"Manslaughter"

Vulcan Penal Rehabilitation Institute for Violent Criminals

Im Manslaughter......

My name........

My proffesion.......

The everloving darkest pit of my little black soul.

Manslaughter

Gawd but I love being me.

Breaking out of prison was like experiencing my first orgasm ever. Exploding into the shocked guards in an orgy of raw animalistc violence and fury.

Ripping the face off the first man, feeling the greasy red mush of his skin squeltching between my fingers.....

....roaring as the I stove in the chest of the second, sternum separating from the surrounding ribs and being driven straight back until it met the spine, welding front and back together in a cemented mess of pulverized bone and blood........

The other had to go more quickly than that.....I was pressed for time escaping prison and all, but I did take a few extra seconds to do the mashed potatos all over the body of the last one, seeing just how flat I could smear him into the floor.

Fuck......have to change my shoes now......asshole.

Green fucking blood. Where's the fun in that?

Stupid Vulcan Prison guards.

A twinge at my shoulder tells me I'm not alone, a huge stern faced Vulcan pressing on the vital nerve junction where neck and shoulder meet.

I laugh at him and dive deep into his eye sockets, pulling to rip his skull in two down the middle.

Pop goes the weasle.

More green....shit....I need off this damn planet.

A sky

A sky

A sky full of starships

A sky full of possibilities

A sky full of ways out of here.

Shit this planet is hot.

Step this way folks.

Boarding now for orbital transfer

Up up and away we go to.......

Shit where are we going.........oh yes the Galaxy.....A Starship.

Oh merciful fucking lord a Starship.

I laugh without knowing why.

That happens alot to me.

The orbital station is moored right up against the huge bulk of the Galaxy, a silver-grey leviathan hovering over the dark red glow of the world I so recently departed.

Did I mention it was hot down there? Shit. I forget easily.

Long lines of men and women...........mmmmmm women.

Lines of them dressed in uniforms all alike, Marines.

Oh joyous....my hand is clamped over my mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

Again I have no idea why that amuses me.

Must be quiet

Must be quick

Hold off for a few more seconds till you're aboard.

Where are they from.....The USS Miranda?

101st Marines merging with the 188th Marines?

Hup two three four march march march

You know how to march dont you?

I march well....... without knowing why.

They scan for me of course......well maybe not for me specifically silly man....but they scan all the same.

Cant see me

Cant see me

Tap tap tapping at your door

And inside.......

Beige.

Who paints a starship beige?

I dance down the long corridors laughing at last, and for once I know why.

I saw children on board.

What fun this will be.

Manslaughter-Part II
"Superman."

Earth

You dont step on Superman's Cape......
You dont spit into the wind.....
You dont pull the mask of ol' Lone Ranger....
And you dont mess around with Jim.......

Chief Star Marshal Hux was quite possibly one of the scariest, toughest sonsofbitches to ever walk the corridors of the Home of the Federation Star Marshals. Given his violent past it was no wonder......

Twenty years ago the World of Angosia III was wrapped in the bloody, world ravaging conflict known as the Tarsian Wars. Bin Hux was one of the idealic legions of soldiers that volunteered for the experimental procedure to transform them into the ultimate killing machines. With enhansed strength, reflexes, and a virtual invulnerability to sensors and small arms fire, the Angosians won their war but were faced with the quandry of how to absorb Battalions of tained killers back into normal society.

******You dont step on Superman's Cape.....********

It was only in 2366 when the revolt of a young soldier named Roga Danar brought the situation to the attention of the Federation of Planets, was treatment for the military conditioning found, and the soldiers rehabilitated........

All except for Bin Hux and a few others. He rejected the cure and leaving his homeworld petitioned for citizenship in the Federation. For the next twenty years the 6 foot 2 inch wall of muscle utilized his considerable strength , speed, and bad mood into pulling off some of the most impressive covert coups in Special Forces history. ( a few messily OVERT ops as well)

******You dont spit into the wind......*********

Now the Dominion War over....the Borg War was over.....the Romulan war was over, and Bin found himself a new proffesion......he was a Lawman......A Star Marshall.

A Marshal was unique individual in the Federation of Planets. Normally law enforcement was managed on a planetary scale with local govenments tasked with recruitment and training of police forces.

There was however, a particularly nasty brand of criminal and terrorist that transcended interstellar distances and politics, thus requiring a new breed of Lawmen to bring them to heel.

Thus was born the Marshals Corps.

Part police force.....part paramilitary organization.....part players in interstellar espionage.....the Marshals were unique in that wherever they went they ALWAYS had jurisdiction....they were ALWAYS in charge of the investigation......and they brooked no argument on how things were gonna be run.

An elite Corps of Interstellar toughguys.........and Marshal Hux was the baddest one of them all. He was faster, stronger, smarter, meaner

..........he was also naked and holding a plastic specimen cup.

******You dont pull the mask of ol' Lone Ranger and you dont..........*******

......You dont strip Marshal Bin Hux down to his skivvies and ask him to perform a random Drug screening.

The long line of hospital-gown clad bodies stretched around the corner of Corridor B, of the Marshal's primary Investigative Offices.

Obstensibly the creme d ' creme of The united Federations law enforcement arm, the Star Marshals it seemed were not immune to the crushing humiliations of bereaucractic regulations.

"Next......."

A disembodied voice crackling over the intercom system heralded the advancement of the long line of physically fit bodiesa few more inches towards the waiting med techs.

Halfway back, Chief Marshal Bin Hux heaved a disgrutled sigh and grit his heavy jaw in frustration. Well over two meters in height, possessing a muscular frame criss-crossed with scars, and a perpetual five o lcock shadow, Hux would nomally have been the most impressive specimen in the long line of agents

......however the tiny gowns with their opening in the back had a way of making even the scariest individual seem pathetic.

Hux didnt like not being the scariest person in the room.

Glancing down at the tiny female agent standing in line in front of him, he noted that her gown wasnt quite proper sized either.

.......then again.....

Turning to peer over his shoulder he considered the man behind him with a surly glare.

~~Dont even think of it~~ his scowl seemed to say.

"Next......."

Within the body of that elite orgaization, Bin Hux was a legend.

More arrests......

More convictions......

Higher body count than any other agent. (and higher property damage bill)

And now he had to pee in a cup.

"Next....."

The cute little bottom in front of him disapeared around the corner leaving Hux alone at the front of the line.

Leaning against the wall he ran his big hand over a heavy grizzled jaw.

On days like this he felt his age.

He'd been eighteen when he volunteered for the Tarsian War.....volunteered for the military conditioning that forever altered who he was. He was twenty two when his old comrade Roga Danar had siglehandedly torn the USS Enterprise-D almost to pieces.......that had been the begining of the end for the Lunar V colony for soldiers. Seventeen years ago.......three wars ago.......a lifetime ago...... ~~Crap am I really going to be forty in a few months?~~

He absentmindedly touched the blue and yellow tattoo near his left eye.....the symbol of his elite status in the Angosian military. The hair nearby was already touched with gray.

~~Crap~~

"Next........oh.....Marshal Hux."

A surprised looking tech paused as the big man darkened his office door. Since when did HE show up for physicals? Nervously motioning, he guided the Marshall into his office and bade him to sit on the edge of a small table.

In the past Hux had always managed to be off on assignment when annuals came around and thus it was a shock to actually see him in line with the rest off the pee-patrol.

The grim look on his face indicated the Lawman was as equally surprised to be here.........stupid scheduling changes.

"Whats with the damn paper gown?" Bin grated......"Cant you do a frazzing scan for whatever the hell you're looking for?"

"No.....ah.....ha ha," the tech tittered nervously, "S...sorry but as I'm sure you're aware, your unique.....ah.......origins make a sensor scan quite useless....I need....uh....I need you to actually pee in a cup for me."

Hux merely glared at the annoying little insect in the white labcoat. He was fully aware of his invisibility to sensor scans. A mixed blessing. It had allowed Roga Danar free access to the vulnerable vital organs of ENTERPRISE........but it made medical checkups a pain. If he had a latinum slip for everytime some snot nosed medic joked that he was dead because of his lack of lifesigns....

"Pee in a cup.......?" Hux repeated threateningly. It was probably the deadliest use of those words in a sentence ever.

"Uh.......yeah....see we cant scan you but your urine....."The tech gesture ineffectually. Suddenly this didnt sound like such a good idea. It was like asking Darth Vader for a sample.

Fortunately for the tech, Hux realized that reducing the medic to tiny shards of bone and red mush was not going to get him out of this any quicker........what he needed was some sort of interruption.........he needed and emergency.....he needed a SITUATION.

"Hux.....we got a situation here!"

The gruff spanish accented voice of Chief Melendez cut through the Marshal's thoughts bringing him back to reality. There were two figure in the doorway now. The first was the Chief himself....thirty year veteran of the Marshals with a reputation almost as tough as Hux's.

Behind the Chief stood Hux's partner, Marshal Daughtery. Long blond hair and a dancer's body concealed one of the most dangerous martial artists Hux had ever trained. What the fuck was she looking so amused about? Bin opened his mouth to chastise Daughtery for the look on her face.....not his fault he was stuck in a frakking dress.......but closed it again when he saw the grim look on his boss's face.

"Hux........Conmigo......." Melendez jerking his head out the door.

Shit........

"Yeah fucking conmigo." Bin repeated sliding off the table and wrapping his gown around him.

Alone in the hall with Hux and Daughtery, the Spaniard broke the news bluntly.

"He's out Bin.......the bastard broke out and is loose."

Marshal Hux blinked for a moment absorbing that news. ~~He broke out? ~~

He was Bin Hux of Angosia. Strength of ten men and with the tactical genius of George Patton. Meanest gawddamn mutherfucker in the galaxy.........

So why did his blood suddenly go so cold?

"All F*cked Up and Nowhere to Go"

Lieutenant JG Robert Mathieson, MD.

Vulcan
======

"Bullocks."

The elderly human had barely whispered the odd. alien word, but Sujaec's acute hearing had noted the event. It was the first thing – the only thing – the human had said since he arrived on Vulcan, having refused conversation, food, and even drink. Nutrients and fluids were forced into the man's system as he rested, otherwise he had remained standing overlooking the planet's deep red deserts and looking deeply into the world's distant, scarred horizon.

Sujaec rose from his meditation and made his way over to the human, whose skin now hung from the flesh of his arms, and whose eyes were tainted with unhealthy dark circles. It was an odd word, a noun referring to the gonads of Terran bovines, but it was still a word. Perhaps the human was at last ready to cooperate.

"Are you ready to proceed Doctor Mathieson?"

The human didn't flinch or react, other than to reply quietly in a gravely voice starved for water.

"Piss off."

"Really Doctor, that's hardly called for."

Mathieson took his bloodshot eyes array from the sight of Vulcan's most barren desert and looked at the young healer who sought to help him. "Really? Wot'ye do fer yerself last week then, eh? Contemplated the fekkin' universe? Read Surak's little black fekkin' book? Cured pon'farr?"

Thinking that this was at last Doctor Mathieson's attempt to release the katra locked within him, Sujaec engaged the conversation as eagerly as logic would permit. "It was a week reviewing the developments of my profession, surely something you do on a regular basis as a physician."

"Used to", the old man growled. "'Till last week. Got a new 'obby."

The Vulcan nodded, having dealt with many of Galaxy's crew who had gone though similar experiences. Andorians who now possessed the painting skills of Aeveth masters long forgotten, Bajorans who were thoroughly versed in pre-Surakian philosophies. "The experience may have brought useful insights to you, Doctor. What skill did you bring back with you? Art? Knowledge? Technical skill?"

"Death", Mathieson croaked with a sneer. "I killed people. Loads of 'em. This desert 'ere – wot'de call it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"The Fire Plains of Raal, a place of much destruction in our history. You know if it?" Sujaec asked politely.

"Know of it? I bloody-well made it, ye useless streak o' rat's piss." The Doctor's eyes went back to the ancient, shattered hills and valleys. "Used t'be a place called Kharath. Beautiful fields o' honey yellow. Red tiled roofs on buildin's washed white. Big city. Suburbs. Farmin' districts. Small industry. Good people. 'Least a couple 'o million, an' I killed 'em all - every man, woman, child. Ow's that fer skill, eh?"

Mathieson was a small human, one of the shortest on his ship's manifest, but the truth of his words made the stronger, younger Vulcan quail and retreat a few steps. "Whose katra did you bear, Robert Mathieson?"

The human turned and looked at the Vulcan before him, the dull crimson glow of the Fire Sea of Raal making a dark silhouette of his short, stocky frame. "Talvath Raal of the House of Raal, Heva'a of Kharath. Behold the glories of my House and Clan, and know fear, dha'rudh!" The words were in the human's parched, scratchy voice, but spoken in a perfectly fluent Ancient Vulcan under a lip arched with a patrician sneer.

Sujaec swallowed hard, and quelled the rising tide of anger, fear and disgust that rose within him. The figure before him was perhaps the least threatening member of Galaxy's crew, an experienced and renowned healer in his own right, and he bore the memories and life experience of a figure from Vulcan's past responsible for the deaths of tens of millions. The healer knew that the man before him was beyond his experience and skills to help, and with little ceremony he left to quickly find the Elder Healer, leaving Mathieson to turn once more and contemplate the broken lands of shattered glass and distant, painful memory.

~Return of Cutter Kara'nin, Part VI~
"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate"

"Power?"

"Green."

"Anti-grav?"

"Systems green."

"Cochrane generators?"

"All good."

"Extension control?"

"Ready.

"Sensors."

"We're all set."

"Computers?" Cutter asked, continuing down the check list. As he spoke, the door to the control room opened and Dr. Rudra Brahman and Dr. Virgil Maro entered. Immediately, the feathers near the base of his wings stood up. After his session with the psychiatrist earlier, Cutter held no positive feelings for Dr. Maro, and Cutter felt the man's presence here would only disrupt his work.

"Computers ready for recording."

"You're right on time, Rudra," Cutter said, addressing his colleague. Even though Maro stood right at the Indian's side, Cutter did not even cast him a glance. "We're about to initiate the countdown."

"I must admit, I'm quite excited," the scientist said slowly. The right side of his mouth crept up into a smile, but the rest of his body remained perfectly still.

"Yes," Cutter replied sarcastically, "You look as giddy as a child."

Dr. Virgil Maro, who by this point must have been aware of Rudra's condition, frowned. Rudra gave no reaction at all. "By all means, Cutter, begin the countdown."

Cutter nodded and turned to an engineer who sat at one of the many control stations in the room. "Energize anti-grav and initiate calibration."

The man nodded and turned his attention to the console.

"Cutter, perhaps you should explain to our guest what is going on," Rudra spoke.

Cutter looked back at Maro, and then to Rudra, casting the elder scientist a look of rebellious irritation. He did not care about this man, or what he thought. Cutter certainly didn't want to distract himself by figuring out how to turn his complicated research proposal into a layman's lecture. He hardened his glare and redirected it once more to the psychiatrist. Maro had an odd look on his face, one of sick curiosity, as if he really didn't want to hear Cutter's lecture, and yet, did.

"Very well," Cutter began. He walked to the center of the room and gestured down at what appeared to be a black tile floor. "This is the black hole."

"Beneath us?" Maro asked, stepping away from the ground window rather than towards it as any other tourist would have done.

"Yes, beneath us," Cutter said flatly. "As you know, we plan to pierce the event horizon and see inside. To do this, we are extending a mechanical sensor arm past the boundary. Normally, attempting this would result in the destruction of the arm by gravitational shear. Black holes are round, and the pull of gravity is always, always, straight down, perpendicular to the surface. Near the event horizon, the gravity is so strong, and the curvature is so tight, that any object with nonzero width suffers a dramatic torque function across its horizontal. The pull on the atoms on the side of any object is so strong, they shear off.

"We are preventing this with a complicated array of anti-grav emitters, which are warming up as we speak. Once their temperatures, and therefore, their output fields, normalize, we will begin extension. Relative to us, due to time dilation, this will take eight minutes. If you think of the event horizon as a hard shell, the sensor arm's anti-grav generators serve to cut a small hole in the shell and push this portion of the shell inwards, allowing us to see the underside of the surrounding horizon," Cutter explained.

"Why?" Maro asked quietly. He stood meekly, like a mouse. Cutter squinted at the man, and even Rudra turned his head, uncomprehending the reason for the question. To them, the answer was obvious. To them, the question seemed a likely prelude to an attack.

Cutter considered the man, and decided to ignore the obvious point of the question. "Because the Cochrane field generators and the anti-grav generators in the sensor arm reduce--"

"Why do you want to see the inside of the black hole?"

It was Rudra who responded. "Why do you not?"

Maro looked down at the small Indian scientist, clearly not expecting that obvious counter-question, or at least, not expecting it from him. There was a silence between the three men for a long moment before one of the many engineers and other scientists in the room interrupted, "Fields are balanced."

"Begin extension," Cutter said excitedly. Two years of work, all leading up to this moment. "Everyone monitor your stations. Call out activated correction algorithms as they arise."

Cutter glanced down through the floor window. To one side, the tip of the arm could be seen extending from the station, the field emitters crisscrossing its surface glowing hot. He smiled at the sight. Two years worth of work, two years of his life, and in another eight minutes, he would know. He would be the first. He would be the first living creature to ever peer past the event horizon and live to tell about it. After two years, in eight minutes, he would single handedly conquer another frontier of the universe.

After taking in a deep breath and releasing, Cutter moved over to the primary monitoring station.

"You're breathing rather heavily, Dr. Brahman," Dr. Maro said, noticing the Indian's loud breaths.

"I'm excited," he spat. Virgil looked down at the man with concern in his eyes. Rudra's right hand held a cane, which he leaned on heavily. It was shaking. Small, quick shivers.

"Computer initiating protocol nine," an engineer called out, "Increasing power to emitter five-five-seven."

"Passing the three minute mark," another called out.

"Integrity spiked down to ninety-six percent, but nominal again," Cutter announced, reporting on the effectiveness of the computer adjustment. There was a thundering in his skull. His pulse.

"Are you sure you're okay, Dr. Brahman?" Virgil asked, "Perhaps you should sit down."

"No. I said I'm--," Rudra began, but his voice cut off sharply and he froze for a moment. Then, his head jerked back and his body convulsed once. Then, he collapsed to the floor.

"Dr. Brahman!" Maro called out, dropping to the floor next to him, "Dr. Brahman!"

Cutter barely heard the commotion behind him, his mind so locked on the control board before him. The arm was experiencing a slightly stronger pull of gravity than predicted. That was odd. "Increase the gamma parameter," he called out, his voice directed at the group of engineers monitoring the arm's anti-grav generators.

"Dr. Karanin," Maro called out behind him, "Cutter! Something is wrong!"

"I'm not getting any more anomalous readings," the avian responded automatically, his attention clearly elsewhere.

"No! Dr. Brahman, he's collapsed! I think he's having a stroke," Maro shouted in the otherwise quiet room.

This finally caught Cutter's attention. He glanced behind him to see that Rudra had indeed collapsed. Virgil Maro was crouched down beside him. But, the glance was only that, a fleeting, momentary look. Immediately his attention returned to the main control panel. Along the way, his eyes noticed many of the engineers were staring back at their boss with worried eyes. "Stay at your posts," Cutter loudly ordered.

Most of the engineers looked at the large alien and then immediately turned back to their stations. "Dr. Karanin, did you hear me? I think he's having a stroke, he needs help!"

"Everyone on the station is here, and everyone has to stay at their stations," Cutter called out, to everyone in the room.

"What?! Stop the experiment! He needs medical attention!"

"The experiment cannot be stopped!" Cutter snapped, angry eyes flashing at the psychiatrist. "I'm sorry, but Rudra will have to wait another three minutes."

Maro glared at him, his brow deeply furrowed and his jaw agape with stunned anger. He stood and stepped towards Cutter, "Stop the experiment!" he repeated, commanding. It surprised Cutter somewhat. He did not expect this man to speak so aggressively.

"I cannot!" Cutter repeated harshly, his eyes boring into Maro, forgetting his own job. In an instant, he remembered and returned his gaze to the monitors.

"Damn it! This is insane! He's dying! Stop the experiment!" Maro screamed wildly, diving for the console. His hand mashed the keys, and immediately, he was struck by Cutter's wing. The powerful limb threw him across the room like he was a rag doll, and he crashed against the metal wall and slid to the floor.

"What did you do?!" Cutter shouted, then to the room, "What did he do?!"

"Fluctuation in the Cochrane field," an engineer called out urgently.

"Power surge in emitters three-ten through four-eighty," cried another.

"Integrity down to forty percent!"

"Antimatter channel four is ruptured and bleeding."

"The arm is still extending, penetration in eight, seven, six, five...."

The room fell silent as the last five seconds passed and the arm extended into the black hole. All eyes were on their monitors, all eyes were waiting for their first peek at the inside of the black hole. Even Maro had recovered enough from the brief confrontation to crawl forward to stare down the floor window.

"We have penetration."

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Part Fourteen: “Abducted”

Captain Darren M’Kantu – Captain of the USS Galaxy
Lieutenant Kimberly Burton – Chief Medical Officer
1st Lieutenant Branwen London – Furies Psychologist
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe – Chief Engineer
Ms Livana Ulani – FCO Internal Investigations Rep

***USS Galaxy, Conference Room 3***

“Middle of the night suddenly someone literally tears through the wall into my room, and before I’m even awake properly I’m hit with something that knocks me out cold. What happened next I can’t really say, but I wake up somewhere else, with that damn annoying prince stood there smiling like he’s just won the tri-world cup.” Starting to look angry now she turned to Dhani, “Lieutenant Eshe can explain what happened in our quarters while I was asleep, I was, otherwise detained.”

“It was about two… three AM,” Dhani said looking to Bran for confirmation.

"It was over by 2:48. I looked at my clock then. I was awake instantly, but by the time I got to her room, there was nothing we could do, she had been taken." Branwen still saw it as a failure on her part. She was the marine after all.

Nodding Dhani continued, “The noise awoke us both, not that we had been asleep for very long. There was a note that neither of us understood at that point in time. It simply stated….”

~*** The Holy City, New Rhea ***~

“Bride Raid, HHR?” Dhani questioned frowning. Handing the note to Branwen she took a look around the room. Nothing had been taken. The dress Kimberly had worn to the dinner was in a heap on the floor, her clothes scattered around the room, the dresser draws were open with yet more clothes hanging out of them, two shoes and a boot were lying by the bed, their companions somewhere underneath a set of dirty underwear in the other corner of the room – nothing unusual really judging by how she kept her personal quarters on the shuttle. It was difficult to tell if there had been a struggle or not, the only indication that anything was amiss was the rather large hole in the wall behind the master bed. The rubble and debris however did not look amiss in Kimberly’s assigned room!

Standing next to the bed she bent down as something caught her eye. Rolling her eyes she sighed as she picked up Kimberly’s com badge from the floor. “We have no way of tracking her either.” Dhani complained holding up the badge.

"Clever." Branwen sighed. "That prince did seem quite taken with her; I should have watched her more carefully."

Sitting on the bed Dhani sighed and rubbed her eyes. The bed was unmade, the sheets ruffled and still warm, she noted as she ran her hand across them. Folding her arms she looked to Bran for suggestions.

"We have to do something, and probably fast. I talked to one of the priests tonight; he's a very kind man. Maybe he can help us." She started to get dressed again.

Dhani rolled her eyes ~Oh goodie, a priest!~ she thought scathingly, ~wonder if he hates aliens as much as the others did.~ Being made to leave the dinner because she was not human still stung. Nodding to Bran she got up and returned to her room, needs must. Kimberly was missing, and no matter what they thought of her, or how she felt about them her best friends life hung in the balance. As that thought went through her mind she was spurred to get dressed faster, anger rising as she thought about what had happened since they had arrived. Joining Bran in the main room once again she nodded to her, a steely resolve set into her features.

Branwen in the meantime was trying to get through to Cardinal Pious. As far she was concerned he was their only chance.

"…Yes, I do realize what time it is, and I apologies but this is an emergency. I do need to speak to the Cardinal right now…" She kept insisting.

“Any luck?” Dhani whispered over her shoulder joining her at the computer terminal as the Cardinal appeared on the screen.

He wiped the sleep from his eyes and pulled his robe around himself as he sat down. His annoyed expression lifted when he saw Branwen. “Miss London.” he said formally inclining his head, “What can I do for you at this late hour?” he asked, though there was no hint of annoyance in his voice, just a tiredness that was lifted by the sight of her face. He had enjoyed her company and thought highly of the young woman.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, father, but you are the only one I can turn to four help. It's my friend, Kimberly Burton. We are afraid she has been abducted, and we have no idea how to get her back. Can you help us father, please."

“Abducted?” the elderly man questioned concern etching into his features.

***USS Galaxy, Conference Room 3***

"So you contacted the local authorities right from the start when you realised Lieutenant Burton had been abducted?" still making notes and not looking at the trio of Lieutenants still stood before her and the Captain, Livana tapped away as she spoke, “What was their response?”

Dhanishta looked at Kimberly for a moment and cast her a reassuring smile. She knew that Kimberly still blamed herself for this disastrous first contact and tried to outline the details with as much tact as possible to not only outline to the Captain and Ms ‘Bitchy’ that Kimberly was far from at fault, but to the Lieutenant herself. There was no way of predicating what happened and while there were possibly many ways that they could have resolved the situation and depart on good terms hind site was, as always, a virtue not accessible during the times it was most needed.

“Cardinal Pious came straight to our room. He explained to us that the note that had been left simply saying ‘Bride Raid’ is an old custom that’s still legal in their society, though seldom practised. A Noble of one of the ruling houses’ has the right to take a woman from her home with the view to marry her. Her consent is not often a requisite. If he can join with her before she’s rescued by her family; it’s perfectly legal and binding.” Dhanishta had a brief moment of dissociation as she detailed her account, as she was talking the reality of what could have happened slowly sunk into her. The word ‘binding’ had a finality to it that she didn’t like, the fact that her best friend was still standing next to her was a testament to Dhanis quick thinking and Branwens gall.

Dhani stalled on skipping ahead to the finale, which was what bothered her most, and continued to explain everything step by step. “The Cardinal spoke to several dignitaries to confirm our options. As Burton had no immediate family on New Rhea, London and I were allowed, according to local law, to act as her family. This meant that we were allowed to stage a rescue attempt and the Cardinal agreed to help us. We did speak to the Pope himself, yet he was more amused at the notion that we would wish to rescue the Lieutenant from his son; however he was quite happy for us to try. The stipulation of the ‘BRR’, Bride Raid Rescue, is simply ‘no bloodshed’.”

“As no blood was shed when I was kidnapped it’s not considered ‘polite’ to hurt people during a rescue.” Kimberly added solemnly.

“Considering the non-lethal capabilities of standard issue side arms, that shouldn’t have proven a problem really.” M’kantu observed quietly. Noticing the distinct look of embarrassment that passed over Kimberly’s face he questioned her with his gaze.

Dhani smiled factiously and pursed her lips, nodding in agreement with the Captain she turned to her friend, “Kimberly…?” she gestured for her to explain ‘that’ part.

“Umm, well,” Kimberly hesitated before replying and then plunged in, knowing full well that if she let Dhani explain they’d not only be here all day, but most likely tomorrow as well. She had made her feelings clear about the armament level of the KittyKat all the way home. “The only problem there really is that my shuttle isn’t armed. Nor are there any side arms aboard.”

At the surprised looks on Ulani and M’Kantus faces she shrugged, “It’s a personal vessel,” she explained, “not a fleet support vessel, I’ve never had the need for weapons aboard. It’s something that Lieutenant Eshe has noted and made clear needs addressing.” Looking at her friend she saw the look of disapproval that had followed her home from New Rhea, this was something Dhani wasn’t going to let her forget anytime soon she realised.

“Anyway, while the Lieutenants made enquiries and tried to locate me, it was probably about that time I woke up, and things ‘sort’ of went a little downhill at that point,” she said with a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Define, downhill?” Ulani asked, concern evident in her voice.

Dhani stifled a chuckle at that statement and the question following it. Kimberly had a way of putting a good spin on everything, or at least trying to. The fact that her ship was unarmed, contained no crash packs whatsoever and, apart from the local weapons London had picked up from the market their first day, the three of them were totally unarmed and helpless had raised only an eyebrow of their commanding officer instead of a humongous bitch-slap. Though in retrospect they weren’t finished with the narrative, and the best was yet to come…

TBC…

"Roga"
Manslaughter Part III

Marshal Hux didnt bother asking how HE had managed to get away. Details like that didnt matter now that the murdering little sonofabitch was out.Crap.......Damn Federation and their lack of a death penalty. If there was anybody in the Universe that needed some killing it was HIM.

"I'll need his last know location, list of ships in the area and cargo manifests," he was spouting off orders as he stomped down the corridor, his long legged stride eating up the distance. "Flight plans...local Police reports....you know the damn drill Mel."

Behind him Marshal Melissa Daughtery quickened her pace to keep up with her big partner. "Right, already in the works, and we're also working on a download of the security camera recordings......"

"Fuck the Cameras Mel," Hux spat. "They aint gonna do shit on this bastard. He's about as sneaky as damn Denebian Fox-Cat, and twice as nasty."

"Right, nix the cameras." Melissa bobbed her head, blond ponytail dancing, "Ship's being prepped right now and the Chief will meet us in Docking Bay 12. We'll have.....ah....your uniform and all that aboard."

The female agent stole a glance down at her partner's hospital-gown covered derriere. It wasnt often she got a good look at him, and while she didnt quite swing that way......he was in reeeeal good shape after all.

Absorbed in his own grumpy thoughts, Hux kept quiet until they reached the expansive shuttle bay on the Roof of the Star Law headquarters.

Chief Melendez was there to meet them, a thin cigarette hunging from his lip. "Data chips are on board already." he jerked his head over his shoulder at the hissing grey hull of Marshal Hux's WarpShip. "Nav unit's programmed but......" he paused taking a doubtful drag, "Do you really think this little detour is necessary? Intel puts that bastard on Vulcan not 10 hours ago and....."

"I'm not getting to fucking Vulcan in 10 hours." Bin interrupted, thankfully taking the long black trenchcoat that the Chief offered. Stripping off his gown much to the amusement of his female partner, Hux stabbed his well muscled arms into the leather sleeves and drew the collar up.

Beside him Mel handed over the massive .88 Magnum revolver that the Marshal was so fond of. It made BIG holes in people.

"I need some more data on this asshole if I'm gonna catch him again." Bin was saying as he clipped the weapon on. "Last time was a damn fluke and you know it Chief." Hux grit his heavy jaw.....he didnt like admitting deficiencies but.........but with this guy it was different. "I need to go back to the source........back to Angosia."

**********

A tall grey-haired man strode through the wide corridors of the primary Goverment building.

"Good morning Minister."

"Good morning Villo, how are the children?"

"Doing better sir, thank you for asking."

Doors hissed open allowing access to the outer office.

"Good Morning Mr. Minister."

"Morning Rayna."

"The evening messages are on your desk sir."

"Thank you Rayna, oh and please hold my calls for at least an hour.....I'm expecting visitors this morning."

"Very good sir.....somebody not on the schedule?"

"Right.....old friends of sorts. Lets leave it as that."

"Right sir. I'll be here if you need anything."

The intricate faux-wooden doors of the inner office swung open with a soft hiss revealing the spacious private sanctum of the Defence Minister of Angosia III. Elected head over the rehabilitation programs for Veterans Affairs.

They closed again behind him leaving Roga Danar alone with his thoughts.

Breathing a deep sigh of frustration he settled himself into the plush leather chair behind the desk, ignoring the stack of messages before him.

~~Damn....getting old Danar.~~ he grumped, feeling the twinges of old injuries deep in his spine. ~~This didnt used to bother you.~~

True......but Roga Danar wasnt the young warrior who once singlehandedly tore apart the USS Enterprise-D taking half her crew along with it anymore.

~~~Those were the days.......before the cure.....before grey hair and arthritis.~~~ he smiled in spite of himself. Not that he would trade one day of his life to go back to the way he was.

A killer with a hair-trigger temper, unwelcome and outcast from Angosian society. Before Enterprise he was imprisoned with his warrior brothers on the Lunar V colony for the crime of being heros.

Now twenty years later he was a politician, and free of his military conditioning. A treatment had been found. A treatment thanks to the Enterprise and the Federation.

He smiled a the memory long ago of how Picard had left the previous Prime Minister Nayrok trembling under the barrel of Danar's rifle. "You're prisoner has been returned to you." Picard had quipped dryly.

"Those were the days...." he said aloud into he empty room. "Were'nt they old friend?"

"Yes they were Colonel." Moving like a shadow, Marshal Hux stepped out from his hiding spot, black trench coat rustleing softly at his booted ankles. "You didnt have some much grey hair back then."

"Been awhile......some Angosian brandy perhaps? " he motioned so a small decanter sitting atop his desk. "I had it delivered this morning because I remeber how it was your favorite."

Bin almost smiled.....almost. "You were expecting me." It wasnt a question. "What do you have....people following me or something?"

"Trying to anyways." the Minister poured himself a little snifter, "Truth is you're not exactly as sneaky as you think you are old friend. I just have people looking for torn apart rooms, and people with large holes blown in them."

Roga Danar stood to greet his old comrade in arms, his expression both welcoming and sad at the same time. "Welcome home Bin." he took the Marshal's massive hand in his own "You're looking.......fit." he smiled. What else would a man like Hux be. "What has it been....twenty years?"

"Seventeen." The Marshal studied his old commander carefully, looking for any sign of the warrior that he once knew in the middle aged man before him. "You're getting fat too sir."

Danar laughed inspite of himself. "Old....Bin. Im getting old. You should try it sometime." he paused becoming serious. "Really.....we can still treat the conditioning......technology has advanced since our first efforts and....."

"Not what I'm here for sir." Hux interrupted. He was what he was. Going back was not an option. "He's escaped."

Danar's good mood faded instantly. "Shit...."

"Exactly." Hux nodded. "Tore apart a securuty team on Vulcan, and disapeared into the crowd. Six dead, two crippled for life. You remember how he likes to cripple......"

"I remember Major." Roga Danar reverted back to his old military persona for a moment, his brow furrowed deep in thought. "You're here for his files then of course."

"Yes sir......I know they're highly classified but....."

"But nothing." The Prime Minister was already tapping his access codes into the desktop computer. "Nothing is classified with that fucker on the loose."

In spite of himself, a bemused smile crossed Marshal Hux's face. "Why Colonel.......you still know how to swear. I thought you got cured of all your nasty habits."

Roga Danar grimaced. "He's loose on Vulcan Hux. He can go anywhere.....do anything....kill anybody. I dont have time to be genteel." he paused "And neither old friend do you."

Hux merely stood there......expression unreadable.

"I wish you luck Bin.......bring him back.......he's our brother."

"He's our brother true......what do you reccommend I do when I find him?"

Roga Danar, ex-soldier turned ruler of Angosia studied his hands. He was cured....there wasnt a violent bone left in his body. "Kill him."

~Return of Cutter Kara'nin, Part VII~
"Wrath"

Dr. Virgil Maro moaned silently as he tried to suppress the ring in his skull. He raised his hand to his head, rubbing the spot that had collided with control room wall. He looked up at Cutter, who was standing over his central console, working franticly at their controls. Those wings had thrown him across the room like he weighed nothing.

"The arm is still extending, penetration in eight, seven, six, five...."

Maro glanced at the engineer that was counting down. He had tried to stop this blasphemous experiment, this attempt to go where God had forbidden them to go, but he had failed. Dr. Rudra Brahman was still laying on the floor, alone. His body was still, now, left to die unattended. He looked at Cutter again. His nightshade hair looked more menacing, his wings a mockery to the pure beings they imitated. Maro could see the serpent wrapped around the alien's heart, lapping at the bile.

"...four, three, two, one..."

The serpent looked at him then, suddenly, smiling triumphantly. Maro could hear the sinister laughter, compelling him to move, compelling him to watch the heresy in action. Slowly, as if hypnotized, he crawled forward to the large window in the center of the floor and looked down through the portal, down the length of the station's sensor arm, down into the singularity. Down into Hell.

"We have penetration."

Field emitters all along the arm lit, radiating a bright florescent orange, like the tips of flame. It took an instant, but if felt like time had slowed to a stand still. The arm extended the final millimeters past the event horizon, breaking through the gates.

And then the universe exploded.

Light, so much light, as much light as the core of a super nova, a hundred times the intensity of a whole galaxy, seemed to explode from the black hole. Maro was thrown back by the force, thrown back by the rush of photons, protected only by God's grace.

"Shields are holding!"

"I'm reading a massive amount of gamma radiation."

"That's expected, monitor the shields. Arm integration?"

"I'm showing massive fluctuations."

All around him, the scientists and engineers were panicking, shouting orders and status reports. Maro looked, but he could not see. The world had whited out. Slowly, he crawled forward once more. If these scientists had unleashed the armageddon, Virgil Maro would defiantly stare Satan in the face until the end.

He looked down into the light again. And, he saw a face, but it wasn't Satan; he knew, deep in the very core of his being that it wasn't Satan. He saw a face, great and terrible. Terribly angry. It looked at him, directly into his soul, and Maro suddenly felt a wash of emotions. Every emotion and every memory he had ever experienced seemed to flow though him like electric fire, and he felt sad and ashamed of his life. The face looked at him and said, "The end of all flesh is come before me. The world is filled with evil through them, and behold, I will destroy them with the world."

And then it stopped.

All of it, the light, the voice, the face - it all disappeared. There was nothing but blackness.

"What happened?" Cutter cried. "Did we lose the arm?"

"No," an engineer reported from his station. "Arm integrity reading at 37%. Tip of the arm is still within the event horizon."

"Pipe me the numbers," Cutter ordered, and bent lower over his console. He remained that way for several minutes.

Maro was staring into the black hole, frozen like stone. As still as Rudra's dead body. Eventually, he woke from his trance and he rose to his feet and moved over to check on Dr. Rudra Brahman, bending down to place his fingers against the Indian's carotid artery. Cutter jerked up suddenly and turned. "Ka'is, Rudra..." he said, having, only now, just remembered his colleague's fatal stroke.

"He's dead," Maro spat at the avian.

Cutter's face tightened up, showing no emotion. He nodded once and looked over at two of the engineers in the room. "Milton, Dante," he said, and the two men turned and nodded, and promptly left the room. In moments, they returned with a stretcher and walked over to Dr. Brahman's body. Maro helped them move it onto the device and then they left with the corpse.

"You should have stopped the experiment," Maro said, stepping up behind the avian.

"You shouldn't have interfered. Do you know what you may have done?"

"This was wrong. You shouldn't have been doing this in the first place, and when Dr. Brahman had a stroke, you should have--"

"Shut up," Cutter commanded. He grabbed the psychiatrist's arm and dragged him across the room to the floor window. "Look!"

Maro glared at the false angel indignantly before finally glancing down at the black hole once more. Where, moments ago, there was infinite blackness, Maro could see, at the bottom of the sensor arm, a mass of blue. A rippling blue bubble, that looked like it was made of the purest seawater he had ever seen.

"There was a power surge in the Cochrane field emitters. They created an anomalous field configuration puncturing subspace, creating a conifold transition net. The energy trapped by the black hole is now feeding into this 'bubble,' attempting to expand various portions of the dimensional space. For the moment, this expansion is constricted, but if it randomly stumbles on the right combination of dimensions, the net will break and the expansion will grow uncontrollably," Cutter snarled through clenched teeth. "Do you know what that means?"

"No," Maro silently replied.

The avian spat a short, arrogant laugh. "Of course you don't. The conifold transition will expand out over our universe, rewriting it with a new one. Everything in this universe will be destroyed. Now, you will leave me alone while I try to fix it!"

Cutter left then, stomping away, leaving Maro alone over the black hole. He looked down at the shimmering blue ripples, bubbling like water. He fell to his knees, his eyes transfixed, and he silently spoke from memory, "And, behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven.

"And everything that is in the earth, shall die."

"Restringing her life."

USS GALAXY

Allison's guitar was screaming..........

It was a cry that echoed the buring in her heart....... A wail that mirrored the tears streaming down her glitter speckled cheeks.

Aluminum coated fake nails stabbed and plucked at vibrating steel strings, eliciting bone shattering rythms that were a mix between an angels lament and a banshee's vengeful cry.

The tune was original....a weird amalgamation of Steve Vai and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart which combined the stirring power riffs of the former with the precise, mathematically complete fingerings of the latter.

What did you expect when you were a classically trained guitarist with rock and roll buring in your soul?

The empty conference room was only partially soundproofed, so that those wandering the passageways outside were momentarily halted by the muffled wailing from beyond the locked doors.

For a 24th century soul raised on more 'cultured' musical styles, Allison's music was at once enigmatic and repulsive at the same time.

It was noise.....and yet it was strangely rythmatic and pure.....a perfect emotional conduit between the listener and the frustration that beat in her heart.

Scream baby scream! Her fingers flew across the strings stretching them to their limits culminating in a soulful high pitched wail that ended abrubtly with a....

....TWAAANNNNGGG!!!!!

With a razor sharp flash of metal, the tiny E string snapped under the pressure curling up onto itself and delivering a wicked little cut across Allison's hand.

The music stopped in mid note, and alone in the sudden silence young Allison stood sucking on the tiny wound.

~~Damn.~~ she swore uncharacteristically. Her mother taughter her once that cursing was the final argument of a inferior wit, but at the moment she could think of nothing else more appropriate.

~~What the heck happened to all my plans.~~ she fumed, unstrapping the sparkling guitar and laying it gingerly on a nearby conference table.

She was practicing because there was supposed to be some sort of musical amateur night aboard the Galaxy in the next few days, and while normally Alli reveled in any oppurtunity to display her considerable talents......her only talent really......at the moment her mind was 1000 light years away.

"Guitar string, steel wrap, E chord." she commanded a nearby replicator, and tapped her aluminum fingernails nervously while the machine delivered her order in a glow of blue light.

Strictly speaking replicated strings were inferior, but her own stock of replacements was sadly depleted due to some recent rather violent practice sessions.

Of course there was one other person on board that might have a few extra strings of the required quality......one other person who shared a demonic love for the art of rock and roll......whose heart beat in time with the rhythm of a violent guitar riff.

But she was gonna be damned if she ever asked James Corgan for anything in life ever again.

~~The big jerk~~ she sniffed sadly.

Laying the neck of the guitar across her skinny white legs, Alli untangled the damaged string from the tuning peg, and inserted the fresh replacement.

Life aboard the USS Galaxy was anything but what she expected. A life of adventure and excitement had given way to tedium and heartache.

~~~James Corgan, James Corgan, James Corgan...~~~ she sighed giving the peg a halfhearted twist.

~~~Allison Corgan, Allison Corgan, Allison Corgan.......~~~ the fantasy name played acorss her thoughts at once exciting her and repelling her at the same time.

~~~Meeka Freaking Corgan.~~~ she spat mentally, giving name to the crux of the problem. The Galaxy's moody Security Chief was more interested in a blue skinned Andorian antenna girl, than in the well being of poor little Allison Jimsdottir.

Angrily, Allison plucked at the new string, twisting the peg to bring the tension to the required pitch........the soft plink plink plink was the only sound in the darkened conference room.

She was leaving.....she decided.

That was all there was to it. Her mother had warned her about Starfleet, and she was absolutely right. The next time Galaxy put into port, Allison was gonna jump ship and make her way home.....defeated....but perhaps a little bit wiser.

~~~The big jerk.~~~

All she had to do was get her confiscated pink planner back, or she wasnt going anywhere........

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Part Fifteen: “Whaddyameanmarried??!!!!”

Captain Darren M’Kantu – Captain of the USS Galaxy
Lieutenant Kimberly Burton – Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe – Chief Engineer
1st Lieutenant Branwen London – Furies Psychologist

***USS Galaxy, Conference Room 3***

Dhani stifled a chuckle at that statement and the question following it. Kimberly had a way of putting a good spin on everything, or at least trying to. The fact that her ship was unarmed, contained no crash packs whatsoever and, apart from the local weapons London had picked up from the market their first day, the three of them were totally unarmed and helpless had raised only an eyebrow of their commanding officer instead of a humongous bitch-slap. Though in retrospect they weren’t finished with the narrative, and the best was yet to come…

* * * Somewhere on New Rhea * * *

Waking up after being stunned was something that Kimberly never enjoyed; there was always this nagging pressure at the back of her skull that was the first thing she became aware of. Laying on something soft she slowly became aware of sounds around her. Keeping her eyes closed at first she listened carefully for anything that could give her some clue as to what was going on. As she slowly woke up she heard a whispered conversation nearby, listening carefully she slowly began to pick up words.

“But your highness, she is not of this world!” one voice muttered, concern evident.

“She is Human, the med-priests have confirmed her DNA is not tainted.” Replied a voice she had become familiar with over dinner.

“Still Highness, your Father, his Holiness will require certain… assurances before I can proceed with the ceremony.” The first voice said, a little louder and firmer.

“Of course, but I do not foresee any insurmountable issues.” The prince replied, perhaps a little smugly.

~ What the feth is going on here? ~ Kimberly wondered, ~ Ceremony? What the…? ~ Deciding that whatever was going on here wasn’t going to be solved by keeping her eyes closed she opened them slightly and took in a limited view of the room she was in. She seemed to be on a rather large, and comfortable bed, still in her night clothes she realised finally. The room from her point of view was decorated even more opulently than the quarters she had been assigned when that had landed.

The one thing that caught her eye though immediately on opening her eyes was the magnificent white gown that was arrayed on the bed beside her. ~ What in the…! ~

“Ah, you are awake Kimberly, excellent,” the vice of the Prince boomed as he moved into view.

Sitting up and looking very angry and confused Kimberly looked around, “Yes, awake, angry and wondering just what in the Hezmana is going on!” she snapped as she slid down the end of the bed and looked up into his face as she stood. Ignoring for now the other figure in the room she took in a deep breath, firmly intent on giving this jumped up Noble the full benefit of her extensive obscenity vocabulary.

“What is going on Kimberly is that we are about to get married,” Prince Peter said with a cheery smile on his face, utterly oblivious to the look of confusion on her face.

That shut Kimberly up.

For a second it seemed time had frozen, all Kimberly could recall was the happy smiley look on Peters face, as it that were the most normal thing to say in the universe. Everything else he said was blotted out in a hazy humm that filled her ears, all she could recall was ~ MARRIED!!! ~

Struggling to regain control of her vocal cords Kimberly opened her mouth once or twice but words failed to emerge. Peter stood there as if he had just said the most natural thing in the world. He looked down, obviously awaiting some reply. When none was forthcoming in a reasonable amount of time his smile faded, “Is something wrong dear Kimberly?” he asked.

“Married!” she got out in a choked whisper, “Whaddya mean ‘Married’ you overgrown backbirth SMURF!!!”

Looking confused at the unfamiliar words that the UT had failed to correctly translate Peter thought for a moment then shrugged, deciding they weren’t worth worrying about, “Yes, that is correct, Married. By our laws a Noble of any house may choose a bride, and if he can remove her from her family and marry her before she is rescued, she remains his. It is an old custom, rarely practiced nowadays, but still law. You should be honoured, my family is the ruling house of this world, you will become a Princess of this world and live a life of luxury.” As if the matter were settled now he had explained Peter turned to the third person in the room and smiled, “If you would summon a maid then Kimberly can dress for the ceremony.” he said as if it were all settled.

“Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!!!” Kimberly said, her voice rising with each word, waving her arms to get the attention of both men as her mouth caught up with her brain. “NO!” she snapped, finally managing to get the word out.

Looking at Kimberly as if she were mad the third person shook his head, “You do not understand I fear young lady, his Highness had captured you in a bride raid, your consent is unnecessary. Besides, the honour a Royal Prince does you by choosing you as part of his harem is beyond measure.”

“Hare…” Kimberly stared, the word fading in her throat. ~ This just goes from bad to worse! ~ she thought in disbelief. Her mind still dizzy with the speed things were happening she thought for some, any way to get out of this. Ok, she said, the rooms were nice and some R’n’R here would be nice, but a lifetimes worth! ~ Oh Frell! ~ Looking around she checked for a handy window to jump out of, then realised that was not an option. The mere fact the clouds were ‘below’ the window made the possible fall outside the window a little beyond her gymnastic capabilities.

“Before we begin,” the third person said, turning to face Kimberly, “I am Father Aelric, I am the Princes’ household priest. Might I ask when you were baptised?” he asked.

“Huh, wha? Baptised?” she muttered in reply, still confused and still looking around for a back door, her mind considering several possibilities that might get her out of this.

“Yes Miss Burton, baptised, and when was your confirmation?” he asked, sounding as if he were reading a checklist.

“Never done neither,” she admitted, a thought coming to her mind, “I’m not a Christian.” She admitted, looking at the two of them, “and before you ask, I don’t plan to become one either!” she ended defiantly.

A look of disappointment on his face Peter turned to Aelric but Aelric was already talking again to Kimberly. “Then may I ask what you do believe in?” he asked, “You do believe in the everlasting love of god and his son Jesus?” he asked as if it were a given fact.

Shaking her head in disbelief Kimberly waked over to the window and admired the view, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm herself, ~ This is, without a doubt ‘Frelling’ insane! ~ “No Sir, I do not believe in your god,” she said simply, “I believe in the god and goddess, and the elements that surround us. I’m a Pagan.” She declared simply. When no reply was forthcoming she turned and saw their confused looks, “You know… A Witch” she explained as if talking to two very stupid people. ~ Pair of smegheads! ~ she muttered to herself.

Looking between the almost stunned expression on Peters face and the scandalised look on the priests face Kimberly tried to restrain a smile from breaking out; they both looked as if she had just ripped off a full body disguise and revealed herself to be the Klingon Chancellor wearing a fluffy pink tutu.

“A… Witch…” Peter said hesitantly, looking as though he’d just been slapped with a starship.

Turning to the Prince Aelric raised his hand imperiously, “Your Highness, I regret to inform you that without express consent from his Holiness, this marriage cannot proceed,” he declared, “and I seriously doubt it would be given even if you dared ask. For one from the most Noblest house to consider a union with one such as this would be tantamount to heresy.”

Nodding in agreement Kimberly relaxed and sighed, ~ Thank you! ~ she prayed silently as she walked slowly to the door. “This mean I can go now then?” she enquired.

“Leave?!” Aelric declared as he pulled something from a pocket in his robes, “Stay Witch!” he barked, pointing to a spot near the window.

Turning to Kimberly as Aelric started muttering into the object in his hand Peter looked at her urgently and leant down so he could speak softly, “Please,” he implored desperately, “tell the good father you were saying that to prevent the marriage, and that you will consent to marry me.”

Shaking her head Kimberly looked him in the eye, “Your Highness, you’re nice, but you’re only seventeen. You’ve just met me and I’m not even from this world! Where I come from this isn’t how we do things, now, I’m more than happy to follow local customs and traditions, but there comes a point where I have to say no. What I said was the truth and if you guys don’t like it then I’ll quite happily leave now,” getting ready to launch into a full blown debate over this she was rudely interrupted by the sound of a high pitched and bright transporter beam that formed within the room.

Three distinct shapes took form, two of the massively armoured knights, and a tall figure clad in deep charcoal grey robes from head to toe, and a hood so deep it completely obscured the figures face.

“Quickly,” Peter hissed, “tell me what you just said was not true, for your own safety.”

Opening her mouth to ask just what the frell was going on she was interrupted by a deep resonant voice from beneath the hood.

“Silence!” was all he uttered in a tone that brooked no argument. Walking over to the priest who dropped to his knees before the robed figure a quiet and swift conversation ensued.

Opening her mouth to ask the question that she had just been going to ask Peter ‘shushed’ her so violently that the two knights lifted heavy assault rifles up and pointed them in her general direction. Falling silent she watched in confusion as the conversation became quieter and quieter, then for several moments all she could see was the priest mouthing words, but no sound emerged from his lips.

After the priest finally stopped mouthing words he suddenly got up, bowed and left without a sound. Turning to the prince the figure spoke in his deep resonant voice, “Leave us your Highness, the Witch is now my responsibility.”

Without a sound or a look at Kimberly Peter turned and left, leaving her alone with the robed figure and his two massive sidekicks.

“Witch, you are now under the authority of the Holy Inquisition, submit and pray for the mercy of the almighty.” Turning to the two armoured knights he raised a hand, “Apprehend the witch!”

TBC…

"The Taming of The Shrew" Part 1

Lt Jebidiah Baile
CO 1st Platoon
USS Galaxy

&

Lt. (j.g.) Faylin McAlister
JAG - Liaison Corp
USS Galaxy

Ten Forward
------------------------

Meeting him yet again, she sinisterly shot him a smile across the table. It was a simple expression, yet when combined with her eyes....it was an expression that was deadly.

Baile didn't return the smile. He sat still, looking her straight into the eyes. She was dangerous. That was the easy part. Even very dangerous. His instinct was to strike out, end it right there and that instinct had rarely taken him for a ride even before someone stole his eyes. "Don't try and hide behind sly remarks and witty comments. If you ever try and play hardball with me again you will have to step up and see just how far away Kansas really is. Is that understood?"

Her smile faded, replaced by the thin line that formed her mouth. It finally hit her that he wasn't like the others. He didn't accept her comments, threw them back in her face, and leveled himself against her with just a look. "Don't tempt me .....because I'm really interested to see just how far Kansas is from our present location in space." Fay responded with an animistic type snarl.

Glancing down at her arm for a mere second, she noticed the slight changing of her skin from soft to translucent scales. Closing her eyes and taking a long deep exhale through her nose, Faylin reached over with her index finger on her left hand, running it up the length of her arm. Inwardly, she noticed that her skin had become soft again.

Had Fate been given a less warped sense of humor many things could have changed there. But he didn't have the sidearm he normally carried so he didn't simply shoot her in the head to demonstrate cause end effect of what he had just said. And since he didn't do it he wasn't arrested and since he wasn't arrested no one would find out what he was until it would be far too late.

Instead he sat still, seeing her eyes dart from his to her arm and then close. To close the eyes in front of Baile like that was to give him a lifetime of options on how to kill her. And yet he didn't. Maybe it was the tiny fleck of humanity that remained that stopped him. Maybe he was just being lazy. It didn't matter. Maybe he could have killed her. Maybe she would have painted the floor and walls red with his blood. That didn't matter either. There was no reason to dwell on what didn't happen. What did happen was different all together. He put his glass down and watched her for another second before slipping the goggles over his eyes again. He stood up in one fluid motion. "Get up."

Taking but a mere nanosecond of time, she stood, her hands rested across her chest, her eyes narrowed, her mind focused. She knew he really missed his weapon at this point in time, yet....he knew several methods of ending a person's existence. So, the weapon really didn't matter in the 'big picture'. Arching her one eyebrow in a Vulcan type manner, she stood, silent...yet also with a deadly expression.

"Follow me." he told her and turned around and walked out of Ten Forward.

Doing what she was told, she relaxed her body, yet not her mind.

They walked for several minutes in silence, turning left, turning right, going up through the ship the entire time. The silence between them kept them company. It waited to see if there would be an eruption of death and violence in the halls of the Galaxy but it waited in vain. The door in front of him opened silently and he stepped inside a one of the observation rooms with viewports showing the universe outside.

"I take it...your going to show me where Kansas is?" She spoke before stopping.

"Not today." he replied. The lights had been dimmed and he removed the goggles. The room lit up from the colors outside, colors invisible to the human eye. To many eyes. "You wanted to know."

Fay stood in silence, just observing her surroundings and Baile. "What are you?" She asked in a quiet tone.

He watched the chaotic dance of light outside. Patterns in chaos. Chaos in patterns. Which was it? "I don't know." he finally replied. That was the truth.

"I........" She paused, turning from him to the lights. Questions assaulted her mind, her essence wanted her to ask them, yet she did not. "I don't know what to say....I mean...do you want to figure it out? What you are?"

"Did you know that these.. " he motioned with his hands towards his eyes. "comes from a feline predator that can only survive in darkness?" he said to her, not sure he wanted to ask himself the same question right now that she had asked him.

"No...I did not." She stated softly approaching him with a slowness. "Did you know.....that I'm shifty?" Attempting to be gentle was not one of McAlister's gifts.

He shook his head. "No.. I might have guessed it eventually." His eyes reflected the faint starlight that was visible to human eyes. "Did you know the species was eradicated nearly two thousand years ago?"

She knitted her eyebrows, becoming more fascinated by the passing of each second. "No.....I didn't know that." Forrester paused. "Did you know that I'm here if you want to talk about it? Anytime......"

He didn't make any indication that he had heard her, but they both knew he had. "How do I know that? I don't know... " his voice wasn't more than a rough whisper. "I've seen things in the darkness that no one else can see. The gods cursed that cat. Forced it to live in eternal darkness. Makes you wonder what that cat saw, doesn't it? What could have wiped out a near perfect predator?"

"I know what the cat saw...." Her voice lowered as her eyes bore into his with intensity. "I was the prey of that cat, forced to change to survive it's attacks. I wiped out that cat...by becoming that cat."

He said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. "You may look like me. You may walk like me. Talk like me. But you will never be me.... "

"I didn't say I wanted to be you....I become you...to survive who you are." She whispered.

"You don't understand, do you?" he turned to face her. The memories in his mind raced past him, a kaleidoscope of chaos. "I am me.. everything else is just a weak copy. Same for everything else. You can make yourself look like me, but you will never feel burn from my eyes. You will never see the world like I see it. You will never know what is in here.. " he tapped his forehead gently, as gently as he spoke.

An ever so slight curve approached her mouth, tilting the lines upwards. "Give me permission...and I'll know Baile."'

He simply stood silent, just looking at her. Whatever emotions raced inside his mind they never reached the face. It was her own decision.

Faylin blinked once, slowly as she tapped into her mind, attempting to see into Baile on more than just a single level. As she locked her gaze onto his, her breathing started to get somewhat heavier in nature. It was there....she could sense the things...but not get a solid grasp on it. And that's what bothered her most. She felt an overwhelming sadness, akin much to a lost soul that knew it was lost, yet did not know how to safe itself.

Just above....she was just there....but could not go any further. A field...a transparent screen.... Backing away, she said all she could say. "Oh....Baile...."

Silence. He had felt her touch his mind. Felt his own fires start to burn. What had happened if she had stayed longer? There it was again. If. Don't deal in ifs. "Still think you can be me?" he asked her silently.

"The prey can never be the hunter." She stated simply in a small voice. Fay found herself taking another step back, her skin started to feel hot and scaly yet again. Her protective mannerisms were manifesting themselves in her, whether she wanted them to or not...it was her natural defensiveness rising to the surface as she felt herself start to change.

He took a step back, giving her some space. "I'm not going to hurt you... If that was to happen it would already have happened." He could almost feel Maya chiding him in the back of his mind. "For now this is the safest place on the ship.. here.. "

Despite his words, she felt herself taking another step back, stopped short by the meeting of two deck plates. Saying nothing, the overly confident woman suddenly felt weak as she continued to transform. Her eyes never left his as her body shifted. Blinking, a second pair of eyelids presented themselves, protecting the emerald colored orbs that replaced her terran like eyeballs.

As the transformation completed, she stood, still backed in a corner, as the transparent scales rested in place, giving her pale skin a rather glossy finish. The being at this point, stopped blinking, staring at Baile with a new found fear that caused her to shiver. In her native tongue, ethic in tone, she warned him. But, would he understand?

The marine watched the scene play out in front of him. He had never seen a shifty like this before. They continued to lock eyes for another handful of seconds, an eternity, a passing moment between two thoughts. He turned around and watched the stars again. "There are things in the dark you will never see.. " he said to her again. "In the corner of my eyes. I can never quite see it clearly..but its there.. not all the time, but sometimes.. Maybe there will come a day when you are right to fear me.. but not today."

Fay stood in the corner for another few moments, wondering whether to trust him or not. He still fascinated her in more of a natural essence. Blinking her inner eyelids, she returned to the form he knew her as. "Just do me a favor...."

"Depends on what it is..." he replied silently. He wondered if the cat had watched the same stars as he did now.

"Let me know a few days ahead of time....before I'm to fear you." She whispered.

He just nodded. "I promise."

"Thank you...." With a new found respect for at least one Marine, she walked over and stood beside him, looking out at the stars.

~Return of Cutter Kara'nin, Part VIII~
"Revelations"

It won't work.

With two fingers on his left hand, he gently massaged his brow, pushing the skin and muscle in small circles. It seemed to only aggravate the minor pain that was beginning to form from the strain of staring at computer monitors.

It won't work, he thought to himself again. He could tell already, even before the computer simulation had finished. His theory was flawed.

He took comfort in the fact that it wasn't just his theory that was flawed. In fact, he was certain it was an improvement on the standing theory. In a few more moments, he would know for sure, but he was already certain that it was better. Of course, he was also certain it was still wrong.

Physics had come a long way in the last thousand years, much further than any other science had progressed. They had discovered gravity, electromagnetism, fundamental particles, and the strong and weak force. They united electromagnetism and the strong and weak forces, and found more fundamental particles. Then, they tried to unify gravity with the other three forces. Instead, they discovered negative energy, Cochrane warp fields, and subspace, and more fundamental particles, supraspace, supersymmetric particles, parallel universes, time travel, pocket dimensions, and, as always, more fundamental particles.

Gravity was still isolated from the electromagnetic, strong and weak forces. And, now, they had several more forces complicating matters, waiting to be unified. There were three main force groups currently - EM, strong and weak versus gravity and the negative force versus the layering forces. And, as they've always done since such things were first known, all these forces broke down inside black holes and back during the big bang. Many hundreds of years and these two places in space-time still baffled even the smartest men in the universe - and they still baffled him.

Now, sitting a top a new, bubbling Big Bang waiting to explode from the core of a black hole, Cutter would normally have found his situation laughable. He would have, except he was spending all his considerable mental efforts trying to find a way to stop it.

And he was working under a countdown.

Unfortunately, he couldn't see the numbers. They were unpredictable (which was part of his problem). Below him, beneath the station he spent the last few years of his life designing and building and running, hovering on the event horizon of the black hole he had wanted so desperately to study, had wanted so desperately to see inside of, sat a constricted set of folded dimensions (he had been able to count 17 so far, according to the data they were receiving) which was being piped energy from within the black hole (something that should be impossible; had he the time, he would have plucked the ideas about such a situation from the back of his mind and written them out on paper). This energy was exciting the dimensions, causing them to expand, or, rather, to try to expand. Fortunately, they were hindered by the temporary constriction net, like the egg shell that held in a baby chick. Eventually, the correct combination of dimensions would froth forward and create a geometric shape that encouraged the annihilation of the constriction branes and their anti-branes, destroying the net.

Then, well, Big Bang.

Who knew how long it would take. It should have happened by now. If they were in normal space, it would have. Fortunately, the time dilation caused by the proximity to the black hole was giving them a temporal handicap. But, the clock was still ticking.

The computer in front of him beeped. Cutter focused his eyes, and as expected, the simulation had failed. Now he could start a new one.

Suddenly, one of the station engineers skidded into the room, the rubber of his soles squealing like a gutted swine. "The, uh-- hhuhh-- the anomaly is expanding," the young man said, panting from his run.

"What?!" Cutter exclaimed, rising from his seat with such energy that he sent the chair flying across the room behind him. "How much?"

"Slow. Slower than you expected."

Cutter rolled his eyes and flapped his wings, annoyed. "How much?" he repeated, having not received the answer he wanted. He stepped around the desk and quickly moved towards the engineer.

"Uh-- hhuhh-- point-oh-oh-three percent per second," the human said, a hint of fear rising in his voice as the large avian moved towards him.

Cutter darted past the engineer into the hall, then ran towards the mission control room. Immediately, the other scientists and engineers gave him an update.

"Its still expanding, and its rate is increasing, its at, um..."

"It just passed point-oh-oh-six," a second scientist filled in.

"Look at this expansion pattern!"

Cutter cast his eyes down to the monitor, examining the way the new universe was expanding. "Its being sheared by the singularity's gravity," Cutter explained quietly, though his intonation indicated the statement was a question instead. That was very curious behavior, he was not expecting this.

"Can you stop it?" Dr. Virgil Maro asked, stepping up behind him.

He turned and glared, "No. No, I can't. Nothing I've tried will work. And now that it's started expanding, it will soon move away from the singularity's gravity and expand uncontrollably, and within the day, our entire universe will be erased and overwritten!"

"Then we're all damned," Maro said quietly, to himself.

"I believe that's what I just said," Cutter said angrily, "that is unless you have any ideas? Eh? I mean, you seem to think you know enough to interfere in the first place, Dr. Maro, so, can you save us?"

The psychiatrist looked up at him, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Can you?" Cutter continued, "Do you have any ideas, Dr. Maro? And if you say prayer, I swear I will spend my last moments of existence choking the breath from your neck!"

"I think its too late for prayer now, Dr. Kara'nin."

"Well, thank you, that was helpful. Does anyone else have anything they want to try?" Cutter shouted madly at the rest of the room, his voice creaking, like the last hinge of sanity.

"If we could just repair the constriction field," a scientist in the room said. All others turned to him, eager to see which among them was fool enough to end his life quicker than the rest. "If we could pipe in new constriction branes then--"

"Shut up," Cutter said quickly, cutting the man off. It was not an order unleashed through anger, though, it was a request to the oncoming epiphany to not just peek out, but to fully emerge from its cave. "That's it. That's it!"

"Really?!" the scientist said excitedly, "I mean, its--"

"No, that'll never work and you're clearly an idiot," Cutter said just as quickly as when he ordered the man to be quiet. "The singularity. The shape of expansion is being affected by the singularity's gravity. Which means that its affected by gravity. Which means the expansion is effected by our universe, by our forces, by our physics. Which means, if it was inside the singularity, its expansion would be contained."

"But, then, shouldn't it have fallen into the black hole by now," Maro asked.

"It is," Cutter explained while typing in numbers into the computer console, "That's why its expanding in this shape, and why its expanding so slowly. Its almost all going into the black hole. But the origin point is immobile. Its a point in space-time, and its just on the surface of the singularity. If it were inside...

"We need to move the event horizon," Cutter said.

"What?" Maro exclaimed, shocked.

"Bertrand," Cutter said, turning to the tall, blonde engineer, "Upload all the data to the relay station. All of it. Everyone else, abandon the station."

"What?! What are you going to do?" Maro asked as everyone else jumped from their seats to begin evacuation.

"I'm going to push the station into the black hole."

"Stairway to..."

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara

Vulcan, Mount Seleya

****

It had to be Mount Seleya.

That single thought kept repeating itself over and over in the back of Iniara's mind. Galaxy's entire crew complement (well, minus the few that hadn't retained the katras that had tried to meld with them) had been dispersed among various monasteries and holy sites across the planet in an effort to relieve them of their unique burdens as quickly and painlessly as possible. And she, along with a handful of others, had been sent to Mount Seleya.

She wondered if it was because of her so-called "unique situation". As one of the strongest telepaths on board Galaxy, Iniara had found herself unusually capable of communicating with the katra in her head...speaking to it, conversing with it, learning from it... She'd formed a sort of bond with it in the time it had taken the ship to cross the many light years to Vulcan. Maybe it was going to take an especially skilled Vulcan to sever that sort of bond and remove the katra from her head.

Or maybe it was because of her rank, her duties, or her clearance level. If she could learn from the katra, then perhaps the katra could learn from her, which would create a security risk that no doubt made Starfleet uncomfortable. If the most senior members of...whatever the Vulcans called their holy orders were here, then perhaps Starfleet trusted them enough to allow them a peek into the minds of their most guarded officers. It would certainly explain why she had passed M'Kantu on her way here, as well as a handful of Intelligence officers and members of the senior staff.

Or maybe it was simply the Vulcans' way of showing off. After all, Mount Seleya was one of the most sacred places on Vulcan, comparable to B'hala on Bajor or Jerusalem and Mecca on Earth. They would never be as direct about it as most other cultures Iniara could think of, but perhaps (in their own unique way) the Vulcans enjoyed treating the Galaxy's senior staff like a group of visiting dignitaries here to tour holy sites.

Or...maybe she was just overthinking the whole thing.

Whatever the reason, Iniara found herself simultaneously thankful and irritated at the situation she now found herself in. After all, it wasn't every day she got to climb thousands of stairs cut directly into the side of a mountain on her way to a place few non-Vulcans would ever visit. There were no mountains on a starship, no rocks, no stairs... It felt good to be outside again, breathing real air, climbing real steps carved out of real rock, even if the day was so absurdly hot and the stairway so absurdly long that Iniara wondered whether she would make it to the top before collapsing from heat exhaustion.

"Tarin of Bajor." The voice, quiet yet full of authority, froze Iniara in her tracks. Her journey was almost over, she realized as she looked up to see a lone priestess watching her. A long moment passed between them before the priestess spoke again. "Are you prepared?"

Without responding, Iniara climbed the remaining three dozen or so steps, silently regarding the priestess as she stepped onto the landing. The woman was taller than Iniara and much thinner, with a regal air about her. An elaborate headdress sat heavily on her brow, yards of deep crimson and pure white silk flowing from it to cover every inch of her body save her face. Determining the priestess' age at a glance proved to be difficult; the skin of her face was patterned with tiny wrinkles and creases, but her expression seemed to carry the spark and vitality of someone much younger. It reminded her of someone she had once known of...an ally of the Valen...someone who had gone by no other name than "Princess"...

Iniara closed her eyes, forcing the thoughts back as she tried to focus on the task at hand. The priestess was still waiting patiently. She turned her attentions to the woman, looking into her eyes for the first time. Green eyes. She'd known someone with...

"I am prepared," she answered at last, using the words to stop her wandering thoughts. This will all be over soon, she reminded herself. Soon.

""Very well." A slight rustling sound preceded the appearance of a bejeweled hand and slender wrist from beneath the folds of fabric. The priestess beckoned across the open surface to where there stood several other similarly dressed figures, all silent and unmoving as statues. "This way."

"Finding my Voice"
Manslaughter Part IV

Swimming laps, long strides, short strides - doesn't matter. Can't swim faster than my thoughts anyway.

At least I got a chance to wear my new bikini - couldn't help spending credits on it even if I promised not to buy myself frivolous things. It's periwinkle, strappy, and fits wonderfully.

Too bad there's no one here at this hour to appreciate it.

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

I was alone with my thoughts....such as they were before she walked in.....the bikini was periwinkle, strappy, and fit her wonderfully .....I had to think for a while to remember what that meant exactly

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

Oh well, I'm not really in the mood for that kind of water sport anyway. At least not unless it's with a certain security officer. Got to put that out of my mind. Right along with the Vulcan's memories - now that she's somewhere safe. And memories of my own - got to lock them away in my mind somehow, take the key, break it, and jettison it into mental space.

That'd be nice. Wish it were that easy.

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

Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.........I know I tried.....tasted like chlorine.....The little girl in the bikini however.......oh how I drink her in.....long and lean and glistening from the water.......Oh how my heart aches. Maybe that's because I'm squeezing it too hard. I relax my grip on my chest, bloody fingerprints leaving crimson trails down my shirt. Oh silly me.....again with the self inflicted wounds. Have to remember that's for the other people....

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

I float on my back for awhile in the shallow end, try a few handstands - hey, no one is here to see my legs flounder-, and then see how fast I can swim to the other side of the pool and back. Childhood games but you do what you can to make yourself happy.

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

Nice legs......hers....not mine

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

I miss being happy.

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

I miss being happy

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

Have I ever been happy?

Did I get the urge to over dramatize from my mother?

Ha, she's probably still getting over the shock that I've transferred to Vanguards. And she thought my being an engineer was bad. I wonder if she thinks I'm going to try for something really crazy like -

What was that?

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

I'm squeezing my heart again....blood running down my fingers sticky and sweet, so I almost don't notice her....noticing me. It's been so long since nice girls have noticed me.......

YOU DON'T SEE ME! YOU DON'T SEE ME!

It'd be nice to meet a nice girl and settle down.....I swear sometimes it makes my heart ache to be so lonely Oh yeah....the squeezing again.....

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

I'm back at the shallow end now. Could have sworn I heard something. I look around, don't see anyone, but it's enough to get me to get out of the pool. I don't want to deal with people right now. I just want -

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

I wipe my blood on my pants.....will I never learn....giggle

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

Okay, that was creepy. I could swear I just heard a giggle. And now my past history and a love for old Earth horror movies has just convinced me that it's past time to go. Forget the towel; I want my hands free. I'll just go to my quarters, take a long shower, and try hard not to daydream about people that I can't have. Good plan.

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

YOU CANT SEE ME...YOU CANT SEE ME......Oh ....ok....you can see me now.

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

I turn and there's someone in my path.

No one I recognize. Doesn't look too friendly either.

Danger, no lifeguard on duty.

I open my mouth to say something, like 'hi' or 'hello' or 'can you move out of my way' but I look closer and my initial assessment of 'not friendly' upgrades to 'not sane.'

Not terribly easy to spot at first but since I've seen the look before, I guess you could say that I'm an expert. Lucky me.

I'm afraid but, more than that, I'm pissed off. Why do the psychos and the ovary collectors and the spirits of dead Vulcans have to find me? Why does God hate me so much?

"Leave me alone," I hiss and my vocal implant makes my voice sound like a sword being drawn. Or perhaps that's just wishful thinking on my part. He blinks though, maybe never having heard a person sound like a machine before.

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

That voice!

Oh my flower....my delicate bikini-petal clad fairy.....how far you have fallen, your voice stolen and obscured by foul technology........ I'm just guessing of course......she could be somebody with a bad smokers cough.......instead of having something lodged in her throat.

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

I wonder if that will make what he has planned better or worse.

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

I'd better open her up and have a look for myself.......

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

We both pause and then I try to make it past him. Try to fight when he attacks. Try to pull every dirty trick that Victor ever taught me.

I only manage to scratch his face before I'm slammed to the ground and I'm pretty sure that's only because he let me.

Freak.

"Let go of," I start before his hands wrap around me throat and squeeze. I wonder briefly if we are all born with some kind of invisible bullseye - hit her here, boys, and win yourself a prize. It's not enough to totally cut off my air supply but that isn't much comfort.

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

Little wheels go round and round............little device that makes her sound. There it is.......a little Type 99 Synthetic Vocal enhancer with a Nitronium power pack, implanted just above the cricoid process of the vocal chords.........

....huh?

.....Something in the back of my brain supplies me the information, but I have no idea where it comes from.... The girl is wriggling a bit, a little more pressure calms her down so I can get a better view.

Where are you you little bugger?

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

There are times in life when you think you know what's about to happen but try to convince yourself that it couldn't really happen, not really, because that would be too cruel ...

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

There it is again........

A quick stab of the fingers, and an unexpected splurt of blood, and I'm holding my new treasure in the palm of my hand. Crap....got some junk on it.

I walk over to the pool a swish it around in the water to clean it off a bit. Behind me the bikini girl is rolling around on the tile gurgling something or other, but I'm too fascinated with the shiny little gizmo to pay her much mind.

Blah blah blah........girls always talking anyhow.

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

... And then you remember that God hates you. Bastard better have the decency to let me reincarnate as something better my next go around.

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

All clean

All sparkly

So pretty in my hand.

I lean over the girl.......her hands are wrapped around some sort of wound in her neck.......looks pretty bad.......poor thing.

Look what I got......... I show her the little sparkler......isn't it pretty?

She seems less than interested.

Stuck up lady.

In a huff I shove my fists in my pocket.....along with my new toy and stalk off.

I make sure to stamp my feet so she knows my feelings are hurt.

TBC.....

"Testing 1 2 3..."

Captain Jaal Jaxom
USS Carthage

(& others)

==Bridge, USS Carthage==

"Torpedoes away," the Carthage's chief tactical officer mentioned.

On the main view screen, two spreads of torpedoes streaked towards an unassuming planetoid floating in the blackness of space.

Captain Jaxom grinned devilishly from his command chair. He really hated doing this to the youngster but Ensign Hicks had to learn. The greenhorn chief needed a good lesson and Jaal was about to give it to him. The only other person on the bridge that knew about the impromptu test was Arel. She just sat at her station looking bored and rolling her eyes now and then for effect.

"Captain," Vam'wa spoke up from her ops station, "I think the torpedoes are malfunctioning."

"Really?" Jaal asked sounding every bit as surprised as a proper captain would.

Vam'wa seemed perplexed. It was an unusual expression to see on a Klingon's face. "They are reversing course. They're heading straight back at us!" Her head turned and her voice's volume went up a notch to add to the urgency.

"That's impossible!" Ensign Hicks exclaimed from his tactical station.

"Impact in sixty six seconds!" Vam'wa added.

"Mister Hicks I highly suggest you arm phasers and fire at those torpedoes," Jaal spoke quickly but calmly. "I don't want any scratches on my new ship."

Hicks swallowed hard and began tapping his console furiously.

Tension rose on the bridge. The other officers were studying their readouts trying to figure out what had happened. Jaal ordered some minor evasive maneuvers that Net'wa carried out flawlessly. At last, with thirty seconds to go, red-orange lances lept out from the Carthage's forward phaser arrays hitting each torpedo and neatly destroying it.

Jaal watched with some amusement. He spun around in his command chair. "Excellent work Mister Hicks."

The ensign was wiping the sweat from his brow. In an almost embarrassed sounding tone he replied, "Thanks…" then he remembered to add, "… Sir!" while suddenly standing at attention.

"We've caused enough trouble for today," Jaal sat back down in his chair, "Let's head back home."

The bridge crew calmed down somewhat when Vam'wa turned around to face her captain. "You 'knew' those torpedoes were harmless?"

Jaal smiled easily, "I did."

The Klingon's eyes narrowed seemingly angry, "Why shoot your own at your own ship?"

"I had to find out how some of you handle little surprises like that," Jaal explained with complete candor.

"What if Hicks would have missed one?" Net'wa turned around in her seat at the helm and joined the conversation.

Jaal shrugged, "It would have hit the hull and bounced off." His smile grew a measure wider, "They weren't armed."

No one really noticed Ensign Hicks at the back of the bridge looking like he wanted to choke his commanding officer for the deception.

"Then we can expect more such tests," Vam'wa stated rather than question her commanding officer.

"You should always expect the unexpected," Jaal answered.

"First Death"
Manslaughter Part V

zipzipzipzipzipzipzipzipzipzipzip......

I'm up to 300 stars zipping by the window before my head started hurting and I had to look for somwething better to do.....

zipzipzipzipzipzipzipzipzipz

700 stars....now what was I doing?

Where was I?

I glance out the window.

zipzipzipzizpizpzipizpzipzip

Hey look stars.......mayby I should count them

one ...two ....three....four.......

Will the damn universe PLEASE shut the fuck up and let me think?

damn of damn my head hurts.

my head my head

my head is dead.

huh? who?

me?

why me again?

now?

sigh.

I heave a sigh and stand, stars to my back and darkness before me.

Outside again in the beige....beige beige everywhere? Who designed this crap. No wonder starfleet is getting its collective asses kicked.....I mean....beige carpets?

If I wasnt so busy murdering people I'd give them a piece of my mind on the subject.

My mind?

Oh gawd it hurts.....

I reach into my pocket and feel the little sparkly device the girl at the swimming pool gave me....such a nice present

Such a nice girl.....I wonder what she's up to these days.....

Thats when SHE walks into my life....the girl in the military uniform.

I giggle....military uniforms.....why does that strike me as so funny?

Anyways she stands there looking at me.

Well not looking at me......thats not so easy to do.

I step into her field of vision and she jumps.....not expecting me of course.

The never expect me.

Im unexpect-able.

Is that a word?

Oh you startled me.

Thats what she says....not me....I dont get startled.......confused.....yes.... homicidal.....always

not startled....not me

Thats important ........write that down.

Write what down she says....

Crap. Am I talking to myself again?

Apparently so because she's wearing this goofy grin.

Cute.

Thin....pretty.....seems like a nice girl.

I have her ripped into six bloody pieces before she even realizes she's dead.

zipzipzipzipzipzip

Just like starlight......hot and red.......

Standing amidst the bloody mess that could have been a person, I watch one of the scraps of flesh peels itself slowly off the ceiling.

Beige and red....better.

Plop.

Faces make such nice decorations.

It falls to the floor and the carpet looks nicer as well.

Better than what?

I scratch my head feeling the bloody mess warm in my hair.....

Shit...I've forgotten again.

I wonder where that cute little girl went to?

"To the Moon and Back"

Lieutenant J.G. Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence

***

To: USS Galaxy NCC-70637/Intelligence/All
From: USS Galaxy NCC-70637/Intelligence/Saul Bental
Subject: Vulcan - Marching Orders

Shalom all,
As you know, our ETA to Vulcan is two days. When we reach the planet, those who wish to have the Katras removed will all be assigned to an elder named So'sak. SFI want one person to deal with all of the department's katras due to the possibility that the Katra witihn you somehow absorbed classified information. If anyone does not wish to have the Katra removed, or if anyone was accidently assigned to another mystic, notify me as soon as possible. Take the time we spend here in the core of the UFP to bring yourself up-to-date in the areas where you're functioning as knowledge-base. Obviously, classified material is more available here than in the fringes, where it can be tapped or eavsdropped by our counterparts. After we leave Vulcan, we'll have a meeting where each knowledge-base will give a short presentation about the recent advancement in his or her fields. I will be leaving to Earth once we reach Vulcan, and will return right before the ship departs to have my Katra removed as well.

Finally, I would like to congratulate Lali, Emvar and Lennem, who will return with me to earth for their graduation ceremony. Mazal Tov!

***

Saul finished sending the message, and turned his chair toward Nara who watched him patiently.

"Thanks for waiting." He said, smiling warmly at her. "What did you want to talk about?"

She smiled back and set the PADD to her lap that she had been studying as she waited. She had been perusing more of the command course PADDs over her others recently. "I decided I might as well that some exams on earth while we were in some sort of vicinity. Some counselors there heard about that and want to see Saia and me as well." She frowned then. "And I think I need to see Professor Marks. I'm just not sure I want to do it alone."

Saul furrowed his forehead. "You sure you want to see that bastard? What will you say to him? 'Confess'? 'Don't rape other students'? You realize he could use it against you? I am sure that he is dying to discredit you and keep his butt safe, Nara, don't give him the tools."

"I was told he would be arrested soon. I just want to see him in the brig. See it for myself." She looked down. She had, for the most part, she hoped, gotten over it, but this would give her closure.

"I'll come with you, of course. I thought about going to earth regardless. You heard the message." It wasn't a lie.

Nara smiled. "Wonderful." She then leaned in to give him a lingering kiss.

His fingers combed her soft her. Was it just his imagination, or did it get longer since they began their journey to Vulcan?

He brought her closer, drowning himself in the kind warmth that was his beloved Naranda.

When he spoke, his breath tickled her ear.

"Don't worry about that bastard. He'll get what he deserves, through Starfleet JAG or otherwise."

She rested her head on cheek, sighing. Part of her worried he would take things into his own hands, and another part felt honored he would consider it. "Listen to you, sounding all protective."

"I don't recall all the oaths we took at graduation ceremony, but 'protect' was probably there somewhere." The Dutchman muttered. Then he switched the subject, sharply. "Do you intend to deposit your Katra before leaving to Earth?"

She frowned. She thought to say something about him killing the romance, but nodded to his question. "Definitely. And need I say, I'm really getting annoyed with getting mentally invaded?"

"I like keeping my mind to myself." Saul agreed. He caressed her cheek.

She nodded. "I know." After a pause, her eyes twinkled as she caressed his cheek in response, "Though it can be such a tempting place to explore." She gave a smile to reassure him she would never do so unless he allowed her access.

"Why, princess, that would ruin a preferctly good mistery!" He replied. It would also most likely convince her to leave him, which Saul was expecting to happen sooner or later.

He pulled her gently to the sofa with an inviting smile, his arms surrounding her thighs.

"Besides, it's rather crowded in here at the moment." He added, and kissed her nose.

She kissed his lips, letting words leave the conversation.

~Return of Cutter Kara'nin, Part IX~
"The End of All Things"

"You're going to what?!" Maro shouted over the cacophony of noise that erupted as the engineers and scientists that populated the station quickly began to accomplish Cutter's order to evacuate.

"I'm going to push the station into the black hole," he repeated, the annoyance churning like gravel in his voice.

"But, you can't!" Maro exclaimed.

"Look, I don't have time for this, so I'm only going to tell you this once more," Cutter said, whirling to face the psychiatrist. He wagged his finger in the man's face, "The only way to stop this new universe from overwriting our own is to cage it within the black hole. I can't move the new universe, so I have to move the black hole so its event horizon contains the origin point of the new universe. The only way to do that is to increase its mass so its event horizon expands. This station is the only mass I have to work with, so I'm going to push it into the black hole."

"But, that doesn't make sense. Every point in the universe is like every other. How can you think that caging the origin point will stop it?" Maro pleaded. He made his case with little conviction, though. It was as if he was just trying to say anything to make Cutter stop.

"Within our universe, yes," Cutter said as he frantically typed numbers into the computer, "And, assuming that universe is anything like ours, that's true inside it, as well. But we're not inside that universe, we're on the outside, and here, there is a specific, important point. That's all I have to worry about. Its only a few hundred zeptometers above the event horizon. This station has a mass of four hundred million tons, which will increase the Schwarzschild radius by..."

He paused as he entered the last few digits and calculated. And then he frowned. "Ts'ek!" he cursed, "eighty zeptometers too short."

Next to him, Maro sighed. A sigh of relief. "Then it can't be stopped. The arm of God will not be broken."

"What?"

"This is God's will," Maro said, "it will be--"

"No, the arm..." Cutter mumbled and trailed off, his eyes glazed over in thought.

"The arm of God, his will, he--"

"The sensor arm! That's it!" Cutter said. "The anti-grav emitters - if I modify them to become positive emitters, I can warp the event horizon and make it bulge. I can cage it that way."

"What?" Maro cried once more, but Cutter had already turned to leave the control room.

On his way, he grabbed two engineers. "Take him with you," he ordered as they passed each other, and Cutter pointed back at Maro.

The two men nodded and moved towards the psychiatrist, "Come on, Dr. Maro. We have to evacuate the station." They each took one of his arms and began to gently escort him from the room.

"What? No! No, you can't. We can't stop this! We caused this, this is our punishment! We cannot defy His will! Let me go!" he struggled, but the two men held fast and carried him away.

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

Cutter entered the systems room of the extension arm, a large room that was exceedingly claustrophobic. There were three control panels in the center of the room. One was open, its top torn off and its internal workings left spilling out like an abandoned surgery. Its touch screen had malfunctioned and the station's engineers had to open the panel and work it manually, by physically connecting the appropriate wires. The walls were lined with coolant pipes, removing heat from the over active anti-grav field generators in the arm, large boxes containing the arm's motor servos and bundles of wire hung from the ceiling, along with bound paper manuals outlining various maintenance, repair and emergency procedures for the various systems.

As he stepped up to one of the control panels, it occurred to Cutter that, despite the fact that he knew perfectly well how an anti-grav field generator worked in theory and how one could be made to switch polarity and emit a positive gravity field, he had never actually physically handled one. He had always delegated those responsibilities to engineers. He would find no help in any of the manuals. On this station, there would normally have been no reason at all to perform the procedure he was about to perform. He hoped he would simply be able to reason his way through it.

Unfortunately, the control panel would not let him do what he wanted remotely. Again, there normally would have been no need to ever switch the anti-grav polarity, so the panels were not even capable of influencing such a function - making Cutter's job harder. He would have to open the base of the arm and reverse them manually.

He sighed, frustrated, and walked over to the large hatch on one side of the room. Behind it lay the inner tube of the extension arm, and a direct conduit to the black hole. Cutter spun the large wheel lock and tugged on the hatch door, slowly pulling it open. Light filled the room, warm colored light emitting from the arm's field generators, glowing like hot embers, and cool colored light, manifested from the energy of the expanding baby universe, rippling like fluid. Despite the repulsive fields, Cutter could still feel the singularity's intense gravity upon opening the hatch door. He felt like he was hanging horizontally in the air, being tugged on by his face. His vision blurred as the gravity distorted the fluid in his eyes, elongating them to the point where he was now myopic.

The field's power feeds lay just on the inside of the hatch, along the wall. He would have to reverse the connections so the power flowed through the circuit backwards, which in theory, would reverse the field's polarity, and which would be simple to accomplish. However, such an act would ultimately fail. Disconnecting the power would cut the fields and the arm would be immediately destroyed before he could reactivate the positive field. Even if he could, he would not immediately be able to control the field strength, which he needed to do. Once the positive emitters became active, they would immediately have to overload in order to produce enough of a distortion to warp the event horizon past the new universe's origin point. If no field would destroy the arm, then a positive field of any strength would most defintely destroy the arm.

He stared at the machinery through the gravitationally distorted haze, thinking. If he built a connection with a preprogrammed failure point, he could increase the power to the field from the panel. When it hit a certain level, the circuit would fail and immediately exchange the feeds, throwing the field into reverse. It was just as likely to not work, if not more likely, than it was to succeed, and it was exceedingly likely that he would be electrocuted in the process, but it was the only thing Cutter could think of.

He stepped away from the hatch to gather the tools and materials he would need, and got to work.

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

"Let me go! I have to stop him!" Maro cried. There were now four people working to escort him into one of the evacuation shuttles. Two gripped his arms and two more followed immediately behind in case he freed himself.

"What the hell is the matter with him?" one of the followers exclaimed. Maro shot him a glare at the mention of Hell.

"The shrink snapped," one of his handlers said.

"Let me go! He has spoken to me. He has revealed his plans to me. He has made me his prophet, I must carry out His will! Let me free!" Suddenly, Maro wrested his right hand free from the engineer that held it down and swung it hard towards to man on his left.

"Aww! He broke my nose!" the man cried as Maro's fist smashed into his face. He immediately let loose of Maro's other arm and the psychiatrist slammed himself backwards into the two men following.

Maro and one of the men fell backwards against the metal floor. The second man flew like a wild bowling pin and smashed into one of the pipes that lined the corridor, breaking it in two. Boiling hot water immediately burst forth like a fountain, seperating them into two groups.

The man who had broken the pipe lunged at Maro as he rose from the floor, but the psychiatrist threw a lucky, but forceful punch, landing on the man's jaw. He fell to the floor with the other follower, both unconscious. Virgil looked through the rushing water at his two handlers, trapped on the other side, and realized he was free.

He was free to save his soul and help God destroy the universe.

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

"Cutter, stop."

Cutter turned from his work on the extension arm. Dr. Virgil Maro stood wild-eyed at the entrance of the room. In his hand, he held about a foot of solid metal pipe. "What are doing here? Why aren't you evacuating?"

"I can't let you do this. Please, stop."

"Dr. Maro, you need to evacuate the station. Whether I succeed or fail, this station will be destroyed," Cutter said, ignoring the man's pleas to stop.

"No. You have to stop what you're doing."

"What?" Cutter asked incredulously. "What I'm doing is the only way to stop this new universe from overwriting our own. It's the only way to stop what you caused."

"I didn't cause this. You did," Maro said calmly. "And the Lord created a garden, and there he placed the man whom he had formed. And the Lord commanded the man, 'Of every tree in the garden, thou mayest freely eat, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it--"

"What the hell are you talking about? Dr. Maro, go away and let me work!" Cutter shouted, suddenly driven past his tolerance point.

"He gave us the universe. He gave us the whole universe and gave us freedom to do with it whatever we pleased. But, He made certain parts off limits. Black holes are off limits, their barriers were unbreachable. Black holes are God's domain and He forbade us from entering. Can't you see that, Cutter?" Maro continued, unfazed, as calm as could be. "Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it, for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die."

"You have completely lost your mind."

"No, you have. He forbade us. It was forbidden, but you and Dr. Brahman and everyone on this damned station just couldn't resist, could you? You defied His will and tread where you didn't belong. You ate of the forbidden fruit. But this time, He's not just banishing you from the garden. He is forsaking all that He's created. He's erasing us from existence and recreating the universe. There's nothing you can do to stop it."

"Yes, there is," Cutter said. "I will stop it. I am stopping it."

"Please, Cutter, please stop. Stop and repent. Maybe he will forgive you," Maro said, gripping the metal pipe in his hand.

"I am not bound by the will of your god," Cutter said as he continued to work. "I don't need his forgiveness. He needs mine."

"If you do this, you will never know peace. You will never know God's love."

Cutter gave no answer. He did not even cast a glance. He simply continued to work, building the circuit that would save them all.

Suddenly, Virgil Maro roared like a barbarian and attacked, slamming the pipe down towards Cutter's head. The avian jerked away enough in reflex to the scream that the pipe missed the center of his skull. Instead, it smashed into the side of his head and into his shoulder. It was not enough to kill him, but the blow still sent him to the floor.

"Ts'ek! You madman!" Cutter cried as he fell to the floor. His head was ringing like a church bell and he couldn't move his left arm, a lightning shot of pain was ricocheting up and down its length.

Maro dropped the pipe and grabbed for Cutter's tools, desperately trying to sabotage the avian's efforts. Before Cutter could react, alarms started to sound throughout the room.

"Stop," Cutter cried as he tried to rise to his feet, but as soon as he was standing and about to shove Maro away from the hatch opening, it exploded. A burst of energy surged up through the arm from the event horizon, erupting through the hatch opening like a bullet from the barrel of a gun.

The shock threw both of the men back against the far walls of the room. As he landed, Cutter could feel the hollow bones in his left wing and arm crack in two. The room boiled with pink-white light, arcing off of and between all the sharp corners in the room. When he raised his arm, the energy danced down and between his finger tips, and he could see it sparking on the edges of his corneas, yet he felt nothing.

With a single sharp breath, Cutter lifted his body from the floor and moved towards the hatch. His circuit was intact, Maro had instead destroyed the particle feeds. "You're God's an idiot," he said aloud, "He made you destroy an unrelated system. I can still stop this."

Without even noticing there was no answer, Cutter grabbed his tools and completed the circuit. Using his only working arm, he pushed the hatch door shut and then he moved to the control console. Ignoring the pink-white energy that was still dancing around the room, he increased the power to the arm's anti-grav emitters. Immediately, the hum of electricity filled the room until the sound was as loud as a plague of locusts. The console exploded, launching its button panel straight up into the air, and a loud snap shuddered through the room. The hatch door had bent down the middle, failing under the stress of the intense gravitational pull.

Cutter wasn't sure if his plan had succeeded. There was no way to tell from here, and even if there was, there was nothing he could do if he failed.

"Cutter," a voice spoke behind him. He whirled around to see two of the station's engineers, one of which he had ordered to escort Dr. Maro to an evacuation shuttle. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he said. It was then he noticed Dr. Maro. He was on the floor next to the room's entrance, his head propped up against the wall in an obscenely unnatural position. His neck was broken; he was dead.

The two engineers noticed this, too. "Oh, God," one of them mumbled in shock.

"We need to evacuate, now. I believe the station's anti-grav anchors have been damaged. It will probably fall into the singularity within the next ten to fifteen minutes."

One of the engineer's nodded, and gently touched his shocked colleague's arm, indicating that they should leave. Cutter followed them, glancing once more at Virgil Maro's body before exiting the room.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Part Sixteen: “Come the Inquisitor”

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton – Chief Medical Officer
Inquisitor General Marcus DaSilva – High Inquisitor
Captain Aurelius – Knight of the Church

* * * * * Office of the Holy Inquisition * * * * *

“Witch, you are now under the authority of the Holy Inquisition, submit and pray for the mercy of the almighty.” Turning to the two armoured knights he raised a hand, “Apprehend the witch!”

Sat, alone and in the dark, Kimberly thought about the events of the previous night. To have gone from welcome guest, to kidnapped bride to be, to prisoner had to be one of the fastest turnarounds in her life to date. The cell she was sat in was small, barely big enough for her to lie down in, and side to side it was worse. With no window or heating, it was probable one of the more uncomfortable places she had been stuck in up to now in her life. Only one place ranked higher she mused as she traced the uneven floor with her fingers in the dark, that place had been even colder though, and no better lit.

Shaking her head, she cleared the memories of a distant cold dark place from her mind, and focused on ‘this’ cold dark place instead. The sound of the massively armored knights walking the halls outside was in no way reassuring, in fact the measured ‘thump’ ‘thump’ ‘thump’ of their weighty feet was only serving to increase her unease.

There had been little time to argue and less point in struggling against the two knights in their powered amour, once they had beamed here it had been a matter of moments from beam in to being shoved in here, and that had been hours ago. With no reference for time save the measured thump of the feet outside she couldn’t even hazard a guess at the time; she had somehow managed to sleep for a while, waking up in an uncomfortable pile on the cold floor. How she had slept she had no idea.

At the sound of a click from the door she looked up and squinted, a bright light flooded in through the opening door. Stood outside two knights were either side of the door, sidearms trained on Kimberly from the moment the door started to open. ~Overkill!~ she mused silently, wondering why they felt the need to point their guns in when their fists would do the job much better.

Nodding as one of them indicated she should stand she stood, forgetting for a moment the low ceiling and cracked her head on the stone above her. Muttering in a low voice she staggered out and felt her arms grabbed.

“Silence Witch!” one barked as they literally picked her up and carried her through the maze of corridors around her. The short walk ended outside a roughly hewn wooden door and all the way Kimberly had visions of old earth Witch trials and vague memories of the Spanish inquisition she had read when younger. But the time they stopped she was biting her lip nervously, wondering just what these people were thinking and what would happen next.

Feeling her feet touch the floor as her escorts dropped her she stood up straight and took a deep breath, whatever happened next she decided to try and work through it calmly, besides, they weren’t savages, ~What’s the worst they could do?~ she wondered as the door opened.

Looking in she saw a neatly furnished office beyond, a far cry from the dungeon a dark corner of her mind had been taunting her with. Shoving that little voice back into its dark spot she quickly took in the room and saw the grey robed figure sat behind a spartan desk, even now his hood still obscured his face.

“Enter Witch.” The figure said, waving her inside and indicating a chair opposite him.

Walking past the two knights Kimberly was relieved when they did not follow and sat, relaxing in the chair for a second before studying the figure beyond. Even with the robes she could tell he was powerfully built, and tall. But every part of him was covered by the charcoal grey robes, even his hands. Putting aside her curiosity she looked into the dim recess of the hood and sat forward slightly. “I do have a name,” she admonished him gently, “Lieutenant Burton.”

“It is irrelevant,” he replied, “the charge has been levied and you were subjected to veritastatum. The matter has been decided.” Throwing something on the desk before her Kimberly looked down to see the pentagram that she habitually wore all the time, feeling her throat she realized the chain was missing.

“Who are you!” she snapped irritably as she swept the chain up.

“I am The Lord Inquisitor General Marcus DaSilva.” he replied, “And I ask you this, of your own free will and with no duress or coercion, are you a Witch?”

Thinking carefully as she slid the chain back around her throat Kimberly looked at the figure before her, ~An Inquisitor!~ she thought, her apprehension rising by the moment. The very name was enough to send a shiver up and down her spine; it conjured an image of a time long ago when sanity and reason had fled before superstition and rhetoric. Sitting back she debated just what to say, and how. “Where…” she began, only to be cut off.

“Yes or no.” he abruptly interrupted.

“Then yes, I am.” she declared defiantly, heedless of the consequences, “I’m not ashamed of who or what I am.”

“I give you this one last chance, recant and cast aside your false beliefs. Embrace the love of the one true God.” DaSilva said, though he sounded more as if her were reciting a checklist, a mere formality.

“Would you cast aside what you believed if I asked it of you?” she countered. “Could you?”

Silent, the Inquisitor sat motionless and for several moments the room was silent, all the while Kimberly tried not to fidget or look irritated. Sitting opposite him she kept her eyes focused on the wall behind him, glad she had sat back in the chair and gotten comfortable. As the silence stretched out she wondered just what was going on under that hood, what thoughts and debates were bouncing back and forth.

Shoving aside an irritating thought from the recesses of her mind, one that quietly whispered to her that she’d find out soon enough and then would probably wish she hadn’t found out, she listened to her breathing and let her mind relax. Truth be told, this guy was unnerving her and her disquiet was increasing slowly in the silent room, but she didn’t want to let him see that as it was probably what he was waiting for.

As time wore on the silence seemed to take on a life of its own and never had silence unnerved her so, it had grown into something palpable, almost like a third presence in the room. All the time she had sat here there had been not one movement or sound from the Inquisitor before her, and she had begun to wonder if there was actually someone under all that cloth at all.

Even though the room was comfortable and not overly warm a thin bead of sweat was trickling down the side of her head and, at that point, it seemed the most important thing in the world to chart its progress; down past her left ear to the top of her jaw bone, and down, and down. Slowly the droplet worked its way down her neck, trickling down her front. Somewhere during its descent it was absorbed by her t-shirt, but by that point its importance had faded.

The thought of water had reminded her she was thirsty, and her mind drifted to a recollection of cascades of water and tall sparkling crystalline cliffs on Thera where the water, so pure and clear washed over the crystal cliffs and past the cities, carved out of the side of the mountains themselves.

~Credit for your thoughts?~ she heard in the dim recesses of her mind.

Lifting her cup from the pool of water she turned and smiled at her teacher, since she had started her internship on Thera she had found herself outside in the open air cafeteria most days, but early mornings were her favorite times. ~Just waiting for the dawn.~ she had replied, draining the cold clear liquid in one gulp.

Nodding her professor sat and looked to the sky, the approaching dawn evident. Waiting silently the two sat listening as the approaching dawn lit the sky, and with it the warmth of the sun caused the crystal mountains to warm as well. The slow expansion of the crystals could not be seen, but the effect was noticeable, the cliffs themselves resonated ever so gently and then there was a noise, a low chime that seemed to go on and on, then it was joined by other notes, each one different, a chorus of chimes that merged into a harmony unique to this day.

Listening to the sunrise music that was this world’s signature, its unique offering to the universe Kimberly smiled, whatever happened out there on her new ship, she doubted there’d be anything that could rival the beauty of the morning melodies of Thera.

~Right now I’d settle for the caterwauling of Klingon opera!~ Kimberly decided as her mind snapped back to the still unnervingly silent present. ~Is this it, is this what they do to Witches ~ she wondered, ~Sat here with this guy just staring at me until I go completely and totally ‘Nuts!’~ she wondered, cause that was what was going to happen.

TBC…

"Homecoming"

1st Lt. Branwen London
Marine Psychologist
USS Galaxy

Marine Captain Man'darr Maivia
3rd Platoon CO (Heavy Weapons)
USS Galaxy

Man'darr placed his duffel bag onto the bed that occupied his quarters after arriving aboard the vessel while it was in orbit over vulcan. The Galaxy had finally arrived and he had boarded the vessel. He had remembered that Branwen had been stationed aboard the Galaxy during the Battle of Romulus.

"Computer, is Lieutenant Branwen London aboard this vessel?"

"Affirmative," came the female response of the computer.

Man'darr smiled. "What is the locarti on of Lt. London?"

"Lt. London is located in in the crew lounge."

Man'darr turned and walked out of the door, heading for the lounge. He had heard the Miranda was being retired. That thought disappointed him somewhat because it was a good ship with an honorable history. Man'darr reached the lounge and entered. Looking about, he spotted a familiar figure with her bac k towards the door, sitting at a table near the corner. His heart filled with happiness at seeing Branw! en agai n--it had been too long since he saw her last.

Something made Branwen turnaround and look, later she could not tell what it was. But she did look around and then went pal e as a sheet. A shrill shriek escaped her lips as she crossed herself. The poor woman literally thought she was seeing a ghost.

Man'darr was caught off guard by the shiriek that London made upon seeing him and causing several othe! rs to l ook at Branwen and then to M an'darr. He crossed the lounge quickly and approached Londo n's table. "It is good to see you too, Branwen," Man'darr said with a large grin.

Very carefully she pinched him and then her eyes grew large. "You're not a ghost." She whispered.

"Man'darr gave her a curious look . "No, I am not a spirit." He then without noticed wrapped his massive arms around her, bringing her close and kissed her passionately. He did not care who saw or what others thought. He had been alone for far too long.

She kissed him back while tears were streaming from her eyes. "They told me you were dead. They said there was no hope." All around them people were grinning and clapping their hands happy to see such a reunion.

Man'darr grinned. "Never underestimate a Capellan." He then sighed. "No, I was not dead.. .but the rest of my team was . I spent many many days fighting and hiding from the T'Kith'Kin. Sometime a few months later, I was discovered by another Marine Special Forces Team." He then let Branwen go and sat down next to her. "How have you been?"

"That's not important, Dar." She could not keep her hands off him, as if to make sure he was there and unharmed. "It must have been very difficult for you. How are you adjusting?"

"I am well, thank you for asking. It is still somewhat...st! rang e to be around so many people. I was used to being by myself. At night s, when I was able, I would often look up into the star-filled sky and think of you and wonder how you were doing. I had wondered if you had moved on since you most likely thought I was dead."

"Of course not. You are in the one for me." She thought about her marines, and what they had said about Ward liking her. Branwen had be en flattered, but never acted on it. "I was still grieving for you. I really missed you." She put her arms around him again.

"I am glad you believe so, and I have missed you as well. It seems we will see more of each other as I have been assigned to the Galaxy's Marine Detachment as Platoon CO for Third Platoon." Man'darr was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "I should never have left."

"Really, you are staying here!" She embraced him again. "Wonderful, we can be together." Than another realisation came. He was also higher rank then she was, so he would be a direct commanding officer in her chain. "Can we be? Will it be allowed?"

"I do not see why not. Our relationship began before I was assigned to the ! < BR >Galaxy and I will not allow our relationship to affect my duties. If anyone has a probl em with our relationship, send them to me and I will be more than happy to show them the error of their ways," Man'darr replied with a mischevious grin.

She looked at him. "You will be one of my superior officers now."

"And why does that bother you? If I do no! t have a problem with it, why do you? We started this relationship before I came aboard. My being a high er rank than you should not matter. Unless you are in Third Platoon, I am not your immediate superior officer."

"I don't know. I didn't really pay attention." She looked at the ground. "I used to be executive officer of the marines on this ship. And now baile and I have been put on the sidelines. No thank you, in fact they told as we did a pretty shoddy job. We didn't! Our marines tried hard, and th ey are good people." There was some fire in her eyes now.

"You are not on the sidelines, Branwen. You are a good Marine. You showed that during the Battle of Romulus. I cannot speak for this Baile as I do not know him, but I can speak for you. You are a good person, Branwen. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise and if they do, send them in my direction and the matter will be solved." He hated the idea that someone would berate Branwen. She seemed to try her best at everything she did and although she may not be the best or good at some things, trying is what mattered the most. "And what do you mean by not paying attention? Are you angry that I was assigned to be CO of Third Platoon?"

"Arvelion and Shaw, they just showed up one-day. There was no discussion with the officers beforehand, they called us altogether and said they were taking over. It was very embarrassing, and the marines were pretty angry. I've been trying to smooth feathers ever since, and not to show to the troops how angry I was myself. I will not have mutiny. But I think they could have done it so much better." She looked at him. "I'm very happy to have you, and you did nothing wrong, love."

"Seems you are correct. They could have done a better job in taking command." Man'darr believed that the troops had to feel they were doing a good job--if indeed they were--and that their leaders were doing the same. To shed that image, only invited disaster."Well I intend to make Third Platoon the envy of this vessel. I have not had the chance to meet with them as of yet, but after I run them through a evaulation exercise, I will begin training them on the areas they need to improve. Third Platoon may be Heavy Weapons, but we will be the strongest and most disciplined plato! on aboa rd this ship. I am glad that you are happy that I am here a nd not angry."

"How could I ever be angry." She held him tight. "I am so glad you are alive. My prayers must have helped after all. I am never going to let you go again!"

A mischievious smile crossed Man'darr's lips. "Should I be worried about that?"

"I hope not. Times like the makes you realise you really love somebody. You are the one for me."

"You love me?" It had been a long time since anyone has said those words to him. For one of the few times he could recall, Man'darr found himself searching for what to say next. "I love you as well, Branwen."

She snuggled even closer. ¡°I want to spend as much time with you as possible.¡±

"I am glad," he replied, feeling lucky to have found someone as faithful as Branwen, yet a part of him was wary due to him being hurt and betrayed by Dr. Hamilton.

"Falling"

Ariennye
Talvalen

Flight Officer John Davidson
Vanguard Pilot
USS Galaxy

****

The thin silky material of the sheet rose and fell with his every breath. Up and down, up and down. Rhythmical, serene, peaceful. Those were words that one might describe the scene before them; had there actually been anyone in the room with him. But there wasn't. He was alone; alone with the quiet hum of the engines powering the huge ship; alone in the medical recovery section, with nothing but a small readout that flashed up his bio signs periodically.

Though in a semi-unconscious state, he knew he was alone. He had no one in his life anymore. No one on the ship to call a friend. It had been many years since he had seen his love falling to her death; years since he had witnessed the shock on her father's face at what he had done. He knew no one on the ship. No one would be by his bedside as he passed. No one would tend to him in his dying hour. No one!

The figure cringed at some memory that would not leave his mind. He felt like he was falling, staring down at the ground as it rushed up towards him. Unable to stop himself, he knew he was destined to crash, splattering into the dirt in a great bloody mess. On he fell, the wind stinging his face, as it rushed past. He tried, as hard as he could to stop; to slow his descent, but it was all for nothing. Nothing was working.

Watching her falling wrenched at his heart. Knowing that there was nothing he could do; no way to save the love of his life. To be forced to watch, in agony, as she tumbled into the fiery pit tore at his heart like nothing he ever had. His heart broke as her body hit the bubbling liquid below and began to burn. He had travelled so all that way, just to be with her again and it was all for nothing. Fury rose in his eyes as he looked at her father, the man who had caused her to slip; caused her to fall. He wanted to punch him, to smash him in the head. But he held off. The man had killed his own flesh. That was torment enough!

The thin silky material of the sheet began rising and falling more rapidly. Beads of sweat formed upon his forehead as his heartbeat quickened. The monitor flashed up data faster and faster, updating the stats in time with his racing heart. The graphic showed his heart beating fast, the blood pulsing through his veins faster and faster.

There he was falling again. The wind still whipped at his face, his fingers tingled in the coldness of the air around him, and the sound of the wind rushing past roared in his ears. The falling man couldn't recall ever being in a worse situation, in all his life. He wasn't ready to die. Not yet. He wanted to live; there was so much to live for, wasn't there?

Images of his family flashed before him, showing him scenes with them in his past. Seeing his sister at their seventh birthday party when he had made that sandcastle for her; seeing his elder brother graduate from the academy; the last time he had seen HER; seeing his parents expressions when they had learnt what he had been arrested for as a young man. Was this it? Was this what everyone said death was like? Seeing your life flash before you? Was this it?

The heart rate of the patient rose further and further, seemingly not calming down. The patient jerked from side to side, as in his mind, he fell closer and closer to the ground. An alarm sounded through the room and out into the next as the monitor began flashing in a red hue. An orderly ran in, scanning the readout and checking the patients vitals before rushing out again.

His body jerked more and more as the inevitable drew near. There was no stopping it, there was no denying what he was about to endure. The end of life; the cessation of his journey; death. The sound of metal twisting and breaking sent a shiver done his spine as the ground drew near. All he could think about was the feeling of something crawling along his skin, as if searching for something. Perhaps it was the wind, or the thought that death was near, or maybe the feeling of whatever it was, but whatever the cause, he shivered.

Deep in his cocoon, his motor skills left him and he lost control. His body shook violently. It took several to subdue his body as the doctor worked frantically to calm his racing heart. Struggling to return him to a sedate state, they worked feverishly.

There she was again. Falling to her death, with him powerless to help. All the drink on the blasted ship could not keep that image at bay. And now, as he lay on his deathbed, lying in a cot on some Elements-forsaken planet, with the medical sensors gradually getting quieter and quieter, he knew, then and there, that he was alone. No one was waiting for him. No one was coming. His elderly ears heard the faint sound of an engine trying to start up, but ceasing soon afterwards. They were all trapped, stuck on this rock. They were all going to die and nothing was going to stop it.

In the corner of his eye, he could see a priest walking towards him and he knew his time was up. Let it be quick and painless, he prayed. The wind rushed past as the green blobs became trees in his eyes, the dark brown, the floor of the forest. It was rising towards him fast, and there was nothing that he could do. With a last prayer to whomever would listen, he plunged into the canopy, which to his amazement, seemed to open up before him.

Three...

Two...

One...

His body slammed into the ground, and he knew no more.

The doctor sighed as the monitor ceased it's alarm and a low monotone sound was emitted. The body before him stopped it's violent shaking and the eyes shot open briefly, a light in them, looking out at the world before darkness overcame them. With a look of determination in his eyes, the doctor began trying to revive the patient, though those watching on held no doubt that it was a lost cause.

~Return of Cutter Kara'nin, Epilogue~

Cutter stared at the black hole through the port hole of the retreating shuttle. He and the shuttle's two other occupants were the last to leave the station. Nothing remained there but lifelessness.

He could barely see it. A blood opal sparking on black velvet, its light redshifted by the pull of gravity.

He was right. The stations anti-grav fields had destabilized. It was already plummeting into the 'hole, never to be seen or heard from again, for all eternity. In another hour, in his time frame, it would be gone.

Two years of his life, gone.

But the new universe had been stopped. He learned that as soon as the shuttle had departed. He was successfully able to warp the event horizon beyond the origin point for the transition field. The event horizon had since stabilized, returned to a mathematically perfect spherical shape, but the universe was locked in. Nothing could escape from a black hole, not even space-time.

He should've been quite proud of himself, he should have been very pleased. By all accounts, he did just save the universe single-handedly. But, Cutter was not pleased or proud. Nor was he angry or upset at the loss of his work or the station. Nor was he sad about Rudra's death. Or Maro's.

He looked away from the window, to his broken arm. It hung at his side. He felt no pain, except when he moved it, and the same was true for his broken wing. He reached out with his other arm, and as it passed near the side of the shuttle, a small jolt of the pink-white energy arced from his skin to the metal. He jerked his hand away out of instinct, but he realized the zap didn't hurt.

Cutter felt nothing.

As if his soul mirrored the singularity from which he fled, he could churn up no emotion, no sensation whatsoever.

You will never know God's love. That was what he said, those were Maro's final words to him. He would never know peace.

What did that mean?

He reached out once more, to the shuttle. There was not another energy discharge. He wondered what it was, the energy, the radiation. What did it do to him? Was it lethal? Most radiation was.

But, he wasn't afraid, certainly not of death. He knew, it was irrational, but he knew he wouldn't die from this. His friend, Zan - her culture had a saying, that only the dead knew peace.

He would never know peace. He would never know God's love.

Was it true?

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