Left Behind?

Midshipman Aina Mason - Communications Officer

DS5

Aina continually watched her sensor panel, the one that she had used to target the laser transmission and control the radio signal. The little system was never designed to simultaneously track and process so many targets - it was more so a person working, in a tug or a waldo, would know what was around them as they unloaded ships, and with that, it was a surprise to her that in the centre was a flare.

It took a few seconds and the system reported that the flare was a warp flare - the ship that was to be there rescue had warped out.

Taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the feelings of being abandoned - she been so sure that they were going to be rescued.but now. Her brain was saying the ship who ever it was, did the right thing. But her heart just wanted to get off the station. It was dangerous.

She heard the commotion outside, Captain Jaxom was trying to calm the number of civilians who were feeling the same things she was. But she was wearing the uniform that meant she couldn't think like that. She had to be strong. The tears welling in her eyes made her pause for a few moments. Using the heels of her hands, she rubbed her eyes, to clear them.

Heading out to Jaal, Aina saw him working on the makeshift system connected to the stations's network, through a router that had been subverted by June and herself, "Captain?"

"Yes Mason?" returned Jaal, his concentration on his work. He glanced up at Aina and paused, putting his attention on her, "What is it?"

"Who ever it was, it was a large vessel and they warped out after the laser and radio message," reported Aina.

Jaal nodded, "Good." Tapping at the controls for a few seconds, he looked again at Aina. "Find Doctor M'Kantu, we have some things that need to be discussed, before they come back."

"Yes sir," returned Aina.

Jaal nodded and returned his attention back to his console and his plans. The Hydrans were not going to be keeping anything that belonged to the Federation.

"Counting and thought"

Petty Officer 3rd Class Victory

Deep Space Five
Field Hospital/Intake Area, Section Q, Lower Decks

Preparations for the evacuation were well underway. Victory, a short red headed red eyed Enlisted woman, a nurse, busied herself helping wherever she could. Petty Officer 2nd class Benedict, Max, her new friend, had send her out with others to take count of everyone in the makeshift hospital. She could tell Max was worried, she could see the signs on his face without even having to switch to her more invasive visual modes. She wanted to go over and say something to him to help him feel better in return for all the kind words he had said to her while they had been out searching for food. But she had all together too much to do first. There were still a good many people to count, which needed to be done as soon as possible. Along with that there were still those suffering from wounds or other medical conditions that she needed to assist as well.

"Okay, you are going to have to keep your arm very still" She said in a soothing voice to the young Ensign who she was attending too. "I'm sorry I still was not able to find a bone knitter to help with your arm, so the splint will have to stay for now"

"I understand" the Ensign replied, gritting his teeth as she carefully retied the strips of cloth that bound his arm to the length of metal that had been procured for his splint. For a woman who's entire body was artificial and built for something other than medicine, she could be very gentle. Her hands worked light but quickly as she finished.

"There, thats better" she said, smiling as she checked the healing patches on his temple as well. "Now, let me take down your name for the count, then I need you to go wait over there with the others who have already been counted"

He nodded. "Ensign Everette Green" he stated his name and Victory input that information into her PADD, adding him to the count. "Ok, Ensign Green. Just over there with the others. We will be out of here soon" She smiled again as he got up and made his way to the group of counted people. Victory double checked her entry and moved on to the next person. Most did not take so long to deal with, but some needed to be tended to, and as a Starfleet Nurse she would do just that.

There were still a lot of people left to be counted. Evacuating all of them was going to be interesting. She knew it was not her job to plan that out, but rather something for whomever would be doing the rescuing. But she was still concerned. A lot of wounded were unable to manage well on their own, some even were restricted to stretchers and would have to be carried out. She did not think it would be hard to recruit volunteers from the others to help with that though.

She was anxious to get off of the station as soon as possible. Too many bad things had happened after she had arrived. What had started as a layover for rest and relaxation had turned into a bloody nightmare. Her friends and shipmates killed when the USS Victory had been lost in the Hydran assault. The ship she had called her home for the past four years was gone, debris scattered across the depths of space. She shook her head. Now was not the time to let her mind wonder, not the time to think of all that she had lost, no matter how alone it made her feel in the universe.

Despite how kind and cheering Max had been, and he had been very nice to her indeed, she felt alone and isolated again, though she managed a good job of hiding it, even though she had slipped a bit erlier when they had been down below. She did not want to burden him or anyone else with her emotions, not right now. There were too many more important things right now and she would have time to grieve for her friends later.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing all of that to the back of her mind and focused on her task. On to the next person, counting, counting everyone in her assigned area and getting that information to Max as soon as she could.

"The Grapevine"

By

Benedict "Max" Maxwell
Petty Officer 2nd Class, Paramedic
Triage Officer/Coordinator, Field Hospital/Intake Area, DS5

Field Hospital/Intake Area, Section Q, Lower Decks, DS5

He slumped against the bulkhead, not for the first time since this whole affair began. But it wasn't out of fatigue, nor to take a moment to add tohis personal log. It was the news he and everyone in the large bay just heard from some errant Ensign who felt the need to pass on any news he had heard from the lookouts. Apparently, there was a ship that came near the station, some weapons fire, and then the ship warped out.

People were already in varying states of despair, anger and defeat. Max felt a combination of all of these things and one more: Betrayal. As much as he wouldn't give in to that feeling, as much as he tried to keep his head above the rising tide of hopelessness that he fought every waking moment that they were all there, he felt it. He searched for the staff from where he sat. They were huddled in their groups, most likely discussing the latest development, and wondering what to do next. Then he noticed Victory, the young woman whom he felt needed to be taken out of here the most, despite the fact that there were many sick and injured that in reality needed to get moved and quickly.

But Max felt something deeper than just the crush he had on the nurse. She had a...what? Something akin to a vulnerability that he wanted to explore with her, to get her to open up with him. And he needed her. He hadn't forgotten the satisfying hissing of methane escaping the suits that each Hydran he killed with his KA-BAR. He didn't want to have a counselor analyze it. He wanted a friend to listen. And Victory was a friend. At least he hoped that she was. She was something special, he could feel it. And it wasn't because her body was artificial, no. She had a soul somewhere in there, a sharp mind, and a caring heart, no matter what she's physically made up of.

The present brought him out of his reverie, as a civilian couple wept, and their children followed suit, the sadness clearly emanating from them. You didn't have to be an empath to know or see it. Standing up, Max walked over to the family and placed his hands on the mother and father's shoulders, getting their attention.

"We'll get out of here," he offered as consolation. "Starfleet, indeed the Federation, would never abandon us here. Trust me. We're getting everyone out of here. I guarantee it." His words had a visible calming effect on the couple, and the children had stopped crying enough to look at this stranger that was telling their parents that everything was going to be okay.

Mother and Father smiled and thanked Max for his words of encouragement, and grasped his hands for emphasis. Max continued to move amongst the throngs of people, civilian and 'Fleet, reassuring them. Most of the people calmed themselves, but some gave off a definite air of taking matters into their own hands. After all this time, the tinderbox was going to blow soon. You can only keep a hold on the average Joe or Jane before they decide that they are in control of what happens to them, not anyone else, be it the Hydrans...or even Starfleet. He made for the nearest 'Fleeter and told her in hushed tones to convey to Captain Jaxom that there may be a problem with some of the people here.

Then, Max retreated back to his corner and surreptitiously unholstered his hand phaser, set it for maximum dispersion, maximum stun. If he had to take a few people down to keep the general peace, he would do so. He'd take the heat for it later, but for the sake of helping maintain order, he'd do whatever he would have to. Now there was nothing else to do, but wait...

"Against the Grain" Part Three

1st Lieutenant Branwen London SFMC Furies Psychologist
Lieutenant Chandrakala Eshe Engineering officer

***USS Galaxy, Deck 10, Ten-Forward, En route to DS5***

~Beginning!~ Kala thought ridiculously, ~It's beyond that.~ She shook her head. "I just don't know Branwen." Kala replied. Leaning back in the chair she stared at the table for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheeks. "She told me that she remembered what happened when she died and when she was in a coma?" she trailed off as her own emotions caught her off guard.

She smiled ruefully, "That part she probably told me in confidence though," she raised an eyebrow, "so please don't mention that to her. Kimberly made that mistake and Nish has not spoken with her since."

"I won't. Wait a minute, she is not talking to Kimberly? But those two are so close." Close enough to sometimes make her jealous. But now she worried, better she be jealous then Dhani be miserable and without the one person she could talk to. "Kimberly is usually able to get through to her. I guess it's worse than I thought."

Kala laughed bitterly, "I guess you didn't hear what happened. And this boat is infamous for its gossip." she chuckled softly. "Kimberly tried the direct approach, she took? well I heard that she actually dragged Nishta, but that was second hand, anyway she took Nish to see the chief counselor, in fact it was the same day you guys got back from your trip. Anyway, they had a huge fight and now they aren't speaking to each other at all." She leaned forward, "And that's why I say don't bother with the direct approach, you'll just loose her too."

Bran groaned. "Damn, I thought Kimberly had more sense. Well she isn't talking to me much either. We had a falling out a while ago. I will not try to make Dhani do anything against her will. I guess her talk to the chief counselor didn't help then?"

"I don't know, she has been a lot more irritable and distant since." Kala replied, "And I doubt that its just the one session? I have a feeling that's one of the reasons that she's not too happy about it."

"Yeah I know about having to go to counseling against your will. Maybe she and I can find common ground there." Bran suggested.

"Why not?" Kala replied, "It's worth a shot." She smiled.

"When do you think is the best time to approach her?" Bran asked. Dhani's sister would know her sister better, she hoped.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Kala replied with a shrug.

"That is really helpful." Branwen snorted. "You must know where her shifts are, and her sleep cycle, so I don't wake her up like I did you. You guys live together."

Kala laughed, "Yeah we may live together but that's about all." she commented acerbically. She shrugged. "Nishta works Alpha and Beta shift." she told her, "Alpha in Main Engineering and beta on the bridge. She gets off at 2130 hours, then she spends her evenings with Michael, dinner followed by a holodeck trip or they go to bed?" Kala left it at that ? she was sure that Bran could fill in the blanks. "I work the delta shift, so I don't see her much, and quite often I work a double, be that gamma and delta or delta and alpha."

"Drat!" Bran frowned. "So the best way maybe is to just leave her a message and have her come to me? Don't want to startle her or put pressure on her." She was thinking out loud now.

Kala nodded along, taking the opportunity to eat some of her breakfast. "Or," she interjected swallowing a piece of food, "you could just do what people do when they want to get to know someone better." Picking up her drink she leaned back in her chair, "ya know, like hang out, go out together, have lunch, train together that sorta thing. Build up a relationship."

'That is exactly what I am planning. Don't worry, I will not jump down her throat straight away. I will not make the same mistake Kimberly made, and don't worry I really care for her." Bran said vehemently, "sorry, it is just annoying not being able to do much."

Kala agreed, "I know, now imagine it's your brother or sister and you might have a clue about how I feel." Everyone always forgets the family Kala thought scathingly. She gave Bran a warm smile, "It's good that you care, I'm glad that you are there for her." She stood up and gave her a polite nod, "Please excuse me now, for I must get to work." ~Duty calls and all that jazz~ Kala thought begrudgingly as she left Ten-Forward.

She left Bran with a lot to think about. She felt sorry for Kala and made several mental notes. Also to try to be a friend to Kala as well. Both sisters needed a lot of support right now.

A little later the marine also left to head back to her quarters.

"Flavor of the Day" Part One

Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO 1st Platoon SFMC Furies
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe - Engineering officer

***USS Galaxy, Deck 13, Brig, En Route to DS5***

Finally the bastards had dimmed the lights. It wasn't dark. It was never dark. But at least the light didn't send daggers into his eyes anymore. Out of the frying pan and into the loving backstabbing embrace of Starfleet Intelligence.

Baile leaned against the wall again. His eyes fixed on something far away. In the dim light his eyes shone like two silver beacons, giving a brief glimpse of the predator inside. He felt at peace now that he would be sent away from the ship. No more babysitting. No more slowing down to let the puppies catch up. Now he would do things at his own pace and his own way.

The door to Security opened, once more letting the light in to penetrate Bailes eyes. The entering figure managed to block some of it, though she knew nothing of Bailes afflictions, nor would she care much if she did.

"Is Lieutenant Baile here?" an unknown voice asked quietly.

"That cell there ma'am" came the reply.

"Mind if I have a moment alone with him?"

The guard said nothing more - just moved away.

Staying submerged in the darkness the woman just stood there, regarding the thing behind the forcefield with a critical eye.

Her scent filled his senses. It made him feel trapped and he couldn't understand why and decided that he didn't care either. Seconds passed as he let her stand there, not giving any indication that he had noticed her.

She took a step forward, her movement was calculated and bold, she kept her body hidden, yet exposed her face. Something she knew he would recognize. She had toyed with the idea of coloring her hair to mach that of her sisters. But then Branwen hadn't much luck telling them apart in the darkness. "Hello Baile." she ventured.

The darkness around her vanished like thin mist in the wind. The darkness was his element. His ally and enemy. "What do you want, puppet?" he replied in a low voice.

"Charming!" she retorted, "I came in here to knit daisy chains, what do you think I want?" she asked eyes narrowing.

"You're a woman... who the fuck knows what you want..."

She laughed at that for quite some time, "You have a valid point there." she agreed with a smirk on her lips. "Tell me though, Mr. Baile. What do you think I want?" She smiled again, slightly deviously, "You'll pardon me, but it makes this so much more insightful." she shrugged gently and leaned her elbow against the wall.

The marine closed his eyes and let the vision fade. Silence fell between them for almost a minute after which he opened his eyes again. "Personally I don't care what you want? so either spit it out or stand there until they let me out?"

"Whatever works for you baby cakes." she replied not in the least bit dismayed. "Guard," she called out moving towards the door, "Can I get a chair in here? Make it a comfy one, oh and bring me a padd," she turned back to Baile, "looks like I have some time to kill." she smiled pleasantly in the darkness and shook her head at him. She knew that he couldn't see her so it mattered not; she stuck out her tongue and waited for her order.

"If you plan on keeping that tongue - leave it inside the mouth..." Baile warned her. The feeling of a caged predator increased as his own irritation rose.

She retracted her tongue quickly and frowned. "How can..." she trailed off and nodded to herself. A small smile of recognition crept across her face. "Your not like normal humans." she muttered under her breath, expecting him not to hear her as she turned away, "Where's that chair?" she shouted through the door casting a wary eye back to Baile.

Something was missing. A thread in the weave, an important one. But which one? Whatever it was it waited at the very edges of his mind for him to find it. He looked at her again, the darkness she tried to hide in once more faded into nothing.

He found the thread.

Walking over to the door she took the chair off the guard, casting a warm feminine smile to counter his disgruntled look. Setting the chair down in front of Bailes cell she straddled it, folded her arms over the chair back and rested her chin on her forearms.

"How's the nose?"

She smiled. "It's fine thank you. Doctor Burton did a wonderful job, don't you think?" she turned her face to the side.

"Sure? considering it's not been broken by me.."

She nodded slowly. "So tell me something, if you didn't break it, how do you know about it?" She stood up, "Seeing as I told no one about it...."

"Lucky guess... "

"I see." she replied flatly walking up to the cell she stood before him, "And what do you think of my new hair style? Do you like red heads Baile?"

"Tell me something.."

"Sure," she shrugged, "roses are red and violets are blue..." she smirked, "Sorry did you have something in mind honey-bear?"

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No." she replied slightly puzzled by the obscure question.

Baile just smiled. It was the same unpleasant smile that had crossed his face on the surface of Romulus when he had truly given in for the first time.

She backed up slightly, turned her face away from him. She struggled with the emotions that he barley contained. Having spent her entire career with Klingons meant she was quite adapt at ignoring others aggressive emotions, but his went deeper than Klingon rage. For a moment she was silent, wondering why on earth her sister would associate with such a man.

"Now do we have an understanding?" he asked her while getting up on his feet. The marine walked towards the forcefield and placed his hands on it, just like he had when Saul had visited him. It stung him instantly, but the pain was secondary. The sparks reflected in the alien eyes, devoured.

"A Matter Of An Insurrection...- Part I"

By

Benedict "Max" Maxwell (PC)
Petty Officer 2nd Class, Paramedic
Triage Officer/Coordinator, Field Hospital/Intake Area, DS5

Tyler Fox, Civilian (NPC)
Gregg Slidell, Civilian (NPC)
Myrlande St. Auguste, Civilian (NPC)

Field Hospital/Intake Area, Section Q, Lower Decks, DS5

"...And furthermore, we're tired of taking orders from you!" The reddened face of one Gregg Slidell was mere inches away from Max's as he screamed his defiance, a small crowd of supporters right behind him. Max had been trying for the last hour to keep everyone calm and Slidell was simply not helping matters as he apparently organized a small posse.

They had the clear intent of heading out and trying to get 'real' help. Right now, Max was the only thing between them and the doorway...and he was outnumbered twenty to one. They had twenty. He was alone.

"Well, you'll just have to grin and bear it," Max retorted. He tried reason, he even tried pleading, but they wouldn't listen. So he decided to take an authoritarian stance to give them a moment of pause. He hoped that someone would come down and back him up. Soon.

"No, we don't," piped up Myrlande St. Auguste. She was a civilian contractor that used top run an ethnic eatery on the station. "Your Starfleet is not coming, and we can get our own ships here to get us out!"

"Oh? Are they cube shaped?" The sarcasm in Max's words was not very much appreciated by the audience.

"You're a funny man, Petty Officer Maxwell." The new voice came from a man who was standing just off to the side. His voice held a crisp British accent, his appearance despite their current state was nothing short of presentable and well groomed.

I gotta find this guy's tailor, Max thought for no reason whatsoever. He regarded the new face in the crowd. Max couldn't remember treating him for injuries, so it was possible that the man was just received as a survivor.

"And you are...?" He asked.

"Tyler Fox," he answered simply.

"Right, Mr. Fox. Well all jokes aside, there are Hydrans out there and up there," he pointed to the nearest bulkhead and then up towards the ceiling. "They will not be interested in negotiating, they don't give a damn if you're wearing a uniform or not. For God sakes, they slaughtered everyone they laid their eyes on up there!"

"Better to die fighting for our freedom than to cower down here like caged rats wondering how long until they decided to come down and finish the job." Fox took a step towards Max. Max responded by placing a hand on the grip of his phaser. Fox paused for a moment and smirked at Max.

"So you would raise weapons against us? I thought you were supposed to be protecting us."

"Nice try," replied Max, his tone not indicating any humor whatsoever now. "However if to protect everyone here I have to take your ass down, then I have no problem shooting you."

That was the opening Fox needed. He turned to the slowly growing group and addressed them.

"You see? They're supposed to protect us, and yet they would strike us down for their convenience." There was a growing murmur, an angry murmur by the sounds of it. Max surreptitiously unholstered the phaser, but kept it down at his side. Then he tried one more time to intervene.

"Look, help is coming. Maybe it's not coming as quickly as you'd like it to and that's tough. But help is coming. And you're not the only ones who want to get out of here. But we're going to do it the right way, understand?" His response was a sucker punch from Slidell, which sent him reeling. He was thankful that he didn't lose his grip on his hand phaser. Then several feet began to kick and stomp on him. As he raised his hands and arms to try and protect his head, someone tried to wrestle the phaser out of his hand. He maintained a death grip on it and in the struggle it went off. The kicking suddenly stopped as the piercing sound of a stun beam aimed somewhat upward caught everyone who was standing over him. Then came the sound of several bodies dropping.

Max stood up slowly, his face bleeding, his body bruised, his uniform torn at a couple of places. Any sense of fair play just went out the window as far as he was concerned. He now trained the phaser at the remaining people who still stood before him.

"Walk away. Now. Last chance-" was all he got out before an object thrown by someone struck his hand and sent the phaser skittering away across the deck. Then Fox decided to strike, spearing Max when he lunged for him. Both men went sprawling to the deck, each fighting for superiority.

"Crackin Jewels" Part 4

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer
Mr. Michael McDowell, Civilian Engineering Specialist
Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Chief Of Operations

***USS Galaxy, Deck 21, Engineering Laboratory, En rout to DS5***

Nara looked at McDowell, "Ever hacked?"

"You mean really hacked a system?" Michael looked at Nara and saw she gave him a confirming nod. He pursed his lips. "On a few occasions, yes. Nothing major, but I picked up a few things here and there." Of course, it was out of the question that he ever would mention anything about the successful hack of the Main Computer of Starfleet Command with the help of his old friend Corkey.

She smiled like a kid about to get a shopping spree at a candy store. "I have really only hacked onto a replicator or the entertainment units to get candy and access things a 12 year old shouldn't." She raised an eyebrow, wondering if Saia was that smart. She'd have to check later.

"Guess your parents weren't too happy with your tinkering, huh? Well, at least it's no surprise that you ended up in Engineering." Michael grinned.

"Who said they ever found out." Nara winked. They did, but he didn't need to know that.

Michael sported a big smile and chuckled. "Ah, ladies and gentlemen, we have a smart one here. But, of course, I already knew that."

She chuckled and started tapping on her padd.

"So, what is it that is 'pink and deadly'?" Michael was looking at Nara for an explanation. He only heard someone mentioning it but had not yet figured out why he said it.

She muttered something but then looked up and spoke more clearly, "It's a device someone claims was a personal information device. It has to be more than that or it wouldn't be locked up so tight."

"Reasonable assumption, but are we all here just to try and break it open? And why we specifically? At first sight I would say this is a bit of overkill. I mean, this many people to hack such a small device. Has no one else been able to get in?"

"Not yet. But someone is bound to. I hope it's us."

"Ok people, let's get to work, shall we?" Jamson stormed the two with no apparent enthusiasm. "Any of you familiar with memory class 2 isoliniar chips? CPG? Coprocessor and peripheral groups topology? Tricorder engineering?"

McDowell nodded. "Yes, I am. Over the years I've come across all the things you mentioned. Except CPG...I think. Maybe I forgot the abbreviation, but that's the one thing that doesn't ring a bell with me."

"No worries, it's not so different then what you already know, Mr. McDowell" Jamson reassured the civilian engineer. For a moment, he almost referred to him by his rank but then remembered he wasn't in service anymore.

Nara simply nodded, "What of them?"

"A personal padd after all is a personal access display device, and it doesn't matter if it's pink or Romulan green. It should have the basics of almost any other padd in the alpha quadrant. So let's review the basics once more..." the lieutenant continued.

"Each and every padd is constructed with micromilled duranium and powered by sarium krellide power cells. Nanopixel molecular matrix allows resolution switching. Data transfer to larger computer core is enabled by subspace transceivers assemblies, or STA. Some even posses the new encapsulated bioneural gel wafers," Jamson moved on. "You know what...let's take this device," he moved to take the same one he tossed on the table the moment he rushed into the lab. "We'll take it apart and it'll be much easier instead of relying on my fragile memory."

Without even thinking McDowell quipped, "Sounds like fun. I haven't done that in a long time. Not since my Academy days." Then it occurred to him that there may be a more efficient alternative. "But would it not be simpler to use the Computer to bring up the complete schematics?"

Nara shook her head, "There could be cloaked components. Taking it apart manually is the best option to really see everything."

"I'm quite familiar with several types of personal padds and tricorders, but mostly with Spoon heads ones, Ferengi and Klingon. Cardassian models use rodinium boronate which is much tougher, but hard to come by. However, it is much less sophisticated device, and can only display 2 dimensional with a very limited holostereo data. What we did back in the days of the war... when we were out in the field and short on tricorders and padds, we've used the hotswappable memory modules from Cardassian ones to enhance our damaged ones. Their power is based on a liquid isotolinium ampules suck...they don't last very long. Some of this technology was actually integrated later on some of the newer models by Starfleet's research and development branches."

McDowell frowned. "Hm, I see that I'm a bit behind on the technological know-how concerning Tricorders. I need to brush up on that."

Nara smirked, "It's in the trade publications that come out monthly. I think they'd be available to civilians if they asked. If not, talk to the Chief."

"Ferengi use 4D matrix for the display and Klingon types are short on memory but are most useful on combat and battlefield because they are ruggerdized, fabricated entirely from tritanium!" Jamson answered.

"Seems to me like you're an expert when it comes to Tricorders, Lieutenant." McDowell said. Next he looked at Jamson. "I have the feeling that if any of us has a good idea on how to attack that little 'pink and deadly' device, that it is going to be you."

Nara felt a tad territorial, but this wasn't about her ego. She nodded, "So shall we get the crowbar?"

"I was thinking of a couple of choices... maybe more" Jamson brought some thoughts. "We could try and use the STA, the subscpace transceivers to hack into the device instead of doing it locally. It might be harder, but maybe we could take advantage of some wireless networking flaws that exists. Another idea, would be to use the memory modules or rods to gain access to the device. It would prove hard, because all memories are encrypted by default even when working inside the device. The device encrypts itself completely every 5 seconds, which is a short time for us to work. The decryptor is inner built, so removing the memory wouldn't be much help, since the memory modules themselves are being encrypted with extra algorithms when removed from the device, and without a Starfleet decrypter on the other end, it wouldn't work." Sighing for a bit, Jamson turned to Nara and Michael "What do you think?"

She nodded, "Definitely something to try."

"Personally I prefer option number one. Figuring out how to decrypt the memory modules could takes ages. There's a better chance that we find one of more flaws in the Network protocols within a reasonable timeframe."

After thinking a few seconds longer McDowell continued. "However, if we submit the decryptor to a closer inspection then we may discover the encryption sequence. I mean, decouple the decryptor and feed it predefined input signals and analyze the output. It's a long shot, but a good second choice if option one fails." McDowell looked at both Nara and Jamson, curious what they would say.

"Ok. So we rip it apart, careful that we can still do plan B if plan A doesn't work." She stood fully and smiled, "Let's get to it."

"Security and clearance on most Starfleet computer systems requires several identity confirmation firewalls that we some time take for granted." Michael brought some of the schematics on the computer as McDowell suggested. "Clearance levels are associated to hierarchy within an organization, and vary from iris and retinal pattern matching, 8htegumentary surface matching, physiognomy recognition, integumentary surface matching and even DNA and neuronal structural matching. Along with that, we have the standard non user protocols, such as user and file permissions, sharing, passwords, access codes, etc'."

McDowell casually scratched his neck to get rid of an itch. "True. But that is what is incorporated into Starfleet Technology. Has anyone been able to figure out what kind of security measures are used that pink device? Anything familiar?"

"We have no idea what methods are used in this organizer for data protection because we can't access it." Jamson added.

"So let's try them all." Nara shrugged. "Well, if we can't find a way to find out which one anyway."

"Maybe we can do that...if we have enough time on our hands. But I seriously doubt that. You can bet that Dha..- ehm, the Chief wants to have some real answers within the next hour or two." There was a sheepish smile on McDowell's face as he looked at Nara.

"Reviewing what we thought of before, I believe that the best way to solve this annoying 'puzzle' is to use a regular Starfleet console to force the pink device to communicate" Jamsons' facial expressions were obvious.

McDowell pursed his lips once again and frowned. "There are ways to make that work if you wanted to do that with a standard Starfleet Tricorder or PADD. But, of course, there's nothing standard about the device what we have here. So, how do want to force it to communicate if we don't know how this gizmo works?"

"Desktop terminals uses the standard subspace transceivers to communicate with other wire free devices. But, computer terminals also use back RF com links or ports to transfer graphical, voice and visual data in certain events, and thus much smaller in terms of data capacity transfer. What we could do, is trick the electronic organizer by lowering its power levels. Reports from Petty Officer John Malloy who was working on device assures that like terminals, it also has a set of backup transceivers. By emptying to power cells, we'll force the device to switch into minimal power mode and use the backup RF transceivers."

Nara smiled. "I like your thinking."

"Yes, it is a nice example of creative thinking." McDowell agreed. "It's simple but straightforward and that's also the strength of it."

"It will be much easier for us to try a 'man in the middle' attack, although I doubt it will work, or simply watch and examine the data stream to 'fish' or 'sniff' out anything relevant. The authentication process involves comparison through the STA with stored user and password databases. If we could not alter it, since it's digitally signed, or accept only specific security identifiers, we could search for user request in the history of the ships' logs. The device must have communicated with the ships' computers in the past, so we should have records. Computer resources would be needed for this kind of operation so I'll clear us some time on one of the computer cores. I'm the Chief of Operations after all..."

"I'd say we have a plan here. Lt. Jamson's idea and the backup plan of the black box approach to further analyze the internal incryptor." McDowell smiled. "Not a bad result after a mere 10 or 15 minutes."

Jamson wanted to laugh out loud, the pink planner was left behind in engineering for a long time, several months, and in 15 minutes, they've already had a plan how to force it open. He'd noted himself to gloat when delivering the news to Dhanishta. "15 minutes of fame...." the proud lieutenant filled his lungs with air and nano seconds later added some sarcasm to his voice, "Let's go and report our theories to lieutenant Eshe, I'm sure she'll be thrilled as I am."

"Flavor of the Day" Part Two

Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO 1st Platoon SFMC Furies
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe - Engineering officer

***USS Galaxy, Deck 13, Brig***

"Now do we have an understanding?" he asked her while getting up on his feet. The marine walked towards the forcefield and placed his hands on it, just like he had when Saul had visited him. It stung him instantly, but the pain was secondary. The sparks reflected in the alien eyes, devoured.

Stepping forward to the shimmering forcefield she stood as close to it as physics would allow. "You do not scare me, Sir." she said her eyebrows rising. "Guard!" she yelled loudly in Bailes face. "Take down the forcefield," she ordered, "I want to get close and personal with Mr. Baile here."

Reappearing in the room the security guard hesitated, "Ma'am that is not recommended. Nor is it authorized, you will have to speak to Commander Dallas."

"Then get the good commander." she replied through gritted teeth, still staring directly into Bailes eyes.

"He's in a meeting ma'am..." the officer trailed off.

Sighing aggravated she let it drop. "Forget about it. Leave us." She was so used to ordering Klingons about back on the T'Kengra she didn't realize that it wasn't her place here on a Federation ship. She was so out of touch with protocol. But it didn't matter right now, she didn't care and she doubted that anyone would want to go up against the other Eshe; the first one was crazy the second could be worse! She smiled bitterly at that.

The grin was still on Baile's face. He continued to press on the forcefield. The tattoos slithering down his arms were clearly visible in the faint shimmer from the field. "I broke Dhani's nose... not yours..."

"I know." she replied.

"So now the question remains... why are you here?"

"I'm here because I want to know why you broke her nose."

He let go of the forcefield. The adrenaline flowed freely through the body. "I'm disappointed..."

"Do I look like I care?" she replied raising an eyebrow.

"Yes... or you wouldn't be here..."

She chuckled. "You misunderstand." she told him as she returned to her seat. "I don't care about how you feel, that is what I meant." She looked back at him. "So now that you know I'm not Dhanishta, courtesy dictates that I should apologies and introduce myself - but frankly I never did like to follow etiquette so you will forgive me I'm sure. But seeing as you are the man responsible for breaking a fellow officer's nose - I doubt that it would really bother you that much. So let me cut to the chase. Now I know, and I have evidence, I am quite willing to go to security and your captain and tell them that you were the person responsible for assaulting Miss Eshe unless you tell me what I want to know. Do we have a deal?"

Baile took a step back and crossed his arms. A faint but seemingly amused smile played at the corner of his eyes. "Ah? blackmail... the flavor of the day..."

She cocked her head to the side, curious. But then shrugged her shoulders, whatever he meant by that she really didn't need to know. "What happened on Romulus?" she asked him out right.

"Who knows?" he shrugged, still smiling.

"You do."

"Nope? it's a bit? fuzzy..."

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter."

"Wouldn't dream of it..."

"I didn't ask if you would." she replied coldly, "According to your report you met up with Miss Eshe towards the latter half of the occupation... is that right?"

"Could be. Could have been at the beginning or at the end or in the middle?" Baile replied and shrugged. "Might not even have been her. Orions all look the same..."

She nodded. "How did you get there?"

"I flew... flapping my arms..." Jesus... what the hell was she thinking? He was a Special Operations veteran with more combat missions than he could remember. Did she really think that threatening to go to the Captain and tell him that he broke someone's nose would make him break down?

She blinked and nodded, "How did you meet Dhanishta Eshe?" she asked next.

"Can't remember."

She nodded. "What do you think of her?"

"Who?"

"Dhanishta Eshe."

"Never heard of her..."

She licked her teeth and tried to hide her amusement, she already had what she wanted from him. "So you lied in your report to Starfleet, interesting. Moving on... how would you regard her mental state?"

"How can I regard someone I've never met?" he asked her, still keeping his arms crossed.

"That's a fair question. The record states that you were on Romulus with her, this is collaborated in both you're after action reports. The computer also stated that you visited the Lieutenants quarters several months ago, on the same evening that she was assaulted, and there are several witnesses to that - so you tell me."

"Tell you what... show me your credentials that allows you to interrogate me... and they better come from Starfleet Intelligence because those are the ones I'll be talking to in an hour or so... Unless you do that - get the fuck out of my sight..."

"You think this is an interrogation?" she laughed openly, loudly, and for quite a while. Straightening herself up she adjusted her uniform, "Mr. Baile, Sir, from what I have heard Intelligence doesn't give a shit about you. No one on this ship does. And believe me if I were to interrogate you, it wouldn't be here, and it wouldn't be under these conditions. I came just to clear up a few things, you have been most helpful." she moved the chair into the center of the room and cast a smile towards him, "Just so you know, this is all 'on' the record. I'll be in touch if I need anything else clearing up." she said cockily blowing him a kiss.

"Feel free to drop by any time..."

She poked her head back in front of his cell, "I might take you up on that sincere offer... some time. Have a good rest in here..." she smirked once more and waved.

The forcefield blinked and vanished. Baile was about as surprised as the woman standing in front of him.

"Stardate 64911.02"

Location: Unknown

Communication commences at 1802 hrs, text only:

Tag (Anonymous User): CITIZEN TRACER

Tag (Tracer): WELL HELLO THERE, NICE TO SEE YOU'RE ON TIME.

Tag (Anonymous User): I DIDN'T WANT TO DISAPPOINT. I DO HOPE THAT YOU WONT DISAPPOINT ME THIS TIME?

Tag (Tracer): OH NO, I DON'T THINK SO

Tag (Anonymous User): WHY TRACER, YOU SOUND SMUG

Tag (Tracer): YOU CAN DETECT THAT THROUGH TEXT ALONE?

Tag (Anonymous User): YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED

Tag (Tracer): MAYBE YOU WOULD LIKE TO TELL ME ABOUT IT SOME TIME

Tag (Anonymous User): PERHAPS, BUT NOW IS NOT THAT TIME. I WANT TO KNOW?

Tag (Tracer): WHAT I HAVE FOUND OUT? YES I KNOW.

<Pause>

Tag (Anonymous User): AND?

Tag (Tracer): I FOUND MANY REPORTS ABOUT MURDERS INVOLVING THE SORIEN FAMILY. OUT OF ALL OF THEM I BELIEVE THIS IS THE ONE YOU ARE ENQUIRING ABOUT: 63707.29 DAGAN SORIEN, HIS WIFE, NATHALIE AND HIS TWO CHILDREN WERE FOUND MURDERED IN THEIR FAMILY HOME IN HEDEYA, BETAZED.

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): ANON?

<Pause>

Tag (Anonymous User): WHY THAT ONE?

Tag (Tracer): HIT A NERVE?

Tag (Anonymous User): JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION TRACER

Tag (Tracer): I SEE, SO NOW YOU WANT TO SEE MY REASONING, WANT TO CHECK UP ON THAT EFFORT OF MINE DO YOU?

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): VERY WELL. OUT OF THE 37 CASES LISTED, AND I DID READ THEM ALL, NO ONE SURVIVED THIS ONE. ALL FOUR FAMILY MEMBERS DIED. AND THERE'S MORE?

Tag (Anonymous User): GO ON

Tag (Tracer): THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THEIR DEATH WERE BIZARRE TO SAY THE LEAST. LITTLE INFORMATION WAS GIVEN TO THE PRESS. THE CASE WAS CONCLUDED QUICKLY, FAR TOO QUICKLY IF YOU ASK ME.

Tag (Anonymous User): I DIDN'T

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): LIKE I TOLD YOU BEFORE, THE FILES HAVE BEEN PURGED.

Tag (Anonymous User): IS THIS THE PART WHERE YOU ASK ME FOR MORE LATINUM LIKE A GREEDY LITTLE FERENGI?

Tag (Tracer): NO, THIS IS THE PART WHERE I ASK WHAT YOUR INTEREST IS IN THIS CASE. THE FILES HAVE BEEN PURGED FOR A REASON. THE CASE WAS CONCLUDED QUICKLY FOR A REASON, THE FACT THAT THE INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED AND MY SECURE, AND NOT TO MENTION VERIFIED ACCESS CODES WERE REVOKED, MY ASSETS FROZEN, ACCOUNT FROZEN AND ABODE SEARCHED JUST FOR LOOKING AT THESE RECORDS: THESE ARE ALL WARNING SIGNS ANON.

Tag (Anonymous User): TRACER, DO NOT TAKE ME FOR A FOOL. I KNOW FULL WELL THAT YOU HAVE MORE THAN ONE ABODE. THAT YOU HAVE MORE THAN ONE SET OF ACCESS CODES. MORE THAN ONE FACE, IDENTITY AND ALIAS

Tag (Tracer): WELL NOW I HAVE ONE LESS.

Tag (Anonymous User): THAT IS NO GREAT SET BACK FOR YOU, NOR IS IT A CONCERN OF MINE

Tag (Tracer): YOU ARE NOT MY ONLY CLIENT ANON.

Tag (Anonymous User): HOW OLD WERE THE CHILDREN?

Tag (Tracer): WHAT?

Tag (Anonymous User): THE CHILDREN TRACER. HOW OLD.

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): TEN AND SIX STANDARD YEARS.

Tag (Anonymous User): WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES?

<Pause>

Tag (Anonymous User): THERE NAMES TRACER. THERE NAMES! SURELY YOU HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN THEM BY NOW? YOU HAVE BEEN READING ABOUT THEM FOR THE LAST NINE DAYS?

Tag (Tracer): DARIEL AND ILUMINA

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): ANON?

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): HELLO?

<Pause>

Tag (Anonymous User): HOW DID THEY DIE?

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): I DON'T KNOW

Tag (Anonymous User): HOW DID THEY DIE?

Tag (Tracer): I DON'T KNOW, IT WASN'T LISTED

Tag (Anonymous User): HOW DID THEY DIE?

Tag (Tracer): IT DIDN'T SAY!!!

<Pause>

Tag (Anonymous User): WHEN YOU FIND THAT OUT YOU WONT NEED TO ASK ME THAT QUESTION AGAIN!

<Error code 04.>

<Unexpected system wide shut down?>

<Re-booting>

<Working?>

<Some files may have been lost due to improper shut down procedure>

<Instigating full system scan>

<Working?>

<Scan complete>

<Redirecting?>

Tag (Anonymous User): TRACER WHAT HAPPENED?

Tag (Tracer): MY COMPUTER TERMINAL SHORTED? NOT SURE WHY?

Tag (Anonymous User): GET A BETTER MECHANIC

Tag (Tracer): ANON, DID YOU JUST MAKE A JOKE?

<Pause>

Tag (Anonymous User): TELL ME WHAT ELSE YOU FOUND OUT

Tag (Tracer): BACK TO THAT I SEE. WELL THAT IS WHAT YOU ARE PAYING ME FOR. VERY WELL. THE INVESTIGATION TOOK TWO MONTHS. THE RECORDS STATE THAT THE KILLER WAS CAUGHT AND SENTENCED TO LIFE ON A TANTALUS PENAL COLONY. THE OFFICIAL RECORDS STATE NOTHING ELSE. THE ARCHIVES AT THE BETAZED JUDICIAL SERVICES STATE THE CASE WAS CLOSED ON STARDATE 63709.17 AFTER THE TRIAL, THOUGH NOTHING ABOUT THE TRIAL IS LISTED. THE IDENTITY OF THE KILLER WAS NEVER MENTIONED. THE ENTIRE CASE IS BURIED IN SECURITY AND PAPERWORK.

Tag (Anonymous User): INDEED, AS YOU NOW SEE THERE IS MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE TO THIS CASE. SOMETHING OF A MYSTERY, ISN'T IT.

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): WHAT EXACTLY IS IT YOU WANT ME TO DO?

Tag (Anonymous User): I WANT YOU TO FIND THAT KILLER, TRACK THEM DOWN, FIND OUT THEIR NAME, FIND OUT WHICH PENAL COLONY THEY WERE SENT TO AND WHEN THE TIME COMES I WANT YOU TO FINISH THE STORY

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): FINISH THE STORY? RIGHT, THIS IS A REVENGE JOB AND YOU WANT BLOOD SPILT I AM GUESSING? I SHOULD TELL YOU, I AM NOT FOR HIRE AS A HIT MAN.

Tag (Anonymous User): JUST FIND THE KILLER: THAT IS ALL I AM ASKING YOU TO DO AT PRESENT. HOWEVER LONG IT WILL TAKE, YOU MUST FIND THEM. YOU WILL NEVER WANT FOR FUNDING. I WILL BE IN TOUCH AGAIN WHEN YOU HAVE MADE FURTHER DISCOVERIES.

Tag (Anonymous User): HOW CAN YOU KNOW WHEN THAT IS GOING TO BE?

<Pause>

Tag (Tracer): HELLO?

<Communication terminated by: ANONYMOUS USER>

<Redirecting to Tantalus penal colony archives?>

End of transmission.

"Flavor of the Day" Part Three

Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO 1st Platoon SFMC Furies
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe - Engineering officer

***USS Galaxy, Deck 13, Brig***

The forcefield blinked and vanished. Baile was about as surprised as the woman standing in front of him. The mystery of the vanishing forcefield was quickly solved.

"Lieutenant, you're clear to go. Bental wants you on standby and ready. For what, he doesn't say."

The marine just nodded and then looked at the woman. "My, my, Rapunzel... the stakes just got raised..."

"It's no matter." she replied hiding her surprise behind a cool facade.

"Tell you what... you want to know what happened?"

She nodded slightly dubiously. "I want to know what happened between you and Nishta, yes. But frankly I don't want to hear it from you." She paused and looked into his eyes, "You have already given me the information I needed to know. If you want an apology for the way I went about it, file a complaint with my department head, cause frankly I don't give a damn." she told him without batting an eyelid. She wasn't scared of him. Hell if she was intimidated by his size and freaky eyes she would have never made it as long as she did on the T'Kengra.

"Here's a tip for you? this is for free... You think you've met people like me before... If you had you would know just how much shit you've gotten yourself in right now..." Baile's voice was utterly void of emotion. Dhani would have recognized it instantly. "If you want answers then ask nicely... Trying to blackmail me won't work..."

"Fine." she snapped, "Forget the blackmail, it's not for you any way." she told him slapping the prettiest smile on her face that she could muster she looked him square in the eyes, "Forgive me for trying to deceive you. Pretty, pretty, please, would you be so kind as to tell me just what the fuck you did to my sister on Romulus that has her covering up for you and almost loosing her job and commission?"

"It comes with a price?"

"And that is?"

"Respect?"

She frowned, "I don't understand."

"You want answers - then earn my respect..."

"How?"

"That's for you to figure out..."

She cast him a factious smile. "You are a delight, anyone ever tell you that?" She shrugged her shoulders in defeat; it would have been nice to hear what he had to say - though something told her that he didn't intend to tell her the truth. She had what she needed - more ammunition would have been good, but it was not essential. Nishta would be easier to crack than Baile. For some reason she had been covering for him and why he assaulted her. But sooner, rather than later, - Kala would have the answer.

"And next time you decide to play hardball - you better be ready to back it up?"

"Hard ball..." she chuckled, "Toots, that wasn't anywhere near hardball..." the urge to strike him for his defiance was strong, and she almost did. But the last thing she needed was a reprimand.

Aggression. It was a beacon. He felt it. Understood it. Craved it. He could almost see the abyss at which she was standing. She was strong and yet so damn weak. "All words... just like her..."

"What?" she asked irritated.

"Both of you talk... a lot... but you always find some excuse, some reason to back out..."

She stepped forward, "Believe me I am nothing like Dhanishta, and if we were on my ship, you wouldn't be standing there. You wouldn't be able to stand - you got that bucko? Damned federation rules and protocols really chap my ass!"

"Excuses... excuses..."

She bit her lip and shook her head. Turning sharply she walked out of the door. With each step all she could think about was turning round and decking the prick. But this was her fault. Perhaps she should have taken the direct route, why she had to play at undercover she didn't know. Perhaps cause it had worked so well in the past. Perhaps cause she missed it. Perhaps it was just cause she wanted to get into a bloody scrap and take out her frustrations of being caged on this tin can with its fake smiles and fucked up officers.

It was more to do with the fact that she hated being here but felt it her duty... boy did she just want to punch that dick-head. As the doors to security closed behind her she whirled round and slammed her fist into the wall. For a moment she stood there, feeling the indent against her closed fist, that and the delayed pain that shot up her arm. "Fuck!" she whispered.

He watched her leave. Anger really did stink. Almost like decaying flesh. No wonder animals could sense it. Fear was just as bad. Baile saluted the guard crisply. Never hurt to surprise people by actually saluting them. He heard the thud clearly despite the closed doors. His low chuckle carried down the hall as he exited the brig.

She didn't look up as she heard the doors part. She did grind her teeth as his laugh filled her ears though. She took a deep breath. Life aboard a Klingon ship was so much easier than this. She removed her hand from the bulk head and stretched out her fingers, wincing with the pain. ~Dumb ass~ she chided herself. ~Well at least I made it several months before taking a trip to the doctors... wonder how I'll explain this to Kimberly... awww crap!~

"You fancy yourself a warrior then I take it?" he asked her as he walked up to her. He had placed the goggles over his eyes now that the light was back on again.

"What and who I fancy is no concern of yours." she replied walking down the corridor towards the turbo lift.

Baile sighed. It was like watching a child. Not even Dhani behaved like that. "Hang on... let me take a look."

She held out her hand, surprised at his offer. "I can just go to sick bay." she told him, "Don't worry I wont mention why I felt like I had to hit the wall."

"Don't worry? ...half the ship will know in a few hours that you've talked to me..." he took her hand, surprisingly gentle. "Besides... sickbay has more important things to patch up than a few busted fingers."

She nodded, "It just needs some ice." she replied. Gesturing to the turbo lift, "Your place or mine?" she asked cautiously.

"I need to get my gear ready so might as well kill two flies at once."

"Okay." she said, "yours it is." Continuing down the hall she elbowed the call button for the lift. As the doors parted she stepped in, "Which floor?" she enquired.

They rode in silence. Baile's thoughts were already focused on the coming battles. It wasn't easy to keep the body in check. The energy building up inside was formidable. He had felt like that before. On Romulus. Tireless.

It didn't take them long to reach his quarters down in Marine territory. The marines that passed looked weary of him. Rumors had spread down there as well. The marines knew he went awol every now and then and some of them knew of his past in the Dominion War. None wanted to be the one to ask questions. That was best left to the brass.

Bridges got burned fast. It made him feel a little bad. But by each day that passed he felt more and more out of place and he had no idea why. It bothered him more than he admitted to himself. Opening the door he let her enter first.

{{OOC: The second half of this post contains explicit sexual content, be warned - me and Lori felt naughty :] }}

"Together, Apart"

Lieutenant J.G. Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence

Nara stood outside Saul's quarters and rang his bell. They had planned to have dinner tonight. It had been so long since they had a date between their duties and Saia and Saul's own little agenda.

"You may enter, princess."

Nara took one step inside, and stopped dead on her tracks. Saul's permanently untidy room was dimly lit by a pair of candles on the dinning table and red background illumination. Saul himself was wearing a black suit not unlike a tuxedo, holding a single red rose in his hand and swaying to the soft notes of a quiet swing tune.

"You're beautiful." He told her.

Nara smirked, trying not to laugh. It was so old movie. Which made sense as he liked to watch old movies. "And you're quite suave."

"I haven't heard that words in ages!"

Saul ushered Nara in, with a brief stop to kiss her cheek. Thing also buzzed from the corner to welcome her, and she was amused to see that Saul tied a blue ribbon to the metal ring extending from Thing's furry tail.

"Wait until you taste the amazing home cooking I made." He said.

She smirked, "You programmed something new into the replicator?"

Saul rolled his eyes. "A good programmer is never appreciated. Of course Naranda, if you prefer me to prepare you a selection from the fine cuisine of Utrecht III..."

She wrinkled her nose in answer.

"I didn't think so." , He grinned.

Replicated or not, the food had a good taste to it, and the smell really brought the appetite. Saul tried to keep his manners, but it was quite clear that he preferred to use his fingers rather than the three sets of utensils lying on the map in front of him.

Still, he managed a confident smile at Nara. She was worth all the fuss.

"Here's to surviving another battle." He raised his glass, which was filled with orange juice.

She raised hers as well, "Here here." She sat back and looked thoughtful after she took a sip.

"Saia must be sick of it."

"Yet she would prefer to stay here than go live with her Grandma. I think she's becoming a masochist."

"Which makes her perfect for the Galaxy."

It occurred to Saul that while he was trying to make it amusing, in the end they were talking about a teenage orphan that was stuck on a battleship in the middle of an overwhelming enemy invasion. Then again, he thought, Saia had a bed, as much food as she wanted, an adult that cared for her, and a reasonable protection from being raped. Most of the girls he hanged out with at her age had none of these things.

"And how's Saia's roommate doing?" He inquired.

Nara nodded and smirked. She had to admit she agreed she herself was a masochist. "I think fine. She's been kind of distant lately. I suppose I have too."

That didn't escape Saul's eyes, even before she put it out in the open. Ever since news of the invasion reached the Galaxy, Saul was on duty most of his waking hours so he didn't spend much time with Nara (which probably wasn't slacking too much herself). However, even now that they had time together with no intrusion, she seemed slightly aloof.

"Any specific reason why?"

She shrugged, "Life is getting more and more complicated. It was like that when I was growing up and I think Saia is gutsy enough to deal with it."

"I was talking about you, not her."

Nara blinked and looked at him. "I was talking about me too." She set the drink down and sighed, "I have a dream of settling down on Sakaria. I didn't expect to really do that until 30 or so years from now. Unfortunately, by that time, Saia will be too old to..." She shook her head. How dare she think of early retirement.

Something icy formed inside Saul's stomach, sending chilly fingers in all directions. Nara loved Sakaria and loved talking about Sakaria, but never like this.

"Staying at one place would make things less complicated... or would it? I don't know, with your father's status."

She shrugged and looked up into his eyes and in that she found herself never wanting to leave. Smiling, she reached over and touched his cheek, "Never mind."

Saul decided to file what just happened for later thought. He caressed the back of her hand, and smiled back. It was difficult not too.

"Anyhow, I decided that if I'm with a princess I better carve my own kingdom here on the ship, or else she'll find me unworthy." He joked.

She smirked, "Oh? How have you done that?"

"It was unintentional, really. Lali stayed after graduation so we have one more Ensign and one less cadet, and then there were people which ended up working for me, at least temporarily... there's Baile from the marines, and you probably know already that Miramon and some others are off-ship for a little recon mission; We're in charge of--"

"Baile?" She tensed at the name.

Saul caught that, despite not being the telepathic one amongst the two of them. "Yes, Baile. He's not too popular after what happened with Faylin, but she hasn't exactly been your best friend here."

"Can I see him?"

"What for?"

"Same reason people like to go to the zoo or circus. He's a fierce creature that intrigues me."

Tension now resided on both sides of the dinner table. "Fay thought so too, and she nearly died. He is dangerous. Find another animal. Thing can be fierce too."

Nara looked over at thing and nearly guffawed, but looked back at Saul, "I've been in his mind. I've wrestled with him. I know how deadly he is." She sighed, "Fine." She looked at Thing again, "He is a rather curious fuzzball." She tilted her head, "I've never tried to read an animal's mind before."

"Didn't you just Say you've been in Baile's mind?" Saul couldn't resist. He also didn't want Nara to attempt to read Thing, since it will only give her a major headache and cancel any potential post-dinner plans.

Nara nodded, and finally turned to look at Saul. "Almost everyone has a metaphorical mindscape. His was a frozen wasteland. Either his own darkness or he consciously tried to freeze me. I've been in other minds and a few just as aggressive, but I do think his was one of the most interesting mindscapes. The harder they try to hide, the more interesting things they must have. I've tried to stop asking if I can explore people's minds. I don't get as drained, but it is still draining."

"Of COURSE he tried to freeze you!" Saul raised his voice, "I would too! It's a person, Naranda, a person! He may act like a beast, but that doesn't give you any right to violate his mind. Not without a much better reason than personal satisfaction!"

Nara raised an eyebrow, "It's not like I raped him, Saul. He let me. I was feeling self-destructive at the time and I wanted to fight and he was a good target. One thing led to another and I was dangerously curious and he seemed to like the idea of having another way to hurt someone." She looked down, "I remember him mentioning, or thinking anyway, that he wanted someone to see what little humanity he had left."

"And you want to go back to that? Why?"

She looked confused, "Did I?" She shook her head, "Believe me. Baile is transparent enough. Well, transparent at being guarded." She smirked at Saul, "Like someone else I know." She took a sip of her drink, "This ship has some dangerous people on board, Saul. Each more dangerous as the next. I like to think I want to be sure I know them in case they go coo-coo and go on a rampage. I'd like to know how to fight them." She stood, "Or that's just the warrior in me. I suppose as an Engineer, I need to trust Security to do their job."

Saul also stood up. He circled the table, looming over her.

"Baile is my responsibility now, Nara. I'll handle him. What you plan to do will only make him mad."

Nara blinked. She seemed to have stumbled upon some deep dark something or other. She narrowed her eyes, "Don't pull your bully tactics on me." She stepped away. "You have no idea what I was planning to do." She looked at him again, "And you know full well all you have to do is say I'm not allowed near him. You have the rank and position to do that. You don't have to try to intimidate me."

"The IDEA, Naranda Sol Roswell, was to hug you. It's hard to do from the other side of the table."

Her face dropped. "Oh." She stepped closer. "Sorry."

Saul measured her with his eyes for a moment, and then closed the distance between them and embraced her tenderly.

"I got him covered. I got them all covered." He said. Baile, Eve, Raynor, even Darksky and Vortas... all of them could become very dangerous, and Saul was secretly devising plans to neutralize every single one of them. He couldn't tell that to Nara. He couldn't tell her many things. That's how it is when you are in intelligence. When you are a Bental.

"What am I going to do with you?" He asked meekly. She rested her head on his shoulder, "Whatever you want."

"Careful, princess, I am a very creative man."

Nonetheless, that still earned her a kiss.

She smiled and kissed him back. There was never enough time with him. Her hands held his face as her kissed turned more passionate, tempted to tell him in his mind that she was OK with creative. She knew better. She slightly opened her eyes and saw Thing. She whispered, "It's watching."

"Of course it is. We're funny aliens doing funny things." Saul noted. He glared at Thing, who remained still in mid-air, then looked at Nara again. His fingers 'accidentally' touched her breasts.

"Thank goodness senior officers' quarters have a separate bedroom; We can leave Thing here to wonder what the curious aliens are doing behind the door. One condition, though."

She raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Oh?"

"Baile, the war, Sakaria - all of those stay outside, with Thing."

"I'm sure Thing can keep good care of them while I take good care of you," she winked at Saul and walked to the bedroom, shedding piece by piece of clothes on her way, keeping just enough not to show too much to Thing. Just in case it had such desires.

He followed her, murmuring a final warning toward Thing. The Barzan oddity looked puzzled, but didn't appear offended as a suit not unlike a Tuxedo was thrown at him. He gracefully dodged it, just in time to see the door close behind his Human 'roommate'.

Inside the bedroom, Saul adored the beauty that was revealed to him. Naranda was so pretty in his eyes it was almost too hard to come closer and check if she was real.

By the time the door was shut, there was not a shred of fabric on her. She closed the gap between them and kissed him. Her hands softly ran down him sides to his hips.

His reaction, she felt down there, was immediate. Like a famished man at a royal feast, he grabbed her thighs and brought her even closer. He tilted his head so that he could kiss her cheek, and she felt beads of sweat form on his now naked torso.

She smiled as she could sense his hunger. There are some emotions so strong that any empath could sense them. Hell, any non-empath could sense them. But being what she was, she felt it deep within her mind his hunger and it made hers stronger. She pressed her body closer to his and her hands gripped his rear as she kissed his shoulders, then nipped at them, a small moan escaping her throat. Feeling his hardness against her, she felt a delicious tingle in her lower body.

He responded, with unusual savageness, and both whirled onto the bed. He rolled on his back, trying to battle the buttons which kept his pants on. If passion had a physical form, it would tear the buttons off.

Nara laughed and reached down to help him, her hands brushing his sensitive hardness. After the pants were done away with, she leaned down and kissed his chest, licking and sucking each nipple in turn before kissing down his belly and nibbling every inch of skin, being agonizingly slow to get where he most wanted her mouth.

She felt his back arc, and could imagine his eyes close shut with sheer pleasure that was almost too hard to bear. Her mouth kept working at him, hands massaging his balls gently. When she felt he was about to explode she suddenly stopped and sat up and just stared at him, smirking. He reacted faster that she anticipated, sitting up and then using the momentum to push himself toward her. Their bodies contacted, and this time it was she who found herself on her back, Saul's eyes a mere centimeter from her. Since he was taller than her, this did not add up... until she felt his right hand caressing her inner thigh in an upward motion. The motion became less soft and more rough the closer he got to the sweet moist junction between her thighs.

Her back arched now and she whimpered in anticipation, her breath quickening. She was dizzy with want as her legs spread wider and her hands reaching for him, nipping at his shoulder as her body writhed.

With a final squeeze he shifted to the left and upwards. She lost his brown eyes, but had no time to seek them again as he thrust himself into her. It was not slow or gentle like in the first times after they removed all the barriers; Instead, it was wild and full of lust. His lips fluttered on her brow as he moved ever forward, pinning her down against the disarrayed bed.

She moaned hungrily. encouraging him. Her legs wrapped high around him to emphasize that he should take her like she could tell he wanted to. She shuddered as the encasement of his left arm touched her bare skin, then the shivering became uncontrolled. Between the vibrations, she managed to get a glimpse of Saul and saw that he also reached his peak.

As the high slowly wore off, Nara released her grip on him and lay smiling and catching her breath, humming in contentment.

"I love you."

The simple declaration of affection was not something she got from Saul often. She looked up at him and reached her hand up to touch his face, "I love you too," and she leaned up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

* * *

Saul woke up precisely six hours later. Nara was lying on her back, wrapped in his blanket, fast asleep.

He observed her for a while. She did not seem repulsed by the encasment on his arm, but the words that were spoken could not be earased even by making love. She said she wanted to settle down on Sakaria. She said she felt self destructive after meeting Baile. She said things were too complicated. She said... she said she loved him. But that was her problem.

In the darkness, without a word, Saul Bental rose from the bed. Without a word, he set an alarm clock to twenty minutes from now, then slipped into a black duty jumpsuit. Once fully dressed, he sled his arms through the backpack's straps. He proceeded to his drawer, to silently pick up a standard issue phaser and his private Ion Pulse Pistol that lay in the hidden compartment.

Without a word, he bent over the bed, kissing Nara's exposed shoulder.

Without a word, Saul Bental left the room and went to war.

"Crackin Jewels" Part 5

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Chief Engineer
Ensign Sota - Systems Engineer (Written by Robert S)
Ambassador Turan Trelar - Civilian Engineering Trainee

***USS Galaxy, Deck 21, Engineering Laboratory, En rout to DS5***

Watching the Chief take Jamson aside Sota turned to Trelar and nodded to the small pink device, "Perhaps we should study the details of the findings to date?" he suggested as he scanned the PADD in his hand, "it might present some thoughts on possible avenues of investigation?" Though he already had some thoughts on what could be attempted next, fully reading the data collected so far seemed a logical start.

Spending a few moments doing just that Sota read through the details of the investigation to date. Just why it was so important to open a personal organizer when there were so many other important tasks to perform was a curiosity, however the Chief had directed them to explore possibilities, and it was not his place to question an order. One, Lieutenant Eshe outranked him, and two, even his Vulcan logic could find no reasonable argument to overcome the curiosity of the task, it was puzzling, and curiosity was a failing even Vulcans succumbed to.

The processing power of the ships main computer itself had been leant to the task at one point it seemed, and even that mighty computer with its FTL processors and massive array of knowledge had proven insufficient to the task at hand.

What was needed here he reasoned was a somewhat oblique approach. The encryption and internal security prevented you from simply reading the data unless you possessed the access code, one undoubtedly in the possession of the owner. Looking up whether someone had simply asked for the code he found a note appended to the file by Chief Malloy, and decided to look up later on just what the significance of sticking ones tongue out at someone actually 'meant' in Terran culture.

~ A truly strange species. ~ He decided.

Ignoring that line of thought for now he returned to his 'oblique' line of reasoning. Somewhere in the device was obviously the code, and standard scanning techniques weren't up to the task. From the randomization of the code during the regular scans it might be feasible that the device was not only encrypting the data, but shuffling the data packets around when it detected a scan to ensure that even if you did get a clear scan, the data would defy all logic because it was effectively scattered. Making no pattern readily recognizable.

~ Therefore, ~ Sota reasoned, ~ we need to scan the device in such a way that it does not know it is being scanned, and so theoretically get a clear scan of the data which may be amiable to code breaking. ~

Satisfied at the logic of the thought he paused the logs of previous attempts to open the small pink device and accessed the main computer. Two main avenues of inquiry were presenting themselves to him and he swiftly looked up relevant articles and files on the computer. Looking up briefly he spied Trelar engrossed in his own reading, debating for a moment whether or not to disturb him Sota left him to his own research, they could compare notes in a moment and discuss options.

Actually reading the encoded data would though only be the first step in accessing it, then the code itself would need to be broken. ~ One task at a time. ~ He reminded himself.

Mulling over his ideas for a moment and weighing up the pros and cons he failed utterly to notice the approach of the Chief Engineer, a serious oversight on his part. His superior hearing should have forewarned him, and his attention should have been divided as he normally did, this time though he was so engrossed in a quantum article he didn't even look up as Lieutenant Eshe paused before him and looked down at the PADD he was reading.

"How's it going Sota?" Dhani asked, adjusting herself so she could skim read the data on his padd.

Looking up he allowed himself the only form of surprise or reaction that most anyone ever got out of a Vulcan. He raised an eyebrow. "Lieutenant," he replied, "I assure you I am entirely focused on the task at hand. I was merely updating myself on some of the latest research in a field that may have an avenue of enquiry we might use."

"Very well." Dhanishta nodded, "And him?" she asked quieter indicating Turan who was at the other end of the table.

Looking over at Turan Sota left the eyebrow where it was and turned back, "He is, I believe, also looking up reference material." He said simply.

"I see." Dhani stated, "And what do you have for me?" she asked taking a seat nearby.

"Well Ma'am, I have two possible avenues we might pursue," he offered, deciding that she could best decide where to apply their resources. She was after all in charge. "The main problem appears to be one of obtaining a clear and concise scan of the device that would aid us in breaking the encryption lockout on the organizer. To do this I have been considering nanite infiltration to access the data from 'inside' as it were. The other is to use Quantum Ghost Imaging techniques to scan it without actually looking at it, so its internal security systems do not register a scan."

Dhani frowned softly, "And how do you believe that will help gain access to the device?" she asked.

"Well Ma'am, as I understand it you wish to gain access to the device to read the data it contains, the methods I am investigating should enable us to read the data without physically accessing it." At the look the Chief Engineer gave him he sat up and placed his PADD on the table and explained further. "The first proposal I have is to tailor a set of nanite infiltrators, they will be designed to enter the organizer and directly access the memory cells on the device, allowing us to read the data contained. If that does not work then the second is a little more complex, but it involves quantum ghost imaging. This technique has been used occasionally to defeat active scan blocks." He explained simply, not wanting to go into to much detail until he had completed further research.

Dhanishta repositioned herself on the chair, "Go on." She murmured settling herself.

"The quantum scan procedure will take several days to set up ma'am, and the equipment will require careful calibration. Essentially the proposal is to generate a quantum tunneling and imaging array. The scanner will consist of a quantum ring through which a chaotic scanner will emit a scan beam. The beam will pass through the quantum ring and each time it passes around the ring a small negative time displacement of 3.72x10^-10 seconds will occur due to Lorentz time dilation effect. The scanner will have to generate a coherent pair of entangled photons as part of the scan process with each burst."

Dhanishta nodded unsure of where he was going with this.

Checking the Chief's eyes had not glazed over Sota continued, he was aware that not everyone shared his fascination with quantum theory and occasionally his explanations left some people with more questions than answers, choosing to continue he decided brevity was called for. "In simplest terms ma'am, once the scan beam is emitted from the ring, the entangled photons split, one strikes a scan detector and this along with the scan wave provides us with a coherent quantum level scan of the organizer without actually interacting with the device. Also the scan data will arrive before the scan beam is emitted, therefore defeating any active scan blocks present on the device."

"So your saying that we should be able to read the data the device contains without having to directly open it?" she trailed off thinking for a moment. "It's a way of beating the system," she added with a hint of humor.

After a few moments she nodded, "I like it, devious and calculating," she smiled with satisfaction, "you got any other ideas?" she asked before she settled on just the one avenue.

Shaking his head Sota retrieved his PADD, "No ma'am, not as yet. These two ideas are my initial thoughts based on the investigation to date. The nanites would be an easier and swifter option, but they would be physically interacting the organizer, I believe the attempt would have a minimal chance of success. The quantum scan has a higher probability of yielding results, but would take several days to prepare and would require a substantial power consumption, not to mention a vast quantity of processing time on the main computer."

~Minimal?~ Dhanishta questioned silently, ~where's the decimal point in minimal? Gees!!~

"I agree." She replied, "Though I want you to work on both ideas. The quantum imaging may take a while, but I think it may be a way to go." Slapping her palm on the table enthusiastically she stood up, "Lets see what the other's have."

"Understood ma'am." Sota said simply.

Leaving the table Dhani looked up across the room to the other team, they appeared to be looking quite smug from where she was standing.

"Jamson," Dhani called out, "what have you got for me?"

"Silent Protest"

Ella Grey
Jarajen Quaaliu

****

The look of her face must have said it all.

"It is not a subject for debate, pilot", Jarajen offered while making the final adjustments to the life support systems on his flight suit. "This one believes that it is the best role for you."

"But I'm ready for this," Ella protested. She'd spent the last two nights working on her new vocal patch - conveniently placed on outside the throat for easy removal - and the result was functional if not pleasant sounding. There was an annoying crackle and pop with each word pronounced.

"That is not the issue, pilot."

"Look at my sims," The pilot replied. "I'm well within range of my targets, I'm flying the best I ever have, I ... don't the marines have their own pilots?"

"In a sense" the Nassari offered, securing the last of the oxygen lines. "The Major Shaw is most qualified, but seems to prefer fighting to flying - our loss. No, the Flight Officer must obey the order... she flies in support of the Marines, or not at all."

"I don't underst -," Ella started and then huffed out an exasperated breath. "Fine, if that's what you want." She turned on heel and tried not to stomp over to her locker. She couldn't, however, keep her hands from moving in front of her as she walked; it was a good thing her boss couldn't read sign language.

Jarajen stopped and looked down at the human female, understanding her anxiety. "Grey, this one understands how you feel - truly", he said in softer tones. "This is an important assignment, regardless of how the Flight Officer feels about it - the lives of hundreds of troopers will be significantly in her hands. This is a war, and if past experience is anything it will not end anytime soon." A wide grin spread across the Nassari's golden features. "The Flight Officer Grey's time against the Hydran-maj will be here sooner than she will know... or like."

Ella couldn't help but answer his grin with a small quirk of the lips but she was still disappointed. She had trained for the job, thought she was ready, and now it was being taken away. It stung. Still, she was trained as a pilot as well and was a pilot with medical knowledge and an ex-engineer to boot. She could see how she might be more useful to the marines.

Of course, it just *had* to be the marines.

"I'll bring them home, Sir," her broken voice replied.

"Talking to the Boss"

Lt. Jarajen Quaaliu, CAG
Flight Officer John Davidson

****
CAG's Office
****

John stood outside the CO's office awaiting his call to enter. Nervous wouldn't come close to defining how he felt. The knots in his stomach wouldn't leave as the minutes passed by, much like every time he tried to get close to stepping onto the hanger deck. John stopped pacing, realizing that it wasn't going to calm him down at all, and started leaning against the bulkhead instead.

He barely knew the CO, given both of them were fairly new to the Vanguards, and he didn't know how the CO was going to react to his fear of the hanger deck. While he had been told by the nurse that it was to be expected given that he had been in a serious crash in his fighter, JD wasn't sure that Quattro was going to accept it.They hadn't even been able to give him an estimate of when he might break free of the fear and that had worried JD more than the actual fear that he felt.

John straightened his uniform and stepped up to the door. It slide into the wall, allowing him entrance to the CO's office. He stepped in. 'Why couldn't it be that easy to step onto the hanger deck' he mused under his breath.

"Thank you for seeing me, Sir."

Quaaliu didn't immediately respond, looking up from his desk and taking a thorough look at the pilot. He even took a minute to take a long sip of the ink-black Nassari tea on his side-table before gesturing to the sole empty seat in the small office. "So, the Prodigal returns at last... this one is honored."

John had been called a great many things in his day, but that wasn't anywhere near the top of his list. In fact, he wasn't sure it was even on the list. Unsure how to take it, he shrugged. "Sorry sir, I've only just been able to get the confidence to step onto the hanger deck in the last couple of days or I would have been to see you sooner. "

"I... see", the Nassari said intones which stated otherwise. "So, pilot - when can this one expect your full involvement in your chosen profession. War is coming, and the Vanguards will be needed, yes?"

"Sir, I can't even look at a fighter at the moment or I break into a serious bout of the chills. I've tried everything. Drugs, hypnotherapy, herbal remedies and even a vulcan mind meld. Nothing helps. I know that I can come back from this, I just don't know when that might be."

Jarajen looked down at the padd containing the files on Davidson's accident, as well as the promising details of the young man's training. As frustrating as it was not to have the human recovered from his trauma, the Nassari knew that at some level it was probably worse for Davidson - though he couldn't quite relate as to why. The Captain had been specific that the pilot was to be given leeway, but the Hydran storm was about to break and one needed roots in addition to the ability to bend to the gale. "In the mean time the pilot spends time dispensing the spirits and liquored draughts in the fore lounge. Tell this one, Davidson... how have your fellow pilots reacted to this? More specifically, when their time comes to meet the Hydran-maj in pitched dogfights, in which manner will you wish them well - by joining them, or refilling their glasses if they survive?"

John looked down at his boss behind his desk. "I wish I could sir, but blind overpowering fear is not something that is easy to shake. All I've ever known is flying. It's all I live for and every minute I'm not out there is one more minute that I wish I could have over again. But the truth is, I can't. The shrinks and doctors couldn't help and it's just going to take time. As much as I wish I were out there, I know that until I can defeat the fear that has filled me, I can't do a damn thing about it." John thought about adding that while he was training, he'd spent some time working part time in a bar, but didn't think the situation really deemed that little gem of information important.

"This one is trying to be patient pilot, truly.. but", the CAG stumbled for words. Davidson was no coward based upon his record, but having the man swap pleasentries with the intoxicated wasn't in either man's best interest.

"Sir, I know, given time, I will be able to fly again, given that I can now finally after almost two months enter the hanger bay again, I just need time." John continued before he could say anything. "And before you tell me that we don't have any time, I know that, and I wish we did. I'll help any way I can. Perhaps some guidance for the junior guys. A little strategy and planning, but until I can sit in a fighter again, I'm not much use other than that. Unless you have something that I can do?"

The CAG stared at the pilot for what seemed like hours to Davidson, then slowly nodded. Both the Nassari's left arms reached back and brought back a set of padds. "Paperwork, Davidson - this one demands that while your comrades face the Hydran-maj in their patchwork starfighters, the least this pilot can do is perform their menial administrative tasks. Each form, every requisition for every flier."

John nodded solemnly. As much as he hated paperwork, he also knew it needed to be done, and if the boss was going to be on a mission, he was willing to help any way he could. "Yes sir."

"Pages of History"

Tarin Mercindal, Child

****
Outskirts of the main city
Tau Cygna
****

"Ninety Eight.... Ninety Nine.... One Hundred... Ready or not here I come." Tarin called out loudly. He was the unfortunate one to be "chosen" as the seeker this time. It seemed every second or third time was always his turn. And given how wide an area the other kids had to hide in, it was an unenviable task to try and find someone. Still he had to try and off he ran, looking in all manner of places for the other kids. Soldiers had been here a few days before, wearing strange face masks and outfits. But they were gone now. They had left in a hurry.

If it had been a couple of days ago, when the soldiers were all around, Tarin would never have been allowed to go out of the city, let alone his mama's place, but the soldiers were gone now and a somewhat normality had returned to the city. Tarin thought he heard a giggle coming from up the hill and headed that way, hoping to find the giggler. But when he reached the top, there was no one around. Just some empty cans and a few scraps of paper blowing in the wind.

He grabbed one of the pages and began to read the words written on it.

"It's nearly noon and we've had no food for three days now. The men seem to be holding up well, but I know it is only a matter of time before we start hallucinating, and slipping into the craziness that I've known several times to come to those that are starving. It's not even midday yet and already the heat is unbearable. Jenkins stripped down to his skivvies and tank top an hour ago, and despite my request for him to put his clothes back on, the rest of the men soon followed. I felt embarrassed at what the Ambassador might think, but lo and behold, a short time later she had taken off a layer of clothing too.

We have enough water to last another couple of days, but if the heat keeps up, we will likely run out sometime tomorrow morning. Private Blythe showed signs of dementia yesterday, no doubt brought on by the lack of food and the extreme heat. It was all we could do to given him some shelter and plenty of fluids.

"We need to get out of here; And fast!"

Further down the page, another couple of quick notes were scribbled:

"It's 1305 hours and a ship could be seen landing in the city. Even with my scope, I could not tell what kind of ship. The men are buoyed by the thought that it might be a Federation ship."

"1542: I wonder how the Breen are doing down at the base of the hill. We all know they have environmental suits to keep themselves at their required cold temperature, but I have to wonder just how much the heat is taking out of them."

Tarin was intrigued as to who had written the page and scrambled on the ground to get the other pages. He began reading them.

"I know it's a stupid idea given that it isn't likely that we will get out of here, but this morning I decided to start a small diary. It's 0730 on this, the... I don't actually know anymore just what the day is. In fact I know very little save that we are stuck on this hill, surrounded by Breen soldiers, and we ran out of food yesterday. As the day goes on, I'll see if I can add more to this, though God only knows who will ever read this.

We are running low on just about everything, but most especially food and ammo. If we don't catch a break soon, it is likely that we will be found up here all dead. I better make sure that the guys don't see this. I'd hate for them to lose hope. Hope is all they have to use to survive each day as it comes and goes.

Hope is what will get us out of here. Hope is what will win us our freedom from this awful planet. At least that's what I keep telling the men. That I don't believe a word of it makes no difference. As long as they do, we will survive for another couple of days or so."

Pushing that page to the back, Tarin read from the next page.

"It's almost 1600 hours now and Jenkins spotted two Breen soldiers heading to the city with weapons drawn. Whether it means that rescuers have arrived and the Breen are going to try and stop them or not doesn't matter. It brings fresh hope to the men. I can see the smiles on their faces. They believe that we will soon be rescued. I pray that it is the case."

Tarin was a little dejected when the rest of that page and the whole next page were blank. He feared that maybe something had happened to the man and that there was no more story. Flipping to the next page revealed that not to be the case.

"Fay, I don't know what is going to happen in the next few hours. Lord knows we have to try what we are about to try. I just wish we had not left things the way they were. Yes, I know that you don't love me, and never did, but that doesn't change the feeling I have for you. Even if I try and push them away given what you did to me.

I know no matter what happens here that we will never be together and I understand that you are unable to feel even an ounce of love towards anyone. I pity you for that. No matter what happens I know you will continue your sad excuse for a life, continuing to hurt those that care for you. It's your nature and you can't change that. Lord knows I thought you could. Good luck with whatever scheme you have cooked up for yourself now. It's probably just another crew member that you are taking for a power trip, but no matter what, I know you'll never feel any remorse or guilt. I doubt you ever could.

I don't know why I'm even thinking about you at a time like this. I wish I could just forget you and everything you did to me. I know I can't, but I wish that I could. Given the plan I outlined to the men earlier, I probably won't make it anyway so it won't matter much whether I recall every excruciating detail of our time together and the months apart."

Despite his young age, Tarin could see the truth behind the words to this "Fay". He was saddened at the thought of what the man must have been going through. Just as Tarin knew he'd be feeling the same if anything happened to his best friend Georgia.

"Another Breen just took off for the city. It was a worrying time and we all wondered if indeed someone was going to come and get us. The time is 1612 hours and the heat looks to be getting too much for our Tau Cygnian friend who is stuck with us. It doesn't bode well for us non natives."

Further down the page, after a scribbled out section was another entry.

"1730 hours. I just outlined a plan to the guys. The loss of three Breen soldiers around the base lead me to come up with a crazy plan. It'll likely fail, but if at least one of us manages to get away, it will be worth it. I'm going to detail the plan here but in essence, it is a very simple plan. Basically we are going to pack up what we need and charge towards the city, hoping to get past the remaining Breen and get to the shelter of the city streets where we hope to find transport off this rock and back to the rendezvous at Deep Space Five with the transport that was supposed to take the ambassador back to Earth. While it's not likely that it is still waiting, we have to try. It's likely that this is the last message I write, though I am tossing up whether to leave a note for the woman I can't let go of."

Tarin continued to read the entry. It basically spelt out a couple of things that he wanted known. About how he missed his friends on the Galaxy and that he had been thinking of them all to the end. That he wished he had had some time to get to know his father, and what he wanted done with his rifle should he not survive.

Flipping to the next page, Tarin began to read.

"It's nearly noon and we've had no food for three days now. The men seem to be holding up well, ..."

Tarin stopped. He had already read that page. "That can't be all of it." he sighed as he flipped through the pages again. Sitting down on a rock, his shoulders slumped. He was about to start walking home, given how much time he had been sitting there reading, when a flash of light caught his eye. Moving closer, he saw an empty metallic container. Upon closer inspection he could see the words 'Basic Marine Ration Supplements' written on the side. As he reached to pick it up, he saw another piece of paper under it.

Elated, be bent down to pick it up, but a gust of wind blew it away from his grasp. He watched it slip down a crack between two big rocks. He reached as hard as he could between them for the page, but could not get to it. After what seemed like ages, he finally admitted defeat and began the trek home.

As he walked home, Tarin didn't realize how few words were actually written on that solitary page.

"1820. We execute the plan in 5 minutes."

As to the fate of the writer, his 'men' or the ambassador, Tarin had no idea. He didn't think his mother would know, but then again, he doubted she'd want him reading the diary of the soldier and his men. He was going to have to hide the paper.

Many years later, a book was released by a Tau Cygnian entitled, "Surviving the Odds: The Story of Delta Three" in which a young gung-ho soldier risked his life and the lives of his men to save the princess from the clutches of the evil wizard in his cold suit. So Tarin embellished the truth a little. But then don't we all.

"First movement in C Major"
'Ancient Melody' Part 3

Lieutenant Miramon Terrik
Counseling Officer/Temporary Navigation Officer

Lieutenant Jarajen "Quattro" Quaaliu
CAG

Lieutenant JG Victor Krieghoff
Security Second

Lieutenant JG Valentina "Eve" Kyznetsova
Intelligence Officer - Technical Operations
Mission Specialist

Ensign John C. Richardson
Ph.D. Diplomatic Officer/Mission Security

Ensign Indrakshi
Intelligence Officer (Oded)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The craft's modules had been outfitted with passenger pods on the starboard and a special equipment pod on the port. The vessel and Quatro's fighter had been traveling at warp 6 since departing Galaxy, and they had another hour to go before reaching their destination. So far there had been no sign of any Triad forces, or much of any traffic for that matter. For now their sensors were in active scanning - while running at warp they might as well. Without a cloaking device they were plainly visible until they went sublight.

Val sat in the back of the runabout, perusing information on the listening post she'd downloaded to a secured PADD. There was little else she could do at the moment to pass time. Some were sleeping (or trying to) while others were crowded towards the front of the Runabout - Victor was also in the aft cabin, though Valentina never felt disquieted by his presence, unlike others.

All things considered, Victor decided, the mission was going better than he'd expected. Granted, he'd spent most of his time arranging to be at the opposite end of the runabout from the majority of the others to try and lessen the problem that he knew his presence created, but that was only to be expected. Besides, he wasn't, even after his century as Chulak, an exceptionally talkative person. He had remote-learning classes to work on, and memories of the good-bye kiss that Angelienia had given him as he boarded the runabout to recall warmly; that was certainly enough for anyone. Still?.

"I doubt that the information that you're reviewing has changed in the eleven minutes since you last accessed it, Lieutenant," he spoke up. "Did you not bring anything else to work on?"

Val shrugged. "I just keep getting the feeling that we're missing something. I came up with all of this myself, minus some input from LT Bental and a few others, but I can't shake the feeling that some thing's going to go wrong."

"Of course something will go wrong," Victor observed. "Something always goes wrong. Big, small, minor, major, there's always something that you overlooked, didn't know about, or what have you. You just need to learn to recognize that, allow some room in your planning for the unexpected, and then deal with it the best that you can when it happens." He shrugged. "But if you're positive there's something there you've missed, then try doing something else for a while and see if focusing on that will bring whatever it is that you're worrying about back around where you can see it."

[If one is expecting smooth sailing, one should not set voyage in a storm], Quattro's voice crackled over the shared frequency. [This is war... hope for the best, but accept the possibility of the worst. Thirty Terran minutes until we reach the target. This one suggests you make your final preparations.] Jarajen meant final equipment checks, but perhaps last regards to one's personal deities was also in order. He managed a small prayer to his household gods as he began a final systems check before coming out of warp.

In the meantime, Miramon was sat in the solitary pilot's chair in the cockpit, his deep blue eyes focusing on nothing in particular, his gaze simply directed towards the myriad inputs that were scattered across the control panels that compromised the majority of space around the walls of the runabout's interior. He was still somewhat annoyed that Saul could have volunteered him for a mission like this and then not had the decency to tag along himself, if for no other reason than to give him someone familiar to talk to, allowing him to break the tedium that he was feeling right now.

The only real challenge thus far had been simply re-acquainting himself with runabout systems and, of course, his own piloting skills, something he hadn't employed in over a year, since switching over to working for the counseling department. Say what you would for his ability to console people or offer them advice, he was still fairly certain he could handle a craft like this in his sleep. Which was probably something of a relief for him - when he'd first come aboard the runabout, he had been rather concerned about whether or not his abilities were getting rusty. So far everything had gone smoothly, though.

Since the Runabout itself was now on autopilot, while they were in warp, he really didn't need to sit there, so he stood up and heading over the replicator located to the back of the forward compartment, just inside the inner door that led into the rear of the runabout where it seemed the majority of the team were located. He curtly requested iced tea from the replicator, then stuck his head inside the rear compartment with a slight smile, just to see if the others were doing fine.

"Every thing's okay back here, I trust? We should be there soon, but so far, we're making good time and, something of a bonus, not being shot at. For the record, that's never happened to me before."

"You've never NOT been shot at?" Val inquired, a little surprised. A thought struck her; Miramon was the runabout's pilot. She flipped her eyes through a variety of vision modes until she found the one she wanted, then went back to the visual light spectrum. There was the three of them in the after cabin, two bodies in the compartment on the starboard flank module, and ... no one in the forward cabin. "Pardon me, sir, but do you think it's wise to leave the cockpit unmanned as we ARE passing through hostile territory? According to my internal chronometer, we have less than an hour till we're scheduled to drop from warp, as well."

Miramon fixed the human woman with a piercing stare which was rarely ever observed by anyone that knew the Bajoran particularly well. He held it for a moment, the only break in the simple intensity stemming from the words he spoke thereafter, although his tone this time was both cool and somewhat irritated, even though inwardly he had not taken any particular offense at her words. He just disliked being accused of being unprofessional.

"When we drop out of warp, it will be by my doing, not before. And, I assure you, I could be back at my seat and in full control of this craft long before any ship the sensors alerted us to ever had opportunity to do anything but watch the flare of my engines. Somehow, I'm not certain that standing up to grab a drink and check in on my shipmates constitutes abandoning my post."

"For regular piloting it's OK, but... you have to watch the sensors really
close," spoke a new voice.

Lali stepped out of the starboard compartment, rubbing her eyes. She spent the last hours lying on her back and gazing at the low ceiling, unable to sleep. A single thought repeated itself in the Indian Ensign's mind: 'If I fall asleep, there's a chance I would never wake up.'

She also suspected that the presence of the guy from security contributed to her unusual insomnia.

"No, this is what I consider regular piloting, Ensign. Only since joining Starfleet have I ever flown through territory considered friendly, so for me, regular flying isn't quite as laid back as it is for you. And, as it is, I've never been shot down yet," Miramon retorted, though his expression had switched from being annoyed to being slightly amused, more than likely a consequence of the Ensign's intervention and current aesthetic appearance, which frankly suggested (to the Counselor part of Miramon that wasn't really supposed to be on this mission) that she needed to relax a little. But, then again, he didn't know too many people who weren't on edge when engaged on covert ops missions.

"Although," Victor offered, "I'm of the same opinion as Lt. Terrik, if it will make the rest of you feel better, I'll be glad to swap over to piloting duties for a while and give him a break."

"Umm, no need, I'll - I'll go watch the sensors for a while." Lali murmured, her speech as disheveled as her hair. She tip-toed toward the cockpit, keeping as much distance between her and Krieghoff as possible.

The Bajoran watched her walk into the cockpit with a soft smile on his expression, stepping himself into the room to allow her to pass by him, and to give him a more direct entry into the room, rather than simply standing by the entrance. Once the ensign had passed him, he offered a soft snort of humour, his blue eyes flicking over to where Krieghoff was sitting.

"I think some body's intimidated by your reputation, Lieutenant. Still not going easy on the new people, are you?"

Lali sent an angered glare from the door. After Miramon left the briefing room, Saul implied that the Bajoran was a friend she could talk to if she felt bored or uneasy. Maybe on the Galaxy, she would enjoy his witty comments and try some of her own, but right now the usually upbeat Ensign just wanted this mission to be over and everyone else to stop joking about getting shot.

"As I explained earlier, it isn't a matter of 'going easy' on anyone," Victor replied. "Whatever it is that people feel when they're too close to me ? fear of some degree is by far the most response, but I've also encountered immediate homicidal impulses, anger, and a few others ? the reason for it isn't something that I can turn on or off. It's just there, and has been my entire life." He nodded towards the cockpit. "Based on past experience though, I'm not sure that teasing her about it when her reaction may well be something that's as much beyond her control as the reason for it is mine, is going to help matters."

"In my professional capacity, I would agree completely," Miramon noted softly. "I'm not certain what it is about you, Lieutenant, that achieves such a response, but it is a curious one, true enough. I won't concern myself with it at the moment, however. We have other work to do, right? You'll have to excuse me."

With that, the Bajoran turned around and strode back into the forward compartment with his typically confident stride, although it took very little time for him to move to where his chair was located, unoccupied still, though this time Ensign Indrakshi was sitting in one of the several seats available for support officers within the cockpit, keeping an eye on the sensors, if her purpose was the same as her word.

Lali frowned at him, them pointed at one of the mini displays at her post. It was a heavily modified sensors station, with several controls that even Miramon did not recognize.

"See this violet shadow? Hydran 'Acera' sweeper. Half a light year closer to the source and even the runabout's countermeasures wouldn't help, and this here is a passive subspace shift detector, you can see the ripples it makes. And the dotted strip that just appeared? It's a minefield right in our path..."

"Ours or theirs," Eve asked, stepping into the compartment on the tail end of Lali's statement. The information files had mentioned nothing about mines, though it was entirely possible someone had forgotten to log their emplacement.

[Theirs], came a curt response over the comm. Quattro's fighter, slightly ahead of the runabout, had picked up the field first and had determined its origins. [Unquestionably Hydran-maj, but intended for capital ships like the Galaxy. The density should not be much of a problem for craft our size, but this one has been negligent; is there anyone on the runabout with more piloting experience than the Lieutenant Terrik? This one needs to know... now.]

Val shook her head. "Terrik has the most experience. I'm capable of directly linking my mind to the computer via ODN interface. This would allow instant reactions, but I'm loath to do such a thing until I need to."

~This one should be shot~, the Nassari thought, chideing himself for the oversight. Inexperienced flier in a minefield... Bentall's plan was getting better by the parsec. [Very well... the Lieutenant Terrik will follow this one's course and heading when we near the field. A course will be plotted at quarter impulse when we near the field, and forwarded to your navcom. The Lieutenant Terrik - how many hours have you logged?]

"Well, I've been flying since the tender age of 16, so a few here and there," Miramon, now 34, noted in a somewhat sarcastic tone. As pilots went, he was usually less inclined to offer egotistical sentiments, but even so, he disliked anybody questioning his competence at the controls. "Would you recommend manual control for this, with your superior experience?"

"If it helps," Victor spoke up, "I have flight experience totaling over a thousand hours in craft approximately this size, or smaller." He almost mentioned how much of that was simulator time, but decided that wasn't anything that would bolster confidence, further considered his past for a moment, and then added quietly, "And I have extensive and up-to-date experience in navigating Dominion War-era minefields of Cardassian design."

[Then this one suggests the decision is what humans call a 'no brainer']. Jarajen couldn't help but smile in relief. [The Lieutenant Krieghoff should pilot the runabout.]

"If that was a joke, I'm not laughing," Miramon noted somewhat curtly. "As pilots go, I've logged a heck of a lot more hours, with due respect, Lieutenant. And the Hydrans are a lot more canny than the Cardassians - their tech doesn't have the same level of design flaws that you'd find otherwise. And happy though I'd be to kick back and let you fly this crate, Mr Krieghoff, I'd feel more comfortable having you at the weapons station."

[Less of a joke, and more of an order of reasonable logic], came the crackled reply. [The Lieutenant Krieghoff should fly - the sound of mindfield experience rings in this one's ears most musically, as it should in yours Lieutenant. Logged hours alone are admirable, but direct experience is preferable. We can discuss your hurt feelings at a more appropriate time, Mister Terrick.]

John Richardson groaned audibly, and the crew sitting inside the command module turned to face the Diplomatic Officer. While John was quickly gaining a reputation as one of Galaxy's most personable officers, at the present moment he looked more like an angry drill instructor than a calm Professor of Interplanetary Relations. His hands rested squarely on his hips, and the well-used fatigues Richardson wore still identified him as a Master Sergeant of Marines. John walked purposefully into the cockpit-area of the runabout, and for a moment his peers forgot that the man was the most "junior" member of the 'Ancient Melody' team.

"This is ridicules, people." Stated Richardson bluntly. "Are you professionals, or are we all here to see who can piss the farthest?" John looked at both Lieutenants Terrik and Kreighoff contemptuously. "Whichever of you two yahoos are more qualified to fly this machine, fly it. Last time I checked, though, Mr. Terrik is the only person on this mission to be the former chief navigator of a Galaxy-class vessel." John approached the intercom and tilted his head down slightly. "Is that qualification enough for you, Lieutenant Quaallu?"

[Such qualification is irrelevant], Jarajen offered calmly. [This is a small craft, not a Galaxy-class starship, and the Lieutenant Krieghoff was well recommended by the previous CAG. Still, if the Lieutenant Terrik has the confidence of the mission specialist as well as those on board the shuttle, this one will concede that he may continue in his present role despite his misgivings.]

"LT. Terrik has my confidence sir," Kyznetsova said. "I did recommend him for the position as it is. Mr Krieghoff shall operate as his co-pilot. Two heads are better than one." She looked around to see if anyone would debate the issue further. Thankfully, no one did.

"Interview with a cad."

Ensign Kallor - Security
Lt. Branwen London - Marine Corps

If Kallor felt nervous being onboard a new star ship, not to mention not knowing one person on board, he didn't show it. The truth was that he had never been afraid of new situations, in fact the prospect of all the new faces and relationships he had yet to experience leant his face a happy glow and a spring to his step.

Today he was doing his rounds of induction, stopping first to see a ships counsellor, then a doctor for a routine "welcome on board" medical examination. It was only after this that he would be joining his department in security and discovering who he would be working with.

He hoped there was a blond, he had a passion for brunettes and a redhead just sent him crazy, but a blond was always fun and this was what he lived for; anything else was far too serious. He supposed that he would also have to take professional stock of those he would be brushing shoulders with, but today he was in the mood for enjoying his new assignment and everything else could wait.

It was in this mood that he arrived for his appointment with Lt. Branwen London, a marines staff psychologist and the first of the hurdles he had to face that day. Pressing the buzzer he announced him-self and then entered the counsellors' office, a wide grin on his face. To his delight he found that Lt. London was an extremely attractive young woman not to mention a redhead which caused his grin to break into a flashing smile and his eyes to take on a new intensity.

"Ensign Kallor reporting for evaluation!" He said with vigour.

"My!" Bran smiled back as she gestured for him to sit. "Such enthusiasm. Usually I have to drag people in here to talk to me." Bran came to her feet and walked over towards him. "Branwen London."

"You can drag me anywhere you like honey, I'll come quietly." Kallor replied, a twinkle in his eye. He took the chair opposite her and crossed his legs, leaning back and surveying her critically; he could not deny that he liked what he saw. There was something both vulnerable and formidable about Branwen London and he liked a puzzle, especially one that was so easy on the eyes.

"So I'm here to have my brain picked?"

"You know that is not what we do." She smiled back. This young man seemed to be quite a charmer. "Basically or we will do today is get to know each other. And I will get an idea of your personality. If you have any problems you would like to discuss, feel free, but you don't have to do if you don't want to. I am not out to get you." She explained, like she did to all new people coming onboard.

"Well let's get started; do you prefer dinner out or in private, say for example in my quarters at 800 hours? I can't think of any better way of getting to know each other."

"I have a boyfriend. And I don't believe in seeing patients outside of therapy." She said. "It's for your own protection, so I cannot take advantage of you." Bran explained. This was not the kind of patient she encountered usually.

Kallor let out a long steady sigh and crossed his arms behind his head. It was always a disappointment to have to settle for a friendship instead of a romance, especially with the more attractive women he came across but, as he always reminded himself, a good friendship would often outlast the problems that a romantic attachment would not.

"You can take advantage of me any time you like Lieutenant, but I sense that I may have to bide my time...perhaps in the meantime we could get to know each other and you could introduce this boyfriend of yours. I'm new on this boat and I'd appreciate a few friendly faces being around when I go for a drink. There you go, first observation of the day for Ensign Kallor: He's a needy type who must make friends with a person as soon as he's said 'Hello' for his own peace of mind." He laughed and raised his eyebrows at her.

"After having made a pass at his superior officer of course!"

"You didn't!" Branwen couldn't help but laugh. "Tell me you didn't really make a pass at your superior officer. Maybe that is something we need to discuss in therapy, your need to charm new people you meet." She was beginning to feel a little bit more comfortable around this strange man.

"Call it habit Lieutenant! So what can I tell you about Ensign Kallor?" He said with a twinkle in his eye. "I warn you, don't delve too deep, I wouldn't want to scar anybody with my sworded past."

"It's my job to find out about your sordid past." She smiled back at him. "Why don't you start with telling me more about yourself. Anything you feel comfortable with. And if you have any concerns of problems you want to discuss with me, please feel free. That's why I am here." She leaned forward to listen to him.

"An opportunity to talk about my self...well what can I say? I'm a chap with an eye to getting through life as easily as possible but I was cursed with a brain and a need to do the "right thing." So here I am in Starfleet, a place I would never have seen my-self, talking about who I am. I suppose what you really want to know is whether I am happy, well adjusted and ready to start work; I think I can quite confidently tell you that I am ship-shape and ready to sail...but I would have been a lot happier if you'd had a drink with me." He grinned and held a hand up to prevent her replying. "Before you tell me that I have a weakness for beautiful women I'll hold up my hands and admit to the sordid truth, but I would far rather have my head turned by beauty than by some deep rooted insecurity that made me take out my phaser one day and execute the crew!"

This went on for a while. Branwen began to feel more comfortable in his company. Not that long ago she would have been mortified, and probably send him away to talk to somebody else. It was strange to notice that she was changing.

"Well ensign." She said half an hour later, "I can certify you as sane, for now. But I don't want to hear any complaints about womanising, your hear me. Otherwise we are going to have a couple of serious talks about etiquette. Now get out of here!" The marine shrink ordered him.

Kallor left feeling that he had conducted himself with perfect sincerity and in doing so had gained himself a friendly acquaintance, admittedly one who was not going to allow him to charm her beyond a certain point, but he wouldn't let a little thing like that stand in the way of a good friendship!

"A Rare Beauty Indeed"

Flight Officer John Davidson, Fighter Pilot

****
Vanguard Hanger Deck
USS Galaxy
****

"The Kahs-wan" Part Five

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe Chief Engineer USS Galaxy
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe Engineering Officer USS Galaxy

(With excerpts from "What goes unsaid between Blood" aired in mission "Barbarians at the Gates Pt 1")

*** Vulcana Regnar in the province of Raal, Vulcan. Day One***

Dhanishta looked mortified, "What_did_you_do_Kala?" she asked in a low voice that wavered on dangerous.

"I went looking for answers, *that's* what I did." Kala returned defiantly with a touch of indigence. "*You* weren't talking!" Her voice rose, "Hell," she fumed slamming her fists to her sides, "we have barley had a conversation that didn't revolve around work since I came back!"

Her gaze leveled at Dhanishta, a glimmer of pain concealed behind the front of anger, "You have been hiding *everything*," her voice suddenly strained, caught on a lump that materialized in her throat unexpectedly, "even from *me*." she finished hoarsely slapping her palm to her chest.

She held Dhanishtas gaze until she could no longer maintain her resolve. Moisture gathered in her eyes like pools on a tarpaulin in a rain storm on Frenginar. She looked away, wrestling with the sorrow that tried to undermine her righteous anger.

Silence extended the distance between them; even the land fell abruptly quiet. The Vulture that had been circling above, seemingly waiting to pick the remaining flesh from their bones once they had finished wounding each other with words and moved on to more damaging tactics, flew off in search of more willing prey. The gentle breeze that had been continuous since they beamed down ceased, the heat seemed to double in that moment as the emotion heightened, the tension tripled. The baked earth spewed forth surplus heat from within, mirroring the twins that stood within its transparent mist. It shimmered like a forcefield, ebbed and flowed like the currents in a river, distorting perceptions.

"You know what I found?" Kala's voice interjected crisper than before, more controlled in its delivery.

Dhanishta closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. She took a step back from her sister, turning slightly from her as she did. Her eyes cast out over the fields of sand, the rolling hills in the distance and the dunes scattered beneath. But her vision never fully focused on them, it turned within; for the first time in a long time she felt truly isolated, alone and caged. The one person in this universe she thought she could trust the most, rely upon without doubt or retribution, just threw up a scorpion tail.

"I found a message Nishta." Kala whispered insidiously, "A message to me, mom and dad," she paused deliberately. "From you." she finished taking a poignant step forward.

Dhanishta felt a cold chill rise the fine hairs across her body making her insides quiver. Her closed eyelids tightened, "You didn't?" she whispered hurt.

Kala let out a mocking laugh, "You bet your ass I did!" she hissed lurching forward in an accusatory manner.

***Flash back***

***USS Galaxy, Deck 8, Crew Quarters***

(Set 14 hours after "Perhaps Three!" twenty minutes prior to Romulan Weirdness!)

*-^-"Access to personal log denied."-^- The computer chirped.*

"Yeah, yeah?" Kala mumbled as she began to type in a decryption code, "?not for long!" Kala had vowed to herself that she would find out what was going on with Dhanishta. Nish wasn't well known for being one to share emotions; even now that she apparently felt them. So, there were other ways of finding out what was going on?*

Kala stretched as she sat at the desk, scratching her cheek she reached out for her cooling coffee. Savoring the taste as it slid down her throat, warming her insides. She scanned the screen over the rim of her mug, careful not to spill a drop as she craned her neck in order to review the information. Nishta was not one for recording personal logs; her diary was like reading an activity schedule!

"There has to be something more personal here," Kala mumbled to herself, "I cant believe that you would just? A-ha!" she exclaimed, "What's this then?"

Rubbing her hands together, a faint glint of glee in her eyes, she leaned forward in her chair and smiled, "Computer play message titled 'to my family.'" Kala instructed.

The screen flickered for a moment before displaying an image of Dhanishta. Kala frowned, leaned in closer to the screen; Dhanishta looked so pale and thin, her eyes appeared saddened, troubled and laden with guilt. For a moment the room was silent, even Kala's breathing stilled as she was mesmerized by the image before her.

*["I really didn't want to start this with a clich?,"]* Nishta's voice announced, echoing slightly in the darkened apartment, *["but, if you are watching this, or listening, or however this thing works, then I am truly dead. I don't think there is a way of coming back from this one."]* Kala noted how the corners of Nishta's lips curled ever so slightly, the lift in her tone indicated that she was attempting to be humorous, though with an opening line like that one, it was difficult to find the funny side. She frowned at the attempt; it wasn't her sister's style.

*["I have never done this before, but I am sure you are well aware of that, seeing as if I had you would have seen it at least five times." she frowned slightly and then shrugged as if dismissing a thought.] *Kala's frown deepened, mirroring her twin on the screen. She stared pensively, trying to work out what was going through her siblings mind.**

*["To be honest I never really thought this was important, maybe I thought I was impervious to harm, I don't know." she shifted in the chair "Maybe it's because we never really spoke about anything, ever. So it just didn't seem right." Her eyes cast to the floor.] *Kala nodded at that. It was true of their parents she supposed. They weren't known for unexpected visits, or wide open welcoming arms if they did. But the two of them, they could talk about anything, couldn't they?**

*["I know that that's not changed, but I have. So many things are different now, and what I find really hard is that I don't have the time to explain it all to you, and I know that I should." She rested her head on her knees for a moment, "I should have spent more time with you on Trill." she confessed glumly. "I should have taken the time to tell you about my life, about me, about everything that happened." Her eyes misted, "But I didn't." her voice wavered and broke as a tear slipped down her face.]*

Kala's forehead began to ach with the strain of frowning. Her brow furrowed more with each sentence her sister uttered. Raising her eyebrows she attempted to alleviate the discomfort, additional resources were needed in the form of a hand and massaging fingers. Of all the emotions Kala had seen Dhanishta display, remorse wasn't one of them. She was confused by the display, even more so by the fact that it was not an act.

*["I ran. Just like I run from everything; I know what you're thinking dad, 'my little girl doesn't run from anything'" Dhanishta imitated a male voice through her tears, "but I do and I have. And I wish right now that I could run from this. The Hydran are coming. They have already taken down the Romulan Second Gale and three of the outlying worlds. And I am scared?" her voice pitched as she began to sob.]*

Kala's head tilted to one side like a curious puppy. ~I didn't think you were scared of anything?~ she thought scathingly. She felt disconnected from the sobbing image, never before had she seen such anguish, such emotion pouring from her sister. It was like watching a Terran movie of old, unrealistic and heavily dramatised.

Part of her felt bitter; Nishta was the apple of their father's eye. Her gaze narrowed on the image on the screen, wanting nothing more than to mock the relationship between Nishta and her father, for it was something she was extremely jealous of. She knew that if he saw this recording he would be devastated, it was as if Nishta played on that fact; it drove a dagger into Kala's heart.

*["I'm so scared daddy!" she let out through hiccups of tears, "And I just wish you were here to tell me that everything is going to be all right. I just want you to?" she broke off burying her face into her knees.]*

Kala snorted and raised an eyebrow, Nishta always needed saving, time and again she thought with distain. She was so exhausted with waiting for the next time, with the knowledge that there was going to be a next time, and with the pain that even though she stood with her arms out stretched; she felt angered at having to do so. That shouldn't be how it goes? ~she's my sister..~

She shook her head with irritation, finger resting on the 'stop' button. She knew this was an invasion of privacy, and if Nishta found out there would be hell to pay. She sighed with frustration as Dhanishtas soft murmurings flowed throughout the room. Tapping her finger gently she contemplated turning off the recording. Resigning to that decision, she raised her index finger?

*["I remember parts of the coma." Dhanishta admitted quietly. Taking a deep breath she lifted her head and leaned back in the chair, letting it bounce with her weight.]*

? and stopped, her finger hung in the air, wavering slightly as Dhanishtas words penetrated her ears.

["*I remember? everything."]*

Problems and Surprise

Jaal Jaxom
Aina Mason
June M'Kantu
Thyago Carneiro

==DS5, Lower Decks==

Away from the throng of civilian survivors, Jaal huddled together the two women who had been indespensible since this whole mess started. "All right ladies, we know they're coming back for us. What I've set up, if you haven't noticed it already, is a way to wipe the computer core of the station. In case something happens to me, I want the two of you to know how to proceed too. All it will take at this point is one command code. Once that's entered, we'll have a ninety minute silent countdown. Once the core is wiped, the containment field in the power generation section will let loose. I don't need to explain to what happens then. That's why it's imperative that we wait until the last possible moment."

Aina just nodded, things were going to get very rough for the Hydrans when the computer core failed.

June frowned, and then shrugged. Not the way that she would have done it, but certainly effective. "What's to prevent them from stopping the containment drop?"

Jaal continued, "Once the command code is entered, several things will happen to keep the Hydrans upstairs too busy to notice core being wiped... with any luck they'll be too busy dealing with the replicators puking popcorn and the displays showing Orion porn vidoes to worry about anything else."

"Might I suggest another thing, Captain?" asked Aina.

"Of course," the Trill told her. Admittedly, where he ended up next, Jaal wanted to take Aina with him. Her skills in manipulating data resources and staying relatively calm considering the circumstances was well proven.

"Might I suggest we play with the gravity emitter plates. Definitely play merry hell, with any of them over-riding the power core containment loss. Doesn't matter if they have experience in free fall, try working in an environment if you have to work in an erratic G."

"Oh yeah," Jaal smiled, "We won't forget that. Bet on it."

June considered that for a moment. "I think that we ought to also set the station's computer cores - both the primary and the backup - to eject and self-destruct as well. That way, even if there is a Hydran engineer that is trained on Federation system and multi-gravity variance operations... and can ignore your visual distractions... we'll still render the station inert and deny them any more information from the cores."

Aina nodded, "I'm not sure about the ejection - stations cores are usually near the centre." She shrugged, "But we can blow the cores - and in case, I can set up a worm to attack the cochrane field around the core processor system. If they can stop it, the core memory will just be garbage from total field blowout...

Her comment was interrupted by the opening gasp pneumatic doors and the conversation that flowed in from outside, "--off, dude! Seriously, stop sniffing my hair, its creepy," Thyago said as he barged into the room. Behind him was a large, hunch-backed, snaggle-toothed, mouse-like creature, who seemed quite crestfallen by the Brazilian's rejections. "Oh, there you guys are."

"Thyago? Ewwww - what is that?" called out Aina.

"I've been looking for you," Thyago said. "The guys down in the hospital area are getting a little anxious, what with some ship coming and then running away, sacou? Everyone's yelling--"

"BAAAAAAAAN!" the hunch-backed mouse-like creature screamed.

"Yeah, its getting pretty bad. I think they might start fighting. I thought you should know, mano."

Jaal's eyes narrowed, "Sounds like trouble. I figured this would happen sooner or later." He rose up to his full height pointing to a few other officers around, "You, you, and Carneiro... with me," he looked back to June and Aina, "You two stay here and think of some more devious things we can do. I'll be right back."

Aina and June looked at each other as Thyago and the other two officer followed Jaal as the mouse like creature gave Aina a quick sniff and with a wrinkled nose of obvious distaste, screamed "BAAAAAAAAN!" and ran off to be with Thyago.

"Feelings mutual," muttered Aina under her breath as the two women discussed the next steps in making sure that the station and the shipyard outside the station would not fall in enemy hands.

"The Kahs-wan" Part Six

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe Chief Engineer USS Galaxy
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe Engineering Officer USS Galaxy

(With excerpts from "What goes unsaid between Blood" aired in mission "Barbarians at the Gates Pt 1")

***Continuation of Flash back***

["*I remember? everything."]*

That one sentence hit her like a Starship in full warp. Her jaw gapped open, her eyes glazed over, a wave of heat erupted within, churning her stomach and suddenly she felt bloated with gas. Her chest panged, swelled and then tightened. Just like in those movies of old the rising drama caught you off guard and suddenly you felt that pain imitated on the screen, connected with the character and sympathised with their turmoil.

Yet this wasn't a character dramatisation, this wasn't some cheesy script thought up by a boozed up to the eyeballs one hit wonder, in some seedy bar on an out lying world, this was real.

She felt her body stiffen, and just as quickly as the heat had filled her a chill replaced it. Her hands turned to ice and she felt them begin to shake.

*[Wiping her nose on the back of her hand Dhanishta sat up, letting her knees fall to the side, to rest on the arms of the swivel chair. "I remember when Kala came into my mind to try and save me. I remember the things I saw when Death tried to take me. And I remember you mom, telling me that you loved me. I could taste you tears." Her face broke again tears welling in here eyes so that she couldn't see properly.]*

Kala felt a ripple of guilt pummel through her. She shook her head with disbelief, hearing the words yet not able to comprehend them. Her chin began to wobble slightly. Her mind clouded as she tried to understand what that really meant. ~She remembers me..~ Kala's thoughts trailed off, refocused on the screen as the recording continued.

*["I remember how hard it was for you to say those things to me. And I screamed out for you." Another tear slipped down her cheek. But she didn't wipe it away. She let it run, along with her nose. "I screamed out to you, with my mind and I know that you heard me." she protested to the air.]*

With Nishta's forceful declaration Kala felt her nose sting and her eyes begin to well and before she could stop them tears fell. She turned her face from the screen feeling a lump rising in her throat. ~I remember that~ she choked out in her mind. The memories of her time on Trill, pleading for her sister's life resurfaced without warning. How her parents could have been so brutal she didn't know. She sat back in the chair, hoisting her knees to her stomach and hugging them tightly, rocking back and forth gently fighting with the emotions and memories that swirled within like a tornado, unrelenting and unyielding.

*["But when I woke up you were all so shocked. It didn't seem fair to tell you then. And it's even more unfair that I'm telling you now. But I have to." She sat up straight an urgency overcoming her.]*

Kala's eyes darted to the screen. Confused she blinked back her tears, focused on her sister, "What?" she asked aloud in a croaky voice.

*["Mom you need to know this." She stared at the screen of the console, grabbing the desk she pulled herself closer to it, "I forgive you, for everything. And I love you too."]*

Instantly Kala retreated from the zoom in of Nishta's face on the screen. Her mind a frenzy with questions, "Forgive her?" she frowned, "For what Nishta? For what?" she implored the recording slapping her palm on the desk.

*[She stared harder, "I mean that. I love you mom." she stated again. Reaching out she placed her finger tips on the screen. A meek smile crossed her face. "So many things go unsaid between blood." she said cryptically. "But sometimes when you think that the other person knows how you feel about them, they don't. Not really. It needs to be said. And I should have said it a long time ago."]*

Kala's head bobbed in agreement, still confused by the declaration of forgiveness. She wiped the stream of tears from her face and her nose on the back of her hand, sighing deeply, cursing the amount of questions she now had in comparison to answers.

*["Kala, what you did for me, when I fell into a coma. Coming here to my ship and trying to get me out of it. Taking me to Trill and staying by my side for all that time. Putting you life on hold for *me*. Watching me ?dying." she swallowed hard. "I don't know what that must have done to you?]*

A wave of anger filled her suddenly, "It almost killed me that's what it did!" she screamed out furiously, her tears momentarily halted.

*["? And I am so sorry for putting you through it. I wish that I could say hand on heart that I would do the same for you, I am the older sibling, if only by minutes. I wish that I could say honestly that I look out for you as much as you do for me. But you have never given me the opportunity to." She half laughed, a small smile flittered on her lips. "Kala I love you, for everything. For being my sister. For holding my hand through what could only have been turmoil for you. Your blood runs through me, as mine through you and I can always feel your watchful eye, hear your words, feel your embrace and I do love you. More than anything. Without you I wouldn't be here."]*

Tears fell from her eyes unabated she shook her head and reached out to slap the screen, "I love you too you stupid petaq!" she retorted, swallowing hard.

*["It needs to be said - thank you." "I love all of you." Dhanishta uttered before tears overwhelmed her once more.]*

Kala instantly reached out to the screen to wipe Nishta's tears away, but her fingers just bounced off the image, reminding her that once again she hadn't been there when she should have.

The lump in her throat swelled. She wiped the moisture from her cheeks yet more tears flowed. She pushed herself away from the desk, wishing that she could push the emptiness she felt inside away just as easily. She had wanted to find answers; she wanted to know the truth, what was at the heart of her sister's personality shift. But she hadn't prepared, she hadn't realised that the answer had the potential to be life changing. She looked down to the floor, staring at it with misted eyes. ~how could I be so selfish?~ she asked herself as another tear splashed to the floor, "Why did you keep this from me Nish?" she asked aloud, "WHY?" her voice was ragged and strained as she shouted at the empty room.**

***End Flashback***

*** Vulcana Regnar in the province of Raal, Vulcan. Day One***

That same question raged out of Kala as she stood before Dhanishta. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" she screamed with fury spittle flying from her mouth.

"I couldn't?" Dhanishta tried to defend herself still staring out across the sand dunes.

"What?" Kala screamed in anger, "You couldn't tell me then, but you could leave it in your last will and testament. You think that's fair?" Kala asked in anger, "You're quite prepared to dump all that on us after you have died but you can't talk to me when you're alive is that it?" Kala yelled.

"It wasn't like that?" Dhanishta protested, tears filling her eyes. Everything was falling apart around her and she felt so helpless. She begged that time could just stand still, that she might rewind it, or just wipe it and start all over again.

"Well then tell me what it was like!" Kala demanded her nostrils flaring.

Dhanishta just shook her head. What could she say? What should she say? Should she tell Kala exactly what it was like to be dead, to be free of this world and its constraints? To be away from accusation and pain. To feel contentment and acceptance that she had never felt in life? How could one even begin to describe all that?

"That's not an answer Nishta!" Kala shouted reaching out and spinning Dhanishta round to face her. Her eyes bored holes through her sibling, demanding and unrelenting.

Dhanishta's eyes searched the ground, her face contorted between grief and anger. "You want to know what it was like?" she finally shouted back, "You really want to know what it was like to be dead? To be dragged back from that, to have to die again, to kill yourself TWICE, to then fall into a coma and feel that private space invaded, to then challenge death, to fight to live when the world wants you gone?" she screamed back tears lining her reddened cheeks.

"YES!" Kala roared. "I want you to talk to me Nishta, like you always did." Anger poured from her unabated. She felt her body shake with a mixture of adrenaline and emotion.

Dhanishta bit her lip, pushing through the expressions till she found one that would let her speak without breaking, "I hated it." she confessed her eyes narrowing.

"Well that's good." Kala interjected forcefully, somewhat relieved. Her posture relaxed some, now that she felt she was finally getting somewhere.

"No." Dhanishta replied, "I hated coming back."

Kala blinked, stunned, "You what?" she questioned her anger dissipating to be replaced with mild revulsion.

"I_hated_coming_back!" Dhanishta stated again her eyes locking on to Kala's with a steely resolve.

"There's No Overtime In War"

SCPO. Renora Loret - Tactical Analyst
Ens. T'Liera - Applied Tactics & Fighter Control (NPC)
CPO. Alexander Doringham - Chief Rocketman (NPC)
PO1. Timothy "Terror" Mirapoints - Phaser Weaponry (NPC)
PO2. Matthew Wiggums IV - Chief Torpedoman (NPC)

Tactical Control Suite

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

Renora yawned and walked over to he replicator. Leaning against the wall she spoke into the unit. "One large, sweet, Deka tea and a portion of Kava nuts." The food was duly materialized and she plucked the mug from the serving hatch and, holding it in both hands, inhaled the aroma before taking a long sip.

She'd been on the go for...she didn't even know how long. Seconds, minutes, hours, days these were all just abstract concepts to her now, and she wasn't the only one.

The plan had come down from the bridge and everyone was working flat out to make sure everything was taken care of. Speed was of the essence as the longer they left it the more likely it was the Hydrans could recover and reinforce.

Her tunic was partially unzipped, her hair tangled and disheveled and her mind fuzzy but they still had a job to do and she was going to see it through to the end, whatever that end might entail.

She walked back over to the main fray of the suite and learned over Matthew's shoulder. "How're we doing?" She asked the young torpedoman.

"You want the good news or the bad news, Chief?" He said turning from his console and pinching the bridge of his nose, the long hours staring at a screen taking their toll.

"Better have the bad news first. What's wrong?"

"We took quite a few shakes in that last fight with the Hydrans. Nothing is too badly damaged but launchers two and six have been knocked slightly out of alignment. I think we've got it sorted, engineering are down there now, but we've no idea how long it's going to take. We could risk it but..."

"...we don't want to blow a hole in our own hull." Renora finished for him. "After all, it's far more sporting to let the Hydrans do it." She ran her hand over her face. "So what's the good news?"

"The good news is there is no more bad news." He said with a weary smile.

"Good enough for me, let's try and keep it that way." She patted the man on the back and strolled, still drinking, over to another one of the crew. "Terror, how're things in the land of high energy discharges?"

"Everything seems to check out so far, Chief. We've tried to get a little extra power diverted from non-essential, non-combat systems to try and get a little more laser for our latinum. We'll need it to get through the Hydran shields, especially if we're having to take out boarders and starfighters."

Renora nodded. "Well, let's concentrate on the capital ships and the station, we've got our own starfighters as well don't forget. We don't want to be spread too thin, it's bad enough we'll be separating the saucer section." She glanced down at the console. "Did you get the Hydran IFF codes put into the system?"

"Yep and Chief Doringham is around here some where making sure the rocket drones have got our codes in them." Tim glanced over the Renora's shoulder. "Here he comes now actually."

"Drones are as ready as they can be." He said handing a PADD to Renora. "Engineering said that they might not fly straight and true but they will emit our IFF codes and confuse their weapons and targeting systems."

"Good. It doesn't matter is they don't fly right, they're only an ablative measure anyway."

"That's what we thought. Oh and Ensign T'Liera is coming down, she just wants to make sure the fighters are not forgotten."

"Okay, thanks Alex. Can you go and help Matt with his torpedo problems, I think he could use an extra pair of eyes." Renora nodded in the direction of the incresingly frustrated Matt Wiggums.

"Sure thing."

Renora turned back towards the centre of the room and set her mug of tea down to one side, she'd been talking for so long it had gone cold. She popped a Kava nut into her mouth and bit down onto it. She'd always loved the taste of these, most people did...even the Vorta!

"Chief Renora." A voice came from behind her, she turned and saw it was Ensign T'Liera.

"Ah, I heard you we're coming down. How are our fly-boys?"

T'Liera didn't smile...Vulcans never did. "They are at optimum functionality Chief. Lieutenant Quaaliu said that his crew were ready for anything."

"Excellent." Although Renora knew that that statement smacked of bravado. "I assume that they have got all the IFF codes put in correctly. We don't want them targeting our own drones and we don't want to be shooting them."

"I believe that all appropriate amendments to the flight systems have been made correctly, yes."

"Good. Otherwise the Captain will have Rex's guts for garters and Quaaliu's crown jewels for cuff links."

"I don't follow..." The Vulcan asked, slightly confused.

Renora shook her head. "No...no I don't suppose you do. It's not important anyway." Renora leaned in towards T'Liera. "What about the station, are we just leaving it in the hands of the Hydrans?"

"For the moment, yes. Command will try to activate the self destruct system by remote but, if that fails..."

"...we don't have the fire power to destroy it. Oh, what I would give for half a dozen tri-cobalt torpedoes right now." Renora moaned.

"It would certainly increase our damage output potential." T'Liera agreed.

Renora munched another nut. "Okay, well I won't detain you any longer. I'll let you get the flight vectors planned and approved. Good luck."

Renora dipped into the bag and found it empty. She screwed it up and threw it onto the floor. A little bit of litter was the least of their problems right now...

"Waiting"

Ensign Sharzhevashi zh'Rin
and Cadet Artemis Bancroft

***

A person accustomed to flying high performance space vehicles at the limits of their tolerance generally does not take well with being forced to sit idle, to wait. Sharzhevashi zh'Rin had never been at the controls of a high performance space vehicle, though she would not object to such an endeavor. Her experiences ranged from sublight shuttles and an aged Excelsior training ship that could only reach warp two with a strong subspace current at her back. Of course, she had piloted a starship much faster in simulations, but, even with the best holography available, it was still a simulation.

Once again, she churned the regrets over in her mind. She should have contacted her bondmates when the chance was available to her. She should have contacted her sister. There was a hope that Starfleet would send in a ship to stage a rescue, but it seemed a slim hope as Shi gazed out into the emptiness of space, broken up by the Hydran patrols.

The waiting was the worst part.

"Mind if I sit by you?"

Shi looked up to find the young Vulcan cadet standing over her. Her hair was falling into her face and her eyes showed fatigue. The guitar was slung over her back, as it had been from the moment she had come across the girl in the Jeffries Tube.

"Of course." Shi gestured to the space next to her. "How are you doing, Artemis?"

"Fine I guess." Settling the guitar across her knee, the cadet began to coax a tune from the instrument. "I don't like just sitting here. I should be doing something, but no one gives me anything to do. They see the bloody cadet's pin on my collar, and assume I don't know what I'm about."

Sharzhevashi smiled. "There is little to do on a station for a flight control officer to do either," she said. "There is talk we may be rescued."

"I saw the ship pop in," said Artemis. "They warped out pretty quick though. Suppose they'll bring the fleet back to re-take the station?"

With a shrug, Shi glanced back out as the Hydran ships continued their silent patrol. "I do not know. I anticipate Starfleet resources are stretched thin, and they lack the ships to stage a full-scale rescue. They will send what they are able."

"We're safe enough down here," said Artemis. "I mean, the Hydrans aren't on to us yet. We're in bad if they pop down to see what's happening here though."

"We have sentries in place. We will receive a warning if they attack." She wished she felt as confident. Their band of survivors lacked the resources to mount any real defense against the Hydrans. They only had the aliens' arrogance to shield them. As long as they thought there was nothing worthwhile here, they would be safe. Or as safe as they could be.

"Feels a lot like the time the Solstice was out of power and we were surrounded by Jotha ships," said Artemis. She looked like she was about to say more, but quickly changed tunes on the guitar and bit her lip.

Shi raised an eyebrow. "Jotha?"

Looking uncomfortable, Artemis took several moments before answering. "Gamma quadrant aliens. They're kind of like the Breen, actually. I think the Breen nicked their energy draining weapon from them. It's a long story."

"We appear to have time," said Shi. "Unless there is a rescue attempt, I suspect we will have little excitement around here."

"Trust me," said Artemis, "my stories aren't exciting. They're boring, actually. And I was just a kid for most of it. Probably not even remembering half of it right."

The Vulcan cadet did not wish to speak of her past, so Shi was content to let the subject change. The girl was strange with her secrets, though there was a very noticeable frustration beneath the surface. It was as if she wished to speak of what she knew, but held back.

"Hey, I think I'm going to see if they still have some food," said Artemis. "You want any?"

"No thank you," said Shi. "Thank you for the offer, Artemis."

With the world seeming to rest on her shoulders, as only a teenager could carry the world's weight, Artemis Bancroft slipped off. Shi watched her go, then turned back to watch the Hydran ships.

Crawling across the expanse of stars, they moved with deliberate aggressiveness. They were ready for an attack, but would they be prepared for the plan that was being hatched? Would they rely on the data they themselves had sabotaged once?

Soon, the battle would begin. Within DS5, the survivors could only sit and wait. With thoughts shifting from her bondmates, sister and parents, to the young Vulcan cadet sitting moodily across the room, and to Thyago, the strange engineer who seemed to be the only person in the midst of the crisis to seem as if he might possibly could be considered a friend.

And yet, as she stood surrounded by all of the other survivors, Shi had never felt more alone in her life. She could be floating freely in space, a mote adrift in infinity. Surrounded by a nothingness so vast and terrifying, she felt a magnitude of helplessness she had not known existed. Her life lay in the hands of someone she did not know, had never met. And quite possibly would never meet.

As she placed a blue-skinned hand upon the transparent aluminum of the window overlooking the Hydran patrol, Sharzhevashi zh'Rin realized that the worst part was most definitely not the waiting. The worst part, by far, was the necessity of surrendering her very existence, her life and future, into hands not her own.

Compared to relinquishing all control and not giving in to despair, waiting was easy.

Eyes scanning into the distance once more, Shi searched for any sign, a flash of light or movement, to indicate Starfleet had returned.

"Flavor of the Day" Part Four

Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - CO 1st Platoon SFMC Furies
Lieutenant (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe ? Engineering officer

***USS Galaxy, Marine Barracks***

It didn't take them long to reach his quarters down in Marine territory. The marines that passed looked weary of him. Rumors had spread down there as well. The marines knew he went awol every now and then and some of them knew of his past in the Dominion War. None wanted to be the one to ask questions. That was best left to the brass.

Bridges got burned fast. It made him feel a little bad. But by each day that passed he felt more and more out of place and he had no idea why. It bothered him more than he admitted to himself. Opening the door he let her enter first.

She nodded politely at him, a gesture of thanks as she stepped into his quarters. She paused several steps inside and waited for the lights. As the illumination increased she noted how spartan his room was. It was worse than Dhanishtas quarters. There were no personal effects anywhere. The room was tidy but then that was because there was nothing to clutter it with, except a mirage of weapons. She moved towards them, kneeling down to take a closer look.

She regarded his blades, careful not to touch any of them. "You like to slice and dice I take it." she stated. "And you have some interesting upgrades to your weapons. Down fall with that is the more it can do the more can go wrong. Personally I'm fond of the simpler weapons - you can drag them through the mud and they still work. Federation rifles have a tendency to be temperamental." she stood up and unzipped her jacket. "How about that ice?" she asked slipping the garment off, tenderly pulling her hand out of the sleeve before discarding it onto a nearby piece of furniture.

Opening one of the backpacks he removed a medical field kit. He shook a small plastic bag for a few seconds and then placed it over her knuckles without much ceremony. "Ice pack. It will deliver a localized painkiller. It won't take the pain away, just dull it."

"Thanks." she replied eying him suspiciously. She let out a small chuckle. She really had underestimated him.

"What?" He walked over to the closet, pulling off the t-shirt he had been wearing. With his arms over his shoulders it looked like the crow on his back was about to lift.

She shook her head, "Its nothing." she replied watching him undress. The notion that she should have turned away was there, but then if he was bashful he wouldn't have taken off his shirt. And it was obvious that he wanted her to see what lay underneath, etched into his skin, or he wouldn't have flexed at the same time. She giggled softly as she admired them. "Must have taken a while." she said nodding towards his back, "Did it hurt?"

"Yes." That simple word said more than an entire evening of explanations would have. "Otherwise it would have been pointless."

"So you like pain?"

"I avoid it if possible."

"Then why do you say it would have been pointless? You imply that the point of having that symbol tattooed onto your flesh was to experience pain. Yet in the next breath you say you like to avoid pain...?" she raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his contradiction.

"What's that? Vulcan logic?"

Kala laughed, "If it is I really need to wash my mouth out with soap and water!"

He turned around. The tip of the wings embraced his chest. "It was needed at the time."

"The pain or the tattoo?" she asked slightly mocking him.

"There's a difference?" he returned the question and picked up a fresh t-shirt. There were several more tattoos on his body. The scorpion with its stinger on one hand and the mark of chaos on the other, tribal bands on his arms and waist although those could only be hinted.

She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "Do you always have to counter a question with a question, or better yet just evade the question or lie?"

"I just don't see the difference." he started pulling the t-shirt over his head.

"Whatever." she replied bored. "Thanks for this." she said indicating the ice pack that her right hand was nestled in, "I think I can take care of it from here on." she stood up, holding the ice pack over the other hand she gestured with her elbow towards her jacket that she had left strewn over the back of a chair, "If you could just hand that over, I'll be on my way."

There was something on her shoulder that caught his attention. "And what was that for? Pain or a representation of something?"

Kala frowned for a moment and followed his gaze to the scar on her upper right arm. She shrugged, "It's nothing." she replied reaching out for her jacket.

"Do you always have to counter a question with a question, or better yet just evade the question or lie?" Baile quoted her as he packed up the medical kit.

Kala frowned, "I did not reply with a question, and I did not lie." she replied un-amused. "It is nothing, nothing that you would recognize nor understand - therefore to you ? it's nothing."

"You're probably right... Klingons rarely live up to their reputation when tested..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she shot back defensively.

Baile placed the medical kit back into the bag where he had taken it from. Aggression flowed from her like rays from a sun. He let her wait a few more seconds. "Klingons are loud and take up space but if push comes to shove that's all they do... scream and take up space.."

"Whatever you say smooches." She stepped forward and picked up her jacket herself shaking her head. Tossing it over her shoulder with her good hand she dumped the ice pack onto the table. "I'll be going now." she told him flatly turning for the door.

Again he started laughing. It was like watching a child. Maybe she truly felt that she was hardcore. That she was as dangerous as she thought she was. It didn't matter. If she wanted to test herself against him then so be it. He felt absolutely no respect for her. He had goaded her, pushed her and she had done like they all did. Hid behind a few catchy lines, believing she took the high road.

"Good luck trying to get the answers from your sister. She's all that you're not." he said and turned his attention to the gear that needed checking.

Kala paused in the doorway. She felt her anger rising inside. "And what is 'that' supposed to mean?" she asked without turning round.

"Are you slow as well?" he asked her, both of them with their backs towards each other.

Kala pushed against the overwhelming urge to beat the living daylights out of him. All she wanted to do was break his neck; rip out his tongue, pull out his heart and eat it, yank off his testicals... the list went on. No one on the T'Kengra spoke to her like that. They wouldn't dream of it. She let the anger fill her, felt the heat tingle her insides. Klingons only understood one thing, and that was violence. To get respect you had to earn it, and she had to bend everything that Starfleet taught her in order to do so. Before she took up duties on the Galaxy she had re-read the code of conduct, scoffed at it quite a lot, but remade her pledge to follow their rules - her rules? the ones she had sworn to uphold. Why was it then that this man behind her only appeared to respect brutality? Was it better, more Federation, to walk away from it? Or should she follow her urges and smuggle his disassembled corpse out the garbage shoot?

The fury inside of her echoed in Baile's mind. Why was it he only felt that? Fury bordering on violence? Why not content? Why not balance? Why not peace? "I guess you are..." he continued and casually shrugged his shoulders.

Kala let out a laugh. Its falseness was obvious, but it helped to relieve some of the stress that she was feeling. She had nothing to prove on this ship, did she? She could just let herself sink into the unknown depths, become unremarkable, insignificant - a face that no one could recall, a name that on one could remember with a life that was just as unoriginal. Her legacy; a Starfleet record, a list of her personal data, medical history and honors... could she really exist in a life like that? She turned around and faced Baile.

"It is a brand, given to me to mark my age of ascension on Qono'S. It hurt like hell. I screamed. It is a mark of respect, a mark of the house I was invited to join. I earnt it by fighting, by following their custom and by being one of them. A warrior. I don't need your approval, my service record speaks for it's self. You don't believe me, look it up. Name's Chandrakala Eshe... that's spelt with a 'C', not an 'S'. Heard that you marine types were a bit retarded. Sorry about that, you know you can take a course to help with it if you want. Maybe you can drop by and I can give you personal tutelage if you want... I can incorporate hand to hand, weapons training, you name it - I've done it. Not that I want to boast or anything." She pivoted on her heal and stepped out of the door into the corridor, breathing a sigh of relief as she heard it close behind her. ~Well done~ an inner voice congratulated, ~you'll get to serve for a few months longer, providing you don't bump into him again...~

The marine chuckled as the doors closed behind her and left him alone in his quarters. For a second he had hoped that she would prove to be different. That she would have been able to shove his words down his throat.

Instead she had done like they all did. Clever words and a quick exit and then a pat on the back for being smart and putting him in his place.

His chuckled faded and the alien eyes grew hard. He tapped the commbadge. "Baile to Dhanishta Eshe."

-^-"Eshe here."-^- A surprised voice replied over the comm.

"I had a visitor in the brig. Your sister. She tried to get information about what happened on Romulus by threatening to report a broken nose to the captain."

There was a hesitation over the line, -^-"Lieutenant I don't know what you're..."-^- she paused, unsure exactly what to say or do. -^-"Is there something you would like to discuss Lieutenant? I'm quite busy right now; I could meet you in a few hours if you want to talk?"-^-

"I'll be in my quarters."

-^-"I'll be there,"-^- Dhanishta paused and looked about the Lab, -^-"In three hours."-^- she concluded. -^-"Eshe out."-^-

'You should have just asked, little girl? a simple question and I would have answered.' he thought to himself before returning to the task of readying the gear he would be needing.

"An Odd Partnering"

Lt. JG Ophelia Zamora
JAG

Location: Zamora's Office

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

"Ma'am?"

She glanced up from her desk, absorbed in sudden paperwork of a predecessor that was more concerned with her personal life then her duty life. Fay left Ophelia with a work load so heavy that the weight of it would make an Ox sigh. "Yes?"

"Your battle armor..." With a heavy plop, the weighted outfit landed on the corner of her desk accented by the black helmet that would make her hair style cry out 'unfair!'.

"Oh...yes."

"And this...." The blond female responded as she gently placed the large rifle on the edge of her desk.

A slight smirk curled her mouth. "Do I really need something that....large?" Zamora questioned.

"You want to live...yeah...ya do." She stated curtly before turning to leave. "You need to get dressed and report to the Marine barracks in thirty minutes. According to my report...you volunteered for the search and rescue mission."

"I did indeed." The woman stood, coming around the edge of her desk with her gaze held steady on the weapon that mocked her.

"Good luck Ma'am." The petite blond nodded with respect before leaving Ophelia to her own regard.

"Thank you Ensign." A heavy sigh escaped the JAG as she watched the young woman depart. Questions of why swirled around the part of her brain responsible for logical reasoning. It would make a Vulcan frown....if they did do such a thing.

Perhaps, it was a urge for redemption of some sort. It was an activity that would force her to believe that she was indeed worthy of being a human being instead of a punching bag. Either way, it got her mind off her past......she would be forced to meet new people, large people, large men.

Men that....hopefully wouldn't hit her, but show her some respect as they trampled down the corridors of the Space station in search of possibly their own redemption.

Turning to study the outfit, she took a long drag on the coffee cup that rested in her hand. The contents, lukewarm as usual, gave her routine and comfort despite her surroundings. Her vision took in the sight of the polished weapon.

The phaser silently called to her, taunting her with a wish of death that it held within it's powered core. What she wouldn't have given to have one of these in her possession a short while ago. It rested, powered down for the moment storing in its memory the knowledge of ending life. The names of the life in particular, it or Ophelia did not know.

As they regarded each other for a moment, both accepted the odd partnership that was forced upon the inexperienced one of them as a part of the preservation of life within the organization known as Starfleet.

"Lead Us Not Into Temptation."

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer
Crewman Kallor - Security Officer

* * * * * Deck Twelve - Medical Complex * * * * *

War. It was enough to make you wonder if the higher beings in the universe had some jaded need to shake things up once in a while for their amusement. An occasional event to keep their minds off eternal life and the ensuing boredom that had to accompany knowing everything. Personally, Kimberly had decided that that irritating omniscient being known as 'Q' had a hand in this one. From the rumours and rare report she had read on that 'person', it sounded like just the sort of thing he might get up to, death, chaos, confusion and mayhem.

Singing to herself absently as she rooted through the storage closet, Kimberly tried not to dwell on events outside of her control. From her last experience with war if you started worrying about everything you ended up achieving nothing. For now, this ship, the crew and her own sanity were more than enough to keep her mind occupied.

"That, and the lack of my own damn field kit!" she griped to herself. ~ Teach me for asking someone else to restock it, next time, do it myself so it doesn't get stored with ships equipment. ~ Rooting around for several moments she found the elusive kit stacked (of course) at the bottom of a pile of similar kits. With a sigh she began rearranging the stack to retrieve her own pack.

Kallor had quite happily spent several minutes watching Lieutenant Burton, a past time he felt he could well get used to. It was the first time he had laid eyes upon her as their previous appointment for a medical had been cancelled due to the circumstances.

But watching women without their knowledge never worked out well for him so he cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Wonderful singing voice you have there Lieutenant." He remarked.

Surprised, Kimberly turned and sent the precarious pile of field kits tumbling over the floor. "Uh, thanks," she replied, a little embarrassed at her clumsiness and being caught singing, normally not something she did in public, "Ah, can I help you Crewman?" she asked as she got a good look at the security officer in the doorway.

"Well with one thing and another. I was supposed to attend a medical with you on my induction but of course nothing is presently going as smoothly as planned. At a loss I thought I'd try doing something normal amongst the confusion and keep the appointment, a little late I have to admit!" He grinned and peered around her at the mess on the floor.

"Want a hand with this? I haven't met the rest of the security team yet and I figure they are now most likely in as much trouble as everyone else; we might as well team up. I'll shoot bad things and you can heal the good... if we find any." He spoke light heartedly, there was nothing better than cheerful bravado in a dire situation and he already suspected that he rather liked Kimberly Burton.

Looking the Crewman up and down for a second Kimberly made sure the first thought that came to her mind stayed right there, ~ Stay professional girl! ~ she admonished herself as she nudged the collapsed pile into a corner, ~ Why is this ship full of so many attractive men and women! ~ she bitched, there were days it was hard to concentrate. "Thanks, but I have an Ensign whose name is on this storage closet, he needs something to do for an hour or so, thank you anyway." Stepping out of the small room she let the door slide shut behind her. "Crewman, while I do appreciate the enthusiasm of someone actually voluntarily turning up early for a medical, you have picked the absolute worst time possible."

Kallor laughed. "My timing has always been a little unorthodox. Although I suppose that everyday things like medicals still have to happen, even when some alien entity is trying to eat your face!"

Chuckling slightly Kimberly shook her head, "Crewman, if some alien critter is trying to eat your face I would hope we'd be focussing on something other than your routine physical," she assured him. "We'll be back at DS5 soon, and by then we have to have every sickbay ready for a probable influx of survivors from the station, more than likely wounded from the rescue itself, as well as the goddess knows what else to come after that." Thinking a moment she nodded down the corridor and started walking slowly back to the main ward with him, "at least though we can check your inoculations are up to date while you're here and schedule you a proper check up," as they approached the main ward she paused by the open door to watch the comings and goings of her staff who were all getting sickbay ready for the upcoming fight. Looking at the Crewman beside her she smiled, "and I'll have someone to chat to for a moment who won't be running off when I turn my head."

"I will need to report to security fairly soon, it looks as if my induction there will be a baptism of fire! But I can't think of any other place I need to be, or would rather be before that happens..." He studied her face, gauging how far he might go on this first meeting and a mischievous smile spread across his features.

"Say, I don't suppose you'd join me for a little R and R after this little adventure is over? I could sure use an evening in friendly company, the fact you are a beautiful woman is just a bonus... I promise I would behave. What do you say?"

Raising an eyebrow at the somewhat forward request she gave him another look as they walked over to her office. Truth be told after recent events, both social and political, a little social relaxation sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Leading the way into her office she smiled as she dumped her medkit on a chair and turned her head his way, "Promising to behave seems to suggest you're not normally one to do so." She replied with a curious expression.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyeing her askance for a moment. "Yeah, well, possibly I don't in practice...but I'll make an exception in your case, although not through the lack of temptation! Seems to me that I need to turn over a new leaf now I've entered Starfleet so I've written down a few new rules of conduct for myself...namely to behave myself on a first date. Anyways, it would just be nice to talk to friendly face over a bottle of something special, swap a few anecdotes, pretend all is well in time and space until the shit hits the fan." He stepped a little closer to her and looked into her eyes with a curious intensity.

"I've got a feeling that you might be somebody I will want to know and I'm not going to blow it for the sake of a few lousy lines and possible rejection." He said softly. And then before she could reply he moved away from her again, his face lighting up with its customary impish grin.

"So, check me out Doc. and then I'll go see what they need me to do. With a bit of luck we'll pick up our people and be on our way in no time and then I'll be seeing you ...out of uniform?"

Smiling slightly, Kimberly flushed a little at his forwardness. Stepping back she perched on the edge of her desk and swung her console around to face her. Spending a moment checking files she soon found Crewman Kallors file, Security, new, it wasn't hard to locate his notes, taking the time while she looked him up she thought for a moment just how best to reply to his suggestions. "Well Crewman, according to your 504 that was sent ahead your inoculations are up to date, so we shouldn't have to worry about you picking anything up when the DS5 personnel come aboard, in the meantime, I'll schedule you a check-up with Doctor Mathieson or Doctor Kio once things have settled down." Sliding the computer away from her she looked up, "if we're going to chat over a drink or two, then I can't be your regular physician," she explained, still smiling slightly, "so you'll have to settle for someone else poking and prodding you I'm afraid."

Kallor nodded his head sagely. "Not one to mix business with pleasure Doc? I can't say I blame you, I'm sure that I can make do with just your social side; I promise to play nice!" He grinned and made his retreat to the door.

"I best go see what security have in store for me, I think we're about to get serious with this DS5 rescue business, I'll be seeing you soon I am sure!" Then with a wave of his hand he was gone.

Watching his retreating back Kimberly let out a slow breath as he sauntered away, and once he was out of sight she let out the last of her breath in one huff. ~ There's a guy who moves at warp speed. ~ she thought. Looking at the picture on his file and recalling the image of him as he walked away she smiled slightly as she shut down the terminal and walked onto the ward.

~ Nice butt ~

"A Matter Of An Insurrection...- Part II - Conclusion"

PO2 Maxwell
PO3 Victory
&
Special Cameo by
Capt. Jaxom

"Walk away. Now. Last chance-" was all he got out before an object thrown by someone struck his hand and sent the phaser skittering away across the deck. Then Fox decided to strike, spearing Max when he lunged for him. Both men went sprawling to the deck, each fighting for superiority.

Fox had begun pummeling Max. The man was a professional, probably a hitman or soldier Max was thinking somewhere in the back of his mind. Every time Max tried to execute a hold, his opponent was faster, more fluid. And now he was taking a beating in earnest. The others who were present were cheering for their now apparent leader, and he delivered by back handing Max when he tried to close the distance between them. "Kick his 'Fleet ass!" and such cries could be heard.

Fox turned and gave his onlookers a thin smile, and when he turned back received a big boot to the face for his troubles. Then he saw it: the look of a man who's lost it, lost all control of his faculties and wanted to unload. And unload Max did as he began beating the protagonist senselessly, striking him in places that would leave an impression for days to come.

Victory had been on the far side of the compartment that housed the field hospital when the commotion had started. It had taken some while for her to force herself through the gathering crowd before she reached the source. A fight, someone from the refugee group and a Starfleet crewman who she almost immediately recognized as Max. However the fight may have started the Starfleet Medic had the upper hand now and was doing a fine job of ruining the others face.

"Max stop!" Victory called out to him, her soft voice almost lost in the yelling and cheering of the crowd. "Max! Stop! You've won, don't hurt him anymore!" She yelled again, louder as she forced her way past the last few onlookers, having to push fairly hard to get between the last two. "Max! It's over stop!"

Max wasn't listening, because he now had Fox's throat and half of his neck firmly encapsulated in his hands, and applied enough pressure to leave no misunderstanding as to what was going to happen: he was going to kill Fox with his bare hands. Fox's face was now beet red, every vessel bulging about his forehead and temples. Then the cyanosis slowly began to seep in, and he resisted Max less, pupils beginning to dilate. Some of the other would be rebels began to move in on to help Fox.

Victory paled as she watched him strangle the man and as others moved in intent on helping their friend and probably killing him. "Ohno!" she yelped and sprang forward, she had to stop this now. Max wasn't listening to her and if it did not end now the man he was strangling would die and he would be next once the others managed to pummel him down.

Several of the man's friends were now between her and Max. "Stand out of my way!" she yelled as she advanced. They did not heed her order, rather one of them reached back and shoved her back. Old reflexes kicked in as she was shoved. She set her left foot back, bracing herself against the push and keeping her balance. "I said get out of my way!" she squeaked and pushed forward again, ducking as she pushed between the two men that blocked her way. She moved fast and tapped the back of their knee's with her hands in just the right manner as she passed to force them to fall to their knee's without injuring them.

Then she was to Max. "That's enough! Please!" she pleaded, but when he did not respond she placed her hands on his shoulder, holding onto him forcefully and pulled him back and away from his victim. The both of them fell backwards, landing on the cold deck with a thud.

The sharp pain from her grabbing his shoulder snapped him back to reality. He realized that he went blank and hoped that it wasn't her that got hurt. When she let go, he realized that it wasn't her that Max went off on...it was that Tyler Fox character. He laid on the deck gasping for air, his pallor now pale and improving as fresh oxygen was being sucked in with every improving breath.

Victory shot her crimson gaze back and forth across the crowd. "Thats it, it's all over. Go back to your own business!" she said in a serious tone. Fox's friends gathered their beaten leader up and carted him off to a nearby spot under her watchful eyes as the crowd broke up and began to dissolve. After a moment she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh before opening them again. Getting onto her hands and knee's she crossed the foot and a half distance between her and Max and looked him over. He seemed alright save for some bruises.

"What were you thinking?" she asked him as she switched her optics to x-ray and checked his internal organs for damage. "You could have killed that man. Why were you fighting? It could not have been worth it...was it?" she looked him in the eyes, a strange look in her own artificial eyes. "Why were you going to kill him, Max?" she said, very softly. "I know that look that was in your eyes...That look when someone is going to deliver death onto someone else...take someones life away from them. Why Max?" she looked down at the deck. "We are all trying to get out of here, the Hydran are our enemy, not each other. Doesn't matter how frustrated or upset we are with all we have been through. We should not be killing each other," she fell silent and sat back, running a delicate hand through her now tussled crimson hair.

Max didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't know what to say to her, or how to explain things. All he could do was look away, keeping a wary eye on Fox and his people.

"Are you alright?" She asked after a moment, looking back at her new friend.

"I'm fine," Max finally rasped, his breathing still a little fast. Then he stood up. "I'm fine," he repeated once more.

At that point, Jaal Jaxom strode concealing a type one hand phaser. He was followed by three other Starfleet officers still in their uniforms. Using his above average height to his advantage he demanded, "What's going on here?"

Straightening a bit more, Max looked Jaxom straight in the eye. "Someone asked for a beat down. So I handed it to them. Sir." Max waited for the dressing down he figured was coming. But Fox would deny him that, at least for the moment.

"We want out of here," he said in a bedraggled voice, compliments of Max trying to adjust his larynx to perma-shut. "Not only did your Starfleet leave us here to die, but has it's dogs set upon us!"

"That's not true!" Victory interrupted. "Starfleet did not abandon us! They are coming to rescue us as fast as they can. Do you think it's easy to put together a rescue operation that will have to face an entire Hydran fleet and this station's own defenses, which will have been under enemy control now?" she glared at Fox. "And don't think that you can blame Max for that altercation, I know you had to have done something to start it!" she crossed her arms. "He is a trained Starfleet Medic, not some ruffian."

Jaxom carefully assessed the situation. Thanks to Starfleet training and his own experiences it wasn't too hard to figure out what happened. More likely than not some of the civilians were getting restless and made some disparaging remarks about Starfleet. Maxwell and Victory tried to calm them down... which of course, led to an altercation.

"You," Jaal pointed to the civilian, "What's your name?"

"Fox," he replied.

"I'm Captain Jaal Jaxom and I'd like to thank you for assistance in getting ready for the evacuation." Before Fox could say anything else, Jaal continued sternly, "For your information, we have 'not' been abandoned. That ship out there was only a scout sent to assess the situation. They'll be back for us. You can count on it." Jaal pointed at him again for emphasis.

Now Jaal turned to Maxwell and Victory, "You have work to do too. I want the wounded ready to go first then everyone else." Now the Trill rose his voice so everyone could hear, "If anyone else has any complaints you bring them to me. If you don't want to cooperate with the other folks here we'll gladly leave you behind. Any questions?"

It seemed to be enough for the rabble-rousers. A few muttered curses, and they gradually withdrew from the doorway and back to their little area on the 'uninjured' side. When Max was sure they were out of earshot, he looked at Victory and mouthed 'Thank you'. Then, he turned to face Jaxom. "Captain, I...thank you, sir." He wasn't much for the 'snap to' much these days, but he still respected Captains and Colonels enough to do so.

Jaal moved to stand directly in front of the medic. He spoke in a low tone so that only Maxwell could hear him. "We've all been under a LOT of stress lately. Even so, we need to maintain our professionalism. Got it Mister?"

"Got it, sir," Max replied. He wasn't going to get into the particulars and just let the issue die. "Permission to resume Evac Prep, sir?" He got the nod from Jaxom and looked at Victory. He then turned and walked off with her in tow. They had work to do.

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