the chairs sitting in front of James desk. Staying angry was a lot of work and it sure was bad for the complexion. Sneaking a quick look at her compact she was sure she was going to get all splotchy from this.

"Fine fine whatever...." she sighed, "Your right and Im wrong.....You're the big laserbrained hero and I'm just the dumb kid."

James clucked, "Don't be hard on yourself. Just give us some time to figure out what the hell that is, and if it doesn't have the potential to fuck us in the ass in the forseeable future, then you can have your little diary back. And I promise, I won't read a word of it. Ok?"

Allison thought about that for a minute, before replying, "I told you I'm rich right?"

"So am I." James countered, "I have stocks in my sister's entertainment consortium. If the Federation Credit wasn't play money, it would be worth something. What of it?"

"Yeah yeah I know .....Federation citizens don't use money......well that works fine until you want to really buy somthing nice, or live somewhere other than a prefabricated cubicle. Besides mines not play money....its real okay. Lets just leave it at me being totally loaded okay?"

"Oh Jesus Christ..." James rolled his eyes back, seeing where that inevitable path was going.

"The point is.......what if I told you that my little planner had some real sensitive stuff on it related to money and all that? I dont have plans for building a bomb or anything....Hel-lo I work in Armory, I can find all the parts I need on the shelves there if I wanted to. There is just some stuff on there that you.....or actually anybody can't be allowed to see.....understand?"

"Oh?" James raised his head up. The thought didn't occur to him that she had her portfolio in her organizer. "And for a second I thought she was going to try and bribe me. So that is why you need all that muscle in your organizer? To take care of your investments?" "Totally." Alli bobbed here head. "Good enough reason right?"

"Even though its quantum dating signature goes in reverse?"

Alli kept bobbing her head for a long moment until........."Quantum...huh?"

"Oh that important bit of information..." James hummed, "Well, it seems that according to our sensor scans, that organizer's quantum signature is going the opposite direction. It hasn't aged. Quite the opposite. It's going towards point zero on its age line. That shouldn't be possible."

Another long pause........"Double huh? Whats the point?"

"Well, it leaves two possibilities. One it's from the future, and two it has a quantum processor that literally bends space time around it. Both are dangerous. That's why we have to look into it. Understand?"

She didnt. All she understood was James ws being a big 'meanie' again.

Frustrated beyond belief, Alli buried her head in her hands and contemplated the unfairness of her life. "I can't believe this is happening." she said, more to herself than to James. "I can't believe after everything that I end up arguing with you like everytime I see you now."

"Well what do you expect?" James fired back, his voice turned to a low growl, "Your organizer is suspicious. Your interests in me is suspicious. You are suspicious and the worse thing of it is I don't know why you keep doing it. So if you don't mind, drop what you're trying to do now. I'm sick of it."

She looked up at him , blue eyes glistening, "Thats not how it should be.....thats not how I meant for things to be between us......it just.....just...."

"Just what?" James said with a piqued effort of concern. Seeing that Allison was crumbling before him like Gelbian sandcastle, he couldn't help but feel guilty. ~"Way to go you big ogre."~ Said his conscience, ~"You're making the little girl cry. You're a big man."~

"Its just that you make a bunch of goofy-headed decisions." she said with a half serious smile, "Why cant you like totally act the way I expect you to all the time."

"Since you don't know me, how did you expect me to act?"

"Well for starters don't send my 'evil diary from the future 'down to Engineering...hel-lo! Private girl stuff and all."

"Well..." James sputtered, "...No! Diaries are small and cute and are locked with a cheap locket and a tin key. They don't take supercomputers to crack open! What do you expect?"

"And also you could like dump that blue skinned antenna chick." Alli held up her hands against James protest, "I know I know....none of my business.....I just want whats best for the both of us here."

"What's best for you, I suppose." James aptly stated.

Allison turned all serious and gazed longingly at James. "No.....I want whats best for us. Us. You, me and....and well just you and me." She sighed and sunk deeper into her funk.

"I know it sounds all screwy to you, and I'd like totally explain it if I could.......Its just the thought of you and another woman seems so.......well its kinda gross if you think about it."

Rather than go further, James stepped back, and thought. After all Allison was dumping on him, he had to stand back. His previous policy to confront and attack was not working, and it was only serving to hurt her feelings further.

"Mika would use a more diplomatic approach." He admitted to Allison. "That's what I love about her. I am a reactionary. I go in, see a problem, and tear it out. She however can take a step back, look at it, see a problem and read it better than anyone. She compliments me that way. That is why I love her, I suppose."

He looked down at his apprentice with a twinge of guilt, "I wish you wouldn't think so badly about her. She really is a good person if you take the time to find out about her. You wouldn't be so quick to judge her as being bad, because I know what bad is. Bad falling in love with my superior officer, then my XO before she decided to leave. Bad was falling in love with a Romulan spy. No, Mika isn't bad. She's the best thing that happened to me."

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Allison, I find it hard to understand why you are devoted to me so much, but it worries me. It's unhealthy. It is even colouring your perspectives on my friends and my love, and you know them less than you know me. Worse you have some odd ideas about me and you don't even know me that well. I'm worried your ideas about me and everything around me are getting inaccurate. Do you understand?"

"I understand more things than you know." she sighed, "And at the same time I am finding that everything that I wanted and expected is coming up all screwy. My time on the Galaxy was supposed to be one zarky adventure y'know? Now its all like....I dont know...Its all sad boring grown up stuff."

"Take a step back, kid." James took his hand away from her shoulder, "Think for a bit. You said so yourself, I wasn't what you expected. Well, heroes aren't. They get real. They have their flaws and foibles, and not the ones you would find noble or tragic or relatable. They take you by surprise, kill your picture of that person. But it's reality. It's not always what we make of it. Sometimes we get the wrong idea. Do you see what i'm trying to say to you?" He sighed, having difficulty trying to express in words something more complicated than his usual personal life fare, "If you have the wrong idea about me, maybe..."

He stammered, retreating back to his desk, "I don't know. I wish I could explain it better, but it's hard. I like you, kid. I do. I think you and I make a great team. But what you hint at... it scares me. I don't know what to make of you."

"And I dont know what to make of you." she replied. "Heck.....if I didnt know better I wouldnt make anything out of you, but......." Alli looked longingly at James, "I....I just cant let you go.....I cant let you out of my life....not now. I....I....I'm sorry if I don't want to share you with anyone else, but I picked up a stubborn streak from my parents and thats that."

James took a step back again, not out of caring, but out of an overwhelming sense of wrongness.

He wasn't ready to face up to the possibility that Allison, for all her devotion to James and her obsession with his personal life, was in fact in the duress of a heartbreaking crush on the security chief. Because he was not prepared to face that possibility in his own mind, being forced to confront it sent his stomach on a terminal velocity dive down to his intestines.

~"Dammit. Not again."~ He recalled his brush with Rose MacAllen, and dreaded a repeat. ~"Dammit kid, why now? I was happy making you my apprentice and now you have to be lovestruck? Shit! Ok, calm down James. It's just a teenage crush. Nothing you can't handle. You've snapped Breen necks and vaporized Jem'Hadar for a living. She is just a scrawny... well... maybe not scrawny. Certainly more fleshed out than Mika but not nearly like T'lan, and she does look pretty good... STOP THAT!"~

~"Well, how do I stop this? I mean, she's cute and all, but it so wrong! Not just the regulations, which will ensure that I will be castrated before the both of us are dishonorably discharged. It's like a metaphysical level, like she is one of my kin! I just... can't feel that way for her no matter how much I like her. But what about her? What do I do about her? Oh god... not the gazing longingly at me stare... oh god dammit! Why do I have to be such a sucker!?"~

"Get a life?" Corgan suggested jokingly, doing an about face while his foot was in his mouth, "I mean... outside this department, outside me. If you're bored, there's plenty to do. In your loyalty to me, you have excluded an awful lot."

Alli opened her mouth to snap back. Being told to 'get a life' was not something a popular young teenager liked to hear. However she shut it without responding, vowing to try and make things work between James and herself. Instead she responded quietly and calmly. "I have my music....I have my friends......I have more money than Q." She stood silently and walked to the exit, pausing in the doorway. Turning back her blue eyes glistened sadly. "What I don't have is you......"

"Reach and Grasp"

"Oh, but man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what is heaven for." - Robert Browning

Savant Lieutenant
Fleet Logistics Officer

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Rihannsu Ambassador

= tr'Ahalaen's Quarters =
= USS Galaxy =

Aerv tr'Ahalaen stood besides the gorgeous teak bookshelf that had been installed into a bulkhead in his quarters before he had come aboard the Galaxy for the first time. It was a splendid thing, a gift from President Bacco herself, when she had received him as an ambassador to the Federation. She had asked if there was anything he thought he would need, and this what tr'Ahalaen had asked for....

His quarters on this ship, much like his home on ch'Rihan, had some truly remarkable pieces of Art...though he had still not replaced the original "Nausicaa from Homer's Ulysses" he had given to Jonas - Elements forgive him....

Even so, though only a modest part of a collection of his actual paper books from across the known universe, this bookshelf was the most remarkable object in his quarters. Often (though no one knew this, of course), tr'Ahalaen would stand before these books, the product of great minds, and practice the speeches he was so famous for before them.... It was a practice that kept one humble....

Now, however, he had come here for a different reason. Before his meeting with a certain 'Artificial Intelligence' that he had heard of since recently returning to the Galaxy, there was a specific passage he sought in his copy of Hamlet, bound in sheepskin. When it found it, he smiled and traced his hand over the familiar words. "What a piece of work is man...."

His musing was interrupted by a communications chime, not the door chime he was expecting. The subtle sound derailed his thoughts and he spoke with some amount of irritation at the interruption. "Yes?"

The response was not what he suspected - though perhaps some part of his mind actually did anticipate the program. The greeting was somewhat less than typical, however. Its' voice was a soft sound that lovingly caressed the quote. "How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! In form and moving, how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension, how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so."

"Ah," tr'Ahalaen said, closing Hamlet and gently putting it back in its place, "Of course, the...how do the humans say, it...Artificial Intelligence, yes? Jolan Tru."

The holoemitter on his desk warmed activated of its own accord, creating an illusory Savant suspended several spans above the floor. It was translucent and clearly not present, but the image was convincing enough to provide the Ambassador with a more meaningful avatar. The image of the human woman smiled. "Jolan tru, Ambassador. I'm flattered that you wanted to meet with me. And I prefer my Latin species designation, 'aiont sapiens biogenesis'."

Aerv had never been one much for science, despite the interests of his fiancée, but he had to admit that this...creature was quite impressive. Given that it had chosen the image of an attractive young woman for itself, it was either manipulative or blessed with a decent sense of aesthetics. Perhaps - and more dangerously - both.

"I have always been fond of your Shakespeare, you know...especially that passage. Such wonderful compliments...and he did not even know me. I will admit, he got a little impertinent at the end there, but the Rihannsu tend to forgive the impertinence of artists a little." tr'Ahalaen paused, as if thinking, then added, "Not so much with machines - ah...sapiens biogenesis, pardon me. Were you just listening, Lieutenant, or also watching before you announced yourself?"

Savant assumed a thoughtful pose, with a hand to her chin and lips while she assumed a seated position. Never mind that the seat she took up didn't actually exist. After a pause, she replied with all of the eloquence she could muster. "Please excuse any prying, Ambassador. When my thoughts move in a direction, so to do my perceptions. And I was thinking of you and our meeting, so naturally took up a place in the processors connected to this room. I couldn't help but note your selection."

"Which is quite a fine selection, might I add." she commented, dropping the ponderous facade for one more amiable. "It's a fine human work, though someone what humanocentric. But I suppose that's a characteristic most sentients have."

"Yes. I have, in some fashion or another, spent a great deal of my life around maps...so I have noticed." tr'Ahalaen hesitated - it was Rihannsu custom to share a drink with one's guest, but he was not quite sure if the thing was capable of such functions. Then again, he probably cared more about tradition than it did - it was not like it would be offended. Would it? And did he care?

Aerv sighed, irritated. If the price of progress was that the simple, kind gestures of a people should become complicated...well, he was not quite sure it was worth it. Elements, how he wished he had asked Elissa to be here...but she was away on that cursed away team. Besides...then he could not have worn the masks a conversation like this required of him. He did not like being anything but himself around her....

Deciding to err on the side of caution, he offered, "Will you take something to drink, Lieutenant?"

There was not a thing in Savants' existence which was simple when one looked at face value. Hers (its?) was a world full of complexities. However, at the very root of it she was really quite simple - just as any other lifeform was, it could be argued. She paused and raised her hand slightly, wiggling the fingers as if wondering whether they could actually hold a glass in the state her avatar was in. This avatar at least. Savant seemed reassured by the action, as she smiled and replied, "Yes, yes I think I will, Ambassador; thank you."

Her mind moved in its endless interlocking circles; the conversation laid out before her like a branching tree that was pruned with every word he spoke and motion he made. She guided its path like a gardener.

tr'Ahalaen moved to pour out two glasses of tranya - as he did so, he continued speaking, "I have had very little chance to read about you, Lieutenant, so you will forgive my ignorance. When I was told of your presence here...even your existence, I was quite surprised. I had not thought that your creator - Admiral Davies-Geppetto, yes? I had not thought she was in the business of creating weapons of your kind...."

"Davies-Jeppo; I'm not related to Pinocchio except by allegory. And she's just a professor now." She smiled benignly while she stored the conversation. So he did his research and found out about her mother? Interesting. She continued as he handed her the glass - she convinced the local security network to give her some control over the pressor beams inherent in the fire suppression systems - that was enough to lift the glass and give it the appearance that she held it.

"I was a graduation project for her originally, then turned into something of a secretary. Technically, I still am. Why would you think of me as a weapon?" She knew exactly why, but wanted to see his reaction to the question.

"Why indeed," tr'Ahalaen responded with a small chuckle, "I also from your record that you were once working for Starfleet Intelligence." Taking a seat across from her, he sipped his drink - he was to drink first so that his guest was assured that the drink was not poisoned. Another gesture wasted on this machine, a creature which carried none of the Elements within it. "Have you done much work as a professional spy?"

She grinned wider and took a drink as well - somewhere else, a replicators feed stock surplus increased incrementally, once the particles had been properly analyzed and parsed. Savant honestly did enjoy a drink, and could appreciate its qualities. The reasons for her appreciation were far different than a humanoid would claim, though.

She replied. "I as designed to collate data. I'm very good at it. I was a field analyst program. But I was barely sentient at that point, you see." The hologram seemed to grow more nostalgic as it spoke. "So, have I worked as a spy? Heavens yes. It was instrumental in my development. But it's not what I was designed for, and I don't consider myself one."

"Yes...well - here is my problem, Lieutenant - I, and my government, are not satisfied by what you consider yourself. As you demonstrated so wonderfully in the manner in which you announced yourself, you can listen to and watch anything I do. You are...ah, what was that title? Ah yes - you are 1984, Lieutenant. Now, were I an ordinary citizen, your...omnipresence, if you will, would concern me on a personal level. However, I am not an ordinary citizen...and upon my ability to keep secrets, empires rise and fall. You understand?"

She nodded amiably - she was apparently trying to play the part of the acquiescing subordinate. It was a part she was suited to, being a piece of software. Arguably, it was her natural state. "I understand, of course, Ambassador. And I have to reassure you - my ability to remember isn't the same as yours. My memories will reside here, locally, and will be forgotten unless I should choose to preserve them. Even then, I'd need the space, which is a precious thing."

She gave him an apologetic sort of an expression. "I've nothing but good will and good intentions for you and your people, Ambassador. I think we're quite alike in philosophy at times. Rest assured, your secrets are yours and will remain so."

tr'Ahalaen leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face wearily. A machine was trying to play mind games with him. Elements, what times had come.... "Yes, that is all very nice," he replied, his smile caustic, "But you see...that leaves me with no more assurances than I previously had. Even if I were to trust you, Lieutenant, and your...good intentions, there are many on this ship and, indeed, in the Federation, who I cannot trust. I do not know how you would respond to a direct order to spy on the affairs of the Empire...I do not know if you will ever be, or indeed have been, reprogrammed to do so and hide it from me."

Aerv sighed and rose to his feet. Slowly, deliberately, he began to pace the length of his quarters, "In some ways, Lieutenant, you are like the Borg - they are half human, half machine in their flesh. You are half human, half machine in your consciousness. So you will forgive me if I do not trust you entirely...that is a thing that comes with great reluctance to my people at the best of times...and these are not such times. The truth is that I asked you here, Lieutenant, to ask for your help. I need you to answer a question for me."

He turned to look at her. "So tell me...can god build a rock so big that even he cannot lift it?"

"I'm not at all human, Ambassador." She smiled a little, still trying to reassure him. He was fairly immune to those unconscious sorts of manipulations, however, so she chose words instead- more his speed. "I can't create a code that I can't break, but you needn't worry - if the ship can't see it, neither can I. Those things which you choose to seal with your own ambassadorial protocols are as beyond my reach as any other on board."

Not *quite* a lie. She found the ships protocols difficult to circumvent, but she was a fish swimming amongst scuba-divers when it came to programming. Her agility was beyond what any humanoid could muster, as it was her native environment. However, she could easily be detected doing so, and beyond this, her own ethics prevented her from spying on things she wasn't supposed to watch.

He made a point though. Were she ordered to do so? She would investigate, without question. Let her see whether her assurances were enough yet, though.

"I really have no interest in pitting the wiles of Rihannsu technology against you, Lieutenant - or even ordinary Federation technology in general. I have no illusions about my seal. If Starfleet Intelligence so chooses, they could - in time - break through it. Of course, it is supposedly designed to destroy any data that is accessed in that manner but...well, as you clearly see, I am not quick to trust technology. Besides...right now I am more concerned about my conversations, drafts of documents as I am working on them...things that cannot be encrypted."

"I think, perhaps, the time has come for you to become a little more human, Lieutenant - perhaps the time has come for your reach to exceed your grasp." tr'Ahalaen sat back down, leaning forward in his chair now, "I want you to help design a security program that even you cannot circumvent, Lieutenant - or at the very least, one that goes off whenever anyone, even you, attempts to break through it. I do not look to bar your access to my quarters or limit your ability to listen in...I am not sure I would agree to such a restriction on my person. However, when you are here...when your, how did you put it? When your perceptions move with your thoughts...I want the ship's systems to alert me. I want to know you are here...and since you profess not be a spy, I do not see why you would object to this.... Is this possible?"

"The best I can do, Ambassador," she replied, somewhat apologetic again, "is to design an alarm system and then remove all memories of its construction from my memory. That much is easy - I've done it any number of times. But I'll eventually be able to break it again, if I'm so compelled."

She smiled. She had no desire to become human whatsoever, and to limit oneself willingly was an evolutionary mistake. Still, she normally entertained people who suggested she become "more human." More species-centrism - biotics were notorious for it. "I can do this immediately, and then give you the code - you can add in your own warning system into the program, so that it will alert you of any tampering independently. Consider it a two-tiered alarm system. Will that satisfy you?"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen laughed. "No - of course not. The problem with having to be a suspicious person, Lieutenant, is that eventually - at some small level - one has to begin to trust others. When I agree to your proposition, I have to trust that you actually will erase memory of it from your system, that you will not leave back doors in the program that others can exploit.... That much trust was involved even in my proposition. It is," he replied with a shake of his head, "I fear, the nature of the universe and I cannot escape it. Does it satisfy me - no, of course not. However, until I can come up with a better solution, it will have to do."

"I'm flattered again, Ambassador. Most people don't consider me a person at all upon the first meeting. I'm honored. I promise you I'll leave you in peace, and leave in my place a security system which would take weeks to crack." She was polite where she thought politeness would be best suited, and magnamonious where he would not feel it offensive.

"I realize I'm not really within your paradigm - I'm of no Element at all." the way she spoke it made it sound capitalized, even, "I hope that some day you can find it in your philosophy to include me, somewhere."

"Well...there is the Archelement and it allows for many things," Aerv replied, setting aside his official mask for a moment, "For me, it has always been Beauty - of a certain type," he gestured towards his bookshelf, "Hence this modest little shrine.... I cannot truthfully say that I consider you a beautiful thing - however, I am attached to a woman, better than myself, who would be absolutely fascinated by you. Give her time, and I might grow. Until then...I thank you for your help, Lieutenant. Jolan Tru."

She inclined her head to him, setting her half-drank glass down on the desk and rising up from her perch into the air. "Jolan Tru, Ambassador. I hope we talk again." And with that the binding fields of the hologram dissolved, leaving a brief puff of light and the scent of ozone lingering heavy in the air.

= End Log =

"The Wind Gets Mean"

Lieutenant Commander Tarin Iniara
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin
Chief Astrophysicist

Lieutenant Junior Grade Victor Krieghoff
Security Patrol Officer

Lieutenant Junior Grade Zev Raynor
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

Ensign Artim Shivar
Science Officer

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval
Science Officer

Ensign Keldan
Operations Officer

On the Planet.

=====

Elsewhere...

The wind was beginning to pick up now, the slight rustling of the leaves having turned into a steady, yet still gentle breeze. "Obviously we are getting closer," Iniara commented, checking her tricorder once more.

"Obviously. We've been walking for an hour, I should hope we're getting closer," Cutter said flatly.

"How far away did you say this formation was?"

"From the landing site, according to radar telemetry, approximately five-point-two kilometers," he said, forcing a needle-leafed branch from his path. There was no path, no trail they were following. Instead, they had been winding around, looking for the easiest path to the mountain. The further they went, the more difficult their journey became. At the landing site, the grass was soft and the trees thin and broad-leafed. As they walked, the forest became more and more populated by spiny leafed trees, and trees with thin, piercing awl shaped leaves. Brushing by them became painful, and the foliage was only getting thicker.

Iniara ducked under a low branch, pushing away some moss that, to her dismay, had been hiding some curiously sharp thorns. She winced and withdrew her hand, inspecting the tiny pinpricks along the backside of her hand. "This had better not be one of those away missions with the innocent foliage that gets us all killed," she muttered under her breath, plucking out a stray thorn and casting it away. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Above them, the forest formed a canopy that filtered out much of the sunlight, leaving only the occasional bright spot on the uneven ground below them. The branches seemed to be getting lower and lower now. At the rate the forest was changing, it seemed like the route might soon be impassable. They had been making decent time so far, but she didn't know how long they could keep up this pace. Cutter especially, since his large wings were no doubt taking more than their fair share of the assault from the unfriendly foliage.

Iniara stopped and looked around. They were now on a low incline, the ground slowly but steadily sloping upwards before them. She turned to say something to Cutter when a flash of light caught her eye. "What the--" Squinting, she tried to make out what she had just seen. It looked like something was glinting in the sunlight. "Look, over there," she called out, pointing off to their right.

Cutter stopped a few meters ahead and looked back at the commander when she called, then followed her finger with his eyes. At least from his vantage point, all he could see was foliage. "What?" he asked, looking back, but she had already dashed off. He sighed and doubled back to follow her.

Iniara quickly picked her way through the dense underbrush, pulling out her tricorder and scanning along the way. After a moment she found what she was looking for. It was a jagged outcropping of rock, no more than a meter in height, completely out of place in the lush forest. "That's odd."

Cutter eyed her, but said nothing. He did not think it was odd. They were approaching a mountain with some exposed rock face, after all. It was entirely possible, and likely, that at least some of that rock would have fallen off due to natural erosion processes and tumbled down the mountain. But, she was looking at her tricorder, perhaps there was something more interesting there. He held out his six fingered hand and gestured for the tricorder. Iniara looked up at him briefly, then handed it over. She was running a thermal spectroscopy scan. Pointed at the rock, it was detecting a large amount of iron, and a carbon content that was close to what was in steel, but very little sulphur, silicon, phosphorus and other natural impurities, as well as some amounts of copper, platinum and other conductors, but these were seperated from the iron deposits. He was also getting directional dependent responses, indicating optical crystal refraction in the infrared spectrum.

"These are like the curious results I got from the gamma ray scan of the mountain from the air," Cutter said.

"This might be the start of the ridge," she mused, taking a few steps back and squatting down, looking off towards the way they were heading. From this perspective she could almost see the ridge beginning to take shape under the forest cover. She looked back at the rock and scooted forward, pulling away some of the tangled underbrush. The thing seemed to be completely covered in moss and vines, but if she looked hard enough, she could see a pyramid-like shape. The rock had a central column and three, well, she would describe them as three legs, branching off from the central spike and sloping down to the ground.

"It looks like a tripod," Cutter said, "possibly for a core sampling drill."

The last few words out of Cutter's mouth were drowned out by a sudden gust of wind, nearly overpowering in its strength. Iniara threw up one hand to keep the swirling dust out of her eyes and grabbed on to the rock with her other hand, struggling to keep from falling backwards onto her rear end.

"What the hell is going on!" she shouted.

Cutter grabbed her arm and opened a wing up into the air, to act as a stabilizing sail. He pulled her close to him so she would be able to hear him over the roaring gusts. "This is the wind pattern I told you about. This geographical formation shouldn't focus the winds to this degree, and they shouldn't be this strong below the canopy."

Iniara's communicator abruptly beeped. ["Keldan to Iniara. That power drain on the console is continuing to increase. I'm going to run a level... er..."] She strained to hear his voice over the howling wind. Had he stopped speaking, or was the wind just too loud?

"Iniara here!" she shouted back, hoping that he could hear her through the noise. "Repeat your last transmission, Keldan."

["You might want......back, Lieut.....mander. It....have a guest."]

Could she have heard that right? She looked back towards Cutter, who was also struggling against the wind. "We need to get out of here!"

"Sister of Mine"

Ensign Savannah McAlister
Security

Guesting Lt. JG Faylin McAlister - USS Galaxy
JAG

Gently, yet with an ominous roll of her eyes, Savvy opened a com link to her half sister on board the USS Galaxy. She was unaware of the recent events in her sister's wild life, just knowing that she was a happily married woman.

Spinning in her seat in her office as Fay heard the com link beep, she took a quick sip of her coffee, scowled at it's luke warmness and opened the link. Upon seeing her sister, her face softened and her mind ran rampant with cutting remarks that they were known for exchanging. Yet viewing her drawn, overly tired face, Faylin straightened her posture somewhat and permitted a look of concern cross her features.

"Savvy....are you in trouble?" Her little sister was always known for her escapades, more so that Faylin at times and in a warp way, it made her proud. Mischief ran in the family she thought.

"Not legally." She softly responded.

"Savannah Marie McAlister....how many times have I told you to use protection?" Faylin's tone was almost motherly, resulting in another roll of her sister's brown eyes.

"Uh....not that kind either big sis."

A look of relief washed over her face as Faylin took another sip of the coffee, forgetting for a second that it was cold, and scowled again. "Then....what's the problem."

"I........." Her eyes fell downwards, not able to finish the sentence.

A slight smile started to grow on Faylin's face, knowing all too well the type of 'trouble' her sister was in. "You!"

"What?" Savvy asked innocently.

"No....no no no you don't. Who is he?" McAlister leaned back in her chair a little too far and lost her balance as her arms flew out and attempted to balance herself.

"Some assassin you turned out to be...can't even balance yourself." Savvy spat playfully.

"Don't change the topic....you've fallen...you've finally fallen for a guy. Holy cow...never thought I would see the day."

"I haven't fallen for him, he's gone MIA...."

"Oh...." Her voice had hints of disappointment through it as Faylin balanced herself better on her chair. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not...not in the least. I've spoken to his wife......"

At this point, Faylin smacked her forehead and muttered 'Oi' before responding to her sister. "He has a wife?"

"It's an open marriage."

McAlister jettisoned a single eyebrow upwards and shook her head. "Interesting. Look honey, my advice is just to get as far away from them as possible. You don't need to get tangled up in that kind of situation. It will just lead to heartache for you....you know that..."

"I know...but..."

"But...Yes, that's the word. Concentrate on your duties right now....and by that I mean the duties other than servicing the men of Starfleet on the Miranda." She couldn't help but snicker at her sister.

A rather large smirk was the reply but before she could respond, Faylin voice cut through the air. "Listen...I'm here for...........Oh...hey Steven......um...hon.....I'm working here...STOP THAT!" A crisp playful slap was heard as was Faylin's wild giggling. Without provocation, Faylin's hubby popped himself practically on his wife's lap with a large grin on his face and waved in a comical manner to Savannah.

"Hey Jonas...." She smiled back at him. Her sister had it all....and she was finding out that she was jealous. "Look Fay...I'll talk to you later...k?"

"K.....feel better would ya?"

"I'll try." And with that, Savannah sighed and turned off her display, wondering where her life was heading.

"Stony Rejection"

Starring
Crewman Allison
Crewman Mary Poppins

USS GALAXY

Allison managed to hold back the tears until she burst through the doors of her room and threw herself at her bunk.

"He hates me!!!" she wailed burying her face in her pink "My Little Pony" pilowcase.

"He hates me! He thinks I'm ugly! He doesnt like my singing! He wants me to go away!"

Kicking her little leather boots against the mattress, Alli muffled her scream into the pillow for a long moment only to break down into deep sobs when she could scream no more.

From her side of the room, Mary Poppins the Horta shifted uncomfortably on her little rock perch.

Humans in general were hard enough to understand, but this little blond haired whirlwind was stranger than most.

Clearing her electronically reproduced voice Poppins ventured carefully, "Problems at the office dearie?"

"He hates me!" Alli quaverred popping her head out of the pillow. "He hates me he hates me!"

"I got that part....and good gracious me but dont we look a frightful mess luv."

Indeed the hollows under Alli's eyes were dark smudges of blue and pink mascara, and tear streaks had washed away little rivers of purple glitter.

"Im ugly." Allison pouted, bottom lip quivvering.

"Tsk tsk." Poppins soothed shuffling her rocky way over to Alli's bedside and extending a reassuring pseudopod, "No need to beat yourself up luv, life does that enough to us all. Why dont we be a good girl now and tell Auntie Poppins all about it.

"Waaaaah!!"

"Quite right dearie, quite right......"

== == ==

A few minutes of wailing, and a hotcup of coa-coa later, and young Allison had regained a semblance of composure.

Tiny rivers of mascara still bled down her cheeks, but at least she was coherrant.

"He said he thinks I should meet other people ...." she pouted, cradling the steaming coa coa in tiny hands, "I dont want to meet other people ......I didnt do anything wrong, he just doesnt want to be around me.......he hates me!"

"There there luv," Poppins consoled munching on a wafer of granite herself, "He doesnt hate you dearie....he's just your boss and from what I understand about human relations he doesnt want to appear to be favoring you."

"Dont be gross Mary." Alli stuck out her tongue. "I just know he's making a very big mistake in his choice of women thats all. I mean.....he's got one daughter already that he doesnt pay attention to, and now he's gonna go have some blue babies with HORNS?

"I thought they were called antenna?"

"Whatever....he's got one kid with green blood, and now the potential for one with blue skin....the point is he's irresponcible and inattentive."

Poppins paused, unable to follow the girl's rapidly shifting subjects. "So are we mad because he doesnt like you.....or that he doesnt pay attention to offspring that havent even been born yet?"

"Whatever," Alli spat, "Same difference."

The two roomies sat in silene for a good while, broken by the occasional sniffle from the human.

Picking up her ancient guitar from its bedside stand, Alli began to lethargicaly pick out a random tune using her long nails as natural picks.

Poppins listened to the quiet strumming for a while, attempting to learn, as alwyas, what it was about humans and their music and how it entwined with their emotional state. "Interesting luv......is this something you wrote...some of your 'Rock music?'"

As a living rock herself, Poppins found it endlessly amusing that something loud and fast was called 'rock, when stones was by nature....quite immobile and silent.

"Naw..." Alli sighed, shifting keys smoothly, "This is classical.....Mahler's 9th symphony, seemed sad enough...." she plucked lazily, resting her chin on the smooth plastic.

"It just isnt fair."

"It never is dearie."

A few more quiet chords, and the music drifted away. Even Mahlers sad tones seemed inadequate for her mood.

"Why doesnt he love me.....?"

"Good vs. Evil"

lt. JG Faylin McAlister
JAG

Location: Ten Forward
-----------------------

Her gaze, stoic as she sat in the dark lounge of ten forward. Her eyes observed people from afar, not really caring what they looked like. In all instances, all of them looked like asses. They permitted her to get close enough to really care for her. And, she ripped them to shreds, stopped on their hearts, and then ate the flesh with satisfaction.

All of them in some instance were responsible for Olivia's death, responsible for Saul's coolness towards her, responsible for her injuries on Romulus, her run in with her father, her telling the truth concerning the Inner Sactum, and.....they were the target of all her pent up hurt, aggression, and hostility for the events that occurred over her arrival on the Galaxy. The people of the Galaxy were the innocent fools that mistook her for a caring loving person. They was her scapegoat, her target, the target of all her photon torpedos of guilt.

Slowly, little by little, she whittled away their kindness towards her. Fine. She thought as her lip curled upwards to reveal the true scowl hidden behind the smile for her husband. He was the only one her 'nice' side kept. He had been through a lot with her, and gained her utmost respect in that instance. Everyone else could go screw themselves. Sure, there was Zev, but he'd likely just fart it away. There was no evil satisfaction gained in tormenting a person that was already mentally tormented. The new targets of her *inner demoness* would have to be fresh, naive, and unwilling to surrender to her mocking ugliness.

Cradling her face in her hands, she shook her head gently to squelch the demon rebelling in her yet again. These people did not deserve her anger and hatred. What she did, she brought upon herself.

"Who are you kidding?" The hiss forced her to look to her left as the snake coiled lovingly around the bottom of her calf and came upwards, finally resting it's head on her shoulder.

"Who are you?" Faylin whispered with large eyes.

"I am the ssssssssserpent. I represent the evilness within you."

"Youv'e grown quiet large since the last time I saw you." McAlister muttered.

"Yesssssssssss, thankssssssss to you" It whispered seductively in her ear.

Faylin rolled her eyes as a small white dove appeared on her other shoulder. "Great. Don't crap on my shoulder....I just had the uniform cleaned." She muttered.

"What are you doing here?" The snake hissed.

"I'm here for the goodness of Faylin."

"Okay, you two...can you go argue over my inner soul somewhere else please? I have a lot on my plate right now...." Faylin responded.

"You need to make a choice Faylin. Good or Evil." The dove chirped.

The black snake slithered over to the dove, looked at it with a careful eye, and laughed. "We all know the answer to that."

"Let the choice be hers."

McAlister blew an exaggerated sigh from her mouth. Standing, she glanced at the snake and the dove. "Fight it out and let me know who wins." Her voice was gruff and she didn't have time to choice the 'darkness or light' persona she was going to carry off.

The dove glanced over at the snake who had arched upwards with a very satisfied look on his face. In the pale illumination on the back wall, two shadowed figures were outlined against the egg shell coloring of the wall itself. The larger of the two violently leached forward, grabbing the smaller of the two. With the dove in it's mouth, the serpent threw his body back, swallowing the bird whole, digesting what was left of the peaceful workings of Faylin McAlister in record time.

"Good Vs. Evil" Part Two

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister

The slowness of the meal digesting disturbed the creature that ate it. He felt bloated, more so that usual after a meal that was satisfying. Yet, in the back of his small brain, some inborn instinct told him that his death was near. It did not make sense, food as small as that had been. Why, he had swallowed hole being before, why this now?

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

It was dark as the creature morphed. Given the time outside, it would have flourished into what it was meant to become. Yet, as the blackness enveloped her, she felt herself changing. Not against her will, however, she wished that she had more room to stretch her growing body. She felt overly constricted, her breath became ragged, surrounded by nothing but slick substances and blood.

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

Dressing for bed, McAlister felt overly tired for some reason. Perhaps, it was due to the fact that she had yet to find out what her soul was going to be. Honestly, she didn't care. Good or bad, it was all the same to her. She smirked as she stripped the robe from her shoulders and crawled into bed. Indifference, the woman thought with a smirk. While the battle for good or evil rages, she felt indifferent. Who wouldn't with no conscious to nag her? That was a concept, no conscious. There ya go! Faylin's mind continued to churn as she closed her eyelids.

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

The luminous light filled the large tiled room. His servant stepped forward, bowing at his feet in respect. The baritone voice, calm, surrounded the creature's soul lifting her off the ground. "You have fight left in you."

"Yes, I do."

"You have enough to win her soul back....."

"Yes."

Standing from his thrown, he outstretched his hand and held it palm up as the soul before him rotated in the air, caressed by his loving light. "Go........Deliver her."

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

The serpent slithered against the ground as paused violence erupted with him. As his eyes rolled back into his head, signaling his potential death, the dull orange beak twinged with crimson poked through the scales. As the bird struggled against the constricting stretch of the snake, she pushed her head free, opened her black eyes, and took a first breath of sweet air.

The gentle sloping of her new back arched as she wigged free. Her talons stayed on the flesh of the snake, biting into it's scales with a new determination. Looking down at her capture, she blinked her eyes once. The dominant role had switched as the dove turned eagle stretched her wings to an impressive six foot length totally shadowing the snake.

He wiggled, or attempted to beneath the violent claws of his predator. As his head swung forward, he was able to view himself being lifted off the ground in defeat. As the scenery grew black, the only sound to cut through the darkness that swallowed him whole was the victorious scream of the Eagle as it flew to it's nest in Faylin's soul.

OOC - Was slightly delayed sorry, takes place directly after Pt one, before "Assessing Potential"

"Making It Mine" Part Two

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe
Chief of Engineering

Lieutenant Michael Jamson
Chief of Operations

***Location: USS Galaxy Main Engineering***

As Eshe turned to point her office, Michael suddenly minded some strange looking surgical traces on her neck and head, quite close to the Trill markings. Was she assimilated by the collective during their last mission on Barzan? He didn't have enough time to go through all the reports, but this was odd. He would have expected to hear about it by now, since rumors onboard never remained such. Most of what you've heard in the corridors of the big ship, was in many situations, if not all, true. Still, he didn't want to put her in an awkward situation and ask.

Regarding the room, she clearly stated she wanted to change it for personal reasons, so he would definitely respect her wishes and wouldn't ask why. "I guess some new paint and furniture, could do the trick...." he walked around. "Do you have anything special you'd be needing or wanting?" The least he could do for her, now after imagining the horrors she must have gone through, and the fact of her being... Dhani, a friend, was to help out. The anger and frustration that swamped him before, were gone now. He experienced a sense of calmness whenever Dhani was around. Not since the days of counselor Shivok, had Jamson felt this way. He was, comfortable, at last.

Lingering in the doorway Dhani regarded the room and Mike as he walked about surveying it. "I want more than a paint job and a new desk." she said with a trace amount of aggravation. Her eyes were centered on the desk; her anger seemed to be directed towards it.

After a few minutes she blinked and turned her face towards him, "I don't want this office to bare any resemblance to how it dose now." she told him flatly, "If that means moving the walls, totally gutting it, changing the location entirely.." she paused, "We could swap this round with the store room.." she said in contemplation as she stepped to the door and looked across Engineering. She turned back to Jamson with raised questioning eyebrows.

"Hmmm...." Jamson mumbled again. He wasn't sure what Eshe wanted, but if it was a whole new room, then he'd have get some help from someone who knew what he was doing. It would be much easier if he knew what she was craving for, "Dhani, all I have is regular starfleet schematics. So, unless you have any ideas, I'm kind of lost here." Even though this was the Chief Engineer's room, it wasn't so different than the standard crew quarters. Operations was in charge of the quarters along with engineering who kept maintaining the necessary systems when needed. The model was based on starship blueprints, duplicates and copies. All the rooms and corridors, mess halls, bridges and turbolifts were the same all over the fleet, with the final alteration or result being made by the enlisted crew and residents. In some cases, personal taste was a curse, while in others, it was refreshing, innovating and a blessing.

Dhanishta looked about. "Basically I want the office to look completely different. I can't work in that space as it is now." she frowned, not wanting to explain but she knew she had to give him a bit more than that. Looking around she though for a moment, "I'll grab a pad." she said disappearing out of the door.

Jamosn wandered around. He'd been in this room so many times before, over the years, but never did he actually stop and took a closer look. Hearing Dhani, all he could think of was Brianna and Suder. Without those two, he'd barely set foot in engineering. Making a few more steps into the interior, he noticed a side door. Facing against it didn't cause it to open, so he reached to open it, only to be surprised by a large pile of materials being thrown at him through the same very opening. "I see...." he raised an eyebrow before looking at the Eshe with a broken smile.

Returning just in time to see objects raining down on Mike Dhani couldn't help but laugh. "What are store rooms for?" she asked with a grin and a shrug. "Anyway," she continued waving him over, "Here is what I'm thinking…" she began to sketch a very brief outline, quite basic. Adding details of a rest room on the right hand side, left she supposed as you walked into the office… then a desk towards the back, with shelves to the left of that, to the right in the alcove created by the rest room; a corner couch suite and along the wall connecting to Main Engineering, a door to the far left and a holographic window.

"I was thinking that the window could be holographic, for a start; so when I throw someone through it they go through it and it doesn't break, saves me replacing it." she mused remembering when she had thrown Suder through it. "Also it could be see-through when I want to watch them," she pointed a menacing finger at the crew milling around beyond the door way, "and when I want privacy, dimmed. And it could also be used as a display during meetings and the like." She paused now and looked up at him, "Ya think ya can do that for me Sparky?" she probed with a cheeky smile.

'Sparky???' Michael's mind cried out from within. Did she actually call him sparky or was he hallucinating? He could feel his entire world being turned upside down, his stomach boiling and his chest on fire. He could feel a slight dizziness underway. He tried to grab a hold of himself, like the proud warrior he thought he was, but like many cases before Dhani, he preferred to simply swallow his pride and let this incident pass by, as he was no match for her. "Sparky...it is" he complied and look surprised, while trying unsuccessfully to avoid a slight grin. He just hoped she wouldn't call him like that in front of everyone else. He was subdued.

"The holographic window and display is an excellent idea! Although it would take some time to replicate it, with the current status of the ship." The idea of tossing people through that virtual window, especially engineers, enchanted Jamson. That store room was finished, he would gladly take plasma hammer and break it into tiny pieces.

Dhani smiled, "I could draw up some schematics for it tonight and send them to you. I am away for a couple of weeks, I agreed to be Kimberly's engineer for the Kitty-Kat. She has entered it into some race or another… honestly I didn't pay much attention, was in sick bay at the time. Don't much like that place." she added solemnly. "Though with all the time I spend in hospitals you would have thought I would have taken up residence."

Michael had his fair share hospitals and sickbays, and he shared her feelings as well. "I've never thought the good doctor was a race jockey," he remarked while trying to visualize what Dhani exactly wanted. "As for the schematics, I'll figure out something, don't worry about it." he continued and without pausing added right away "I hate sickbay as well." He didn't understand what she was doing at sickbay, did it have anything to do with those surgical scar like marks she had? He didn't know, and once more, he didn't feel easy to let his curiosity meddle with Eshe's private affairs.

She smiled at his confused look and decided to elaborate, "I was on a 'training mission'," she air quoted, it wouldn't be long until news spread of their covert mission to recapture the USS Bonestell and the missing crew kidnapped from the station, "while you lot had 'fun' at Barzan. The doctors got a bit overzealous with altering my facial features to add to the 'look' that was needed for the 'training mission'." she explained. Shrugging she turned back and looked at the room, holding up the padd she tried to visualize her sketch.

"Oh..." was all he could say. Not that he understood what had happened, and it must have had something to do with the damn Admiral as well. Training missions as they were called were shrouded with secrecy and usually meant confidential. It wouldn't be too long before he receive a report about this 'secret' operation, or if rumors get to him first. Whatever mission it was, it must have been more enjoyable then engaging the Borg in combat.

"Oh," she exclaimed turning back to Mike, "I want the main wall," she tapped the wall that separated the office from Main Engineering, "to be black. And the other three a dark crimson red." She paused again in contemplation, "Would have to add extra lighting to overcome how dark that would make the room." she mumbled more to herself than him chewing on the stylus. "As for the rest room…" she grinned deviously, "surprise me. something… contemporary, sleek and ya know, chilling."

"Mmm... black?" he thought out loud, "Dark crimson red???" Jamson continued. He'd never thought of an office to look so...he couldn't even find the appropriate word. "Are you sure...?" Michael stared at her. He couldn't imagine the captain or the first officer to sit in this room, but he could imagine what their responses would be, and he was certain they'll come looking for him afterwards, and demand to know what the hell was thinking, approving this most peculiar design.

Dhanishta slyly smiled and nodded slowly as she visualized the room. "Yeah," she replied a grin growing, "I'm sure." She turned to face him, "Might need a few color samples for the red, just to make sure, but… yeah, one wall black the other three red, and I'm gonna wants some plants." she added smiling slightly. "Don't worry it'll look great." she grinned.

"You know what they say...it's your funeral." Jamson replied. He could almost foresee, not for the first time, new regulations coming his way concerning office designing onboard a Starfleet vessel. "I'll take of the plants section, personally! I have some great Chinese evergreen, Orchids, African violets, Neanth bella, English ivy, and more from the arboretum." he immediately thought of some decorative and flowering plants from his own personal garden. He used to spend hours cultivating and nurturing his most beloved plants. It gave him an immense satisfaction, and like many other occupational therapies, other than work, provided him with a great sense of tranquility and inner peace. Temperature, artificial light, fertilizers, humidity, soil and moisture...those were only some of the factors he had to worry about.

"I'll defiantly want some evergreens to offset the red, give it a tropical feel. But did you have to go and mention Orchids?" she asked with a mock sour expression, "There only like my favorite flower, ever!" she said placing her hands on her hips with a sigh, "Electric purple and blue… now I have to rethink the entire color scheme!" Rolling her eyes she turned back to look at the space and pondered… a dark fiery pit, or tranquil and relaxing? She frowned; redecorating was harder than she thought!

"Yep...Orchids." Michael smiled. He had no idea of her affection for orchids. "I have plenty....I have white doves, white swans, grape wax, imperial wings, winter wine for fragrance if you wish, Santa Barbara, Shady ladies, red sky! You name it! And if I don't have what you want, we can always replicate although it's not the same." he said with pure excitement. Orchids were only a small fragment of what he had, but he adored them. There were more than 800 genres and over 20,000 species. "Be advised however, that we might have to change your environmental settings around here."

Dhanishta smiled at his enthusiasm. "I had no idea that you loved Orchids as much as I." she replied pursing her lips. "Go ahead with the changes, but when I get back from my trip I think you and I need to sit down and go over the different species you have." She turned and grinned, "I have yet to decorate my quarters!"

"Aftermath" Part One

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Chief of Engineering

Mr. Michael McDowell - Civilian Engineering Specialist

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer

<Takes place several hours after "Reveal Pt 10">

***Location: USS Galaxy; Deck 8, Crew quarters***

Dhanishta sat at the glass table, miraculously it had stayed in tact; nothing else had. Her fingers were wrapped around a shot glass, although the tips of her fingers were barley touching the glass now as they still trembled. The contents of the glass, or what had been poured hastily into it, had formed a puddle on the table, congealed slightly and sticky given the time it had been left there.

The bottle of whisky was now a quarter empty. Dhanishta had traded the glass for the bottle. It was easier to hold and drink from as she trembled. Still she wasn't sure, but she thought she might have chipped a tooth or two in her attempts to drink it and quell her shaking. It had helped, but not much.

She had left the lights on low since Baile had left. It was comforting, the starlight mingled with the dappled lighting overhead kept her calm. Her nose stung like a mother f***** now. The swelling had started, she could feel it across the bridge of her nose, pushing into her eyes, that themselves were puffy and swollen from crying. Picking up the cracked hand mirror again she looked at herself, gently probing the injured area with her index finger; that were still stained with blood.

Wincing she picked up the osteogenic stimulator and aimed it once more at the obvious break. Activating it she frowned again, the crack in the mirror made it difficult to see her face, that and her trembling hands, forced her to turn off the device and wait for Michael to come home. For a moment the notion to clean up and hide all the evidence of what had transpired here entered her head. But it had taken her half an hour to get out the whisky, find the osteogenic stimulator and sit at the table. Normally it would have taken her five minutes to gather those items. Her body was exhausted. Her stomach was still in knots and she felt rough as hell. She closed her eyes again and dropped her head; she was so thankful that she was leaving in the morning with Kimberly, she would be extremely glad to get away for a while.

~*~

"Sorry!!" Michael hollered as he clashed into someone while he ran to the nearest Turbo lift. "Coming through, coming through!!" he cried out next as he quickly approached another couple of people. All looked surprised but hastily stepped aside. They probably wondered what was going on. Michael couldn't care less right now. Only one thing was important and that was to get back to the quarters he and Dhani shared as quickly as possible.

While he kept running as fast as he could, and dodging more people, his mind cursed this day where everything seemed to go bad. First Baile punching Dhani in the face, Dhani 'ordering' him out of their quarters using such a commanding voice he couldn't refuse, then an emergency call from Engineering... one, in the end, turned out to be a false alarm! Someone was going to pay for that screw-up.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he did reach his Quarters. He was almost out of breath, sweat glistened on his forehead. A dark formless spot had formed on tunic at chest height. He noticed the doors were still closed and so, more on impulse then anything else, he pressed the chime. But he didn't wait for an answer. "Dhani? Dhani, are you there!? Please open the door. Dhani!"

Her head turned slowly towards the door upon hearing the plea beyond it. She stared at it for a time. Confusion rained within. Anger, she was angry for what had happened, and sad, so terribly sad. She wanted to vent and cry and scream and…

Her eyes welled at the sound of his voice. She could feel him now, now that she had let her walls back down to prevent her turmoil from spilling out unabated. "Computer." she called out, still unsure about her ability to walk in a straight line, "Disable door lock, authorization: Eshe Alpha Tango 8 5 9 Omega Zulu."

With a beep of acknowledgment the computer released the locks with an audible clunk and they slid open, the light flooding in, only hampered by Michaels form. Dhani looked up at him, blinded by the brightness she squinted, her face creasing in pain from doing so, but she gritted her teeth and kept her eyes on him. She felt a lump rising in her throat. She could feel the onset of tears in the corners of her eyes; feel her nose tingle and sting. She pushed it back: the urge to weep. Sniffing slightly she continued to stare at him as he gapped at her in the light from outside. It illuminated her features, the red rims around her puffy eyes, her nose; swollen, broken and bruised.

It was like he froze on the spot he was standing, right then and there. Waves of emotions, coming from Dhani, washed over him. There was anger, pain, and so much sadness...all at the same time. He looked down at her, and what he saw filled him with...- Words could not describe what he felt, but it was close to what Dhani felt, like their emotions were somehow synchronized. Then it all changed and a feeling of deep concern and overwhelming anger took over.

"Oh no... not this!" he slowly said, his voice carrying the pain he felt. He walked into the room and knelt beside Dhani. The doors closed behind him. "What happened Dhani? What the hell happened!? It was him, wasn't it! Where did he go!? Tell me, and I'll personally beat the crap out of him! No more playing Mr. Nice Guy!"

Dhanishta just stared down at him through blurred vision as the tears welled. She didn't want to cry, not any more, but seeing him, feeling him so close to her, she couldn't stop her chin from wobbling, or the tears from falling. She shook her head and sniffed, her nose was running again. Wiping it gently on the back of her hand she winced, even at her own gentle touch, her nose was throbbing.

Turning from Michael she picked up the osteogenic stimulator and handed it to him. She fought with herself. She wanted to be strong, to not let what had happened bother her, but she was far from any form of control. "I can't fix it myself." she said in a wavering voice. "Please?" she asked offering the medical tool to him, completely ignoring his request for Bailes location and demands to know what had happened.

Michael took the medical appliance but was uncertain how it had to be used properly to heal her nose. He first helped her to sit upright, gently as to not cause her more pain than she already had. After closer look at her injuries he sighed and placed the osteogenic stimulator on the table to the left of him. "I...I don't know to do that, Nishta. We have to get to Sickbay. They'll know what to do. You'll see." He said while trying to put some confidence and optimism into his voice.

"I am *not* going to sick bay!" Dhani refused point blank. Her tone and aggression it contained was enough to let him know she as not going to change her mind on that topic. "If you can't do it, then I will do it myself!" she said defiantly picking up the stimulator she tried once more to hold it steady before she even brought it to her face. She focused her eyes on it, as if that would help. Her ire rose and she slammed the tool back down on the table with frustration.

~Hey, Nish, please listen to me this time? I know you don't want to go there. But, as you can see, it's the only way. I would never say this if I didn't think it was really necessary. You know that, right?~ Michael used their telepathic link to tell Dhani what he was thinking since it was clear that she couldn't be persuaded by normal means. The link was so much more personal than just speech because it not only conveyed words but emotion. This way Dhani could feel that he was being 100% honest with her and only concerned for her well-being. He wasn't out to pester her by saying she need to visit Sickbay.

"I SAID NO DAMN IT!" Dhani hollered slamming her fist down on the table causing the glass to crack and splinter. For a second she looked at it, she had wondered when that would happen.

Michael jumped up as the glass slid off the table and crashed onto the floor. He was stunned by Dhani's sudden outburst. He could almost taste the aggression that boiled within in her. He held his breath until the quietness returned. He could understand she was mad, but this? "Alright! Alright, we won't go to Sickbay. But who do you suppose is going to fix your nose and take care of your cuts and bruises, huh? I don't care who does it, but I'll be damned to let you sit here like this without getting proper medical attention!"

"I don't care!" Dhani snapped through gritted teeth. Her shaking increased, her entire core vibrated. The anger towards… everything, it coursed through her. Picking up the mirror that was tittering over the edge of the table she snatched it up. Standing up she threw it across the room: just to relieve the tension. She was dammed if she turned her anger towards Michael. She had been trying to protect him from this side of her for so long, she would kill Baile herself if their meeting in effect caused her to break that promise.

Grabbing the whisky she downed several gulps, cringing as the liquid burned her throat. She had to stay in control. She had to stay in control... she had to!!!!

This was getting out of hand. Even for Dhani this was going downhill. "Hey! Easy!" He grabbed the whisky bottle out of her hands. "That's enough. You don't need that!"

Reeling from the sudden disappearance of the bottle Dhani wiped her mouth and glared at Michaels back. If looks could kill!

He didn't wait for Dhani's reaction but turned away, keeping the whisky out of reach from Dhani, and tapped his commbadge. "McDowell to Burton..."

Fast asleep when the hail arrived, Kimberly was roused by the voice. A little bleary eyed she opened her eyes and looked at a chrono on her bedside table. ~ Oh Goddess. ~ she muttered silently, hoping to have gotten a little more sleep before the early start her and Dhani had planned today. "Burton here." she replied, trying to sound more awake than she actually was. She had told Michael a while back to call her, anytime, if he needed to, so he had obviously taken her at her word. ~ The Universe and its impeccable timing. ~ realizing long ago that the higher powers had their own agenda, she should have expected calls at odd hours after an offer like that. "How can I help?" she enquired as she sat up and rotated her legs out of the bed, yawning and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

["Doctor, I can really use you help right now. It's Dhani. She's...] Michael stopped mid-sentence. He wondered how to describe her. ["She's not doing well at all. I hardly recognize her anymore. She's... not Dhani."]

"Who Observes the Observer?"

Lieutenant Commander Tarin Iniara
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin
Chief Astrophysicist

Lieutenant Junior Grade Victor Krieghoff
Security Patrol Officer

Lieutenant Junior Grade Zev Raynor
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

Ensign Artim Shivar
Science Officer

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval
Science Officer

Ensign Keldan
Operations Officer

=====

The strange man continued his slow walk towards Keldan. He was of average height and thin, with vaguely humanoid features. As he got closer they could see the lack of fine detail in his face, almost as if he was a changeling having difficulty forming human features. Keldan stood his ground at the approach of the alien, trying to appear non-threatening to the smaller humanoid. If the plant-like being was intimidated by him in any way, he certainly didn't show it.

The man reached a hand out, revealing spindly, translucent fingers whose tips were a deep, mossy green. He touched Keldan's chest, plucking his communicator badge from the fabric of his uniform. Turning it over in his hands he examined it carefully for several seconds. When he was finished he looked back at Keldan, favoring him with a wide, benevolent smile. At this distance Keldan could see that where he would have had teeth there was only a single white surface, as if the individual teeth had been fused together. And except for the black of his pupils, it seemed that his eyes were completely devoid of color.

"I am the Observer," he stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His voice was smooth and pleasant to hear. "I...observe."

Still believing he was the only one of the away-team present, Keldan asked politely, "And what, precisely, are you here to observe?"

"Life, of course." Turning away from Keldan, the Observer began to move towards the rest of the group, clustered nearby at the edge of the clearing. "Who among you is eldest? Who among you speaks for your clan?"

It was, Victor reflected, as he ran up on the scene and heard the last words from the figure, moments like this that proved that he was not paranoid in believing that Number Three was the correct choice, and in believing that the Divine hated him.

Artim looked at the man, well, if that's what you could call him as he looked more like one of the plants then anything else. He appeared to want to speak to the eldest amongst the group and, well, oddly enough that was Artim. Before Zev could make some smart ass remark and ruin everything, Artim stepped forward and said in a soft and even tone. "I am the eldest amongst us Observer though I might not appear to be. I greet you in the name of our clan."

"Then allow me to welcome you to my home," the Observer replied, bowing gracefully towards Artim, his arms thrown wide in a flourish. His hands were unexpectedly empty; Keldan's commbadge was nowhere to be seen. "But tell me, how have you come here? I saw no vessel arrive..."

And he wasn't likely to, Victor thought to himself as he surreptitiously started his tricorder scanning. In fact, if as he expected, the scans turned up something suspicious and Victor had his way, he wouldn't be talking to anyone here either.

"We came aboard the Starship Galaxy from many distant worlds," Artim replied, switching over from pissed off kid mode to wise old man mode. Sometimes having studied theatre came in handy.

"Ahh, a vessel in the stars!" the Observer exclaimed, pointing a finger skyward. "Then surely there are others like you?"

"Indeed, a great number," the Miran replied.

"They must join us! Please, ask them to land your vessel. There is a clearing not far from here."

"Well, that would be a bit difficult. Our ship doesn't easily land, well, more accurately it doesn't easily get back up," Artim said truthfully. While some starships were capable of landing and takeoff, the Galaxy class was not amongst them. "However, more may come in time; that will depend on many things."

Victor debated ending the conversation at that point, before Artim revealed any more tactical information that the Observer didn't need to know, but decided to wait - it was much easier to explain why he'd done something when the reasons for it were obvious enough that it didn't need explanation.

Elissa studied the man warily, then sighed and took a step forward. Raising her tricorder, she started to scan him while presenting the least threatening demeanor possible. When he looked at her and the tricorder curiously, Skylark simply smiled. "I'm an observer too." He returned the smile, holding a hand out towards her tricorder, as if he was offering it up for examination. The light reflected unexpectedly off his palm, drawing her attention. She could have sworn there was something metallic embedded in his skin.

The readings, however, were far from satisfactory. Elissa had a hard time discerning the man from the vegetation around him. In fact, her eyes seemed to be telling her more than the tricorder. The stranger's skin was milky and practically translucent, showing veins that didn't seem to have any common humanoid form, and they were, like the top of his head and under his fingernails, green-hued and... he simply didn't share enough traits with Vulcans or Romulans, as she'd hoped he'd be.

Elissa shook her head at the device. She nodded respectfully to the Observer, and then walked up to Artim. "I think Miguel needs to see these readings," she spoke discretely to Artim, handing him her tricorder. She smiled at the stranger again. "Observing is quite enjoyable, isn't it? Just can't get enough of it..."

As if on cue, two rustling green bushes parted to reveal the team's young Botanist.

"Mira here," he gestured to his companions holding a tiny specimen jar aloft, "Look at the amazing leaf structures on this......Madre De Dios!!!" Miguel swore unconsciously as he suddenly noticed the strange creature standing in the clearing.

Fighting a sudden urge to retreat......(as far away as possible and preferably standing behind that scary Krieghoff fellow).....Miguel's trained eyes suddenly took note of something peculiar about the skin texture of the stranger.

"Estupendo...." he marveled taking an involuntary step forward, eyes never leaving the translucent pulsating just visible beneath the strange man's 'skin'. Pulling out his tricorder, to confirm what his eyes were telling him, Miguel scanned the creature carefully.....who seemed to take only a mild interest in the Latinos movements.

"Osmotic pressure differences in the soles of his feet........Surface tension fluid loss along the upper extremities......transpirational pull and circulation...." The botanist breathed to himself in amazement. "Senor Artim!" he called to his small associate. "Mira.....Transpirational pull!" he waved his tricorder as if he just made the most amazing discovery in the universe.

Which, Victor supposed, as he glanced at his own readings, was the botanist's way of saying that they were talking to a shrubbery.

Artim glanced over at the readings though they required no explanation for him as botany was something he held a degree in. He nodded satisfactorily at them and then looked up at the Observer and said, "May I ask a question sir. What exactly are you? You seem, and pardon my narrow mindedness as in my many years I've never seen anything quite like this, to be...well...a plant. Mere curiosity of course," Artim said in a friendly tone.

"I am...life," the Observer replied after a moment. "Life flows through this place. It flows through me. It sustains me."

"Fascinating. I've heard legends of such beings over the centuries but never thought I would see one," Artim replied, nodding as he looked around to see what the others of his 'clan' were doing.

When he thought the Observer's attention was sufficiently diverted toward the other members of the away-team, Keldan retrieved his own tricorder to take some readings of his own. He was mildly interested in seeing what had become of his communicator, though hopefully retrieving it could be easily accomplished. Kel was more interested in seeing if their new visitor was the reason of the strange power drain on the portable console. Perhaps his proximity to the device had been the source of the problem?

Victor's scans of the 'Observer' completed, he checked the location of the team members again - and frowned at the tricorder. According to its readings, Ensign Keldan was *inside* the observer… or rather, his commbadge was. He checked that visually, reminded himself that Keldan was in Operations and didn't necessarily get paid to consider why giving Starfleet communications devices to alien life forms was a poor idea, and tagged the commbadge as 'a potential hostile' in his readout. He'd let someone else explain to the Ensign why it had been a bad idea when they got back to the ship - and changed the com channels and encryption algorithms. If Keldan was lucky, the worst thing that would happen to him was that he'd get the bill for that.

A further frown crossed the Security Officer's face as he observed the plant life spreading outward in concentric circles from the console...and the concurrent drain on the power it was producing. The Observer, it seemed, needed power to grow, which meant that phasers might not be the best way to combat the entity if it came to that. Counting on the weapon's output to be too high to absorb was too risky.

Heedless of whatever diplomatic or cultural taboos he may be breaking (he was only a Botanist after all) Miguel also happily continued his scans. There were very few examples of sentient plants known in the universe, and his training at the Academy on the subject was woefully inadequate. Also while he preferred his flora to be generally non-bipedal in nature, this was a unique opportunity to gain valuable knowledge. He couldn't say for certain that Observer was genuinely a sentient plant, but he did exhibit the photosynthetic and circulatory internal structure common to the breed. Now if he would only stand still so he could complete his observations.......maybe even get a skin sample. Miguel reached in his pouch for a small pair of scissors.......

"The Situation Deteriorates"

Lieutenant Commander Tarin Iniara
Executive Officer

Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin
Chief Astrophysicist

Lieutenant Junior Grade Victor Krieghoff
Security Patrol Officer

Lieutenant Junior Grade Zev Raynor
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer

Ensign Elissa Skylark
Science Officer

Ensign Artim Shivar
Science Officer

Ensign Miguel Antonio Sandoval
Science Officer

Ensign Keldan
Operations Officer

with unauthorized appearances by...
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lieutenant "8-ball" Hunter
Lieutenant Michael Jamson

=====

"We need to get out of here!"

Iniara began to move back the way they had come, struggling to protect herself against the stinging dust which flew all around them. Even the thick foliage which had dogged them so badly offered little protection now.

"I thought you said the wind died down the farther away you got!" she shouted to Cutter as they continued their retreat. "It seems like it's getting worse!"

"It is," he said, then looked up, "but we're not moving away as fast as I did. How much do you weigh?"

"About sixty five kilos, why?"

He looked at her, "Ka'is! You ground walkers are heavy!" He looked up again, and thought for a moment, calculating. He was standing next to a thick tree, whose trunk was at least three feet in diameter. It sprouted up above all others that immediately surrounded it. "If we climb up above the canopy, I may be able to fly us back to the landing site. The wind should help me lift your considerable weight."

"Let's do it," she replied, already pulling herself into the lowest branches of the tree. At least the thick foliage would come in handy for something, she mused as she began to snake her way through the branches, while Cutter followed behind.

Two thirds of the way up Iniara suddenly froze, her whole body tensing as an unexpected feeling washed over her. She was suddenly sensing dozens...no, hundreds of minds, all rushing towards them.

"Prophets..." she breathed, her eyes wide with fear as she looked back toward the ridge."There's something out there! A lot of somethings! We have to hurry!" Tearing her gaze away from the ridge she began to climb again, this time much faster, much more recklessly.

Without speaking, Cutter hopped up the branches beside her, and wrapping his left arm around her stomach, spun her so she faced him. Then, he opened his wings, and like eighteen foot long sails, caught the strong winds and exploded away from the tree. Iniara could do little but to hold on and hope that the avian would be able to fly the both of them to safety.

=====

Back aboard the ship...

The sudden beeping of an alarm broke the silence which had descended upon Galaxy's bridge. Lieutenant Hunter, on duty at the Science station, quickly silenced the noise. "Captain, I am registering an atmospheric disturbance approximately four kilometers north of the away team," she reported, turning her attentions to the front of the bridge.

"On screen."

At Ops, Lieutenant Jamson quickly switched the display over, zooming in on the area in which the away team had landed hours before. Already they could see a sizeable dust cloud forming in the area, streaks of red and brown beginning to come together in a spiral pattern.

"Is it heading towards the team?" M'Kantu asked, his gaze fixed on the storm as it swirled about.

"No, sir; not yet," Hunter replied as she double checked her own readouts. "It seems to be centering itself on a low mountain ridge of some sort."

"Mr. Jamson, alert the away team. I want them ready to beam out at a moment's notice."

Jamson nodded, his fingers already inputting the required commands. "Aye, sir."

=====

"You are not an observer," the Observer remarked as he watched Miguel. "Do you wish to damage me?"

Seeing the alien's reaction to the botanist, Keldan attempted to divert its attention. "As I told you before, we mean you no harm. We are explorers...observers, like yourself. We just go about it in different ways." He watched with concern as the alien continued to drain the portable console. He didn't want to worsen the situation by being confrontational, but things were progressing, and not in a good way. "You are tapping into our energy sources. For what purpose? Please, step away from the console and talk with us."

"Please try to understand," Elissa interjected. "We don't mean to..."

"Galaxy to Lieutenant Krieghoff," the voice of Lieutenant Jamson interrupted.

=/\= "Krieghoff."=/\= Victor answered.

"I'm having some trouble reaching 'Commander Tarin. Is everything alright down there?"

Victor doubted that they really wanted to know what he thought about the Away Team's current situation. Things like that seemed to make people nervous for some reason. =/\="Commander Tarin and Lieutenant Kara'nin are investigating a range of mountains north of us. Our current situation here is...evolving."=/\=

"There's a sandstorm of some sort forming about five kilometers north of you. Be prepared for a quick beam-out should it become a threat," the Ops Chief continued.

Elissa shivered, and looked at the swaying trees on their horizon. "Wind's picking up," she said quietly, almost to herself.

By the time the channel had closed, the Observer's expression had darkened significantly. "Your...friends?" he ventured. "The one who travels through the air, and the mind-speaker...they have entered the forbidden land. A region that holds only death."

A strong gust of wind blasted through the clearing, kicking up dead leaves as if on cue. The Observer looked skyward, watching with mild interest as the sky above them began to darken. "They have released that which must remain hidden. I am sorry, there is nothing I can do."

Artim's brow curled a bit as he turned to look in the direction the...whatever it was, was coming from. He asked in an honest voice, "What did they release?"

Victor felt a stirring to the north, a gathering the likes of which he hadn't felt since the ruins on Trill after the disaster there. Inside him, something laughed in delight, the sound echoing in Victor's voice as he answered the question, "The dead."

"That's not being very logical," Elissa protested. She didn't sound angry or condescending, but shaken. Her arms were crossed defensively as the vengeful wind whipped her ponytail around, slapping it lightly against her cheek. As the gusts continued to pick up, she stepped over to Victor. "Re-regardless, I think we better pack up, sir."

=====

"Sir! The disturbance is rapidly expanding!" Lieutenant Hunter exclaimed suddenly. "Maximum sustained winds at the center are 120 kilometers per hour!"

M'Kantu's frown deepened as he peered down at the Sciences console. The computer had lost track of Tarin and Kara'nin's life signs several minutes ago, and according to Krieghoff they may or may not have been in the middle of that storm when it began. "Mr. Jamson, any luck finding them?"

"Not yet sir. Boosting sensors to maximum range..." Jamson tapped in several commands, and then frowned after a moment. "Wait...I think I may have them," he said as he continued to tap at his console. "Got them! They're exiting the storm now."

"Bridge to Transporter Room," M'Kantu called out. "Get them out of there!"

Several seconds passed before the reply. ["Captain, this is Transporter Room Three. We have them."]

M'Kantu's shoulders relaxed only slightly as he turned back to Jamson. "Inform the rest of the away team. I want them back now."

=====

The Observer continued to ignore their questions and protests, instead returning to the spot at which he had first appeared. "There is nothing I can do," he repeated, placing his hands atop the data console.

Victor looked to the north once, frowned as the wind suddenly picked up and the temperature started to drop noticeably, and announced flatly, "Something's coming," to the Away Team. "We're leaving. No discussion."

The console's lights continued to pulsate, radiating eerily through the Observer's translucent skin. His fingers seemed to thin and elongate, becoming almost vine-like as he stared at the piece of machinery. Around his feet, the grass began to grow rapidly, the vibrant green blades twisting and wrapping around his ankles. "There is nothing I can do. I must observe what I must. I must collect it. I must. I must."

Keldan watched as the creature continued to absorb power from the portable console. While the device's power reserves were not infinite, there was no telling what the creature might be able to do with it. But it was becoming unresponsive to their questioning, and he doubted the creature would give it up willingly. The operations officer turned to Lt. Krieghoff. "I am deactivating the console unit. It will just have to get its power from somewhere else." Deftly keying in commands on his tricorder, he also remembered to deactivate his commbadge, now embedded inside the creature's body. So much for his first first-contact experience. Two pieces of Federation technology in alien, potentially hostile hands. At least they were unusable. But for all his diplomatic expertise, he might as well have just tackled the alien at the first sign of trouble.

For his own part, Miguel Sandoval felt the familiar chill of déjà vu. Find an interesting planet to explore.....find some irreplaceable plant specimens to collect......things go to hell and planet blows up. Just another day in the Botany Department. Sighing calmly to himself in spite of the chaotic wind and danger all around him, Miguel quickly packed up his little specimen jars. He was getting used to making rapid retreats form the field, and somehow it was reassuringly familiar. ~~~Mi Dios, here we go again.....~~~ he thought..

"Galaxy to away team." It was Lieutenant Jamson again. "The storm is rapidly approaching your position. ETA three minutes. Prepare for immediate return to the ship."

No, no waiting. That just meant that he didn't have to argue with a scientist. =/\="Krieghoff to Galaxy. Beam everyone out now, emergency protocols. Do not, I repeat do not, use Ensign Keldan's commbadge to lock onto him. I will manually secure him."=/\= Victor stepped forward and grasped Keldan by the arm, his head turning to the north and what was coming towards them from that direction. He wondered if the transport would be in time...and why so much death was here in the middle of nothing at all.

And, as the transporter beam activated and pulled them away, he wondered why it felt...hungry.

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