"The Strength of Conviction" - Part III

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)

Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)
Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Represenative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

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First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar

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Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan

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"If I am, as you say, unelected and self proclaimed, I would be more arrogant than Shinzon and the first Empress put together. I am not here for power, profit, or personal safety. We here, as a body of Senators, should be looking towards policies to assist our Empire in regaining her Glory, not tossing about unwarranted and uncalled for insults." Seriously, some Senators could be such stupid people in their own intelligence ways. With regards to true inheritance, he declined to comment.

"Glory," a quiet, commanding voice drawled, with a sharp laugh. A tall, reserved aging Rihannsu rose to his feet, "You expect glory here? Look at this place. We sit in a broken building. We sit in an Empire the forces of which are decimated, the people desperate and wounded, homes burned, cattle dead, farms razed...and we talk about *the Federation*? Glory? Glory does not come from an obsession with one's enemies - glory comes from greatness, and greatness comes from within. You waste your time talking about one insignificant human and the Empire's relationship to his people. It is a small matter. First, as Tal'Aehkhifv has said, we must rebuild. First, I would direct this council's attention to the plight of our own Galae. Before anything else, we must have an army, the capacity to defend yourselves...and that should be our first order of business."

The regal man sighed softly and shook his head, "My apologies - I did not come here to give speeches...I came to get things done. So I say we introduce ourselves and get down the business of government. Know then that I am Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen...and I stand for the Declared."

As Tal Vriha sat down, Tal Khev nodded in the direction of the man. It was good to know already that one had political allies, at least allies in their same vision of the future.

Having been sat quietly and listening to the conversation as it rolled across the floor of the Senate, Sh'rev t'Sannellieu stood slowly, not out of any sense of grandiose, but purely due to the aches he felt. Once stood he brought his cane up and rapped it on the floor twice to gain a small measure of attention. "Fellow Senators," he began courteously, "I am Sh'rev t'Sannellieu, Senator from Chula province, and am grateful to see so many familiar faces alive here this day," pausing a moment he looked around and frowned, "however, I would ask your indulgence a moment. We are here this day, bereft of Preator and Empress, and so it falls to us to lead our people. They look to us for guidance and aid, and so before we can seek glory for the empire, or retribution for this affront, it is my opinion that we must first ensure the safety of our people and our Empire." Pausing a moment he looked around the room to gauge the expressions on the faces around, "we could indeed strike back, but at what cost? Our people need security, now if this requires of us accepting aid from the Federation, so be it, there is nothing to say that we must always accept aid, we merely need they assistance to begin to rebuild. We are Rihannsu," he intoned proudly, "and we can stand on our own should the need arise, but at this point if we stand alone, we fall alone!"

"As has been said, the Federation has defeated many enemies, yet they have never shown themselves to be prepared to launch a war against us. If aid is offered, let us accept, for now. And has been suggested we rebuild and use their aid to make us strong again. The time for Glory and retribution will come. We are a patient people, time is, as always our ally."

"As for this Curran, let us do as we please with him. He is ours. If they choose to object, it will be too late. They can have the pieces back as has been suggested. What will they do? Withhold their aid, I think not for it is not their way. They will bleat and complain but what can they do for him?

Resurrect him, so much the better, for if their science is so advanced we can have the pleasure of torturing him to death twice." Smiling blandly at the thought he looked around again, "decisions that will affect our Empire for many years to come will be made in this room today my colleagues, let us not make them rashly though. We are the Rihannsu Senate, let us guide our people wisely."

Rital raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." The grandstanding of the other Senators, although amusing, was distracting them from the point in hand.

"The question of relations with the Federation is important, but of greater urgency to this body ought to be rebuilding the military and industrial structures necessary to rebuild our society. I suggest we entertain negotiations with the Federation... this would allow us to reform the Galae's... transfer valuable units to more openly hostile and imminently dangerous fronts. At the same time, it would allow us to refrain from any commitments, which will be of use while we modernize and rebuild the military. Likewise, to solve the issue of manpower... we might want to consider a citizenship for service program. There are many sentients in the Empire who, as of now, do nothing but cost us manpower to keep control of.

By allowing their best and brightest to serve a tenure in the military for full citizenship, we maintain our supremacy and at the same time make it easier on ourselves to keep these people subjugated, while solving any manpower issues we may have."

"And what of the Triad fleets just outside the sector?" The Proconsul had remained silent through the proceedings, content at listening for the moment, and gauging. It was a difficult onus placed on him to mitigate the group in this critical juncture, and how he loathed Hitan for not making an appearance as yet, but Omar felt the time was coming for the Pro-Federation Praetor to come out of his shell, for the tide was turning in a matter of conspiracy to use the Federation to their own ends. He decided to further entrench suspicion on the so-called 'saviors'.

"The Praetor sent away the Starfleet forces for a reason. Have the Hydrans returned? They have not. They simply content themselves in holding the border worlds captive and under their jurisdiction. Has Intelligence provided us with any reason for that? I say it is mnhei'sahe that we have been humbled. For daring to ask assistance to those we knew were the catalyst for the war drums beating on our doorstep. We provoked this disaster by appealing to their enemies. We had been neutral up until then."

"And why have the Hydrans chosen to attack us now, if not because of our dealings with the Federation?" Dhivael shifted her gaze from Omar back to the Senate body. "Have we learned nothing from our past? One need only look back to their war with the Dominion. The Federation fed us lies then, drawing us into their conflict. *Their* conflict, not ours." She thumped a fist against the table for emphasis.

"The Federation will never admit to their manipulative, duplicitous nature, but we all know it is there. They have used us to strike back at their enemies; should we be surprised that their enemies are now striking back at us? Or perhaps the more pertinent question is, how do we make them stop?"

"Terminate Curran and round up all Federation personnel still in Rihan territories for deportation." Omar interjected. "It will appease the Triad in that we are not in an alliance with the Federation, since the humans and their ilk do not believe in death penalties. If the Federation were truly what they say they are, they will respect our laws. If none are left on our soil, the Triad may continue on to Earth, where the Federation may then beg for our assistance. Then we shall be in control for the two sides will devastate each other in the inevitable assault."

"Weakening both, destroying one possibly, and giving us the time we need to rebuild, re-arm and reassert ourselves," t'Sannellieu mused aloud for all to hear. "This too is a plan with merit, and one worthy of consideration. We are faced with a choice that has no easy answer, and any decisions we make may have unforeseen consequences in the future that we cannot comprehend yet. Whatever we decide though, must benefit the Rihannsu people first, as is proper. Our first concern, as I see it, is to decide on whether or not to accept Federation assistance. Yes or no. If the answer is no, can our resources stretch to the task at hand? If the answer is yes, then what repercussions will this action have. Do our intelligence agencies have any inkling that the Triad will attack again?" Looking around the room he looked for a face that might have an answer to his question.

"I agree," a tall, thin senator stood up. He wore the Senatorial robes that seemed to big for him. His eyes were dark brown and looked as if they could see things miles away. "I am Taev Maec S'Tei of Kotor Province. You don't know me but I am taking my father's place as he was killed in action against the Invaders. I am sitting in his place until I win the senatorial seat or someone else is elected by the people of Kotor."

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part IV

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)

Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)
Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Represenative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

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First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar

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Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan

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"If I am, as you say, unelected and self proclaimed, I would be more arrogant than Shinzon and the first Empress put together. I am not here for power, profit, or personal safety. We here, as a body of Senators, should be looking towards policies to assist our Empire in regaining her Glory, not tossing about unwarranted and uncalled for insults." Seriously, some Senators could be such stupid people in their own intelligence ways. With regards to true inheritance, he declined to comment.

"I agree," a tall, thin senator stood up. He wore the Senatorial robes that seemed to big for him. His eyes were dark brown and looked as if they could see things miles away. "I am Taev Maec S'Tei of Kotor Province. You don't know me but I am taking my father's place as he was killed in action against the Invaders. I am sitting in his place until I win the senatorial seat or someone else is elected by the people of Kotor."

The younger representative looked around at his compatriots. "One easy answer to come by is to re-arm and gird ourselves for war. That is definite.

The Triad will be back. That is a sure thing." s'Tei looked around the chamber, "But the Federation is not our enemy. That was proven by recent events. While we should not join them, we should respect their actions. If they request help the next time the Triad attacks, I think it would be wise to lend aid as they aided us but not to the detriment of our own."

"Assistance from the Federation is not needed," Dhivael interjected, shaking her head slowly. How quickly these senators forgot their history lessons.

It seemed she would have to be the one to refresh their memories. "When our ancestors began their new life in this system, they did so with the assistance of no one. Brick by brick, piece by piece, they built this civilization using nothing more than the gifts of the earth and their own willpower. Are we now so weak that we cannot rebuild our civilization ourselves?"

"We can still rebuild ourselves without assistance," s'Tei answered, "brick by brick, piece by piece, but if the Federation and others want to aid in defense, I say let them. They make excellent targets for the enemy. Let them use their resources while we save our own."

"You are all fools." Donatra whispered quietly, under her breath.

He may have been sitting several dozen feet away across the opposite side of the ancient chamber - wasn't that where Donatra was standing when Shinzon took control of the Senate five years ago? - but by no means did the Proconsul not read the disdain etched on her features. He decided to let it slide. Alliances and opinions were like shifting sands in a newly rebuilt Senate. There were no Senatorial backers, no Remans, no Unificationists, and unfortunately, no Tal Shiar clamoring for their party recognition.

Without his Imperial Police party in a position of power, for he couldn't - and wouldn't - make a play for his agency to take up their rightful place again. Making enemies without a strong alliance is foolhardy. He'd bide his time. For now.

The time for single independents to claim their stake was at hand, and the weak shall fall by the wayside. Omar would not make a mistake of allying himself with anyone who would fail to stand on their own. So, he let the arguments continue unabated.

Delon had been making several attempts to get a word in edge-wise, but his timing was poor, always coinciding with the greatest eruption of voices.

Finally he got to his feet and remained there, refusing to give ground until the tumult had at last subsided. His back stood unnaturally straight, only serving to emphasize the way his belly had gone to seed with his advancing years. "We are all people of action as well as words." His words began slightly louder than absolutely necessary, declaring his intention to continue and be heard. "I have listened now to the words of action that have traversed from one end of this hall to another and I would say that we are loosing sight of what our goal must be. We are not yet in ruins, but we do not stand far from it. As for the Federation, we can deal with them, contracts expire, alliances are meant for expedience, not friendship. We need, strength, we need allies, and we need 'confidence.' Our infrastructure is shot right now, but as it lies bleeding on the ground it struggles to regain its feet. Give it a hand. Set our economy in order, provide for our business leaders and trade companies, and we will find our old selves again.

I am Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran, from Fethraie."

"We are, for the large part, in agreement with the Senators from the Fethraie Valley and from Ch'Yem," a quiet voice with the ring of both youth and command told the room full of Senators. As one, everyone rose in silence to greet the Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu. She walked in to the broken Senate alone - a gesture of trust in those gathered here. The slender young woman gestured for the senators to be seated as she walked towards the throne.

"And while We acknowledge that the need to rebuild our own homes before discussing whether or not we shall have guests within seems logical, as Senators Khev and tr'Ahalaen point out, it cannot be said that these visitors - the Federation - cannot help us lay down a solid foundation and carry bricks to the structure we seek to build." Kaidalin smiled, "So know that We have heard what you had to say Senators, and We are content that everyone here has to best interests of the Rihannsu at heart."

The Empress made a steeple with her long, delicate fingers and sighed. "So the table pounding declarations of virtue and patriotism end here.

We will mediate this session. And We are currently inclined to use the aid the Federation can give us so that we may rebuild our infrastructure.

Whether we shall honor our 'alliance' with them once our needs our fulfilled...that is a subject for another time. Therefore, for now, We will only hear arguments from those opposed to this course of action for the purpose stated." The young woman smiled at the Senators who had spoke in support for using Federation aid. "Do not be concerned. All will speak and all will be heard. Now...who claims the floor?"

"With her majesty's permission." Rital decided there indeed was something to be said on the issue of Federation aid, and favored the Empress with a grateful smile for taking the lead in organizing the debate.

"Fellow Senators, both sides here have convincing arguments. To be honest, I've not yet decided whether a formal alliance with the Federation is, in my opinion, beneficial to our people. What I have heard, however, is more than one Senator suggest accepting Federation aid... that what happened is due to our faults as a people, be it hubris or whichever fault you may attribute the attack to. If this is true, we owe it to ourselves to decline Federation assistance. If we are to rediscover our ways, it must be through our own sweat and tears. How can we honestly expect the loyalty of our people, if we replace our own workers with Federation technology and personnel? Many of you, honestly, are unpopular in your own districts...what will your people say to lose employment because we, in our laziness, decide to take the easy way out? I suggest we politely decline any assistance...

our world will be rebuilt, but we owe it to ourselves, and our posterity, to insure it is our own hands who do the rebuilding."

"Might I point out an obvious compromise, Senator Rital," Khiy Keirianh responded. "You are right. Our own people are more than capable of putting their homes back together again, and I would not dream of depriving them of that simple right and most rewarding pleasure. So, let us import the Federation technology and materials to assist us in rebuilding, but shut out the spies they will undoubtedly send posing as laborers and engineers."

"If it pleases your Majesty, I would speak. Fellow Senators." came a new voice, from the seat of the Senator representing the Baratan province, where the Capitol itself was located. It was a prized seat in the Senate, but it's newest owner was the source of much contention within the ranks of those present.

After all, the man sitting in it, Tolon Kerec, was two things that most Rihanssu politicians hated. He was a Unificationist, and a Commoner.

And now, he was a Senator. "Forgive me if I speak out of place. I am, after all, a simple common man who only has his seat because my predecessor has no family. I am the child of shopkeepers. I was a soldier for the Empire in my time, and also, I have been a spy. And yes, as many of you will delight in pointing out, I am a Unificationist. I do believe that we should be rejoined with our ancient Vulcan cousins, and that both races have much to learn from the other. They could use our passion, certainly. But we could use some of their rational thought, I think."

So much for the Unificationists not having a seat on the Senate, thought Omar. He mentally ticked off the new representative's name. He'd not be around long. The city was or will be under major reconstruction. It would be not be that hard-pressed to 'create' an accident that ended with the commoner being unified with the pavement at the foot of the Senate building.

Or anywhere else equally poetic. The Proconsul admitted to himself that was a romantic at heart.

Kerec crossed to the center of the floor, over the great diorama depicting the former Neutral Zone - the border with the Federation.

"For Centuries, we have been obsessed with the people of Earth, and their Federation. The only war we ever lost, and it has ruled our people ever since."

"We have just been handed the worst defeat in our history. We had to rely on Federation assistance to reclaim our world - and still, members of this body insist on blaming them. Their own personnel were used as tools of our enemies, and of ourselves. And, as ever, we are our own worst enemies. The door for the Hydran Invasion was not opened by the Hydrans themselves, or any Federation operative, but by the Tal Shi'ar. You have ALL seen the recordings and the files, the confessions of the Federation double agent - a Federation spy working not for the Hydrans, but for the damnable Tal Shi'ar!

Mind scanners of some of the senior Tal Shi'ar operatives have revealed their plan - to give the Empire a short, victorious war to reclaim glory."

Omar felt the need to point out, "That has not been proven definitively.

The Hydrans have been known to insert their own operatives into key positions to undermine governments. It is still under investigation. Do not introduce circumstantial and unproven evidence to the floor."

Kerec ignored the Proconsul's comment. "Are we so sad now, that we must engineer victory? Are we so pathetic that we cannot, as a people, take responsibility for ourselves?"

Passionately, the newest member of the Senate continued across the floor.

"Our identity does not have to be determined by what we blame the Federation for. We must look at ourselves. The Empire has been saved, fellow Senators.

Now, we must make it an empire WORTH saving."

Standing again t'Sannellieu make a respectful bow to Kaidalin, "If I may Empress," he said politely. Turning to face the majority of the senate he raised one hand, "colleagues, at this point in our history we have suffered a serious defeat, and we must rebuild. I personally do not care where the aid to make our reconstuction possible comes from. If the Federation offers aid so be it, let us accept, but with no provisions for future talks or trade or joint ventures. We must look after our own. Should the Triad attack the Federation, and considering the defeat that they have just been dealt at the hands of the Federation I believe this a possibility, then we can at that time make a decision, just as we did during the Dominion War. For now, and by any means necessary let us heal our people, rebuild our world, and more importantly rebuild our defences and intelligence divisions so that this can not only never happen again, but should anyone try we can ensure they pay the ultimate price for attempting it!" his voice raising slightly toward the end of his statement he slammed his cane down on the desk next to him, "we ar Rihannsu, our people were once feared, our name once sent terror into the hearts of any who heard it. We must ensure that we are prepared, and strong enough to prevent this from 'ever' happening again!"

OOC: The Truth series takes place on Galaxy's return trip to Federation Space.

"Truth - Part Three"

Featuring
Saul Bental
Naranda Roswell
Eve/Valentina

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Nara thought a moment. How to say it without divulging the secret, "Valentina, I believe they did something to prevent anyone from knowing what happened to you. Eve didn't know. You don't know. They made sure no one would find out. But...if you'll let me, I can perhaps try to find something out for you." She looked at Saul, "I've done it twice. If the information is available, it could be helpful."

Tina nodded her consent and looked over at Saul.

"If Valentina agrees, and if there's no danger to her, then I'm good. Just make sure you work with Boris Shtazai, Eve's predecessor. He's still on board, and he's Russian."

Nara furrowed her brow, "Why would I need him? As I said, I've done this before. I did it when she was in Sickbay. Speaking Russian and I had to do SOMETHING."

The frown was countered with a grimace. "Nara, Boris Shtazai is intelligence's technical officer. Do I need to spell it out for you? He'll be present, or else I'm not authorizing this. And I want Ella informed, too."

Nara had to consent to the first part. It was a subtle way of pulling rank. No need for him to make it obvious. However, "Why Ella?"

Tina closed her eyes and sighed softly. "Whatever you're going to do, please do it. I want to know what I've been turned into."

Saul smiled reassuringly. "I just want to make sure all goes well. And don't worry about it - in the end, you're still you, no matter what they did to you. You remember what's home is like, and what you are like, and that's the most important thing."

He returned his attention to Nara, having came up with an answer which would hopefully put her mind at ease. "I don't want the Chief Engineer to think that intelligence is stealing her people's work time. I wouldn't want Boris to help upgrading the computer core without me being informed first, for example."

Nara sighed, "Fine, but we do this asap. None of that damned red tape. I'll contact Ella and you get Boris."

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

Two hours later

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

Saul Bental and Boris Shtazai stood outside Eve's quarters. Both men looked solemn. Shtazai even had a sour face, and Saul knew exactly why - the Russian technical officer was supposed to transfer off the Galaxy as soon as Eve took over. Now, with the unexpected turn of events, the new assignment and the second pip looked as far as they ever did.

"Hardly a cybernetics workship." The Galaxy's intelligence technical officer said.

"Bora." Saul spoke up, "If anything looks out of order at any phase, put a stop to it immediatly."

"It's your girlfriend." Shtazai shrugged. Saul wasn't sure if his subordinate was rebuking him for doubting Nara's abilities, or if he didn't care too much about Eve's fate.

"We don't know why she returned to her anicent self." The Dutchman replied harshly. "But at her present state she's dangerous. We can't just tell her that since she doesn't remember anything, she's free to go on her way; The woman is an SFI operative, with all the implication."

Shtazai smirked. All of them knew too much, from the director to the lowest analyst or technician.

"Not to mention that she could snap your neck with the blink of an eye." Saul countiued. And then, softer: "But she's a friend and a crewmate, and right now what I care about is to keep her alive. So I'm telling you again--"

"Yes yes, if anything looks funny, put a stop to it and return to the drawing board." Shtazai shook his head violently. Saul tapped on his shoulder, appreciative, and sent him to the room where Tina awaited.

Nara looked at Boris and nodded. There wasn't much to say to him.

Inside, Tina sat on the couch, closing her eyes. She remembered this from the first time, before anyone could understand her. Who WOULD forget such an experience? When nara aproached, Tina opened her eyes and looked into Naras.

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Within The Mind

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Nara sat across from her, focusing into Tina's eyes and soon...

Nara appeared this time in the foyer of a grand, gothic patterned cathedral. The lighting was dim, illuminated by a smattering of carefully placed candelabras, and all was quiet, not a soul to be seen.

"Well, isn't this chipper. Guardian?" Nara stayed in her place, not exploring with her mind. She had been in this mind a couple times before and knew now the protocol somewhat.

The now familiar form of the guardian apeared, this time with everything intact and undamaged. "Yes, child?" the avatar inquired politely, her tone sounding every bit the armored nun she apeared to be.

"Valentina...and Eve. Is it safe for them to know of each other? Is Eve still here somewhere? Valentina needs answers. I don't ask this for me. I don't even have to see, but I ask you to show her things."

The Guardian indicated the grand doors behind Nara, "come with me, child." Through these doors one found, not a world as was expected, but a massive cooridor, the architecture matching that of the interior of the cathedral. "Due to the recent alteration of Eve's mental pathways," she spoke, as they walked down the vastly tall corridor, "certain subroutenes were inacessable to us. This was discovered quite by accident when you repaired the Translator, and prompted a complete system Search. Others were damaged and required rebooting from the stored firmware backups. The Primogenitors handled their craft quite well."

"Forgive me, child. In responce to your inquiries, there is little I can do. The Primogenitors did not include any parameters related with organic memory as the original model included the entire memory pathways of the organic recipient. The memory wipe was a last ditch effort to allow Eve the possibility of a "normal" existance once she had been awakened. I have postulated that the intent was to drop her off back on Earth in the vicinity of where she had been taken from a hundred years before, with no memories. She would have asimilated herself back into the culture and proved an admirable and hardworking member of society. "

At this point the corridor ended in a wall with a massive door set into it. Touching a selection of controlls, adamantine rods within the structure began to move, and with a *clank * the door swung free. The next chamber shattered all thoughts of this scape being on a planet, as the view of two worlds out the massive floor to ceiling transplas windows indicated. Their entry was at the highest tier in a 4 level control center, which level featured a rather ornate command chair one could only describe as a throne, in which the Guardian took her seat. Officers and crew worked tirelessly at a variety of stations, some human, others apearing to be an amalgamation of humans and machines, many of them barely recognizable.

Of the two worlds, one was surounded in a blue haze, the atmosphere peacefull and calm. The other was shrouded in dark, angry, forboding clouds, a sheet of red encasing it. "These are the two personalities you refer to," the guardian said. Pointing to the red, "Eve, the one you met first, and Valentina: the original patterns," to which she indicated the blue. "These patterns are genuine, but had been thought lost after the memory wipe. Let it not be forgotten that the human being in its entirety is a force to be reckoned with."

Nara was nothing less than surprised. It was awe-inspiring. Reminding her of a movie Saul had convinced her to watch called the "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." The name itself intriqued her and the movie was so full of horrible perversions of science and engineering, she had to laugh. The dolphins, however, were just about the truest thing of the movie.

She looked back at the Guardian, "What information am I allowed to convey? And is there anything we can do to help?"

"My programming does not include suficient computational lines to accurately process these requests," the Guardian replied as she looked upon the two worlds. "Likewise there are no restrictions that exist with which to prevent Eve, or Valentina as she is now known, from knowing or learning any information presented to her. Simply put, the reason she knows nothing is because these memory patterns were created prior to the Primogenitors aproach. I only caution that you monitor her mental welbeing. As to the actual merging of these two worlds, I have no postulations. Perhaps it will happen in it's own due time, perhaps it wil never happen. I have insuficient computational lines relating to organic memory processes to attempt these calculations."

"Are our conditions the same? You and these other beings aren't to be mentioned?"

"I have not previously placed any imperitive concerning information to be restricted from Eve's access, child." The guardian tapped a few commands into the consols built into the arms of the command throne. "Eve already knew that her existance in her curent form was due to a species external to Earth. Had more logs survived the entropic decay of the Primogenitor vessel she may have had more information available to her, none of which I have jurisdiction over. I am merely a Guardian. I protect her internal assets from threats and damages. All else is the perview of either the Avatar or the organic conscious mind."

"I mean from the doctors and her superiors. And her counselor. Perhaps the information that you exist...might help."

"Again, child: such activities are not within my perview."

Nara frowned, "Well, you threatened to kill me before."

The guardian loked over at Nara for a moment. "That was only when the System had yet to determine if you were a threat or not."

"I see. Is there anything else you can give me? Is there anything I can look at that I haven't seen yet?"

"Not at present," was the responce.

Nara sighed and nodded, "Thank you for your help."

Nara looked at the guardian again, "If she's survived such a long time, is her lifespan still as human? Is she now aging normally?"

"Eve's physical body survived as long as it has due to having been placed into suspended animation, something your technology is refered to as 'stasis.' However," the guardian continued, "I cannot caculate her current aging pattern. It is not within my protocol."

Nara nodded again, "I do hope we get Eve back. Until next time, Guardian."

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

Once more unto Reality

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The scape melted into reality without so much as a 'cherio.' Valentina's violet eyes slowly regained focus, and once she had the world back in perspective she cocked her head to the side. "Uh .. did you do something different? All I saw was blackness."

Nara frowned and shook her head. There wasn't as bad as side effects as usual, but she still felt the need to sit a moment, catching her breath and letting her mind settle.

- Hide quoted text -

After a few moments, Nara turned to Boris. "Is Saul still out there?" She turned to Valentina, "You have more than you know caring about your welfare. With that, you really will be ok. I'll tell more later."

"He should still be out there." Shtazai told her, looking confused.

“Definition of Home, Part Three; Memories of the Past”

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe - Assistant Chief of Engineering - USS Galaxy

***Location USS Galaxy***

As the doors hissed gently closed behind her, Dhanishta took a moment to look around the space. Kimberly's scent laced the air, something that Dhani had never noticed before. It was the little things that stuck out to strike you most. There was a haphazard pile of data padds stacked on one corner of her desk, looking like they would fall and slip to the floor with just the slightest movement. The pot plant behind her had certainly seen better days. There was little in the way of destruction to the room, either the battle didn't see fit to tear, rip or rattle this area of the ship to the point that the vibrations themselves caused fractures to the structure, or they had simply cleaned up already. Dhani was really too tired to bother to investigate further to attain the answer. Crossing the room she sat heavily on the couch and sunk back into it.

The sheer amount of pleasure she received from sitting down was almost perverse. The groan that escaped her lips as she exhaled slowly did nothing but add to the previous statement and almost pushed the whole image into an x rated novel! She closed her eyes and felt her head spinning slightly with fatigue. Her eyelids felt extremely heavy and the temptation to just lie down and succumb to the sleep her body and mind yearned for was overwhelming.

Pushing through it, her desire to be awake when Kimberly returned was strong. She was looking forward to seeing her, even if her anticipation showed little physical attributes; she was just too dammed tired. It had really snuck up on her as well. Pushing herself off the couch she crossed the room slowly using anything that was grababal to steady her along the way.

Knocking into the restroom door frame she bounced for a moment from side to side until she gathered enough energy to adjust her momentum into a forwards direction. Once inside she came to stand in front of the mirror.

For a while she just stood, looking, staring; mesmerized by the vision she saw. Is that really me? She asked herself. Squinting, she shuffled forward until she was pressed right up against the basin. Brining up her bloodstained hands to her face she touched it lightly, all the while watching her reflection intently; still completely shocked at what she saw.

She traced a finger over her dried, cracked, chapped lips, inhaling sharply she winced as the drag caused a split to open. She frowned and stared harder into the image in the mirror. Her dark green eyes had lost some of their spark, leaving them dull and flat. The dirt that covered her face hid the bruising on the skin underneath yet did nothing to hide the swelling. Running her finger over her temples she felt the rise and fall of the welts, at least they were symmetrical, she thought sourly as her fingers gingerly traced the curve on either side.

Her eyes trailed upwards to her forehead and the ‘thing' that rested above it. “OH MY GOD!” Dhani breathed as she brought her hands up as a secondary investigatory tool, “MY HAIR!”

It looked as if she had spent a week with her hand permanently in an electric socket. She had an afro larger than any she had seen. She shook her head, she had been only marginally aware of the fact that she had split ends, it happened, that was life, but *FRIED* ends!!!

She tried to smooth down the tangled mass so that she might at least look slightly presentable, yet to no avail. Not only was it matted worse than an overzealous backcombing session, parts of it were literally fused, melted together. She could have cried at that moment. She never realized how much she prided her long, silky, dark locks until this second. Right now the only thing she could think of to do was to pick up a razor and start shaving! Her breath caught in her chest for a moment as she stifled the want to weep over her it. Of all the things to be upset about! She turned her face away from the repulsive image and stared out across the bathroom for a moment.

Rubbing her eyes she bent over the skink and filled it with warm water. Rolling up her tatted, frayed sleeves she noticed just how much grime covered her. There was a noticeable tide mark around her wrists yet even so the dirt had traveled up her arms. Her fingernails were caked in dirt and the dried blood, that she assumed was Bailes, stained her cuticles.

Plunging her hands into the water she murmured softly, the warmth was comforting. Lathering up she washed as much of the imbedded dirt from her fingers, and then tenderly began to wash her face. Part of her was reluctant to do so though, and it wasn't because of the pain caused by her fingers as they gently rubbed the skin, it was deeper than that. She wanted to be clean, but on the inside too. Sure, she could wash away the blood, the dirt, the mud, the grime and the grit, but she couldn't wash away how she felt, she couldn't erase everything that had happened.

Drying her hands she patted down her face and once again returned her gaze to the mirror. Even her uniform told a story. With every hole, tear and rip, mud splat and grass stain. It was almost like reading a book. Her hand lingered over the spot where a large tear in her duty jacked remained; the only reminded of the fragment from the Galaxy that had impaled her as she was sucked out of the ship.

She sighed at herself, she looked better; she had to admit, even if the swelling bruising and general discoloration to her face wasn't pretty to look at. She unzipped her jacket to reveal her naked torso. She had long since lost her shirt, ripped it up to make a sling for Michael; all that remained was the collar that miraculously still held her pips. She smiled at that before her eyes fell on the dark purple bruises that marked her neck. Nice, she thought as she admired the oversized finger prints; another reminder.

It would heal, she knew that, the bruises would fade and her skin would show no signs of that fact that Baile had almost strangled her to death. All that would remain once she took off this uniform and her wounds healed would be the mental scars. And there was no dermal regenerator that could heal those wounds.

All in all, she summarized, she hadn't come off too badly. The large gash to her leg had been healed along with her guts on the T'Kengra, everything else; her swollen temples, split lip, general cuts and bruises, were all superficial. She closed her eyes exhaling slowly; she wished that the ordeal was as easy to dismiss. Feeling slightly refreshed, and marginally awake she trundled back into the main office.

Refusing to sit, afraid that sleep would just take her whether she wanted it to at this point or not, she began to pace the length of Kimberly's office.

It wasn't a large office, she realized on the tenth pass of the forlorn pot plant. In fact it was down right small, slightly suffocating really. Could really make you claustrophobic after a few hours. Perhaps days. It would take a longer incarceration to make someone succumb to that, wouldn't it?

When would Kimberly finish her rounds? How long had it been? How many people were out there? Did she really care? Was it important? Was anything important? She should really spring for a larger office! As the Chief Medical officer on a Starship she should have more room to work in. It's not an unreasonable request.

I wonder if Baile is okay. He could have died, he should have died! No normal human would have taken that shot and not. But he isn't a normal human. He's worse than that. I should have killed him when I had the chance. Why did I stop her? Or was that me? Did I want him dead, or did she?

Did she see what he was too, or was that just me? Does she know what I know? When will she come back? Will she take over me, will I cease to exist? Is she a parasite? What does that even mean? How did they get rid of them, I don't remember…

"Saturday Night Poker"

Death
Destrucion
Darkness
The Devil

Location: Devil's Padd-Seventh Layer of Hell

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

"Would you morons hurry up? She's going to be here in a while!" He brushed off his jacket, with his eyes scanning his surroundings. His goal, to impress her enough to stay with him for an eternity. She was coming!

The main foyer was large, and almost completely decored in dark crimson and elegant black gloss. A vase of black opulent long stemmed roses awaited her in a crystal Waterford vase. Only the best would do for his very important visitor. To him, it was more that just a normal Saturday night. For in a few days, his true love would arrive.

Upon hearing the dim chime of his door, he gasped. "Gooo on.....git."

His fleshy hand shoo'd the skeletoned maids from the room as they smirked him with mocking.

"Hey hey!" His baritone voice chimed as he entered. The Devil's face instantly fell as he viewed Destruction walking through the door, beer in hand as normal. "Poker night....bring on the booze, cigars, and underworld strippers!"

The Devil brought his hand up. "Stop right there."

"What?" Destruction quizzically posed.

"Your shoes....take them off.....Their filthy."

"But....."

"Do it." A few short blue flames shot out of the top of head, signalling that Devil was in no mood for games. At least, not know anyway.

"Fine. But I should warn you....I have a rather large hole in my sock....and my big toe sticks through it." Destruction mused as he pulled his shoes off and left them in a muddy heap by the entry way as he wiggled his rather large big toe.

With a snap of his fingers, the Devil produced a pair of socks and held them out to Destruction.

"I don't do Argyle Dev." The furrowed brow caused the foyer to start to shake.

"Yes, you do....and stop that!"

"What is your problem? Did Houdini sneak up on you and give you another colossal wedgie this afternoon?"

"Grow up." The Devil pivoted on his foot as the door bell rang yet again.

"WASSSSSUPPPPP????" Came the overly buoyant voice of Darkness as he slid through the door in a style only Darkness could pull off.

"WASSSSUUUPPPP!" The reply came back to him. Destruction walked over, gave him a high five that showered dust all over the once dust free foyer.

"Damn it Destruction! Keep your hands to yourself will you? I just finished remodeling this place from last week when you inebriated yourself on Jose Cuervo." The Devil smirked with anger.

"Well, hey..I offered to hold poker night over at my place...."

Destruction offered innocently.

Darkness glanced sideways, shooting him a look of utter disdain.

"Um.....didn't the health department condemn your place over a year ago?"

"Yep!" Destruction stated proudly.

"Boyaa Baby!" Death announced flamboyant as he formed from his mist.

"Wassssuppppp."

"Wazzzzzzzzzzzzzuup?"

"Oh would you guys give me a fucking break already? That went out with the 2003 Superbowl." The Devil was obviously not in a jovial mood.

Pointing his index finger at Darkness, Death spoke. "Houdini again?"

Darkness just shrugged. "I have no clue."

"Oh..." Death smirked. "'She's' coming in a few days. I just got the order for delivery early this afternoon."

"She?" Destruction muttered.

"Boy, you really are few conduits short of a full panel, aren't you?"

Darkness chided. "You know....she she?"

It took a moment as The Devil waved his hands until the eternal light bulb lit up in Destruction's head. "Ohhhhhh." He smiled. "She."

"Come on you guys...Let's get this game started." The Devil pivoted on his heels, leading them to the game room.

"Hey....um....you have the mud pit set up this week?" Darkness asked in anticipation.

The Devil looked over his shoulder. "Yeah.....the repair guy finally came out to fix the side after that lusty minion popped the side of it with her talon."

A peaceful look washed over Death's face. "That....was one hell of a match."

"Ante up boys...the night's young." Devil announced as they found their usual seats around the elegant poker table.

"Spring Cleaning"

Ella Grey
8-ball Hunter
Samantha Widdlestein, npc

***

USS Galaxy

In the short time that Ella had known the infamous Samantha Widdlestein, she'd never seen the young girl speechless.

Until now.

Samantha's mouthed worked a few times before the girl gathered herself, narrowed her eyes with suspicion and asked the engineer to repeat what she had just said.

Ella repeated herself. Samantha looked dumbfounded.

"ALL of it?" Sam practically sqweeked. "You wan't me to take ALL of it."

"Well, aside from what 8-ball wants and the things that I've already taken. Yes," Ella replied.

Samantha blinked. Then giggled and jumped up and down a bit. Then calmed and looked over at the science officer. "That sparkly blue dress is MINE."

8-ball shrugged. "Have it. I don't DO sparkles. I like a little more slink." 8-ball fingered the long red dress with the slits up the thighs. "This. This is mine." She sipped her drink (wasn't hanging with Ella if there weren't brownies and booze around) and looked speculatively at her favorite, and only, mute-ish friend. "You sure you want to do this? You got some nice damn dresses in this collection."

"I kept a couple that I might want someday but I think I need to free up some space, especially if I get where I'm going. Sam, that dress will never fit you."

"I got a friend I was thinking of," Samantha replied defensively.

8-ball ignored Sam. She wasn't entirely used to having the little brat around anyway, but the second she said something, she knew Sam would say something like, "But you tortured me!" As 8-ball did indeed torture Sam, she couldn't really say much. It made things awkward.

Instead, she said to Ella, "I still feel like I'm missing a connection here. You're going to be a fighter pilot. . .therefore you're never allowed to wear a cute dress again? Fill in the blanks for me."

"I'm all about grand gestures," Ella said, snagging up a red stringed bikini that she had forgotten. "Besides, how many fighter pilots do you know who own last year's entire fall collection of [fill in blank]? Do you think I should cut my hair?"

"Yeah, I think you should shave it. Cause most of the fighter pilots I know are all bald and super muscle-y." 8-ball rolled her eyes. "What do you care what dresses the other fighter pilots have? This isn't Starfleet Junior High."

"Sure it is," She replied. "But this is really more for me anyway and as much as a hair cut or a dress doesn't make you a fighter pilot, it might make me feel less like a debutante who's trying to play at one.

I know I can do it, of course, but any extra boost in ego is always helpful."

8-ball sighed. "Okay, okay. Whatever floats your boat." She studied Ella's face, frowned, and shook her head. "Get rid of the dresses if you must, but I don't think short hair is for you. You don't have the right face shape for it." She glanced over at Sam. "What do you think, shrimp?"

"I think this is SO my color," Sam replied, holding up a pale pink halter.

"Thank you, Sam, for that wonderful contribution. That is so helpful. I don't even have the words."

"It's amazing that I can contribute at all," Sam said brightly. "It's been a harrowing couple of weeks, not to mention the mental and physical scars or previous torture, the hours of therapy I've had to endure because of it, the lack of any real passion for my creative genuis, the monumental waste of ..."

"Oh, shut up, Sam."

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part V

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)

Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)
Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Represenative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

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

First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar

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

Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan

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We must ensure that we are prepared, and strong enough to prevent this from 'ever' happening again!"

Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran shook his head with pursed lips and roseonce again. "That is naive talk and will only further our own desolation, not enhance our strength. We need those trade treaties, the ability to expand our commerce beyond the crippled economy that envelopes Romulus and our member worlds. Without a strong business sector and thriving economy, we're staring into the jaws of a major recession. That is a future we 'cannot' afford!"

Rital waited and watched. Valdran and himself seemed to be of fairly like minds... hardly surprising giving the former's economics background and the rare opportunity presented to the surviving industrial areas, such as Ch'Yem, to play an important and profitable role in rebuilding the Empire, and their homeworld. Truth be told, he didn't like the so called 'compromise' offered. It still meant Federation personnel would have knowledge of what was constructed, how it was constructed... outside of the immediate security concerns it also took away opportunities from his fellow citizens. Nope, it seemed a polite 'Thank you but we'll manage' followed by long, excruciating peace talks to buy them time was the best way to go.

"Yes," Kaidalin drawled with a sigh, folding her arms across her abdomen, "That much is clear to us as well. Now...it seems to us that a majority of you are in favor our accepting aid from the Federation. Under normal circumstances, we ourselves might disagree with such a judgment and side with Senator Rital. However, the circumstances of the Rihannsu are far from normal." The Empress smiled ever so slightly first in Rital's direction and then at Dhivael, "If We thought there was time, Senators, it would indeed be best to use our own 'tears and sweat' to rise again. However, the Galae must be rebuilt and rebuilt quickly. The Empire cannot stand otherwise."

The Empress t'Vriesu drew in a deep breath and continued, "So 'for practical purposes in a hopelessly practical world', We propose the following - for the time being, as a short term policy the Rihannsu will accept aid from the Federation in order to rebuild that infrastructure and industry which is necessary for the Galae and our planetary defenses. For all other needs, we will turn to the other worlds in the Empire and the open market. We will not take as alms any more than we now must. During this rebuilding process, on a trial basis and currently as a temporary measure, we will also endorse Senator Rital's 'Citizenship for Service' program, in order to encourage self help by the Declared and others in the Empire. We have heard you, Senators, and that is the proposal from the Throne. These effect of these policies will be monitored and they will be up for a Senate vote again in two years. What say you?"

"I say you're rushing the vote, Empress. We've been here for all of what, one verak, and we're ready to make a decision that is to remain legally bound for two years? That's a long time to pay for a rushed decision." The Proconsul stood up to take the floor. "My apologies for interrupting, but this is an extremely important decision to be made. It cannot be done with hardly any discussion of alternatives."

"The what is it you suggest, Proconsul? Be careful, We will tolerate no unnecessary delays."

"The Federation seems determined to offer its aid. To the point of being overbearing and intimidating. They know they are in a position of bargaining power, yet they also need us for a buffer defense of their border. How do we know the next time the Triad attacks they won't retreat and not return? They could simply be using us as fodder for their war."

His eyes penetrated each person in the room. "Yes, *THEIR* war. If we enter into their program of assistance, we'll then be obligated by mnhei'sahe to provide their war machine with our materials and personnel. Where is our rebuilding process in that plan? We'll become part of a war we did not ask for. The Hydrans baited the Federation into committing their forces to our world for a reason. They do not want us allying with them. Up until they arrived with my dead son - whom the Federation could not protect on their mighty ship I might add - the Hydrans had no interest in us.

"Why not open a diplomatic function with them, and establish a non-aggression treaty? The one we had with the Dominion during the war served us well. It allowed us to build our fleet with no outside interests preying on our doorstep. If the Federation so heartily wishes to offer us aid, let them do it from anywhere but ch'Rihan. Let us revive Rihan's Pride on our own terms, on our planet. Let the people create a memory of standing on their own two feet and picking up the rubble and dead with their own hands, and take honor in what they did for themselves! There is no other incentive and motivation for defending a world you built with your own flesh and blood. Not one shared with offworlders like beggars in the street. We are the Rihanha. We do not need assistance. What would that say to our subjects? Let the Federation fight their own wars, and leave us out of it.

We can seek supplies and trade goods with other worlds. Let us explore developing a partnership with the Reman Protectorate, who also have a healthy distrust of the Federation.

"I do not apologize, but if you are determined to count the ballot on this motion, I cast my vote as NO to Federation assistance. I do not wish my children to grow up a mockery of their former glory, or learning dependence on anyone but their own people. Especially after knowing one of the Federation you wish to beg for help killed the leader of the government. You who would vote yes would throw aside your pride for the sake of a cup of tea, or a cushy pillow. Where is your PASSION?"

The dark eyes of Kaidalin t'Vriesu narrowed dangerously and she rose from the throne, regal and imperious. "Sit down, *Omar*," she commanded, emphasizing her use of the man's name. "And remember who it is you address.

I grant you only this: your sense of mnhei'sahe is either odd or confused."

The Proconsul simmered under the Empress' withering gaze, but knew he could not prolong a continued battle without support. He was not alone in his stance, but the others would not oppose the will of the Empress. Not if they wanted to replace the Praetor they did not know was still alive and watching from his personal niche. Omar seethed underneath, realizing the trap Hitan had placed him in by forcing him to either stand with the issues the Empress and tr'Chandrix' supported, or play out his cards and destroy all hope in ascending to the Praetorship. He *needed* his Tal Shi'ar influence on the Senate again, if he were to take ch'Rihan back to the slendor it once enjoyed, and re-anoint its heavenly seat in the cosmos.

t'Vriesu turned to the Senators and shook her head, "Will you go groveling to the Remans - the same people who assassinated our Senate - for help? How soon have you forgotten your fathers and brothers, in whose very places you sit. Will you reject aid that is given freely, and beg the Triad not to attack you - the very people who have just finished devastating this world?

Will you trust the promises of people that keep no oaths and honor no bond?

Will you let their ships pass over your own undefended worlds, trusting those without mnhei'sahe to keep themselves from conquering an Empire that is ripe for the plucking...because of their word?"

With a weary sigh, she added, "And will you also go asking the Klingons for restraint, while we take our sweet time in rebuilding the Galae? Do you think they will not take this chance to finally avenge their previous losses to us? By the Elements - Will you trust those who are not the Declared within our fold not to use this opportunity to rise up and rebel against the Empire?"

"Will you hold on to your pride, like children worrying about lost toys, while the sky is falling? Will you cut the throats of your own children to spite your enemies? Yes, there is a time for passion - but unbridled passion, like untempered pride, is foolishness. This is a time for cunning, for careful planning, not rampant emotions and stubborn ego," she added, whirling upon Omar once again, she added almost mildly added, "Besides, Proconsul, you have no vote here unless the Senators tie. I should have thought you would have remembered that...but wounded pride and unthinking emotion can often lead us to mistakes."

"My pride is what sustains me." Unlike others. They thought only of the pretty trinkets the Federation would replicate for them.

"We have heard enough here. The discussion on this matter is going in circles, and time precious for the Rihannsu now. There are other matters of importance that the Senate must address. So, Senators, We call a vote.

Those in favor of our proposition will rise."

There was a moment of silence. t'Vriesu waited. Omar once again took his seat.

She had initated a risky gambit - one that could have failed even before Omar's rant. Seeing that she had enough support for letting her accept Federation aid, Kaidalin had added a rider to her proposition - Rital's 'Citizenship for Service' plan. It would allow non-Rihannsu to become full citizens of the Empire, going a long way towards her personal dream of increasing the social equality among her subjects. Empires did not fall because of outside forces - Empires fell because of injustice, be it social or legal.

With the rider, she hoped to gain Rital's vote at the very least. And she hoped that support for Federation aid would be enough to overwhelm Khiy ir-Kvurkhae's hatred for all races non-Rihannsu long enough for her to gather his vote as well. The young Empress had seen what a sharp division among political views had done to the Federation, with their Hawks and their Doves. She was determined to make certain that a unity remained within her people's hearts and minds, for if that failed...all would be lost. After the Proconsul's violent outburst, however, the two sides may have gotten polarized once again.

There were ten Senators present. The Empress and the Star Navy's representative, Admiral Ael Donatra, had no votes. Omar voted in case of a tie...and he had already voiced his opinion. It would take six votes for Kaidalin to prevail.

So she stood, the weight of an Empire on her young shoulders, and waited for the Senate.

"What the?"

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister
1st Lt Steven Jonas

Location: Lower Promenade, Deep Space Five
____________________________________

She grasped his hand, walking beside him like a proper couple should.

They did not stick out, except for the fact that they had love in their eyes and everyone saw it. It radiated out from them brightly, causing their lost focus to be an easy target to some less than savory person.

Steven was in paradse. Having Faylin in his life had brought him back from the personal hell he had been going through. She was his shining star, guiding him from the path to destruction and towards the heavens themselves. He was in love. Plain and simple. And the thought that she loved him back as much as he love her sent him into the stratosphere.

So enraptured with Faylin was he, that he almost missed the man that was coming at them with a knife in hand.

"Look out" he called as he tried to push Faylin behind him. The man backhanded him with a force that sent him flying to the ground. "Fay..." he called just before he landed.

"Steven...let me handle this." They found her already.

Sighing, she circled the pair as they fought. Steven would be no match for this guy, period. He was coming for her. What didn't make sense was the choice of weapon. Knifes were so....primative.

Obviously, David did not truly have any faith in her.

Shaking his head grogily, he tried to stand. "No Fay, let me fight him. He'll kill you."

She nodded, knowing full well she could not vocalize her feeling concerning the man that had all his focus on her. Faylin narrowed her gaze at him, warning him with her eyes. Moving into position, she smirked as he tossed the knife from his left hand to his right. This man could not be a part of IS, for if he was, David had just scrapped the bottom of the Ferengi chum barrell for this one. He finally chose a hand and gripped the knife tighly, waving it at her. She waited patiently until the top of his hand was pointing down towards the ground. When this occured, she sharply brought her foot up forcefully, kicking the knife away.

He charged at Faylin, kicking her with a round house to her mid section. Barreling over in pain, she groaned and backed up a step.

Straightening herself out again, she charged back, punching him with a left fist that landed on his right cheek.

Finally managing to get to his feet, as wobly as they now were, he stepped forward to help Faylin, who seemed very capable against the man with the knife. Almost too capable. Shaking the thought, he took a stepp towards the man. He wasn't going to let Fay have to fight him by herself. She shouldn't have to fight at all.

"Steven....back off!" She muttered plainly.

Steven couldn't believe that she was waving him off. He was the Marine, she the JAG. It should be him protecting her. Ignoring her comment, he stepped towards the man, but received a kick to his stomach for his troubles, sending him flying to the ground again.

Advancing, she brought her foot up, kicking the man in the groin. If all else fails, kick them in the nuts. She heard her initial instructor's voice in her mind. It was as clear as a bell as it was the first time she heard his advice many years ago. Watching him fall, she failed to notice Steven's full attention on her.

As Faylin's eyes glassed over and narroed, her hands raised, gluing themselves to the sides of his face. Digging her nails in his skin, Faylin swiftly pulled apart the c6/c7 vertebrea, causing a tear across the mid of his neck. Instantaneous death as well as a nice crisp cracking noise caused McAlister to shudder with dirty pleasure. Her hands crossed her chest and she took a small step backwards as she watched him fall face first to the deck plate. Her eyes once again glazed mysteriously as the thud of his dead body filled her with satisfaction. Wipping her hands on her black pants, she turned to watch Steven's horror laced face. "What?"

Steven just sat there, watching wide-eyed at her actions. "You just..."

"I know. Just a second." Walking over to the corner, Faylin took a device from her pocket and spoke into it, varifying her location and ordering a 'clean up.' Flipping the device shut, she came up beside Jonas and grasped his hand. "We need to get out of here.....now."

Steven allowed her to help bring him to his feet. "Okay, but what the heck just happened?"

"Retribution." Faylin stated simply.

Steven kept up as she took off away from the scene. She was avoiding the question, he could see that. But the clean crisp way she dispatched the man was something even he, in his ten plus years in the Marines had never seen. "There's something you aren't telling me, isn't there?"

Sighing, she permitted her vision to look left, then right. Pulling him into a darkened ally, she placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a look of total confidence. "Steven. You do not know who I am."

"I realize that, but I want to. I really want to know you." He said as he placed his hands on hers and squeezed gently.

Swallowing, she pulled her hands down to her sides. "I am in big trouble right now, and it's nothing that you can help me with." She had just made a crutial decision, although she could not tell him right now, if ever. Faylin had to go to the Captain as soon as they arrived back on the ship....perhaps.

"I know some people, they could probably help." Steven said.

Faylin just shook her head. "I apprechaite it, but no."

"Okay... I'll respect your wishes. I do want to know, but I will wait until you are ready to tell me." He drew her close and kissed her. "I love you Fay. And that was an impressive display of yours."

McAlister glanced sideways at him. "It was nothing....really." And in all honestly, that little display was nothing.

"Lets get out of here." he said as he took her hand.

"Yeah.....lets."

"The Chalet"

Lt. jg. Faylin McAlister
1st Lt. Steven Jonas

****

Holodeck 4

****

Steven was psyched. He had spent the last day preparing for the evening and he was eager to have it be a success. He had the holodeck booked for three hours, which wasn't something that usually occurred,

- the usual maximum limit being 2 hours - but he knew a few people in the right places and they had allowed it. He hoped she would like the setting he had chosen for their quiet time alone together.

So he stood waiting for Faylin, who had just had a meeting with the Captain. He hadn't a clue what it was about, but as with everything in Faylin's life, it was something he had to put up with. He just hoped one day she could let him in on all the secrecy.

The door swished open and there she stood before him.

"Hi." he said in greeting.

"Hey stranger." Fay leaned over, kissing him lightly.

Returning her kiss with interest, he felt more alive than he had in ages. God he hoped this worked.

Pulling away for a moment, he spoke, "Computer, load program Jonas-Delta-Three" before turning to see Faylin's reaction as the holodeck grid was replaced the the beautiful snow covered mountain setting he had chosen. Their clothes change from their uniforms into climbing gear. A small chalet could be seen nestled in some trees up the mountain a short way.

Protection, a curious word. Faylin thought to herself as she walked along with Steven. The protection M'Kantu could offer her, in reality, was not much. But, it was better than nothing. She also discovered that once he was aware of her involvement in IS, he....wasn't too happy. Understandable. Yet, as she understood his position and offer, she knew he did not fully understand her stance and position.

It was best if she just took it all in her own stride.

"Shall we go?" Steven asked with a smile as he pointed towards the chalet.

"Sure, what's going on Steven? This is a lot of work just for dinner....." She answered.

"I thought we could just get away from it all for a few hours. Relax and enjoy each other's company. I have the holodeck booked for three hours. Or would you prefer to go back to work?"

"Oh, I think this will work for while." McAlister stated with a simple manner.

Steven took her hand and they started up the short distance to the chalet.

Though the snow was not deep, it gently fell from the heavens creating a blanket of powder that gave the mountain a wonderful glow.

As they reached the door, Steven let Faylin walk in first. He hoped the candles and incense gave off the right mood for the evening. He wanted it to be perfect. The roaring fire, wine, and huge platters of all sorts of wonderful things, and especially the big bowl of Strawberries that lay in the center. It was perfect. Would Faylin see it that way.

"Those are some big strawberries." She giggled as she recalled how she teased him their first date.

"Care for some wine?" he asked as they settled down on the blanket inside.

"K." Contentment filled her for once. If this was how it was meant to be....being with someone for more than a few dates, she could handle it. There was only one thing that stood in her way. One agency that continued to hold her happiness in the palm of it's hand.

Steven smiled as he poured two glasses of wine. He was only going to have one. He was still recovering for all that alcohol he had consumed weeks ago, and he was sparingly drinking anything that had alcohol in it.

This was a special occasion though, and it called for it. He handed her one of the wine glasses.

Faylin took a sip of the wine, permitting it to gently glide down her throat. "So, what else does my baby have planned?"

"Well, for starters a little of this." he said as he leant forward and kissed her passionately.

"Yeah?" McAlister grinned, totally enraptured by the show he was putting on just for her.

"And, if you're hungry for anything other than me, " he grinned, "then there is plenty of food."

Arching an eyebrow, she surveyed the food. Reaching for a plate, his voice made her stop for a moment. She turned all her attention to him and kissed him yet again.

"Hang on a moment." he said pulling back from the kiss. "There's something I need to do." Standing up, he moved over to a table in the corner and turned on the antique player, letting the romantic music begin to play. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small object.

Glancing down, he took a deep breath. This was it, the moment of truth. Sure, it was way to early and she'd probably say no, but after they had been attacked on the station, he realized he couldn't live without her.

He quickly closed his hand, the one holding the ring, into a fist as he felt her hands encircle his waist.

"How did you know? I mean...where did you find this song?" Etta James song 'At Last' crooned in the atmosphere. Her eyes softened.

"It took a lot of effort to find this particular song. There wasn't much in the database to help me." He smiled, happy that the song was indeed her favorite.

"You always surprise me Steven." Leaning in, she hugged him.

Faylin's face looked past his shoulder, her chin tucked down just a ways. Looking at her, her face held much of the same expression her daughter's did the day Saul watched Faylin carry Olivia down the corridor. She felt secure and loved.

Steven extracted himself from her loving embrace and turned to look into her eyes. "I'm glad everything is perfect cause there is one more thing." He paused. He had gone over what he was going to say over and over again, yet now that he stood in front of her, he couldn't remember what it was he was going to say, so he just made it up as he went. "I know we've only been back together for a month now, but I know I want you in my life always. I want to be there for you, and you for me..."

McAlister swallowed hard. Closing her eyelids, then opening them, her mind refused to focus on Steven. It kept whipping back to the conversation with David. 'It's been nice knowing you McAlister.' Her heart rate quickened. With all the things she was going through, she at last found what she wanted most. Faylin wanted this.....

"I had this whole speech in my head but seeing you here looking so amazing made it slip from my mind. So all I'm gonna say is I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I don't mind if you want to wait three years or more before the day, but," He dropped to one knee and produced the ring. "Faylin McAlister, Will you marry me?"

Duty dictated the the woman standing was trained to be calm, cool, and collected. Except when her boyfriend was proposing marriage to her.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again as he patiently crouched on one knee. The good tension in the air, made it difficult for her to breath. "As in....be your wife?"

"Do you know of another definition for the words 'will you marry me'?" He asked with a smile. "Yes, as in being my wife."

"Wife..." She was purely teasing him now. "Well...."

Steven shook his head slightly. "Don't leave me hanging here Fay."

A smile lit up her face. "Yes, Steven. I will marry you." In a second, she felt herself lifted up into the air. Out of amazement, she gasped, scrabbling to get a hold of anything part of Jonas' body she could use to steady herself as he spun her around. "STEVE!"

Steven smiled as he whirled her around. He was the happiest man in the universe and nothing could change that. Save perhaps that he might wake up and find it all a dream. But it wasn't, this was real, and she had said yes. Lowering her to the ground, he reached up for her hand and carefully slid the ring onto her finger.

"This was my mother's ring. It is all I have of her left and I..." Tears formed, happy tears, and he had to stop talking for a moment.

Chuckling, she embraced him yet again. At this point in time, she felt nothing could hurt her, let alone kill her.

"Deliverance, Part I"

Lieutenant Branwen London, SFMC
Lieutenant Magnus Nielsen, Botanist, Ship's Chaplain (NPC)

Sickbay, USS Galaxy
================

The tall man stood out from the other people in Sickbay. Certainly his height set him apart, bordering close to seven feet, but it was his awkward detachment from the area's busy activity that caused his presence to be noticed - in the busy ebb and flow of a crowded sickbay, few people these days had time or patience for someone like the newcomer. The Reverend Magnus Nielsen, Lutheran chaplain and ship's botanist, didn't mind - gingerly, he weaved through the milling medical staff until he saw the one person in the ward who wanted to see him there.

"Hello again Lieutenant London!", he said smiling, his deep bass voice barely a whisper. "I wish we could meet under less trying circumstances."

"Father." Branwen smiled happily. She tried to sit up straight to in bed, but was still restricted by everything that was attached to her. "I'm so glad to see you."

The large man's brow furrowed as he looked at the young woman's bloodshot eyes. "Me too Lieutenant... me too. What happened on ch'Rihan was terrible, and I'm very thankful you've made it through.

As you can imagine, the aftermath has given me much to do. I see the Almighty's still has plans for you - but how *are* you, tubes and medicines aside?"

"I am much better, Father. But I am glad to see you. Something has been on my mind, when we last met I left in rather a hurry, and you forgot to instruct me in forms of punishment. I have tried to sin no more in the meantime. And I am very sorry I have not been to church regularly."

Nielsen's eyes widened at Branwen's words. "Sin? Punishment?

Lieutenant - you weren't listening to me the last time we met... or you didn't hear what you wanted to. You haven't sinned, and you've done nothing that merits punishment. What happened with the emerald woman you described wasn't your fault. As I told you, it was a product of her biology... it was the way in which God created her people. If you've other sins, you left them behind on ch'Rihan."

The tall Norwegian looked at a bald, older physician Branwen had become all too familiar with. "Doctor Mathieson told me of what you accomplished under the Rihannsu capital - dozens, perhaps hundreds are alive today because you ran the hospital unit there." He smiled at the sick woman before him, amused at the confusion on her face. "Sins are absolved by good deeds and the desire to live a virtuous life - based on what's happened over the last three weeks, how can you say you've done otherwise?"

The tears flowed freely from her eyes. "Truly? You are such a kind man, so unlike the priest I knew growing up. You think God... God truly loves me."

More tears.

Nielsen's smile vanished. "How could He not? You've given Him so much to be proud *of*, Lieutenant. A virtuous life is it's own reward, as the old saying goes - but it's also the best way of showing and proving God's love."

"They don't understand, Father. My father and our priest always told me what a bad child I was, and that I could never atone enough. After I left home they said I was cursed, our priest wrote to me that he will personally see to it that I go to hell." She was quiet for a little bit. "But now, and was only trying to atone a little down on the planet. I failed at so much, there were children asking for my help and I could not." She choked.

"And instead of being angry you tell me that god loves me and will not give me more punishment, and the captain promoted me. I don't understand."

"They're no longer responsible for you, Lieutenant", the vicar offered gently. "You've taken responsibility for yourself, and now you need to think of the values you've learned - not the ones... beaten into you. Whoever taught you that the word of the Lord is accented by the strike of the rod has no business dealing with people, let alone a child. Embrace your new life, and believe that you're worthy of the graces your virtue merits."

"IT's difficult. I know I have tried since my sister rescued me. She is 14 years older then I am and she still struggles with it herself. Things learnt in childhood are very difficult to get rid off. Sometimes I don't know what to believe and what is right or wrong."

After some hesitation the tall Norwegian gave the marine a penatrating stare, making thedecision to finally deal with what had been danced around for so long. "Then we should speak of your childhood Lieutenant. I think you've been running from that conversation for quite long enough, don't you?"

Her eyes grew large, then she swallowed.

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part VI

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)

Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)
Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Represenative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

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

First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar

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

Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan

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

So she stood, the weight of an Empire on her young shoulders, and waited for the Senate.

Then Tolon Kerec stood. With him rose Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen. Then Sh'rev t'Sannellieu. After a moment, Delon ir-Fethraie rose to join them.

Four.

There was a long pause.

And then stood Aren Rital.

And then Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh and s'Tei.

Seven.

She had them.

Empress Kaidalin stood tall, her heart pounding with pride and victory. They were together, her people, whatever their reasons, doing what she knew in the very depths of her soul to be right. She fought back relief, she fought back happiness, she fought back the tearful and desperate desire that her parents could see her now....

Still the Senate continued to speak. Slowly, Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae stood as well.

Eight.

Tal'aehkhifv Khev slowly rose to his full height, out of the need of the so-called Federation Aid. It was that need for the aid that would help them become strong again. It would be just like his colleague had said; The Federation would waste precious resources in order to rebuild them and then pray to their loathsome gods that the Rihannsu would remain their allies.

The fools.

The vote stood at Nine.

"The Senate has spoken for the Declared," Kaidalin announced in a careful, measured tone. "So We now order that Ambassador Aerv tr'Ahalaen begin talks with the Federation to arrange for the aid agreed upon here today, and invest him with such executive authority and discretion as he might find necessary to achieve his ends in the name of the Declared. Of Senator Rital, who was suggested the idea, and of Tolon Kerec, who stood first, we ask that they collaborate to further the 'Citizenship for Service' Plan and its objectives...for the Declared."

The Empress then drew a deep breath. This was but one victory, complete though it was, she reminded herself. The Battle for Romulus had been won...however, there were still much fighting to be done before the sun set on the Battle for the Rihannsu. Returning to the throne, she began to fight...again.

"We move on now to our concerns about our intelligence agencies. It is obvious to us that serious consideration must be given to reform and restructure both the Tal'Shiar and the RNI, and that methods to hold them accountable need to be found. We open the floor to suggestions."

"Again, by her majesty's permission." Rital wasn't necessarily in favor of accepting Federation aid, but then again who among them would be so incredulous as to cast a vote against the recommendations of the Empress? If out of nothing more than respect for the title, he was enticed to acquiesce.

"Our intelligence agencies seem to have often engaged in squabbling amongst each other, wasting resources that might be better applied to accruing information on the powers outside the Empire, and their influences inside.

May I suggest the Tal Shiar's mission be centered around internal security measures, and expanded to include more than simple internal espionage?

There are any number of additional responsibilities that may best be handled by them, in addition to the traditional role of counter-espionage. I would also recommend the RNI be chartered exclusively for external intelligence gathering missions, pertaining to the tactical capabilities of our neighbors and opposing forces. A new agency may be better suited to handling the role of strategic and political intelligence gathering...by clearly separating these three fields we can help curb these 'turf wars' that have seemed to adversely effected our capabilities."

Having given up on the thought of getting comfortable in his chair t'Sannellieu had remained standing, but leaning on his desk while the Empress spoke. Stepping forward to indicate his desire to talk he waited until he was ackowledged. Bowing again he raised his voice to be heard, "If I may ask, why create new agencies, why split them even further and create more divides. It is these divisions that have caused so many problems in the past. Why not simply amalgamate them all under one roof. One director, overseen by members of this very senate, and his assistants, again overseen by us, who will run the various sections of this agency. Surely one organisation will be easier to run, manage and coordinate than many? And yes," he agreed to the as yet unspoken thought, "one agency is easier to infiltrate, which is why we will have dedicated teams to prevent this, and why I propose placing this agency on the one place few if any offworlders or non Rihannsu for that matter have ever gone. Ch'Havran." he said, referring to the planet known to the Federation as Remus.

"That is the most ridiculous notion I have ever heard, Senator t'Sannellieu.

Your prized Federation tried that, and still it fails to protect itself.

Who will police the police, then? The Senate you say? And who provides the Senate with the hard-earned information? Can you say any of your lives to obtain that which is needed to protect your interests? The Senate has been known to be the most corrupt aspect of all. I would sooner see the Tal Shiar regain their seat on the Senate. Just to make sure you are keeping their interests close to your hearts, as the Senate has in the past with the RNI.

"You're basing your opinions on amalgamating the two departments based on what? A video feed of an interrogation that cannot be proven to be truthful?" Omar waved his hand absently, the jewels glinting in the firelight. "You are old. These matters should not be of concern to you. You should be more concerned with the fact that the Tal Shiar has been shunted aside for the last three years. It's all too easy to blame them for the invasion, isn't it? How do we know it wasn't you providing false data to throw off attention from you? Or any of you?" He turned back to the Empress.

"See how easy it is to objectify any argument without facts? We cannot make decisions based on emotion. We must establish infrastructure and policy first. I say we elect a new Tal Shi'ar Chairman first, and give them equal representation on the Senate."

The Empress raised a pert eyebrow at the Proconsul, "Come now, Omar...just a few minutes ago you were arguing for passion, not reason." She gave him a playful smile, "If you keep this up, you will have me quite confused.

I...." The young woman caught herself and corrected her slip, "We are not prepared to begin handing out seats in the Senate - certainly no intelligence agency is going to get a vote if the Galae does not," t'Vriesu declared, nodding towards Ael Donatra, "As for an advisory position to observe....we will take your suggestion under advisement."

Omar bit back a retort, coming to a realization of a simple fact that he was powerless to effect any kind of change during this point in the debates.

The Empress was weak, yes, but she had the favor of many of the Senators, for no reason other than the ones remaining had no spine. The fact he was received with a notice of 'advisement', though condescending, was better than an outright refusal. He needed to take Hitan out, and soon, while he was still in isolation. The Federation-loving destroyer of the Rihan culture was spreading his cancer amongst the others, especially the Empress, who he thought was acting out of honor to the 'fallen' Praetor. Such heart.

Bleeding, that is. Her passion was in the wrong place.

"The Strength of Conviction" - Part VII

Starring:
Empress Kaidalin t'Vriesu, Leader of the Rihannsu Empire (Syed)

Proconsul Omar, Head of the Rihannsu Senate (Ian)
Senator Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae, Representative of the Declared (Eric)
Senator Tal'Aehkhifv Khev of Khev'Nveid Province (Jeremy)
Senator Dhivael t'Vrentath of Korthre Province (Kat)
Senator Khiy ir-Kvurkhae Keirianh of Kvurkhae (Chad)
Senator Aren Rital, Represenative of Ch'Yem (Chris)
Senator Tal Vriha tr'Ahalaen of the Nn'verih Province (Syed)
Senator Sh'rev t'Sannellieu of the Chula Province (Robert S)
Senator Raev Maec s'Tei of Kotor Province (Cliff)
Senator Delon ir-Fethraie Valdran of Fethraie Province (Jola)
Senator Tolon Kerec, representative of Baratan Province (Pat)
Admiral Ael Donatra, Acting Commander, Rihannsu Star Navy (Pat)

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

First Month of Earth (Khaidoa nuhwir s'Avilh)
Second Week (Dhaei nukrer)
Day 192, Rihan Calendar

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

Remains of Hall of Senate
Ki Baratan
ch'Rihan

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

"As for the appointment of a new chair for the Tal Shi'ar," the Empress reminded them all, "That is the province of a Praetor. Until such time as he

- well, as We said, We will take your suggestions into consideration.

However, the floor is still open with regards to the structure of our intelligence agencies."

It was this oppertune moment that Tal Khev had been waiting for, after watching with great interest his fellow Senators pick up the sparring match on the floor after he'd sat back down. Now he rose to his feet once more.

"If I may, your highness," he said softly with a head bow and a smile that could light up the darkest sky. "Why not bolster up the Tal Shi'ar?" he asked. "If we are not keen on giving a chairman for the Tal Shi'ar equal standing on the Senate, then why not simply give the position to a Senator who is already in place? Someone who has experience in the Tal Shi'ar already?" he asked. Tal opened his arms wide, almost as if he were taking in all of the Senate. "There are many of us here who have served in the military already, and even a couple of us who have served in the Tal Shi'ar." he pointed out.

The Proconsul's heartrate increased. He hadn't anticipated this. All Senators had skeletons in their closet. Ones worthy of blackmail and extortion. He paid rapt attention to Tal Khev.

"Many different agencies will only promote the 'turf wars' that you seek to prevent. We should go with what has been tried and tested. We should elect one of our own Senators to take up the reigns of the Tal Shi'ar and have them rebuild the agency. That way they can keep the Senate directly apprised of what is going on."

"With all due respect, Senator." Aren spoke calmly, and as politely as he knew how. There was little reason to fear debate after all. "A single agency would accrue the power, ultimately, to challenge the political leadership of our people for control. We all feel passionately about what is right for our people, from the masses to the Empress herself. We all have different ideas... I for one argued against the acceptance of Federation aid, and voted for it in the end anyway. Why? Faith, fellow senators. Trust... words that have for too long been functionally absent in these halls. I have faith that the Empress works for what she believes to be in the best interest of our people, even if I may not be able from my vantage point to see this. That being said, we must put a 'certain' amount of faith in the hands of our intelligence specialists... that they too are working for the good of the Empire.

We've held the Tal Shiar preeminent before... and that was a mistake.

Whenever there's only 'one' way of doing things, 'one' service, we risk the possibility of blatant power plays over-shadowing the otherwise diligent and patriotic work of the service whole. Allowing a one agency system to fall into the hands of the misguided is, in effect, more dangerous than any inter-agency 'turf wars'. I come from a long line of civil servants from a variety of levels fellow Senators, and I am asking for your trust when I tell you the best solution is to have multiple agencies, with clearly defined missions and responsibilities. My plan offers this... there is no reason to fight over turf you legally can not win, ergo why would the Tal Shiar, the RNI, and this proposed agency waste resources bickering if their missions provide for little if any overlap in jurisdiction?"

"Quite simply: there are situations in which the lines of jurisdiction are not as clear cut as one would like," tr'Khnialmnae spoke. "Granted, under this proposed situation there would be less bickering between agencies, one must clearly define everything where the Tal Shiar are involved, or they will take every advantage they can squeeze out of things." He never had a liking for that organization, especially since it had attempted to have his daughter killed for claiming something rightfully hers in the first place.

"However, I second this proposal: the Declared need security and information, both from within her borders and without. Agencies that can concentrate on fewer specific goals have higher chances of a more productive mission outcome than a single agency having to look at everything."

He paused, and it looked as though he was going to sit. "However, I must make one thing clear. Any attempt to place a senator within two positions of power and responsibility - the aforementioned suggestion that a Senator also speak for the Tal Shial - is, in my humble opinion, downright insane, not to mention completly irresponsible. We have all seen what happens when too much power and authority is placed with one person. The Tal Shiar, the Galae, they are not responsible for the governing of the Declared. That is the sole perview of the Praetor, Empress, and Senate. Their leaders are taught to do the jobs their positions require of them, and as such their advice and input is highly valued. No offence is meant to the Admiral, her job is to fight our wars and defend the Declared, and well she performs this duty. Likewise the Tal Shiar in their time and duties. No seat, only advice." With that said, he resumed his seat.

What an odd sense of reclamation. Yet, this would be most opportune, thought the Proconsul. tr'Khnialmnae was and has not been the most well-liked or respected Senator in Rihan history. The fact that the Senator was in support of Omar's agenda - albeit unknowningly - would serve them both in the long-term. Omar would have to 'run into' tr'Khnialmnae at some point outside the Senate chambers. An offer of support here, a favor there.

They could both profit from this new venture. Though, it would not do to have a Senator control the Senate with the vast knowledge that would be available to him or her at the touch of a fingertip.

"Do you both fear the Tal Shi'ar so much that you wish to put even more reigns in on them?" Tal Khev asked in an amused tone with an arched eyebrow and a quirked smile. "That is precisely the reason why I would like to see the Tal Shi'ar under the Senate's control." he said, almost in a friendly voice. "My dear Senators, with one of us at the head of the Tal Shi'ar, we not only would have the information at our fingertips, but we would have their loyalty to the Senate, the Empress and the Praetor. With that kind of backing, who would stand against us as a whole?" he said.

"Or rather who would stand against this Senator, as a whole." Rital countered. "Your moves are indeed worthy of what this Senate has become, but my colleague is falling behind the times, it is not what we 'should' be.

We must not confuse a Senator in control for the Senate 'entire' to be in control. One individual with too much power is one individual with too much power, regardless of whom lip service loyalty is paid to, or his position in the Empire. I can not... 'will' not in good conscience support such a measure, Senator. I am sorry, but there will be 'no' new job for you, today." At least not if he could help it.

Tal Khev seethed under the implied insult, but otherwise remained quiet and impassive as the Senate continued the debate. He knew when he was beat and sat down while the others argued the point further.

"I can't find where you would interpret fear of the Tal Shiar, Senator Khev, or the RNI or Galae for that matter, in my statements," Aehkhifv retorted.

"If the system worked the way it should they are ALREADY under our control.

Besides which, anyone standing against the Praetor and Empress is already wrong. We shouldn't need the backing of the Tal Shiar simply to impose the will of the law. As to information, as stated before I would not be opposed to an advisory position, much like Admiral Donatra of the Galae. The information would already be present, and not skewed by a senator with his or her own aims and visions of what is the correct path we should tread."

"We appreciate the sentiment," Kaidalin told Aehkifv with a wry smile, "But if both We and the Praetor were always in the right, We would not need a Senate. Sometimes, as the humans say, a little revolution can be a good thing. No...the problem is not that the Tal Shi'ar, if an organization composed of that many sentients can come to agreement at all," she added, "Might as a general matter disagree with the policies established by the government. The problem is that the Tal Shi'ar does so in secret, and that tempts them into being disloyal. Disagreement is welcome. A lack of loyalty and mnhei'sahe...that cannot and will not be tolerated. "

Valdran took to his feet again, folding his arms across his chest, fingers tapping against his arm as he thought out his words. "We are talking about placing the Tal Shiar in a monopolist position. Such a proposition is untenable. As has been well stated and bears repeating, we could trade one rule for another - a form of rule that would not permit advice, would not allow such debates as we are now enjoined in. It is foolhardy to give over so much power to one group, nay one individual. We should look at our intelligence agencies as we would any other business conglomerate. Keep their objectives separate, foster the competition that will drive them to excell and appoint an oversight committee to monitor their reports and return to the Senate with the findings."

Kaidalin leaned forward on the throne slightly, and put forward another idea. "We are in agreement...in essence, with Senator Valdran and those of you who have spoken against giving any one senator both a seat and the reigns of an intelligence agency. We can also see the wisdom behind the seperation of agencies. As for an oversight committee we would like to hear debate on this possibility: we could create a third agency, na Terrh Saeihr

- the Night Stars. The function of this agency would be a little more than oversight and simply reading reports - it would something akin to a constant internal investigation for both the Tal Shi'ar and the RNI. To ensure loyalty to the government, Terrh Saeihr would be composed of a family member of each senator currently holding a seat in Senate and two more appointees - one from the Throne and the other from the Praetor. Each senator could handpick any member of their family after taking office. This way every watcher is being watched." she smiled, "And we can finally shed some light into the shadowy darkness of this area. Suggestions and concerns, Senators?"

OCC: Slight backpost to before Party

"Clearing House"

Cmdr. Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister
JAG

Counselor Elessidil's Office
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Her steps were a little less confident as of late as she entered the counselor's office. Steeling her gaze upon his lowered head, she smiled as she recognized the focus to duty. It was an all too familiar look, one that she had mastered.

"Counselor? I'm here for my appointment." Faylin stood, arms at her side, with an expression that just reeked of someone that needed to unload on an unsuspecting person. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one looked at the situation, Brian was the scapegoat.

"Ensign, hi, come in," Brian replied, standing up from his chair and coming around his desk with hand extended.

She gently shook his hand before sitting. "Ensign Faylin McAlister.

I'm positive you have my file, and have read on my recent visits with Lieutenant Terrik?"

"I have," Elessidil answered as he walked to the replicator.

"Anything to drink, Ensign?"

"Just....no, thank you." Faylin let a sigh escape her, signaling that this was difficult.

Retrieving his seltzer, Brian joined Faylin, taking a chair opposite her in the cluster of seats where he met with his patients. He resumed their previous conversation. "Yes, Counselor Terrik has filled me in on some of the details."

"Good. Look, let's cut to the chase. I'm not here to talk about my daughter. How are you at offering advice concerning relationships?"

The counselor raised an eyebrow. "I suppose it depends on the relationship," he answered. "But bear in mind I'm a counselor, not a matchmaker," he said, curious to learn more about her. Her posture and tone suggested there were other things she'd rather be doing, and those were usually the most interesting people to work with.

Her lip curled upwards into a sly grin. "I'm not looking for a matchmaker counselor. Generally speaking, I have no problem attracting men. I'm wondering when pursuing someone becomes detrimental."

"It's you who's doing the pursuing, I take it? Who's the pursuee?"

"Yes, I'm the one pursuing. A man from my past on board. He's in the Intelligence department, and I prefer to keep his identity to myself considering his position. We've....shared a lot of intimate information with each other. The relationship, well, it was electric in not so many words. He has told me that he has some feelings for me, and I for him. Yet, twice I have tried and nothing. Zip. Nada.

It's as if, somewhere along three years, he's become frozen. Am I crazy to keep trying to win his affection?"

"I don't know. I think that would depend on exactly why you're trying to win his affection and how it will affect you if he remains aloof."

"I see." Faylin stood, walking up and down the length of his office, her hands expressive as she spoke. "Honestly, it would bother me considerably if he remained aloof, just due to the fact that I believe he's being stubborn as hell. I've always had a need for attachment with men. That in itself is unnerving to me."

"Need for relationships of any kind with other people isn't necessarily a bad thing in and of itself, Ensign. It becomes an issue when it completely takes over and you lose all control and sense of self."

"Commander, I am an overly confident, aggressive, take charge type of woman.

Ask anyone that knows me. However, I can never just be content with myself." Her head tilted to her left ever so slightly, the brown coloring of her eyes bored into his with her next statement. "It's as if I'm scared to be alone."

"Okay, sounds to me like you know yourself pretty well, then. *Are* you scared to be alone?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

Faylin steeled her gaze against his in a challenging manner. "Yes."

"And now you are alone," Elessidil continued in summary.

"Lately, I've alienated almost everyone except for the man I mentioned above....he, in turn alienates me. It's a catch 22. I don't want to appear desperate. I'm not that type."

"Then be true to yourself; don't be desperate. You're reasonably self-assured, intelligent, successful; doesn't sound like there's any reason to be 'that type' to me."

"You forgot to mention that I'm attractive, but I'll let that slide."

Faylin offered a slight grin, then pursed her lips for a moment in thought, taking in his comment. "In your opinion, do you think it's wise to cut ties with him.....and just start over? Is it the healthiest option?" She sat after she posed the question, crossing her legs and biting her bottom lip as she waited for a response.

"It sounds like maybe he has," Brian noted in an empathetic tone, "so why shouldn't you? Think of it another way, pursuing something that's already gone is the very definition of an exercise in futility.

Maybe your energies would be better spent elsewhere?"

"Possibly. Right now, I just feel so tempted to be stubborn.

Although, I am aware it's not the best option." Faylin shook her head, glancing down at the floor then up to meet his gaze yet again.

"Well then it seems the real issue here is whether you can maintain control and act out of reason rather than giving in to a sheer emotional response, and that takes us back to your original question of when pursuing someone becomes detrimental. In my estimation, the choice you make will determine that. You can be the desperate type you say you aren't and invest your energy in what by all indications is a lost cause, or you can follow what you yourself have indicated is the better option. It's really entirely up to you."

"My control over my emotions, Counselor, has wained since the death of my daughter."

"I thought you weren't here to talk about your daughter," Brian said, understanding that despite Faylin's reticence, the topic was not immaterial.

"I'm not. I'm just stating fact." Faylin stated stoicly.

"You're dealing with a huge loss, Ensign. There's no way that can't have an affect on you emotionally."

"I know that. I know every step in the grieving process that I have gone through and that I will go through. It's old hat. I know I came to you, but is there anything else you would like to know about me....while I'm here? Honestly, I can't stand counselors."

A wan smile formed on Brian's lips. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not alone in that regard. Okay, you're well versed in psychological theory and you know yourself better than anyone. So why

*did* you come to see me? It wasn't for my benefit; if there's something more I needed to know about you I could have looked it up in your files or simply have called you in for an assessment myself. And don't tell me it was just to ask for relationship advice; neither of us is so naive as to think that's the sum total of what's on your mind," the Betazoid casually noted. "I suspect it's because despite your dislike for counselors, you're looking for help with much more than your relationship."

"Yeah....well. I lost myself Counselor. I've lost practically everything." A hint of anger toned in her voice. "And, I'm sure....you're going to sit there and analyze why I feel like I've lost everything. It's a cold, hard fact Commander. I've lost my daughter, my relationship with Steven, my relationship with Saul......everything that was important to me is gone. Vanished. I have no family left, they've all been murdered before me." Her posture stiffened. "So, how do I handle that without loosing my marbles?" It was a good show, yet there was a part of her that inwardly laughed at her dramatics.

"Well first, I'll make you a deal, Ensign. You you don't make assumptions about what I am or am not going to do and I won't make any assumptions about your state of mind, okay?" he said, trying to be clear yet gentle.

"That's fine." McAlister stated simply as her eyes shifted to the floor.

"Yes, you have lost a lot that's very clear. I'm really, really sorry about that and believe it or not I wish I could just give you a few lines of wisdom and undo all the pain and anxiety and whatever else you're going through, but I can't. But I promise you Faylin that if you're willing to work on building up some trust between us and to do the hard work that this is going to require, I will help you in any way I can for however long it takes. Can we start with that?"

"Okay." She paused. "What comes first then counselor?"

The first step had already been taken, Elessidil thought, glad that it seemed Faylin would give this a serious go. "You said you've lost everything that was important to you; I don't disagree, except that you left out one very important thing: you. I know it sounds trite, Ensign, but it's true. And I think on some level you understand that or else there'd be no point in even trying to work through everything.

So I just want to remind you that however you may feel right now, you're not weak, you're not hopeless, and you're not crazy. So that's where we start; we start with you and then build from there. And I think we should start with the present before looking at the past or the future."

He paused for a second to allow her to catch a sort of mental breath.

"Tell me what's swirling through your head right now. You don't have to be eloquent, you don't have to worry about whether it makes sense or not to me or to you; just talk."

"Before I do, I need to know that you are aware of Starfleet Regulation 18436-24 which states the parameters of Doctor-Patient confidentiality."

"Of course," Brian verified. "It applies to counseling as well."

She nodded and sighed. "I'm not who everyone thinks I am Counsellor.

I've done things....that no one knows about. Well, certain people know about and they are not good. I've distanced myself from these people and they are threatening to kill me." Her eyes grew focused, with a scary sort of tint to them. "And, they will do it."

Elessidil regarded her carefully. "This isn't insignificant, Ensign.

How long have you been in this situation?"

"I've been in the organization for a very long time. Until recently.

I have evidence that will bring them down, permanently. However, if I bring this evidence to light, it will be my life in exchange.

So.....I have an idea that I need to run by you......................."

"The Galaxy's Goodies"

Lt. 8-ball Hunter
Lt. JG Faylin McAlister

Location: Ten Forward

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8-ball sipped her drink, scanned the room carefully, and then nodded twice.

"There," she said, pointing to the dark haired lieutenant standing in the corner with some friends. "That one. Definitely the hottest in the room.

Also, I haven't sleep with him yet." She frowned. "I wonder why."

Saying nothing, McAlister glanced over quickly, then turned back to 8.

Holding her hand up somehwhat, she made a 'tiny' gesture with her hand. "That's why."

8-ball glanced at the guy again. Even from over here, she could see the shape of his arms. "Too bad," she said. "Guy with arms like that. Tragedy."

~Course,~ she thought, ~bigger doesn't always mean better. But there had to be something to be work with.~

"Okay, who exactly have you done on board 8?" Fay took a sip of her drink.

"You want me to list them all? That could take sometime. The most recent guy I slept with was Lieutenant Marx from Engineering. Big guy, bald, speaks in deep, gravelly, wishes-he-was-Victor-Krieghoff tones. Ever slept with him?"

"Nope, I haven't. How was he?"

8-ball winced. "Trust me. Not worth it. I haven't taken to timing my men's.

. .performances. . .yet, but he may have taken the cake for shortest fucking thrill of my life. Or un-thrill. I'm thinking twenty-five seconds, tops. It was disappointing in the truest sense of the word."

"Oh, god...are you serious?" She snickered a bit. "Ummmm, what about Bental?"

8-ball's eyebrow went up before she could stop it. Saul was. . .different than some of the other guys she hung around. He was actually her friend, for starters, where most guys were just playmates but. . .there had always been that line there, that flirty, what-if-we-did line. 8-ball couldn't help but admit to herself that she held some definite interest in crossing. She knew, too well, that he was at least a little interested himself, since she had accidentally pulled the thought from his mind once. That had been weird. So these were all good reasons, except. . .

"No," 8-ball said. "We never got around to it before he and Nara hooked up, and Nara's sort of a friend so. . ." 8-ball frowned. "Have you?"

A sly grin crossed her mouth. "No comment."

"Oh, no no no. You can't leave me hanging like that. Tell me if you have or haven't, with juicy details if you have, and I'll tell you about my experiences banging a Klingon commander."

This wasn't a light offer for 8-ball, as she sort of missed Kol before he got his damned Klingonself killed, but curiosity always got the better of her. Whole anti-Vulcan thing.

She grinned, shaking her head from left to right. "Ohhhkay. Well. It was a while ago." McAlister giggled. "He's...He has this 'thing'

that he does with his tongue... Oh, and that man has passion. He could set my panties on fire with just a look. When I wear any that is." She thought about it, then blushed looking back at her companion. Nodding her head, all she could say was. "Damn..." Faylin paused. "Have you ever seen a finer butt on a guy? Seriously 8....It takes everything I have not to squeeze the Charmin when ever I see him walking away."

8-ball snorted and had to put her drink down. "He does have a pretty cute ass, I'll admit," she said. "All right, gimme someone else."

"Rex."

8-ball let a slow smile drift across her face. "Yeeees," she said. "And THAT one does the tongue-thing, for me, at any rate, that's just. . .mmmm. I guess it helps to have, like, 5000 previous sexual lives."

A dreamy look lit across her face. "Your telling me. I had the extreme pleasure just the other night after the holodeck party.

There's something to be said for that much experience. I don't know if it was the alcohol or him...but I've never had a room spin that fast before." Fay paused. "The Ambassador.....That boy is smoother than silk....and his sheets.....there's something to be said about Romulan silk. I like them alot when I wasn't slipping all over the place. I needed tape on my ass to stay still."

"Silk is nice, but I'm not so into Romulans anymore. Had a thing going with Omar's flunkie once, but that. . .didn't work out. Bastard. Ahem.

So no. No ambassador."

8-ball flagged someone to refill her drink and tried to think of someone to ask Fay about. "Let's see, who was a good one. . .oh, did you ever hook up with Baile? Baile was veeeeeeeery fun. Surprising, even, considering the lack of humor, or, you know, personality."

"Baile? Hell no! That dude scares the shit outta me. I'd be worried that his hair would attack me before he did." Faylin stated with an arched eyebrow.

"Ummmm....okay....Jonas." Another slight grin crossed her features.

Her left hand rested below the table, not speaking of her recent developments with the Marine.

"Yeees, I have had some fun with Jonas," 8-ball said dryly. "It was. .

.good. Very good, even. But there was some awkwardness later, you know, emotional aftermath stuff. I don't know. Plus, a bunch of holographic characters tried to kill us, and that could do some damage to a relationship. You understand."

She slowly raised her hand from underneath the table, waving it in front of 8. "Be careful, you are talking about my fiance'."

"Oh, not seriously." 8-ball stared. "Seriously? SERIOUSLY?" 8-ball was stuck between open-mouthed gaping and full-on laughter. She ended up grinning with super-sized eyes. "How the hell did THAT happen?"

"Oh...pffttt....long story 8. Things just happened. I can't really explain it. So, it appears I am off the market...." McAlister sighed contentedly. Leaning forward, she grinned. "So, hands off my man 8 ball...." Chuckling softly, she took a drink.

"You know, extracting details from you is like getting a Klingon to do a little romantic lute-playing." 8-ball finished her drink and rolled her eyes. "Anyway, my hands are nowhere near your man, trust me. He's all yours.

But does that mean you're actually doing the whole 'settling down' bit, cause let me tell you, Fay, you don't seem the type."

She looked at 8 seriously for a moment. "It's something I've wanted for a long time, just have never had the chance to explore it. I was always exploring other things....so to speak. I don't know...part of me will miss being so, 'free'."

"Well, free has its advantages," 8-ball admitted. "But there's something to be said about being, I don't know, restricted to. Just for once, it'd be nice to have a steady boyfriend around Valentine's Day. I don't think THAT's ever happened."

"Anyway, engaged could be cool. . .as long as you don't turn into one of those scary, annoying, humorless engaged women, who do nothing but try to get other people married and talk about, I don't know, curtains and things."

8-ball looked Faylin directly in the eye. "You change into one of those scary people, and I'm going to have to break up the engagement for your own good."

"Oh fuck you!" She stated with a giggle. "That'll never, ever happen. There are things in this universe that a person must accept.

One, you will always be 8-ball.....female extraordinaire. Two, I will always be Faylin McAlister.....wanna be 8-ball. Just because I'm engaged, doesn't mean I can't look. What's that phrase taken women use? "I can look at the menu, as long as I eat at home."

Besides...you yourself said Jonas was good. He's just my good now."

8-ball grinned. "Fair enough," she said.

Her face grew serious for a moment. "8, I need to ask you a favor."

~Uh-oh~ "Yeah, okay," 8-ball said. "You can ask." She wasn't about to say 'Sure, I'll do anything.' That was just asking for trouble, even for a friend.

"I.........I'll be going some where soon for an undetermined amount of time. Look after him for me.....he'll need someone to talk to." She stated quietly.

8-ball frowned. "What, I don't get more specifics than that? I mean, I know you're not big with the details or anything, but. . .you're gonna take off?

And you want ME to comfort your fiance'? What the hell am I supposed to say? Sorry, Stevie, she's just gone on an indefinite shopping spree? But, you know, don't feel bad or nothing, because she really, really likes you."

8-ball pushed her drink away from her and looked at Faylin carefully.

"What's this about, Fay?"

"8, I can't go into details. Just....be there for him...okay?" Fay grew distant.

8-ball let out a frustrated breath and leaned back in her chair, irritated.

"Fine," she said, "but don't expect that to mean anything. You should know as well as I do that Jonas ain't the type to take his women lightly."

She played with her glass for a second, thought about trying to lighten the mood, and decided to hell with it; that wasn't always her job. "Look,"

8-ball said, standing up. "I've gotta get going. If you, you know, disappear in the middle of the night, try to not to get blown up or vaporized or anything."

Faylin smiled knowingly. "Thanks 8. I owe you one."

8-ball smirked, "You bet." She stood, deciding that if Faylin did get vaporized, she didn't want to end on bad terms, even if she was irritated with this whole 'i'm a mysterious woman' bit. As 8-ball walked out of the room, she threw over her shoulder, "Just get back soon, cause you know how well I 'look after' a pretty boy."

"Yeah.....don't I know it." Faylin smiled softly.

"The not so English patient pt1"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - CMO - USS-Galaxy
First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - Furies CO - USS-Galaxy
Dr Ethan Westlake, Medical - USS-Galaxy (npc written by Jonas)

Sickbay

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

~ Then - During the liberation of ch'Rihan ~

"Incoming!" someone yelled out over the din of the yelling and screaming in sickbay, ever since the red alert sirens had gone off the stream of casualties into sickbay had seemed never ending. The floor and even parts of the walls were coated liberally in blood and other secretions from the many humanoid species aboard, a veritable multi coloured spray of blood and other vital internal fluids that would take weeks to clean up properly. The moans and cries of the wounded and the dying were a mournful lament that always seemed to merge into a similar sound. No matter how many times you heard it that sound was always the thing you remembered the most, as it always seemed to be there, a medly of voices and languages that said nothing specific yet managed to convey the sorrow of the moment to anyone who paid it any attention.

Looking around at the cry Kimberly stepped back from the young Vulcan she had failed to save and without thinking wiped the back of her hand across her forehead to stop the sweat from getting into her eyes, ending up only leaving a green smear across her forehead.

Seeing another figure beaming into the ward she looked to an orderly and indicated the Vulcan Lieutenant, "Take him to the morgue, now!" she snapped as she stripped off the dirty gloves and replaced them, irritated that she had failed to save him and even more irritated by the fact that the battle seemed long over, yet here they were still clearing up the inevitable casualties and injuries. A task that would likely last well into the night and coming day before the stream of wounded slowed.

Stepping over to the body on the floor she rolled the figure over and saw the familiar face of the Furies commander on the floor, his torso blackened by the impact of some energy weapon or other. Scanning him quickly she raised her voice, "Code Red. I need some help here!" she called out as she sliced open part of his tunic to get a better look at the damage. Waving the nearby orderlies closer she helped manhandle him onto a biobed, ironically the very one the now deceased Vulcan had just vacated. Resetting the bed for a Terran she began cutting away his uniform, "I need to know what weapon type did this!" she hollared to the science tech who was in sickbay to help provide just this sort of information, "cross match him now, get a full unit of Hemolog into him," checking his airway visually and with a snap of her tricorder she made sure that it wasn't compromised in any way, satified that he was actually breathing (for the moment) she looked up at the bed readouts and frowned at what she saw, "Lieutenant, can you hear me!" she called, out loudly, not exactly expecting an answer but trying anyway she looked to Arrietty, her nurse.

"Get me fifteen cc's of Kelotane and a surgical tray now,"

Kimberly made a mental note to remind him later that had he been wearing his body armor he would have likely received only minor injuries, instead of the massive trauma she saw before her. That plus what was going to be a long recuperation would undoubtedly cheer him up no end. Quickly running a scan of his entire body she ascertained as best she could his injuries, ~ Thorax took the hit, ~ she realized, ~ deep muscle and tissue trauma, if it hadn't hit his breastbone he'd be dead! ~ she realized, ~ Heart and lungs compromised! Damn! ~

"Triox, Twenty cc's, and get a airway tube in him now," she ordered as the surgical cart was wheeled up, ~ I am not loosing another today! ~ she decided, hoping she could stick to that decision. Working as swiftly as she could she quickly cleared away his uniform to reveal the mass of charred and damaged flesh and bone that used to be his sternum.

"Get me a full spinal scan, and run a neurological workup, make sure this damn weapon hasn't damaged his neural pathways," switching instruments she ran a scanner over his thorax and hit a bed control, "holo display on," she ordered, watching as a holographic representation of Baile appeared above the bed, "scan and enlarge damaged area of torso," she ordered the computer. Rotating the image she quickly stripped away several layers of skin to reveal the damage beneath, opeing her mouth to give more orders she paused as a different alarm sounded. Cursing loudly she reached for a nearby crash cart, "Code blue!" she announced as his pulse suddenly flat lined, "he's crashed!"

Opening the crash kit she worked swiftly, passing several devices to Arrietty and letting her place them as she ran another scan of the Lieutenant, "Inaprovaline, 10cc's,"

holding out her hand she felt the hypo as it was placed in her hand. Checking the drug and dosage were correct she administered the drug to his carotid artery. Checking the defibrillation pads were attached and registering on the control panel of the bed she rechecked Bailes readings. "Clear!" she ordered after she was satisfied with the results.

Checking everyone nearby was away from Baile she triggered the electrical pulse, letting the charge surge through him she watched him spasm on the bed briefly before settling back down.

"No pulse." Arrietty reported.

Double checking she upped the joules to three hundred and ordered "Clear" again. Again checking she triggered the devices, all the while praying that this was going to work.

Letting the brief spasm die down she checked the beds readouts and was about to set a third charge up when the monitors spiked, one pulse, then another. Slowly increasing she watched as they beat somewhat erratically for a moment.

"Hydran energy disruptor Ma'am," came a voice from behind.

Not even turning Kimberly continued to work as she replied, "Anything special or is it like the rest?"

"Looks to be just like the rest Ma'am," the Science Tech reported.

Nodding her thanks, even though the Ensign couldn't see her she started working on repairing the worst of the damaged flesh on Bailes chest, "Metrazine, IV," she ordered, looking up at Arrietty, "and get a neural and cardiac monitor set up for him, plus prep a biosynthetic heart in case we need one.

We shouldn't but prep one anyway just in case. Then get a clone graft ready, I'll need a twenty percent tissue culture ready in a few hours, plus some muscular tissue patches as well. Have the lab start cooking up a batch now."

"Yes Doctor. Anything else?"

"Not yet, but hurry back."

"The not so English patient pt2"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - CMO - USS-Galaxy
First Lieutenant Jebidiah Baile - Furies CO - USS-Galaxy
Dr Ethan Westlake, Medical - USS-Galaxy (npc written by Jonas)

~ Later - Sickbay ~

Some time later, after a marathon session of tissue grafts, patches and regeneration, plus an assortment of neural repairs also caused by the disruptor blast Kimberly sat on a stool in the surgical bay and slowly stripped off the surgical reds and let them drop to the floor. Not caring that this was just the sort of behavior she normally chewed junior medics off for she sat back against the wall and sighed. The sterile antiseptic smell that had been long associated with hospitals had long ago become just one of those things you ignored, but today that smell was masked by the odor of charred flesh, burnt bones and blood of all types. In here, a room that had seen near constant use since that start of the battle, the smell was quite disgusting she realized.

"Lieutenant," she informed the unconscious marine of the table before her, "I hope you appreciate the need for body armor now," she said wearily. Looking up as the door opened she smiled at Arrietty as she walked back in with a team of orderlies, "Post Op for this one," she ordered, "Constant Obs for forty eight hours, then every fifteen minutes for the next twenty four, we'll take it from there." Watching as the orderlies skillfully transferred Baile to an antigrav stretcher they then pushed him out to post op.

~ One more saved, one more to live another day. ~ standing up she followed the stretcher to post op...

The darkness under Ethan's eyes spoke volumes. While the war was over on the planet the doctors and nurses of Starfleet continued their war against the Reaper. He wanted a shower and some food. The word sleep didn't even enter his mind. It was as if he had forgotten what it was. In his hand he held the thing that had kept him up the last few days.

He smiled reassuringly to the few nurses that monitored the patients for now. Hell. Ethan wished they had saved more than they had. But then again - what doctor didn't? "Hey Doc." he nodded to Burton and held up the padd. "I got the results of all the tests you wanted done. Can we talk? In private?"

"Sure," she agreed, sounding a little tired. A marathon session in surgery would do that she realized. Nodding to a side bay she knew to be unoccupied she stepped in a continued to peel off the red surgical trousers. Hunting around the room for a clean set of greens she looked at Ethan as he followed her in, "Good new or bad?" she asked, indicating a chair.

The chair looked so inviting he couldn't resist it. The nearly sixty years old veteran doctor sat down with the grace of a bulldozer. "I don't know where to start." he looked at the pad trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't think there's a single form of endurance enhancing gene-therapy known to mankind that this man hasn't been subjected to." he didn't sound too happy about that fact. Almost contemptuous. Ethan didn't understand how someone that had sworn the oath could approve of something like that.

Blinking as she stood up straight and unwrapped the pack of greens she frowned as she slowly got dressed, "Run that by me again?" she asked, speaking almost as slowly as she was moving, "and with a few more specifics if you please? What sort of gene-therapy?" Sounding confused she ran through his records and recent scans in her mind, trying to recall details.

"Well." he began, once more looking at the results. "I've met this patient before, just before the Dithparu incident.

Someone or something had replaced his eyes." Westlake shook his head. "No, it's never been identified. I filed it in the proper channels but my guess is his former employer has buried it somehow." Special Ops had never been very willing to give up any of its secrets.

Sighing at the ever present security clearance that plagued her constantly where ever she went. There was always someone who had a rating higher that her clearance, "How the gos-se do they expect us to do our jobs with only half the information we need available," she bitched softly.

"I've seen this done to soldiers before, but not at this level. It's crudely done, like trying to file a nail with a sledgehammer."He stifled a yawn, but allowed himself to roll his neck until it popped with a loud crack. "Look." he showed the pad to Burton.

Struggling to get her head through the opening in the greens she pulled it down with an audible ripping sound. Sighing again she accepted the PADD as she slid her feet into the slippers. Activating the device she scanned the contents, "I came aboard just after the Dithparu," she noted absently, "what prompted the visit then?" she enquired as she read.

Struggling to get her head through the opening in the greens she pulled it down with an audible ripping sound. Sighing again she accepted the PADD as she slid her feet into the slippers. Activating the device she scanned the contents, "I came aboard just after the Dithparu," she noted absently, "what prompted the visit then?" she enquired as she read.

He pinched the bridge of his nose an stiffled another yawn.

"If I remember correctly I think he was helping another marine that needed medical attention. I noticed his eyes and wanted to check them. I gave him a injection of antibiotics which seemed to trigger a painful reaction."

"I recall note about that somewhere on his file," ~ What I can read of it! ~ she griped again to herself, "but there wasn't a great deal there," thinking for a moment she called up his recent physical and scans, "Is there anything else?"

she asked, rechecking his current information. Looking at the cellular scans she frowned and wondered why the lab hadn't flagged this earlier.

Apparently Burton had caught the same thing he had. "I honestly don't know, doctor. The cells in his body are..

off. I can't explain it. Whatever it is it's not Federation in origin."

"Agreed, we sould run a comparison between what we have here and any other species genetic modification procedures, most have their own way of doing things, distinctive RNA transfer procedures, we might learn something if we can pin down the 'Who' and the 'how'," she suggested.

He nodded and rubbed his eyes. "I've ran a few tests and they all came up negative. I'll try some of the more farfetched ones this time. Who knows what we might find?"

"If all else fails, send a memo with the notes on it to Memory Alpha, they may have better luck. Though the search will take time." Kimberly suggested.

"Just one more thing." he said, sounding more serious this time. "We have to find out if the Lieutenant is at home. I have a feeling his body, the way it's regenerating, can go on forever in its current state." he let the words sink in.

The Lieutenant could be braindead but the body would heal and be as strong as it ever had been. "With your permission I'd like Commander Dallas to take a look at it. I think her.. abilities can be useful here."

"Agreed," she replied readily, "If she is willing to help then great, we should know before a decision is made whether to keep him here or send him to a long term medical facility." Standing Kimberly held the PADD out, "for now, I'll leave his long term care in your hands, keep me posted though."

Ethan nodded and stood up. "Will do, Doc." Unless Commander Dallas found some sort of light in the house it was definately long term medical care for the lieutenant. The man was a vegetable if Ethan had ever seen one.

"Confession is Good for the Soul"

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. JG Faylin McAlister, JAG

****

Location: Captain's Ready Room

The woman sighed, steeling herself against the onslaught of questions she knew would come. One attempt on her life was one enough - especially due to the fact that the attempt took place so soon after she verbally resigned from the Inner Sanctum. The padd and chips in her quaking hand, she pressed the chime to the ready room.

Daren set the padd in his hand down and minimized the report on his LCARS. There were no scheduled meetings, which meant that this was something out of the blue, like a team of armored Marines sent by Livia Proctor to arrest him on another trumped-up charge like not sending any subversive messages in his reports, or failing to properly plot against her in his spare time. He had better things to do than either of those of course, but the thought that Livia was convinced that he was, in fact, doing them and kept frustrating herself trying to catch him at it was a secret - and admittedly guilty - pleasure. "Come in."

"Sir, I'm Junior Lt. Faylin McAlister. And, I come seeking your protection." McAlister's tone shook somewhat as she stood with her hands down at her side. He's features yelled experience, but Faylin prayed that they also spoke kindness.

"Protection?" This was, at least, different. "Protection from who - or what?"

"I belong, er, belonged to an underground society of assassins. I have been a part of this agency for several years and have recently resigned.

In exchange for my testimony to Starfleet, I would like to be granted protection and immunity from my crimes." Faylin swallowed the bile that was rising up in her throat.

Daren stared at her. Secret society of assassins. One of his officers a member. Protection for testimony. Docked at Livia Proctor's starbase.

Was that sword he'd gotten from a Nova Roman officer years ago as an Ensign still sharp? He wasn't certain that he wanted to fall on a dull sword.

"This padd and chips contains the names and details of my crimes as well as the people involved with this agency. Please sir, I want out of this group. They have already made an attempt at my life on the Starbase.

And they will not rest until I am dead."

"Ah." Daren continued to look at her and wonder if this was a new attempt to destroy his career from Livia, or just life on the Galaxy.

Did it matter? Would it change anything either way? "I think I need some coffee, Lieutenant," he sighed. "Would you like some?"

"No thank you." Her tone suddenly became firm.

"Now," he continued, after returning from the replicator and activating a privacy screen. "Let's try this again, Lieutenant. Slowly this time.

This group of... assassins. Who are they? One of the Section 31 elements that managed to avoid being eliminated with the rest of that group?"

"Yes, They call themselves the "Inner Sanctum" and are a part of Section

31 gone amok. Due to my involvement with this group, I am well versed in who specifically controls what in relation to activities that the group calls upon themselves to involve themselves in. As an example, you are familiar with Ambassador T'Mon's assassination two years ago?"

Yes." Daren hoped the taste in his mouth was from the bad replicator coffee. He'd prayed that the last of those murderous traitors were gone after the battles in Earth System last year.

Faylin nodded her head. "That was one of my assignments. He was well known for his controversial views on certain topics that did not meet this groups view points on what was best for StarFleet. Things settled down rather quickly after his demise." Her posture was rigid as her eyes grew shifty. Faylin wondered why she was nervous around him. Was it due to the fact that she was confessing her crimes? Or merely because he was a superior officer. Inwardly, she snorted. It could not be the later... her smugness shone through on her facial features.

No, not the coffee, mores' the pity. "Lieutenant, you are, I hope, aware that confessed assassins and murderers are generally not the sort of people that Starfleet... bargains... with."

"I understand Sir. However, I am willing to cooperate in exchange for immunity from my crimes past and present." Faylin cleared her throat.

"If that is something you believe Head Quarters would be interested in.

If not... I can disappear rather easily off the radar if you catch my drift."

Daren's first thought was that the Lieutenant should disappear out the nearest airlock. His second involved phasering her where she stood. By the time he reached his ninth thought, she was at least still structurally intact when she left the room. He decided that was close enough for now. "You said something about information, Lieutenant?"

She handed him the padd and chips she brought with her. "Names, dates, and details on each of my assignments. As well as names of top brass and not so top brass involved in this group. However, I'm not aware of any new operatives that have been recruited. Well, there's one... but he's dead." A slight disturbing smile marked her lips.

"I don't suppose you were... considerate enough... to kill him on the Galaxy, were you, Lieutenant?" If she had, then he could just lock her up as a pretext and keep Livia out of this mess.

"No." She stated simply. "That...would complicate matters."

That could be good or bad. Livia might decide to personally supervise the hunt, which would distract her from what he was going to have to do.

Or she might decide it was one of his crew and make things worse. Either way.... "I'm not qualified to make this decision, Lieutenant - and frankly, given my opinions of Section 31, the people that belonged to it, and the things they did, I don't think that you want me to. What I will do, is pass this on to someone who can think about the topic with more clarity and let them decide."

"That's appropriate Captain. When you receive an answer, if you would be so kind as to let me know what is occurring, I would appreciate it greatly." Her face remained stoic as she spoke.

"I will. You are not relieved of duty, Lieutenant, but consider yourself confined to the ship until further notice to prevent any more incidents aboard the Starbase. Commander Corgan will be in touch with you regarding additional security arrangements within the hour.

"Good day Captain." Pivoting on her heel, she left the room.

Daren looked at the padd and data chips on his desk and sighed. This was going to be a long day. He finished his coffee in a long swallow, set the mug down, and went to work. =/\="Lt. Bental, to my ready room immediately."=/\=

"Retribution" Series

"A Cry for Salvation"

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister
1st Lt. Steven Jonas

Location: Faylin's Quarters

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

There were times, the woman wondered if indeed she had been given back her soul. For who in their right mind, would say yes to a marriage proposal, with full knowledge of the future. Faylin glanced at her reflection in the mirror with disgust. What she did was reprehensible, even for her. To play with someone's heart who had fully given himself completely over to her...just have have her.....do something so vile was not without understanding.

Fanning her long hair behind her, Faylin for the first time in her life, actually felt like the evil person she was trained to be. The battle continued within her. Good verses Evil....with at this moment in time, Evil prevailing. Faylin had taken so many lives over the years....including her parents. She felt the bile rise up in her throat.

The concoction was easy to make, she had done it many times before.

It's simple ingredients, when separate, were nothing. However, when put together, they were deadly. Single tears slowly streamed down her cheeks. What she was about to do to Steven, was worse than killing him out right. She was planning on putting a bullet voluntarily through his beating heart. Glancing down at her hand, she turned it upwards, opening it up finger by finger until the flesh of her palm was visible. In it, she imagined she held his soul, and closing her hand finger by finger slowly and painstakingly punctured the soft core of his true being, leaving him a shell of a man.

The action she was about to do ripped her soul to shreds. It wounded her, angered her, sickened her to the point of no return. To be without her husband, was to be without her life. Just to hold him once more, would make every thing else go away. His sleeping face suddenly shot into her mind, making her decision so much easier to make. Everything would be fine in a little while. Faylin gently shook her head back and forth. Soon, it would be fine. Her days as a pawn in the Inner Sanctum would be over. No more killing, no more jobs. The evidence rested in the padd and chips she had given to the Captain. It was enough to bring the Sanctum permanently down. Something that it would expect, had the society not had the pleasure of killing Faylin before she did the deed herself. No more overbearing law cases, no more chance for her dreams to be presented to her, then squashed by destiny laughing in her face.

She would see her daughter, apologize to her parents for killing them, and live in peace everlasting. Soon, oh so soon, the pain would be gone forever.

Gone....gone.

She felt remorse for what she was doing to her husband. He wouldn't understand that her true purpose in life was to serve the darkness of the Sanctum and not the light of Starfleet. Yes, she was ingrained within both forces, yet the pull to the other side was stronger than the need to be 'right'. The Sanctum had fed her, clothed her, and trained her. Starfleet had just been the vehicle to get her to where she needed to be for the Sanctum's benefit. What had turned her into wanting the light? Time did and Steven did. She realized the few days she had with him meant more to her than what IS could offer her ultimately. Love had indeed won her over. She had settled down in her own way. Yet, IS was a jealous lover and would never let her be free of it's grasp. This was the only way. The Fleet could not offer her the protection she needed. In a round about way, they refused, offering only a nice cell.

The delicate fingers quaked as the bluish liquid materialized in the small decanter. Just one little injection, and it would be finalized.

Her mouth slightly open, her breath raged as she glanced sideways and saw the plum mist enter the room. He knew her true intentions, and he was here for her final transport. Faylin ignored him as he hovered in the left corner, he would have her soon enough.

The handwritten note was simple.

Steven,

I love you, and I'm sorry.

Faylin

Looking over her surroundings, her reddened eyes stopped leaking tears of pain. A calming peace washed over her, the world around her slowed as she took her place on the bed. Everything was perfect. Her quarters were arranged, so when they found her, all would be in it's place. It was her final justice to the people she killed. They would get their final resting....secure in the fact that true Starfleet justice was not swift, but did indeed come in force.

Her hair curled in soft ringlets, makeup perfect, and white silk gown she intended on using for her wedding night now caressed her olive skin with a welcoming seductiveness. For they were married just this morning in a simple ceremony by the ship's chaplain....they would have spend their first night together as husband and wife tonight. It was not to be. She was the picture of an ultimate angel, and desired to be so when she met her daughter. She owed her that.

Injecting the bluish liquid into the container, Faylin slowly brought it to her neck........

Steven walked the halls, purposefully. He had a tray in his hands. The smells of the two meals resting upon it wafted through the hallway as he walked. He'd figured that since neither of them had eaten, that she might like something to eat. And he was going to surprise her.

He reached the door and it opened for him. Had they not been together, sharing their lives and this set of quarters, he would have had to press the chime and wait. As the door hissed open, he saw that she had done some cleaning while he had been at work. Everything was neat and tidy, with all the clutter packed away somewhere. Though not unusual for someone's home, in the month since they had gotten together, he had seldom seen Fay clean their quarters this much. "Fay,' he called out, unsure of her location.

Her eyebrows knitted slowly. Pressing the spray to her neck, the soft hiss of the injection gave her peace. There was nothing, short of a miracle that he or anyone else could do at this point. "In here."

Steven looked towards the bedroom, but the door was closed. Turning to the small table he set the tray down, the red rose quivering slightly on the edge of the tray before settling down. He checked that his uniform was neat, before reaching down to pick the tray up again. As his hand grasped the edge of the tray, his knuckles brushed her note, knocking it over.

Steven picked it up and read it. His hands began to shake, his mind went numb at just what the contents meant. Forgetting the tray in an instant, he ran to the bedroom door and opened it. He had not been expecting what he saw within.

Fay lay in the beautiful gown he had seen in her closet, the white one with the heart shaped hole at her chest, showing a little cleavage. Her hair was done up like he had not seen, and she looked beautiful lying on her bed. Then he saw the hypo against her neck. Running forward, his mind going crazy at what she was doing, he knocked the device away from her weakening grasp, letting it skid to the floor.

Her eyes started to glass over as she slowly blinked. Faylin's mind was just at the point of shutting down as she felt the hypo being yanked from her hand. A few tears started to stream, mostly out of anger at Steven for foiling her attempt.

Steven smiled weakly. "Why?" he said, as he brushed her forehead.

"Let me go Steven........." Faylin whispered with an weariness before she closed her eyes.

Feeling a cold chill behind him, he didn't need to turn to know who was there. "You can't have her. I won't let you."

Tapping his comm badge, "Medical Emergency. Two to beam directly to sickbay."

Death just stood there shaking his head, his anger at the loss of the prized soul he had been eagerly waiting for matched the contentment that he got from his favorite living being possibly surviving. Turning, he headed to sickbay, just in case his services were indeed required.

"I Have This Effect on People ..."

Daren M'Kantu
J. Andrus Suder

***

"Reporting as ordered, Captain," Andrus announced as soon as he entered the room.

He wasn't sure how he was going to play this, one false move was sure to get him ejected back into space. Especially if Saul had his way.

Daren looked at the Betazoid for several seconds, sorting his emotions out before speaking. "I'm told that you performed well during the Battle," he began quietly.

"Very few books were burned," Andy agreed.

"I was speaking about help you gave the children in the Second Battle of Romulus," Daren corrected, "but you already knew that. You weren't assigned to help with them, but the fact that you did is appreciated - especially considering the way you arranged your evacuation from Romulus during the First Battle."

Andy shrugged. They were children, what was he supposed to have done?

He wasn't a monster. "If you're trying to get more information out of me, Captain, I'd have to remind you of our deal."

If there was one thing Daren didn't need to be reminded of, their 'deal' was it. "If I'd determined that I wanted more information out of you," he replied tersely, "I would have gotten it. Since you are not - currently - in an interrogation chamber, that isn't what's going on."

Daren stopped for a moment, took a breath, and met Andrus' eyes again.

"I was trying to thank you for helping with the children," he finished in a more even voice.

Nothing like pissing off the boss first thing in the morning. "Oh. Well, you're welcome."

M'Kantu nodded, deciding that speaking less was more likely to allow him to avoid another comment like he'd just made than any other plan.

"How do you want to arrange this?" he continued calmly. "Handling your part of the bargain, I mean."

"I like the library," He said. "I'll stay there until its time to go.

Don't suppose you'll just let me leave with a note on your doorstep?"

"Would you?" Daren asked. For a shameful instant he wondered if locking Andrus in a turbolift with Lieutenant Krieghoff would speed up the process of getting him the information he wanted.

Andy smiled. "Not if this Krieghoff fellow is as scary as you picture him to be. Think he'd really do that if you ordered him?"

That, at least, was safe ground, and the irritation at having had the thought plucked from his mind prompted him to say, "Oh no, Mr. Suder, I wouldn't have to order him to do anything at all. Just put him in the same room with you and let nature take its course. The fact that I haven't is something that you should be very, very grateful for." If he'd wanted *violence* done to Suder, he'd have just told June what the man claimed to know and lock *her* in the room with him.

The Betazoid shrugged. "Honestly, Captain, if I thought I could get away with it, I probably would leave just like that."

"You can't." Daren's response was flat and brooked no discussion. "So we meet in two days?"

Andrus nodded. "Agreed."

Retribution Series

"Meeting of the Minds"

Rear Admiral Bill Murdock - NPC (Michal)
Admiral Sapphira Tinodal- NPC (Michal)
Admiral Sebastian Wallace - NPC (Stuart)

****

"Sapphira." His fleshy hand reached out to grasp hers, offering a firm handshake.

Her white hair bobbed as she took a seat opposite of him. "Bill."

The elderly woman's face was stoic, the information she read earlier did not place her in a jovial mood. "This is serious."

"As I am aware. It's a delicate matter."

"Admirals." Wallace nodded out as he entered the secure room. That he had been pulled from his golf game had been one thing, but that he had to spend time in a room with his ex-lover was a total other ballgame. But, shrugging off the ill feelings, he took his seat and picked up the PADD before him, giving the brief outline that their talks would be about, the once over. Waving a hand at the PADD, - Sebastian preferred to hear what they were to discuss, rather than read about it - he spoke up, "What juicy topic are we contemplating today?"

Sapphira sighed. "We have an operative for the 'Inner Sanctum' that has come forward and is requesting protection. She's been involved for many years....and....as you can see....has been responsible for many deaths of influential people."

Seb nodded as she read out the details of the case before the Panel of the Three.

Bill steepled his fingers, then leaned over slightly on the table. "A decision needs to be made now. This information, especially the people this woman names, will certainly cause an uproar."

"Do you think so?" The elderly woman protested. "Why are we even wasting our time with her? Have you known anyone in IS that has ever told the complete truth?" She stood somewhat, slamming her fists into the wood table. "Never!" Clearing her throat, she sat and offered her view point. "Kill her."

"Jumping the gun here aren't you? From the sounds of it, it was a gutsy move to come forward with this list of crimes," he gestured to the data scrolling across the PADD, "damning the consequences to oneself." Wallace added.

He shook his head. "Really Sap, do you think that is the most intelligent option here?"

"It's the only option!"

"No it isn't. She can be saved. We can begin the process of taking them down."

"That, remains to be seen Admiral. IS operatives are nothing but trouble. Once they are out, they never are fully out. They are tempted to come back. How many have we helped them, only to have them go back?" She shook her head. "I'm advising against that option. It will only cause trouble in the long run."

"So what? You wish to just do away with the woman who in all likelihood has provided us with the means to finally take them down?" Sebastian said as he swiveled in his chair.

He thought for a moment. "At this time, I'm undecided."

"Well, I'm against protective custody. It's a damn stupid idea....and you are just waiting to get burned again if you choose it." She stated, leaning back in her chair. "Just my two cents."

"More like three hundred cents." Bill muttered under his breath.

"Sebastian....your opinion?"

Seb looked from one Admiral to the other. "Honestly, I am undecided.

One one hand, she has provided a lot of information here that will aid in their downfall. On the other, her list of crimes is extensive."

Bill nodded. "So be it then.....we will stay here until we reach a decision."

Retribution Series

"The Truth Shall Be Revealed......Just Not Now."

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister
1st Lt. Steven Jonas

****

Sickbay

****

He sat at her side, waiting for her to wake up.

They had said that she was going to be fine. That he had stopped enough of the drug from entering her system that they could reverse the effects. That she was going to survive.

He had no idea how she was going to react to what he had done, in stopping her from using all the drug, but he didn't care. He wanted to be there as she woke. It was that simple. He loved her and wanted to be there.

As he held her hand in his, he thought back to his mad dash back to her quarters after they had reached sickbay.

They needed to know what she had taken and he took the technician to get the half used hypo. Reaching her quarters, he had pointed him to the hypo and then sat on the soft bed, thinking for a moment. There was nothing he could do for her while they tried to give her the cure that might save her life.

Kronos bounced up to Steven and rubbed past his legs. Absentmindedly, Steven reached down and petted Faylin's dog. He had known the animal just over a month, but with Fay being tended to, he figured it could do with a little friendly pat. Watching the dog scamper off to it's little bed, he sighed. Oh to be so oblivious to all the shit in the universe, he mused.

Laying back, upon the silky sheets that covered their bed, his mind tried to comprehend why she'd try and end her life, on this of all days. It had been less than twelve hours since they had had that small ceremony, not even having the time to be together as husband and wife. Why? Why now?

She was always so secretive, always hiding her cards to her chest, not letting him in close. He knew it was something he had to just accept. But this was something else. What had he done to drive her to suicide? Was it something he said? Did? or Didn't do? Had he forgotten her birthday?

She had never told him what day her birthday was. Why go through the charade of getting married only to try and kill herself? Was this her ultimate prank? A way to make it, three pranks to nil. With no way of getting back at her.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the darkness encroach upon his thoughts, allowing it to caress his mind, torturing him mercilessly with questions as to why she'd do this to him. Questions he knew he'd likely never get real answers to.

Opening his eyes suddenly, he pushed the thoughts away and stood up.

He needed to see that she'd be alright. That she might have some sort of explanation. Though somehow, he knew in his very being that she'd skirt the questions and not give him peace of mind.

Steven felt his hand being squeezed and it drew him back to the present. Opening his eyes, he saw Faylin stirring.

"Jonas?"

"Hey hon, I'm here." he replied as he squeezed her hand back.

"So, I'm alive?"

Steven nodded. "Yes"

The sigh she expelled was heavy with frustration. "How?"

"I found you injecting yourself with something. I stopped you from finishing the job."

"I needed to die." She turned her head to the side, avoiding his gaze and questions.

"Why? Did I do something wrong? Is this my punishment for thinking you actually cared for me?"

"Oh Steven, do grow up. There are things in this universe bigger than you are." She stated through ragged breath.

"Could you have been any more cold and heartless, after the vows we both took this morning, to leave me with nothing but a note that just says 'Sorry'? How am I supposed to take that? A fraking note, Fay. That's all I would have had to explain it to me. Is that how little you really love me?"

"No, of course not. It was either this or be killed. I have to be in control." Her tone turned dark, part of the issue of control as her head tilted to the side on the pillow.

"And how just just killing yourself while leaving behind a half dozen word note keep you in control?"

"Steve........"

"Did you even consider us both resigning our commissions and taking off somewhere? Cause I love you Fay, you know that. I'd do anything for you."

"I have secrets....that....I can't explain right now." Fay stated, turning her head to the side.

Steven sighed and looked around. All the nurses were busy about their duties, and he couldn't see Kimberly or Doc Mathieson anywhere. "I

know you have your secrets, hon, but this..." Steven paused, trying to find the words he wanted to say, but failing, said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm your husband for gods sake. Does that not count for anything?"

"In the big picture with what I've done. You'll be attending my funeral soon enough. I just thought sooner would be better."

"So why go through the charade of getting married, when you knew damn well that there was no point?

"How can you say that there was not a point? Steven, there is no point in arguing...you'd never understand fully."

Steven sighed. "How am I supposed to even begin to understand when you won't even let me part way in? And how can you say there is a point? You made me feel so glad that I met you, that I married you this morning and then do something like this without a word?"

"Your doing a damn good job of making me feel guilty." Her voice turned firm, with a hint of nastiness to it.

"Yes I am trying to make you feel guilty." He took a few steps away to try and refocus. "Do you love me Fay? Do you honestly love me?"

"Yes, Steve...."

"Did you not promise to Love, Honor and Cherish me? Just this morning?"

"Yes." She stated with a roll of her eyes.

And what about Trust? Marriage is supposed to be about trust. How can I put my trust in you, when you're just out to break my heart?"

"This is bigger than your heart!!!! God, if only. I can not tell you! I can't tell anyone. Don't you get that? Do you get that really? Honestly. Look, I hate to say this...but at this time...what I'm doing is more important than this marriage." She regretted saying that with the look that suddenly came into his eyes. "I'm sorry...but it is."

"Then why did you drag me down to that chapel this morning? If it's more important. Why put me through the aggrivation and heartache? Why not just do what you did, without..." He couldn't continue. It was too hard. It was too hard to try and figure her out.

"I love you. I wanted to be married....it's something that I've always wanted." She stated simply.

Steven nodded. He wished he could help, but if she wasn't going to let him in, there wasn't much he could do. He loved her more than he ever thought possible, yet he knew in his heart that he was losing her to the darkness of her past. He leant down and kissed her. "Have I said how much I love you today?" he smiled weakly.

"Not yet." Faylin softly smiled back, inwardly frowning as she realized her objective had not been met.

"Well I do. I love you, Fay. You are my wife. And I love you." He said as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I just don't understand."

"Someday you will." McAlister quietly spoke.

Upon finishing her statement, a nurse wandered over, checking her readings off the bed. A slight furrowed brow met McAlister's gaze, and Faylin knew what the nurse was reading. The solution was working, fighting off anything the doctors and nurses on the ship were trying.

It would not be long now....

Blinking her eyelids, Faylin nestled into the pillow. "Steven, I think I want to rest now." Her skin grew paler by the hour, accented only by darkened circles underneath her eyes. Glancing over at a ancient book she had requested he bring, she noted the page with the red cross on it. The page, contained the antibody that would counter effect the poison she injected herself with. A single strip of the page, inserted in the mouth and left to dissolve, let the poisoned person live. Now, would be the time to ingest the strip if she wanted to save herself. Yet, the book sat in her palm, not disturbed.

Steven nodded. "Sure babe. I'll come check on you later." He leant over and kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you too...." Her brown eyes disappeared under eyelids dotted with thick eyelashes as she attempted to fall back asleep. Time had passed, the antibody no longer effective as it sat in her palm. She had won.....they had not gotten to her.

Steven turned for the door. Someone he knew that he might never see her alive again. He couldn't explain it, he just felt it in himself.

And it scared him big time. He didn't want to lose her, yet it seemed she had already fought that battle and lost. When he reached the door, he turned back and blew her a kiss before leaving Sickbay.

Faylin slowly closed her eyelids, reminding herself repeatedly that this was how it needed done. "Damn............."

Retribution Series

"Rite of Passage"

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister
Lt. Steven Jonas
Lt. Saul Bental
Lt. Kimberly Burton

Location: Secure Sick Bay Room

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

The dark eyes that were Faylin's were shrouded in peace. The time was coming for Fay to die, all countermeasures to try and save her had been unsuccessful. Blinking slowly, she had requested Saul to see her first.

Watching him enter, she smiled somewhat. Those all to familiar footsteps sounded forced now, instead of graceful. It was the last time that she would see him, and she wanted to glue his image to her memory to save until she arrived where she was going next.

"Hey."

"Hey." The man echoed his voice. Saul Bental was scared to death of death. Hearing what happened to Faylin stunned him - she was as liveful as he was, equally thirsty to take the next gasp of air, to see what the next day brings. And now...

She paused, taking a ragged breath, one of her last. "Saul...."

"Fay-Fay... what have you done?"

"You know I had to do it.....it was the only option. The Captain knows....." Faylin outstretched her hand towards him, wanting him to grasp it in his. "Take care of yourself....I know you will." Her voice soft, full of memories that were filled with their time together.

"You always have to draw attention." Saul murmured. But he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek anyway.

Steven had dropped everything when the call had come in that Faylin was in sickbay. He'd let the tray containing his lunch hit the floor with a thump as he took off towards the turbolift. So it wasn't surprising that he reached sickbay out of breath. He paused only to catch his breath for a moment before walking through and spotting Faylin on one of the beds with Saul standing next to her.

He thought that he might get jealous that he was there, but the look on her face when she saw the Marine walking in melted it away. The intelligence chief took the hint, nodded at Steven, and departed.

Her smile was different this time as she viewed his pained face.

"Steve. I love you."

"I love you too." Steven took her hand in his, squeezing gently.

"Isn't there anything you can do Kimberly?" he asked as he saw Doctor Burton watching on.

Stood nearby, looking on sadly Burton said nothing, but the look on her face and the slow shake of her head said it all. There was nothing to be done, the toxins were one of those that there was no cure for.

He didn't want to believe her when she slowly shook her head. Tears started flowing, and he didn't care to wipe them away. "No, please Fay, I need you."

Saying nothing, Faylin's hand gently cupped the right side of his face. Her expression peaceful as her eyelids slowly raised and lowered. "It's my time Steven."

He reached up and pressed his hand against hers. "I need you Fay. I can't lose you. Not now. Not after all that happened to finally bring us together. Please fight it. Whatever it is, fight it. Please. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll be fine. Just stay away from the hooch." She tried to chuckle, but coughed in it's place. The area under her eyes started to darken.

"One more thing baby...."

"Yeah babe?"

"I'll send someone to love you.....Steven...." Faylin paused. "I could never love you the way you deserved to be loved."

"I don't want someone else. I want you. I want to grow old with you, like we were shown in that vision by your old friend." He played with ring on his left hand. God how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And now it seemed that that was being taken from him yet again. Like everything else in his life.

Faylin's gaze softened. "I'll always be around you. When you smell a rose, remember me. When you see a strawberry, you'll remember our first date. My essence will always haunt you in a good way Steven. I will be just a memory. But, I will send someone to you. Love her.......and remember me."

Steven didn't know what to say. She was wanting him to move on. He was speechless, trult speechless for the first time in a long time. So he just nodded, as the tears fell.

Reaching down he kissed her, like he had that first time in the holodeck. Their first date, in what seemed like months ago. "I love you, Faylin McAlister."

"Bye Stev........." Gently, her eyes closed, signaling her final victory over the Inner Sanctum.

"Faylin....come on sweetie. How about one more day baby? Give us one more day...." He reached out, grasping her hand and shook it gently.

Her lifeless body did not respond.

"Time of death?" The nurse questioned.

"21:37." Came the quiet reply.

"Fay....please. Okay, not a day. How about an hour Faylin? Just sixty minutes." His green eyes pleaded with her closed eyelids.

"Cause of death?"

"Fine." Steven shook his head. "Alright. Five minutes Fay. Just come back to me for five little......Faylin?"

"Asphyxiation of the lungs due to toxic levels of poisonous chemicals."

He reached out, grabbing the sheet and whipping it off her violently.

"Faylin! You will not leave me!" The Marine bellowed in a drill sergeant voice.

"Lt. Please." The nurse attempted to cover her gowned body.

"Don't!" He growled as he gently placed his left arm under her knees and his right arm under her shoulder blades. As he lifted her, McAlister's head flopped back, lifting her sleeping face to the sky.

"Oh.........." Jonas sadly stated. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

"Lt. What in the hell are you............."

"I want to hold her, one more time." He carried her lifeless body over to a chair, sitting while he lowered his head to whisper in her ear.

"I love you like I've loved no other. You are my soul."

Glancing sideways at the doctor, the nurse raised her eyebrows and pointed to her chronometer.

"Give him five minutes." Kimberly said softly, "but get me 5cc's of Melorazine."

He held her in his arms, trying desperately to convince himself she wasn't gone just yet. She was just sleeping. Faylin was still warm, she still smelled sweet, and she still was going to be his wife.

"Lt. Jonas....we need her back now."

He looked upwards to the bright lights, then lowered his head against her neck as he lifted her quite easily. In a few steps, he let her down, placing her on the biobed.

Steven sank to the ground, his shaky legs unable to support his body anymore. The tears flowed as he held her hand. "No" he screamed.

"Please no. Someone do something." The flow of tears turned into a stream as the realization that Fay was dead hit him like a hard fast punch to the stomach.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt a hand patting his shoulder reassuringly.

Steven shook his head. "I'm not leaving her. I can't leave her."

Rising to his feet he bent over Faylin's body and held her tight. "I love you Faylin." he whispered.

"Call security........now."

Unbeknown to him, Faylin stood quietly in the corner next to Death.

Her form was transparent, her tears crystal as they trailed down her face. She felt his hand on her shoulder, with that motion, McAlister glanced upwards at the face of Death. She said nothing, wondering if what she agreed to was the correct path. Steve would never know Faylin McAlister again as he knew her presently.

"Ready?" Death posed the question without words, sending the question to her head.

"Not yet." Faylin stated, her eyes still watching the scene unfold.

Her hand outstretched, as she walked over to the struggling form of Jonas. Death halted her motion, shaking his head negatively. "No." The dark voice spoke.

Murphy always hated calls like this. They had been too numerous to count lately. The doors opened, with the voice of a clearly distraught man being heard as she shouted 'NO!' and 'Get away!' over and over again. His deep breath broadened his already massive chest as he glanced over knowingly at his partner.

"Lt. Jonas." His baritone voice firm. "She's gone. You need to let the doctors do their work now."

Steven barely heard the voice, so focused on Faylin's still form.

"Lt." The heavy hand was placed on Marine's shoulder. "She's gone."

The tone of voice was still firm.

Feeling the hand on his shoulder again he brushed it off. "Leave me alone Saul."

Murphy glanced sideways to his partner yet again as they came up behind Jonas. He placed his hands on Jonas's left arm, while Daughtery did the same on the opposite side. Tugging gently, the attempted to make their point with out too much force. "You need to let her go now."

"Let go Steven." McAlister spoke, yet no one heard her. Her lips pursed as she a step forward. With hesitation, she stuck her hand through one of the security officer's bodies. Confusion waved across her face.

"Your dead Faylin. You are your soul now. Your body is just a shell."

Death spoke.

Steven turned slightly, seeing that it wasn't in fact Saul at all. Not that it mattered. The woman he loved lay dead and they were disrespecting that. "Leave me alone."

"Lt. Final warning Sir." The grips hardened.

With regret Kimberly looked to the burly nurses, he'd hate her for it later. Nodding to them she indicated they should stop him. Passing the hypo with the mild sedative to a nurse, "Last resort," she ordered.

The nurses on the other side tugged with just as much force, attempting to stop Jonas from carrying McAlister off.

McAlister stood, watching with utter amazement. He really did truly love her with his whole being.

"Piss off. Can't you see that my wife just died?"

"Alright. Pull him off." The force exerted was more than imagined necessary. Steven would just not let go of this woman he had loved.

Medical personal were on the other side, supporting Faylin so she wouldn't slide off of the table as Jonas's attempted to hold her in his arms.

"I love you Fay." he said as they ripped him away from her. "You hear me!! Wherever you are, know that I love you. Fay..."

"I love you too Steven!" Tears flowed from her eyes as she lowered her head and wept. "I will always......no matter where I am....." She rushed towards him, only to pass completely through Jonas. "Damn."

"Yeah, I hate it when that happens." Death muttered sarcastically.

"Welcome to the other side Faylin......"

"LT JONAS! SHE'S DEAD!" The tugging turned into yanking as they carted him off to the brig to calm down.

Steven fought with all his might, trying to break free. "Nooo! Let me go." As the doors closed, he slumped down, exhausted, unable to fight them anymore. He had lost everything dear to him. After all that they had been through to finally find a love shared, and it was all ripped away from them. He didn't know how he was going to go on.

"We have to go now.....someone wants to see you." He stated to Faylin.

She studied Jonas's face, memorizing every feature in case...... The couple swirled off to the underworld..........and...........

Faylin McAlister was dead.

Bearings

Current Alias: Ensign Zev Raynor - Starfleet - Terran Telepath
Assistant Chief Intelligent Officer - USS Galaxy

"Madden" - Newly Reborn Dithparu

"Satan... Satan... Master Satan..." Madden chanted for hundredth time.

"Madden... Shut up..." Raynor replied.

"But were so close... we might even get to see it again..." Madden was gleeful... Raynor, or Pariah Ronin as he refered to himself inside his own mind, never wanted Madden to be gleeful ever... but when talking about 'IT', things always went too... well... no point in thinking about 'IT' more than he had to.

"I don't want to see it again... once was enough..."

"You barely even remember it... you barely remember the power... or them...

how could you... you were only six..."

"I REMEMBER! I REMEMBER- I remember enough... and the price is something I never want to pay again... EVER!"

"Yes but it looks like you won't have a choice... their going to put that organ back in you Zevy boy... the second clone is dying... they're removing the organ... and there only one viable test subject... you."

"And original question that we needed confirmed... even though we both know the answer?"

"Yes, yes... were on Remus... Should I ask?"

"Ask what?"

"How did you know?"

Raynor always hated trying to explain everything... It was just annoying...

but when you had to do it for someone who resided inside your own head it just made it more annoying... Which was the entire point of the exercise. So he went through the explaination anyways.

"First off when I came to, I didn't have a beard, and they don't look like the type that would give me a shave... second, despite the fact their alien I can still see a look of defeat and edginess in their eyes... third I didn't lost any of muscle mass... meaning I haven't been knocked out for any long period of time, and that the battle for Romulus didn't go as they planned, and their still kinda within enemy terroritory with the threat of possible attack at any moment. Remus is the only planet within spitting distance that already has the ability to support life, and yet go unnoticed by the majority of fleet. Since no one is in any shape to do a thorough search, a few machines designed to give misleading sensor readings could cover your ass quite well..."

"All this on three observations..."

"Well... it also helps when you have the entire pretty much the every single casuality in your head telling you their own personal story of how bad their life went..."

"So someone on the ship that was transporting us here died... and with it, their entire plan..."

"Pretty much..."

"Speaking of plans... you got one yet?"

"What am I? The Batman?"

"Pariah Ronin... a God of Death... the Speaker for the Dead..."

"Alright, Alright I get the idea... I have something... though I've pretty much worked out primary and secondary objectives... plus I've got help on the outside ready to move... the only thing I really to know is the layout facility a complete layout... not just some half assed wanderings... and I need someone I can trust..."

"I'm flattered... but we both know you don't trust me..."

"I said I had help on the outside... you'll have to wait and see who I mean though..."

"Great... Wait and see... I hated that game..."

"Puzzles and Prayer"

Ensign Hoda H. Arles
Security Officer

There are five crew quarters, each on a different deck. Each occupant belongs to a different department, is a different race, enjoys a different holonovel and is a different rank. Using the clues below, which department is the ensign in and what race is she?

Hoda tucked her tongue between her molars as she read through the logic puzzle. Over the course of her early education, she had discovered that she really rather enjoyed them. When well written, they forced her mind off of everything else and she became consumed by the task at hand. She wasn't very fast with them, and often had to resort to guess work when the obvious clues had been exhausted, but still she never relented until she finished.

The one that faced her now had been a parting gift from one of her friends at the Academy. A home-brewed one. Hoda knew that a solution and review were expected of her, so in addition to the padd on which she was making the grid and filling in answers piece by piece, she also had one on which she jotted notes about the level of difficulty, interest, and any accidental mistakes.

With the final repairs still underway and her meeting with her department head scheduled but in the offing, Hoda had more than ample time to adjust to ship life. Her first priority upon coming aboard had been to contact her superiors. It was a busy time, apparently, and so she turned her attention to her quarters. They were far larger than what she was accustomed to, but woefully sterile. Not that Hoda had many possessions to fill the empty spaces, but one's residence ought to at least reflect thought. It was something she had come to believe in very firmly during her novitiate. Like all other school boarders, young Hoda had thought that the cells of nuns and monks were uniform - lacking any unique marks of character or any elements to distinguish ownership. Yet once Hoda had made the decision to become a sister, she had learned to look differently at one imprinted the self on the surroundings. The angle of a bed beneath a window. The location of the crucifix. The care for one's clothing. The indentations upon the bed.

All had something far more fundamental to say about a person than any poster or lone possession.

Thus in Hoda's new quarters, the result was something of an aesthetic Feng Shui. A small cross was affixed above the bed, which had been moved to abut against two walls, the pillow crammed into the corner.

The bedside table, which now stood at the foot of the bed, held a glass of water and an ornately painted wooden clock. It bore only one hand and no numbers. Instead, around its face, the canonical hours had been written out: Matins, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline. Presently, the hand hovered at the edge of Vespers: the evening devotion.

Before the chime could strike, Hoda set down her padd. Her own spiritual chronometer had informed her that it was time.

As she knelt on the floor, hands clasped in prayer, a part of her reflected on how she had come to be aboard the USS Galaxy, and a security officer after only being a few months shy of taking her vows.

The rest of her prayed for guidance now that she was here.

"The End of All Things"

First Lieutenant Steven Jonas
Marine, USS Galaxy

****

The Brig

****

Steven sat on the cot in the small cell, staring straight ahead, unaware of anything around him. Faylin was gone, and they had taken her body away from him. Tears had streamed down his face for long into the early hours of the morning, leaving the front of his uniform soaking.

His eyes were red from all the crying and he hadn't slept all night. Steven didn't want to sleep. He feared that he'd lose the memories of her smile, the way she played with her hair when she thought he wasn't watching, the way she always made him feel. He didn't want to lose any of it.

Lost in thoughts of Faylin, he failed to hear the sound of the cell forcefield drop, or the entrance of a couple of Security guards.

"Sir," one of them called out. "Sir" he said again shaking Steven's shoulder lightly.

Steven blinked and turned his head upwards towards the man. "What?" he snarled.

"The funeral service for Lieutenant McAlister is in an hour and we've been asked to take you to your quarters to get ready. If you wish to attend that is?"

Steven held back from smacking him in the jaw. "She was my fiancee, why wouldn't I want to go?"

Rising to his feet, he stepped forward, only to be held back by the guard. He was holding up a pair of handcuffs.

"You're kidding right?" He snarled again. "You think I'm gonna run?"

The man lowered the cuffs and replaced them on his belt. "No funny business."

Steven nodded and walked out, headed to the quarters that he and Faylin had begun sharing after they had gotten back together.

The walk from the brig to their quarters had been relatively quiet, with everyone either working, sleeping or having breakfast. Only one person passed him as the Marine and his guards walked the halls, and he had scurried away when he saw the look in Steven's eyes.

Steven stepped into their quarters for the first time since she had died. Everything looked just as it had been, even the painting on the wall that Aerv had given her. Turning to the two guards he spoke forcefully, "I won't have anyone defiling these quarters, so you two can wait outside!"

Nodding, the two guards took positions at the sides of the door.

Stepping forward, he let the door slide closed and sank onto the couch as the tears began to flow again.

Eventually he stood up and walked to the shower. Stripping off his uniform from the day before, he stepped into the shower and turned it on. As the sweat and tears washed away, he thought again of her beautiful smile, and the things they had gotten up to in the shower he currently stood in. Finally done, he stepped out and shivered. He had always hated sonic showers, preferring the old style water based ones.

Wrapping a towel around his torso, despite the fact that the sonic shower meant that you were already dry, he made his way into the bedroom and pulled out his dress uniform. As he pulled on his underwear, he spotted her bottle of perfume on the nightstand and padded over to it. Sitting down on the bed he cautiously picked it up. He wasn't about to break the only bottle of the stuff on the Galaxy, even is she was no longer around to use it. Pressing the button at the top, a fine spray was emitted from the nozzle, filling the room with her aroma.

Sighing, he placed the bottle back on the night stand as the tears started flowing yet again. Wiping them away with the back of his hand, he admonished himself. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to show her that he was strong; that he loved her, as she watched on at him trying to get by without her in his life.

Standing up, he made his way round the bed to his uniform and began meticulously putting it on. He wanted her to look down at him at her funeral service and see that everything looked perfect. He knew she'd smile at that. And that she'd be next to him in spirit as he said his final goodbyes.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but cry. At least she wouldn't have to stand at his funeral, sending his body off into space. He had spared her that torment, even if he had to go through it with hers.

Turning, he left the room. He had a funeral to go to, his wife's funeral and he had to make a stop for a beautiful Rose of the deepest red on the way.

"Morning After"

McAlister & Rex

OOC - Takes place after "Tiki Torches & Moonlight"

Blinking twice, McAlister opened her eyes with somewhat of a dreaded feeling. The taste in her mouth left nothing to be desired, and resembled something akin to smoking embers after a campfire. Her head, was an entirely different story all together. It felt like mush....to be able to command her brain to construct a simple sentance would not be a good idea at this point in time.

Her arm flipped over, landing ceremoniously with a smack on the chest of her bed fellow. "Oh gods....what did......"

The impact drew a soft "oomph" from her bed-mate, who had, until then been resting quite comfortably. "That's not nearly as nice a way to wake up as the way we went to sleep." Corran Rex murmered in a fashion he was certain was only half-intelligible.

Fay sighed as she rolled over to her side, propping her head up with her elbow. "If I only knew that.." She trailed off quietly.

"Little late for second thoughts, darlin." he said after a good yawn, stretch, and scratch.

McAlister somewhat recoiled at his scratching. "Can you wait until I leave to do that?" She muttered as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and attempted to sit up without pain. "Owww."

"Don't tell me you're suddenly getting shy." he teased in a slightly mocking tone.

"I'm amazed I normally have the mental capacity to know every inch of the law. I think, I was hell bent on knowing every inch of you last night...." She glanced over at her partner. Despite the alcohol's after affects, he still looked good....very good. And, her and Steven were not together. A half smile etched across her disheveled face.

"You....wow."

The grin only got more impish after that. Corran Rex was feeling very good this morning indeed. "Hey, I know."

"Don't let it go to your head Rex...And please don't say which head."

She stood, grabbing the side table for support. "I'm going to borrow your shower."

"Help yourself." he replied, pointing across his small quarters to where the head was. As she stood, he folded his arms behind his head, and appreciatively watched the show as she crossed to the bathroom.

"Nice." he whispered to himself.

After a moment's thought - just before the door closed - he called out "Just call out if you want company."

He wasn't sure what the reply was, but he was pretty sure part of it wasn't fit to print.

However, it was fit. "What's taking you so long Corran? I've seen constipated buffalo that move faster than you." She peeked her head out from around the door, her dark hair still disheveled. "Unless, you've suddenly found morality in the last two................"

He was, naturally, up in a flash. His reply, however, was completely wordless.

A slight rustling later, a low feminine gutteral sound cut through his quarters. "Good......god........Corran."

(OOC: Hi all. This post marks the funeral service for Faylin. Though we couldn't bring everyone in to write it for fear of spoiling the plotline of her death, those of you who wish may attend in your own posts or JP's. And if anyone wishes to use Steven in your posts at the Funeral, he's likely to not say much. Just nod and shake his head as the tears flow. Peace and love to you all. Stuart)

"Lest We Forget"

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe, Assistant Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - Chief Medical Officer
First Lieutenant Branwen London, Furies XO and Staff psychologist
First Lieutenant Steven Jonas, CO - Second Platoon, Furies
Lt. (Jg) Chandrakala Eshe, Engineering officer
Pilot Paulo DiMillo Michael McDowell - Civilian Engineering Specialist
The Chaplain (NPC - Stuart)

****

The Chapel

****

The doors opened before Steven as he stepped up to them. He stifled a sob at the sight before him.

The Chapel was decked out for a funeral with large bunches of flowers against the walls, the Chaplain and Captain dressed in their finest standing near the coffin that held Faylin's body. Draped over her coffin, the Starfleet flag lay. Off in front, in the pews, sat her friends and colleagues, some of whom Steven had never met, but many whom he knew, such as Dhani, Michael and Kimberly.

The huge bunches of flowers made his pitiful single Rose feel like a joke, but it was what he had done for her several times and he knew she'd appreciate it.

Stepping in, he heard the guards take positions at the sides of the doors, but paid them no heed as he made his way towards the coffin. He stifled more sobs as he approached.

A hand placed itself on Steven's shoulder. "She's not gone," the Captain's voice said quietly. "Remember that: no matter how bad you feel, no matter how lost you may be without her, she's not really gone. She's resting now, but soon, she'll live again, bright and shining in Allah's grace." His voice grew softer, the words now meant only for Steven's ears. "In time, you'll meet her again, and when that happens... it will be as if you've never been apart at all.

Remember that, Steven."

Steven nodded in appreciation at his words and tried to smile.

As he stepped up to the coffin, he found his hands shaking like nothing before.

Placing a hand on the coffin, he began crying again. She was so close and yet so far away. "I love you Fay." he whispered as he placed the single Red Rose upon the top of the coffin. "I will always love you."

The Chaplain looked over at the Marine with a great sadness. It had only been the day before when he and Faylin had come to him to have him wed them.

They had been so full of happiness and love, and now, seeing the young man crying over her coffin sent a shiver down his spine. That he had to go through the highest of joys and then the lowest of sadnesses in one single day would likely haunt him for years to come. He blinked several times, trying to dry the tears that he knew were starting to form.

The Bosun's mate hated this task above all others. It meant that someone had left them and he was to announce that fact. He hated it for all it was worth.

But it was his duty, so he placed the whistle to his lips and played out the sequence of tones that indicated that a funeral for one of their own was about to start.

Steven began crying for the hundredth time since she had passed away, and at the sound of the tone, he sank down to his knees next to her coffin as the tears flowed freely.

Stepping out from the pews Dhanishta went to Steven's aid. Coming up along side him she knelt down and gently wrapped her arm around his back and under his arm. Steven looked up at her and nodded, letting her help him up. Without a single word, for her eyes and expression spoke louder, she rose to her feet, pulling him up gently with her. Her eyes could not escape the sight of the coffin as she stood next to him. What surprised her more is the void she felt inside as her eyes fixed upon it.

Clenching her teeth against the rise of emotion she turned to Jonas.

Gently she guided him to his seat, looking back at Michael; she nodded towards him conveying that she would stay with him, for now at least.

Mirroring Dhani, Michael only replied with a slight nod so she knew he understood. He looked at Jonas, a man whose life lay in ruins. Death had taken away his loved one, and if anything could break a man it was that. He averted his eyes and looked down. It was not so long ago since his mother had died. It was not the same as loosing the woman you loved, but in some way he understood what the Marine must be going through now.

Standing next to Michael, Kala looked on, her face stoic and pail. It wasn't that long ago that Faylin was pounding her into the ground for sleeping with Jonas, and not too long after that she had been standing with her on a beach, overlooking a tranquil sea indulged in their first conversation, taking that step from adversaries towards friends. She couldn't put names to all the faces that surrounded her, she had only just transferred here after the war, but these were the faces of the lives that this woman touched. Their pain ran deep, some deeper than others, yet all of them were united in that pain. It wasn't an emotion that one cared to feel.

Paulo sat near the back watching. No emotions on his face. He looked like had when his little sister had diapered. He had made such strides the last few months. He was having a good time. He was seeing someone, and Fay and gotten him to get his ass out of the mud. Literally. She was a pain in the ass a lot of the time. An arrogant bitch, but she was a good person. And she cared for her friends.

He looked down. He held a simple rose that had been handed to him when he had entered the room, but he didn't do anything with it. He just stood their and looked at it, and then occasional at the people gathered up front. This was as much respect as would be paying. There was something, something too similar. His sister taken right out of his home during the light of day. Fay's daughter getting poisoned on a Starfleet ship. Something wasn't right, and that something had its fingers within everything.

But he couldn't do anything anymore. He was merely a Pilot and an Intelligence Analyst with no chance for advancement. He had fucked up any chance of commanding his own ship, or running his own department ages ago. What he had now was is few friends, and that was it. Not even Ann was here anymore. Back at Starfleet Medical where should would stay for a good long time.

Branwen sat next to Paulo and gently touched his shoulder for support.

She always felt awkward in her dress uniform and wished they didn't have to be here for this sad occasion. Her heart felt heavy for Steven. It was good to see that he had friends there to support him. Earlier Bran had to fight the urge to go forward to hug him or whatever. But this moment he needed to be with friends. To him she was his boss and shrink.

Sometimes that was difficult.

She thought of Faylin, not that she had known the woman well. What she had seen Bran had liked. Faylin had stood behind her in that terrible thing with the Miranda doc. The jag officer had believed in her and made her feel good. For that she would always be grateful and remember the woman for.

Sat near the back of the gathering Kimberly simply watched and prayed.

Not just because a member of the crew had died, but because once again, despite her best efforts someone had died. One of the reasons she had chosen to become a Doctor was to try and stave off the inevitable, to ward away death for as long as possible. It was a losing battle, no one got out of life alive, but you could give it a damn fine attempt. Here, like so many others in recent memory was another failure. Not Faylin's by any means, but hers. Another crew member gone beyond. Consciously, and even partly sub-consciously there was the knowledge that there had been little she could do, but there was always the 'what if?'

She also mourned because she had not really gotten to know Faylin. There were hundreds of people aboard, and even the Chief Medical officer couldn't know them all, but there was that regret that when someone died you wish you'd made that little extra effort. She like everyone aboard had their story to tell, their thoughts, dreams and desires. And now all those were lost, forgotten to time like so many other things.

Daren looked down at the coffin and then slowly moved out to stand next to it, looking back up into the auditorium. "Allah moves in ways that are beyond our knowledge," he began quietly. "I do not presume to understand why He felt that Faylin was needed, or why He chose to call her to Him in this manner; such things are beyond me. I must simply have faith that it was necessary for His plan that guides the universe. That does nothing to make the pain of her absence fade, or answer the questions that her passing leaves us with... but it will sustain me until I meet her again and she can answer those questions for me." He paused and looked out at those attending. "I hope and pray that that faith will sustain you, as well, until that time arrives." Daren bowed his head for a moment, and then slowly moved back to his seat.

Steven lowered his head as he thought of Faylin. He hoped beyond all hope that she was safe, with Olivia and her folks. As he listened to the Captain speak, he couldn't help but pray, for the first time in a long time that he might get the chance to see her one last time. If only for a second or two. His heart ached that much that he didn't know what he'd now do without her in his life.

Raising his hands briefly to gain the audience's attention, the Chaplain took a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Presiding over funerals was the one part of his job that he disliked. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "Thank you for coming for the service for Lieutenant Faylin McAlister. It is going to be a short service, such as she had wanted."

Steven looked up, unsure of why no one had thought to ask his opinion on his wife's funeral service. Not that it really mattered. She was gone and wasn't coming back. Her past had robbed her of it. Her past and her lack of faith that somehow they, she and he, could have found a way past her troubles.

"The legacy of a person, is not governed by your material possessions, but rather, on what you accomplish in your life, however should it may be. And with Faylin McAlister, the legacy she forged in the offices and courtrooms that made up her profession will live on for many years to come. Through dedication and perseverance, she evolved beyond her mortal means to build a brilliant career as a JAG within the halls of Starfleet. Through her will, she brought the justice of the courtroom to those who had sinned, and saved the righteous from a lifetime in jail.

She was well respected and had many friends who could depend on her. As evidenced by the large turnout to farewell her to her next life up in heaven."

Steven shook his head slightly at his words. He had depended on her, to be there with him as they began life as a married couple, and yet she had chosen to take her own life. As tears fell once more, he reached up and wiped them away.

"Faylin's time aboard the Galaxy was short, punctuated by recent events on ch'Rihan. However, she has made many friends and I'm sure some of you may wish the opportunity to speak. If you so wish, Please come forward." The Chaplain stepped back, and off to the side to allow her friends to pay their respects.

Dhanishta took Stevens hand and clasped it within her own. Looking into his tear filled eyes she squeezed it. She tried to speak, yet her voice was blocked by the lump that rose in her throat, so she offered a smile of sympathy instead. Standing up slowly she straightened out her uniform and took a deep breath.

Gracefully she made her way up to the podium. She felt strange to be speaking at someone's funeral. Yes, she knew Faylin, but at the same time she didn't, not as well as she would have liked; and that cut deep.

Standing before the group gathered she gulped slightly. Her eyes glazed over each persons face, one by one; until they watered. Wiping away the moisture she pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. She preferred the written word upon parchment; PADD's felt so cold and detached, especially for something as personal as this. Glancing down at her notes she closed her eyes for a moment wondering where to begin. Everything had happened so quickly that she hadn't the time to write something fitting or to gather any information about Faylin's life prior to meeting her, such a short time ago. She was so unprepared, yet nothing could ever really prepare you for the unexpected death of a friend.

"I am ashamed." Dhanishta breathed as she opened her eyes. Her voice was projected over the silence, cutting through it like a knife through butter and at the same time; falling right into it as a tear drop in the ocean. For some, her words would have meaning, for others as they would merely flow into the ether that surrounded them; water off a ducks back as they were too lost in their own silent reflection.

"I am ashamed to stand here, to address you all and tell you about this woman, when I barley had time to know her." Dhanishta said, slowly placing her hand on the coffin. Licking her dry lips she looked down, imagining Faylin's face through the casing. "She was a beautiful woman."

she said smiling softly, "She had a magnetic personality, repelled and attracted with equal force all those that she came into contact with.

She had a defiant streak in her; she knew what she wanted and was not shy in coming forward, a trait that I would love to possess." she said quietly.

Slowly she turned back to face everyone. "Faylin McAlister was a bright, intelligent woman. She had a passion for her job; you want a ballsey JAG, she was the one you went to. Yet she was also so much more than that. Faylin filled a void in my life, all our lives, that I didn't even know was there, until now. What hurts most is the fact that she lived through so much pain, she survived against all odds; the recent conflict being one of the most challenging, and yet she came through it. She was saved, her life spared by some unforeseen hand, just to be taken by her own. And that cuts deeper." she paused for a moment, wondering if improvisation was really her thing.

Looking down at the paper that was more an anchor than anything else, something to hold on to, to keep her focused, "I wanted to read a poem, something that I think is fitting, for I am certain that Faylin would not wish us to remember her death, but her life. For the life of me I can't remember who wrote it though." she admitted.

"Remember." she stated the title simply, swallowing hard and clearing her throat. "Remember me when I am gone away." she spoke up, allowing her words to resonate in the room, "Gone far away into the silent land; when you can no more hold me by the hand, nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay." Dhanishta paused, the tears stinging her eyes. Her lip wavered, yet she pushed on, so unexpected was the rush of emotion that flowed through her as she continued, "Remember me when no more day by day you tell me of our future that you planned. Only remember me; you understand it will be too late to counsel then or pray."

She couldn't look at Steven, she could feel a pang of pain in her chest and as she stared down at the words they began to blur, moving about the page as her eyes watered. She closed them for a moment, it helped some, yet the tears remained at the edge of her field of vision making everything in the peripheral a blur of color, "Yet if you should forget me for a while, and afterwards remember, do not grieve; For if the darkness and corruption leave a vestige of the thoughts that I once had."

She stopped and looked up at the faces; looked into Stevens face. A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another, and then another, "Better by far you should forget and smile, than that you should remember and be sad."

For a moment she stood, letting her words sink into the room to be absorbed by the minds and hearts therein. Taking the paper she slowly folded it back up, bowing her head in reverence she stepped down from the podium. She begged that she wouldn't trip as she made her way back to Stevens side, for she could no longer see where she was going. Once that first tear fell, the rest came unrelenting.

Steven stood up and walked over to the podium. He didn't know if they wanted him to speak, but he didn't care. Few of these people knew the truth that existed between Faylin and himself, but he was going to share. He had nothing planned to say, nor anything written down. But that didn't matter. Reaching the podium, he looked to the Chaplain. "If you don't mind, I'd like to say a few words."

The Chaplain waved his hand towards the podium, and Steven nodded his thanks. Standing before them all now, he looked out at the small gathering of people through red, tear-filled eyes. "I..." he paused, not sure if he could even speak in front of them. For a moment he just stood there staring out at them. Then he found Dhani looking at him with a concerned, yet understanding smile. It gave him the confidence to speak.

"Please forgive me... I haven't prepared anything. But, as the closest thing to family she had here on the Galaxy, I feel that I should say something."

"I never knew what Faylin McAlister saw in me. We were complete opposites in just about every way. And the start of our relationship, as many of you can attest, was a huge mess. We argued and fought practically every day, we did things and said things that we regretted,"

Steven couldn't bring himself to look at Kala as he said that part, "and well, for a long time I thought the great divide between us was too great for us to survive. She is the most amazing, strong-willed, strong-lipped woman I know, and somehow, through all the fighting, through the war and the aftermath, she and I prevailed. She was my rock, my harbor from the storm. Without her, I don't know what I would have done; I don't know what I will do. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone in my whole fraked up life."

Steven paused, and took the chance to look at the Captain sitting in his seat and the Chaplain off to the side. How hard this job must be for them to have to send one after another on their journey to the afterlife. He felt for them in the task they had to perform so often. "To each of us here today, Faylin meant something different. Friend, JAG, Confident, Colleague, Adversary, these and many more like them describe Faylin, yet to me, she was more. Most of you don't know this, but yesterday morning, before," Steven stopped unable to say the words, unable to tell them that she took her own life. "Yesterday morning she and I came before the Chaplain and were married." As the words came out, a small tear rose up from the corner of his eye and slid down his already wet face.

"She was my best friend, my confident, my lover. She made me feel life again when the darkness had risen up to swallow me. She did all this for me, and I wasn't there in her hour of need, when she needed me more than anything in the world." Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he ignored them. "I have to live with that; with the knowledge that she was hurting inside, that she missed her baby, Olivia, so much. I wasn't there for her and now she's gone."

Steven turned to the coffin. "Baby, I'm sorry. I wasn't there for you when you needed me most. I'm truly sorry Fay. I love you. I always have."

Steven turned from the coffin, ignoring the look he was getting from Dhani. He had a little more to say. "May the Angels up in heaven look down upon her, smile and light her way as she makes the journey to be with her daughter. I love you, Faylin McAlister, my friend; my lover; my angel. Peace be with you always."

Lowering his face, he stepped from the podium and made his way back to his seat. He felt Dhani grab hold of his hand and rub it reassuringly, but he didn't look up. He missed Fay, even after just half a day apart, and he knew in his heart that he'd do anything but to have a few more minutes with the woman who held his heart.

Not knowing what to say, never really knowing Kimberly walked up to the coffin and laid a small wreath of lilies down. Despite having attended funerals during the last war, and since, she had never really learned what was best to say. Platitudes seemed irrelevant and even a little pointless at a time like this. Sometimes silence was all you could offer, that and the reassurance that you were there should you be needed.

Saying farewell though was the one thing she had learned you had to do, or it would eat you up inside.

The Chaplain returned to the podium. "Let us pray." Pausing a moment, he organized his thoughts while allowing everyone to bow their heads in prayer. "God, it is with great sadness that we, your loyal servants do pass unto you the soul of Faylin McAlister, mother to Olivia, wife to Steven. May your wisdom and grace bring her guidance as she enters your kingdom. Please bless Steven in his hour of need as he comes to terms with her death. May you grant him courage to forge ahead with his life and career and the wisdom to know that wherever she now is, Faylin will always be with him in spirit. We pray that you deliver us from doubt and worry. Bring us here today into your heart as we farewell or dearly departed friend. In your name, Amen."

The Chaplain looked up at the large group that were in attendance. "If you wish to say a few quiet words to Faylin before we return her body to the cosmos from which it came, you may do so at any time. Also, if any of you need to talk, or just want a friendly shoulder, both myself and the counseling team are available to talk. Thank you all for coming."

Stepping from the podium, he came before Steven. "I'm sorry for your loss my son. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." With that, and a friendly squeeze on his shoulder, he walked to a seat off to the side, to allow everyone to pay their respects.

Paulo again stayed near the back. Not crying, not happy remembering the good times. Would probably be confused with a Vulcan if he still didn't have a boyish look.

Branwen walked forward and quietly stood before the coffin for a few seconds. Then she bowed her head in silent prayer. ~Thank you, for what you did for me.~ She thought. ~May you find peace in heaven.~

Swallowing back a tear Bran moved on.

Steven stood up and straightened his dress jacket. The ribbons and medals won in past battles gleaned upon his chest as he awaited the last part of the funeral. He didn't know if the other attendees were standing and he didn't really care. The only thing that mattered was Faylin and what she thought of him in his dress uniform. She had never had the chance to see him dressed up like this. And now wouldn't get the chance.

As the funeral service wound down and people left to go about their business, or went to pay their respects to her coffin, Steven walked up to the Chaplain. "Would it be okay if I play her favorite song?"

"Yes, my son. I think she'd like that."

Steven nodded his thanks, before calling out, "Computer, play music.

Etta James, At Last."

Paulo set the rose down on the chair before turning and leaving. Never saying a word.

As her song played through the speakers, Steven placed his left hand over his heart, his wedding band gleaming in the lights of the Chapel and stood silently, letting the tears flow as the music filled him with her love. He didn't care if anyone saw. He loved her, and nothing could put a damper on that. Not now. Not ever.

Retribution Series

"Hellish Beginnings"

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister
Death/Devil/Darkness/Destruction

Location: Devil's Padd

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

"Do I look okay?" His lack of vanity forced Darkness to raise a very suspicious eyebrow.

He gave a cursory glance up and down to the Devil's appearance and just simply shook his head back and forth.

"Personally, and please don't set me on fire for this comment. I believe a smoking jacket is a little much...."

"It's a nice jacket! She'll like it." Dev retorted.

"It gives you a pompous air Dev." Destruction cut his comment in.

"Oh, and that comment coming from you? Mister fashion plate." The Devil smirked at Destruction's appearance. This week, he fancied the ancient urban look. Large American Football jersey, denoting a team called the Steelers, large pants, and some very loud yellow tennis shoes. The outfit was completed by a baseball cap turned backwards and paisley boxers peeking out from the jeans that were sagging off of his already bony ass.

"Like you blend." Destruction stated simply, walking over to the poker table and turning the chair outwards, sitting on it backwards.

Darkness just shook his head once more, leading himself over to the table and taking his normal stance.

The Devil cleared his throat. "I have to warn you guys...that when she comes...this place will be transformed into her own personal hell.

So, be prepared, I don't know what she'll think is bad enough for hell."

"A bunch of naked marines running around sporting their big guns?"

Destruction grinned.

"Uh, no. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be considered hell for McAlister." Devil smirked as he took a sip of his beer, complete with a lime wedge.

"Why in all that is holy do people pollute their beer with fruit? It makes no sense to me!"

Darkness glanced sideways at Destruction. "Taste's good?"

"Less filling?" A tongue flashed at Destruction.

"Taste's good." He returned the gesture.

"Wrong brand of beer you morons! Straighten up you too." His head whipped around as he heard the doorbell ring. "She's here."

Death floated down, landing gently right in front of the door as it opened. His arm was wrapped around her waist as she glanced up, she smirked.

"Uh, Devil....she just told me what she considers what her own personal hell would be....I suggest you get the alcohol ready." Death grimaced.

"What could be so bad? Hello Faylin....you look wonderful."

"Bite me." Came the curt reply.

He smiled. "Anytime Faylin...."

Suddenly out of no where, a sound could be heard. Soft at first, it grew louder, causing a look of concern to be etched across the Devil's hardened features.

"What is that?" He mused.

"It's a bird...." Darkness muttered.

Smiling, Death chided in. "It's a plane......"

Faylin rolled her eyes, all to familiar with the sound that she remembered and hated from her childhood. The wizz of blue fur fly through the air, smacking right into Destruction's head and falling to the floor in a mass. Rubbing his head nonchalantly, all five of them turned to the pile that was slowly getting up.

"It's.........." Faylin muttered. "A muppet."

"Information Gathering"

Petty Officer Sean Boston
Materials and Waste Management

Warrant Officer Simone Richardson
Medical Technician

(NPC's written by Stuart)

****

Medical Laboratory
Deck 12

****

"Hey honey," Sean called out as he came to surprise his girlfriend.

"Hey sweetpea," she called back, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

Two weeks of being together had led to her bestowing him with the nickname of 'sweetpea'. He hated it, but let the comment slide. Now wasn't the time to worry about nicknames. Not when duty called. Pulling her mouth to his, he kissed her, letting their tongues intertwine. Reaching down, he slipped his hand into the pocket of his uniform. He'd wanted to do this for ages, but hadn't had a reason to, but now was different. Now it was warranted. They demanded it.

Simone had found the perfect man. Charming, thoughtful, intelligent, loving, gentle, basically she had yet to find a fault in him. Save for him working in Waste Management. He was better than that, and they both knew it. She loved him as much if not more than the last guy, some Ensign from Astrometrics. Couldn't keep his hands off her chest... While working as well. It had been embarrassing, but with Sean, she had the perfect... A hiss filled the air and she slapped her hand at the sharp pain that had just formed on her neck. "What was that? What did you do to..." She started to say.

"Quiet!" He said back.

Simone shut up instantly, her hands dropping to her sides, her posture changed. She straightened up, blinked less and focused all her attention on the man before her.

"Bring up everything you have on Faylin McAlister." he said as he slipped the now empty hypo back into his pocket. It worked, damn, it worked, he thought as he watched her turn to the computer and using her access codes, accessed all the information that was available to her. It wasn't much, but at least it was a start.

Simone loved him, she adored him. She'd do anything he said. He just had to ask it. Her hands flashed over the controls, bringing up medical report after medical report onto the screen. She loved him, she adored him.

"Copy everything to this isolinear chip." he commanded, handing her the chip.

Yes, she'd copy it. Simone loves Sean. Simone adores Sean. Reaching for the chip, she inserted it into the machine and began copying it all.

Sean was delighted at how easy it had been. Just the right mixture of chemicals, a little added spice and wham, the perfect control. And from what he had been told, it was totally undetectable. They wanted everything that he could get, and he wasn't about to disappoint them. Not if it meant he could climb in the ranks. "Is there anyone close to Faylin?" he asked, not expecting a professional like her to have formed any meaningful attachments.

Simone nodded. 'Yes, she got engaged a short time ago." She replied as she extracted the chip and handed it to him.

Sean coughed. "Engaged?" Had the best in the business slipped up? Cuase it sure seemed so. He was definitely going to be moving up the ladder for this. "Show me a picture of the man she was engaged to." He asked.

Simone's hands flew over the controls. Basic records were available for everyone to view, but it was the higher ranks that were able to see more. Department heads, the Second Officer, Executive, they all had ever increasing permissions and access rights. But he only wanted a picture, and that was easily found.

Sean gasped as the picture came up on the screen. The man, a Marine Lieutenant, dressed in his Marine uniform, stood next to several other Marines, all of whom were cropped out of the photo. Simone's doing no doubt. It was as if he had seen a ghost. Surely not, he had to be well into his late Fifties by now. Yet the resemblance was uncanny. "They're so going to give me a promotion for this" he mused.

Simone loved him, adored him. She'd do anything for him.

Sean smiled. "Simone, give me everything you have on this man. Especially any DNA samples you have on record." He handed her the isolinear chip again.

Simone nodded and got to work gathering the information. She loved him and wanted to please him.

Sean looked around as he waited for her to finish her work. The lab looked like every other he had been in, unappealing and full of mindless science. There was nothing of any interest here at all. Turning his thoughts to the woman who had, until recently, been their best asset, he couldn't help but wonder just why they hadn't let him take her out. He had been here, he had the opportunity, yet they had chosen not to.

And now she was dead, of her own volition. Too fearful to try and run. She knew they wouldn't stop tile she was dead, so she beat them at their own game and killed herself. Yet she had left him behind.

Simone finished downloading the data and withdrew the chip from the computer console. "All done my love."

Sean would have to find this widow of Faylin's, this Steven Jonas, or so the screen said. Get closer to him and await the next set of orders. If what he found was verified, he was in for a big promotion. Of that he knew.

Taking the chip from Simone, he slipped it into another pocket and smiled. "It's been fun babe, but I have to go."

Simone frowned. She loved him, adored him, and yet he was leaving.

Turning back to her, he kissed her. "Thanks for the information." he patted the pocket the chip had gone into. "Now, I want you to pickup that scalpel, wait five minutes after I leave, then walk through to the next lab and when the other technicians see you, I want you to slice your throat open. Got that?"

Simone nodded. She adored him, loved him. She wanted to please him. Picking up the scalpel in her hand, she began counting down the five minutes. He wanted her to do this. And she wanted to please him. She would do what he asked. Cause she loved him.

1st Lieutenant Branwen London - Furies Counsellor
Doctor Mathieson

Sickbay

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

"You look tired, Doc." Branwen said when Mathieson came out of Kimberly's office. "Have you rested at all since we came back from the planet?"

"No' enough, 'at's fer sure" the old man grumbled. "Still better than yersel' though. 'Ow're ye keepin' London?"

"Not so bad, Doc, there is in not much pain."

Mathieson's ears were a light reddish tinge, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he mustered the strength for the upcoming conversation.

"Look lass - I know ye hate th' green goo on yer, an' I can't blame ye fer bein' unconfortable with it, but it's th' best dermal treatment fer yer condition we've got. Ye'll 'ave t' make do wiv it fer a few more days."

"I know nothing about it, and it scares me. I can't I heal the old-fashioned way, it has always been good enough. But enough about me, I am really worried about Kimberly and you. You both look very tired and she is irritable. You really should take more rest and look after yourself, it is very important you know."

"'S' nothin a good slug o' sleep won' fix", the doctor offered, making sure the patient didn't try removing any of the gel she objected to.

"An' that Klingon shit they pass off fer coffee's got a caffiene kick that could keep a Horta awake - no worries. 'Ow 'bout some congratulations for yer, though. 'Erd th' Captain hisself dropped by t' badge one on yer! S' got t' make endurin' a day r' two o'

discomfort worth while, eh? Now, are you just as Marine as ol' Baile there? 'E's covered in th' stuff head t' toe and ye don't 'ear a peep o' complaint from 'im."

"Don't you dare come near me with that stuff or I will scream." Branwen said. "I don't want it!"

"Sweet Jaysus! Wot kind o' marine are ye, anyways?" The Englishman's complexion had taken a ruddy complexion and his voice rose to a growl.

"Ye've got two bleedin' choices 'ere London - th' gel an' two weeks o' bedrest, 'r no gel an' four weeks. Seein' how ye're all eager t'

get back t' yer precious battalion, ye can now 'walk th' walk', r'

'talk th' talk'. Wot's it goin' te be then, eh Jarhead? An'

remember, it's me who'll sign ye out o' this ward - no bleedin' wailin t' Doctor Burton fer ye!"

To both their surprise Branwen began to cry hysterically. So far she had shown a few tears and sniffels but now she cried in great heaving sobs, sending off various alarms attached to her body.

"Ye mus' be kiddin' if ye think this'll work, London. I've seen worse." Mathieson's growl was a lie of course - he had never seen anyone have this kind of opinion or reaction to a common procedure.

Making sure Branwen's biosigns were within tolerances, he silenced the audible alarms so as not to disturb the rest of the ward.

"'Course, if yer goin' t' be a complete ass about it, there *is* another procedure we can try. Earth-based medicine... long and really quite painful - I think you'd like it."

It took her over five minutes to calm down enough to answer him. "I... don't ... mind pain, sir. Have a .... high... threshold." She tried to wipe the tears away but her arms were restricted in movement by drips.

"Not this kind - it'd leave yer a droolin' mess fer th' rest o' yer life", the old doctor growled. "Nah - we'd put yer in a coma fer th'

treatment - ye'd wake up in 'bout a week wi' all yer skin as raw as 'amburger, an th' next week after'd be pretty nasty. But if ye can take it..." Mathieson's words trailed off as a question, his eyebrow arched as he waited for the Welshwoman's reaction.

"I can take pain doctor."She challenged him. "It is one thing I can do. I am not a whuz. I will not let you put the green stuff in me and turn me into an alien."

"Well - then ye've got three choices lass" he said with an unkind smile on his face. "One - ye can get covered wi' th' gel. Two - ye can go into a coma fer a week an' wake up red as a lobster wi' a bad case o' the ragin' itches. Three - an' this' ones as fatalistic as it gets", he reached over to the side cart and picked up a padd. "We can drum ye out o' th' Corp fer bein unfit t'serve. Jus' those three - do deviations an' ways fer ye t' wiggle out. Yer choice."

"I need to think about it." She whispered. Bran wished she could have the kindly doctor back that she had come to know and love. She did not know why he changed.

"It's a rampant infection... an alien rampant infection, London", Mathieson offered as he left her side. "Don' be thinkin' too long 'bout it."

"Vespers of the Past"

Ensign Hoda Arles
Security Officer

Hoda's eyes were closed tightly, her lips drawn into a firm line as she poured all her energy into silent prayer. She did not use words when she sought guidance, but images, memories. Words only got in the way, prevented her from hearing. Now, as she knelt with head bowed and tried to calm the worries she had about her first assignment, her prayer came in the form of a recollection from years before. It was the day everything changed, and the news had come at Vespers to a woman named Hilary.

*****

The cathedral church of St. Luke and St. Mark had not seen such a crowd since the day, well over a century before, when the Archbishop of Milan had come to bless it. The finely wrought wooden pews, with their engravings of vineyards, farmers, and seraphim, carried a full weight of humble bodies. So many devotees had sought the solace of the mass that the nave overflowed, penitents spilling over into the transept, threatening the chancel screen that separated the monks and nuns from the congregation. The alter stood in the center of the chancel, raised upon an isolated platform.

Carved from white marble, it was one of the few pieces of stonework to be found in the church, and by far the most elaborate in the holy decorations that festooned its sides. The side facing the congregation told the story of the Resurrection. The visual depictions of Christ's release from his earthly shackles to ascend to sit at the right hand of the Father had not received many revisions over the course of centuries. The truth of Redemption spoke clearly apart from time and space.

Hilary nee Hoda had a clear view of Mary's loving gaze and the bowed head of St. Peter as he received Christ's blessing. Still in her novitiate, Hilary's stall was at the near end of the choir, physically marking her as yet a part of the lay congregation, not to be moved closer to the chapels and confessio for the relics until she took her final vows and became a nun of St.

Brigitte at the church of St. Luke and St. Mark.

The readings had come to a close and en masse the nuns and monks rose to their feet to intone the Te Deum. Hilary rose with them, her back finding the support of the misericord, for today's service promised to be long. All of them had been the past few months. The war had drawn closer to their home on Proxima Colony, driving ever greater numbers of parishioners into the pews in search of guidance and reassurance. At the same time, the number of pious bodies in the stalls had diminished as brothers and sisters recalled their first parentage and took leaves to make the journeys home.

"Te Deum laudamus: te Dominum confitemur."

Hilary's voice joined those of her fellows. Most days she threw herself fully into the singing. Her order took a strict vow of silence, one that even the novices had to adhere to. Singing and chanting were the only permitted forms of vocal expression outside of the confessional. The release the hymns provided always made her spirit soar to the clerestory.

"Te aeternum Patrem omnis terra veneratur."

But even into the cloistered halls of the monastery news reports had filtered in. The Federation was at war, and things were not looking bright.

Casualty reports rolled out daily. You could see the toll in the eyes of the congregation, in the errant tears as the priest spoke of love for one's fellow man and the need - now more than ever - to remember the model of the Savior.

"Tibi omnes Angeli; tibi caeli et universae Potestates; Tibi Cherubim et Seraphim incessabili voce proclamant:"

As the rest of the mass progressed, Hilary's mind became increasingly troubled. Her gaze dropped from its habitual home upon the crucifix and sought out the reredo behind the alter. In the bottom left hand corner of the ornately carved wooden screen sat a depiction of the tormented souls in hell, awaiting the End of Days. Time immemorial had dictated the expressions of pain, horror, perversion and depravity that marked each successive countenance. Yet only the last few hundred years dictated the more innately physical characteristics - the large ears and lobes of a Ferengi, the forehead ridges of a Klingon, the distinctive ears and brows of a Romulan - and many besides. Hell was a very mulit-cultural realm. Sometimes, safe inside the cloistered walls, Hilary could forget that the world was spinning out of control in the midst of a catastrophic war. How many people already had found their way to the nether regions? How many more would join them before peace at last could be restored? But then the reredo reminded her that even within the sanctuary of the monastery the world could intrude.

The rest of the day Hilary spent in quiet contemplation, working at her studies. There was nothing to mark it off from any other day, nothing to claim it as special or forewarn Hilary that she would always remember the events that transpired.

After Vespers, the abbot and abbess bid the religious stay. Those few parishioners who had come in for the evening prayer, more devout than their brethren who attended only the Sunday morning convocation, dispersed quietly. Mostly they were older folk who, if life had merely been directed a little differently, would have found a choir stall all their own.

The abbot cleared his throat and looked at the assembled brothers and sisters. "I grieve to bring you sad news today. As many of you know, the Federation has become embroiled in a just war against the Dominion.

Resources and lives are being expended that all might retain their freedom.

In these troubled times, it is incumbent upon all of us to make what sacrifices we can for the betterment of the many, rather than for the privilege of the few. Therefore it has been decided that the monastery of St. Luke and St. Mark shall close. We pray God that with the cessation of hostilities and the restoration of a moral order our doors might once more reopen. Wherever our beloved brothers and sisters wander, we are assured that their hearts journey with God and that their continued prayers and life of service will give aid to all."

The abbot continued for some time, but Hilary was no longer listening. The convent had been her only home for as long as she could remember. Where would she go? What would she do? She had devoted herself to a life with God.

Now she was being told that there was no room at His table.

When it was time, Hilary slung her small bag over her shoulder and walked toward the gate from the dormitory. The path took her through the orchard grove. One hand trailed from trunk to trunk in silent goodbye. As she passed the final line, a twig from an overhanging branch caught at her. Tugging free, a single leaf was left behind, pinched by her wimple. Reverently, she slipped the token into her bag, laying it beside her rosary. Novices had precious little need for possessions, but the desire for a piece of home never entirely left the human spirit.

Hoda stepped past the iron gate, discarding her saint's name for the one her mother had given her. Maybe there would be another time, another place in which she could return to her vows. For now, Hoda once more had to learn about life.

Looking back, she watched the abbot direct the religious out. A nun pleaded with him, begging him to let her stay. She had spent her life here, had chosen the community for its retreat from the world. She could not bear to be sent out into it once again, expelled from the paradise it had provided her soul. The abbot, though sorrowful, stood firm, pointing to the thoroughfare that led into the heart of the city. A monk came up and, with gentle compassion, placed an arm around the nun's shoulders as she covered her face with both her hands. Together, they made their way out into the world.

In te, Domine, speravi: non confundar in aeternum.

*****

Hoda opened her eyes and breathed deeply. At the time, she had been scared, terrified even, to be out in the world without the safety of her home. Now, she found that same nervous energy coursing through her veins, but much of the fear had abated. She felt excitement, enthusiasm, and a thirst for experiences she never could have had even five years ago.

"Combat Readiness"

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence

The young Indian woman watched Saul expectantly, shivers of excitement and anticipation running up and down her spine. He was awfully close now, his body towering over hers. His presence was almost overwhelming, and she tried to steady herself, to brace against him. Presently he reached for her, his hands reaching for her breasts. Lali Indrakshi's lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes, expecting his warm touch...

"Congratulation, cadet." Saul told the young woman standing at tight attention, as he attached the Presidential Unit Citation to her uniform. She shook his hand - how lucky she was! While most of the cadets in her year are battling back home for phony honors like 'The Starfleet Academy chessmaster award', she already had no less than four very real medals and ribbons. Her dark lips broadened with a cheerful smile as 'Lieutenant Saul' went onward, to grant the ribbons to the two other cadets.

Most of the other intelligence personnel were, naturally, more restrained in their reaction.

"All right." Saul began, once everyone got their proper decoration. "We all earned it. Fair and square. Intelligence gathered and processed by the department was crucial to the success of the battle. Many Starfleet officers and others are alive today because we knew a little more about the triad's weapons, tactics and deployment than we knew four months ago. Also, information gathered on ch'Rihan before and after the battle will prove priceless in the years to come. I think that's worth more than a couple of metal ribbons; That's why I wouldn't mind getting a couple more."

Another hushed chuckle.

"But it wasn't without a price." Saul proceeded, stepping to sit on a nearby table. The black collared men and women began to gather chairs, knowing what will come next - the unofficial part of the mission debriefing. It was always the most interesting part.

"At this point, I was also supposed to hand out promotions. But the two people who earned them are... unavailable. Lieutenant Raynor is missing in action, presumed dead; And Lieutenant Eve has suffered severe trauma, which I'll addressed in a moment, and she's incapacitated. You'll be glad to hear that Ensign Nin is out of intensive care, but he's also going to recover for a long period and he'll transfer off the Galaxy soon. We may have some overall personnel rotation, the details aren't fleshed yet."

Actually, details were pretty fleshed out, but Saul didn't speak with Ensigns Shtazai and Dupont yet. both will be transferring off the Galaxy on DS5 as well. Dupont was probably going to be attached to the marines, while Shtazai will get the promotion he expected for so long and become technical officer of a listening outpost. Saul didn't like the idea of BUPERS stripping out his winning team, but he was going to get a very experienced officer in Dupont's place, and Ella assured him that she'll borrow him one of her men to take Boris' place until Eve recovers.

Ensign Novitz raised his hand. Sau gestured at him.

"Saul, what's the story with Eve? We've heard rumors--"

"Let's not work on rumors." Saul interjected. "Most of you have a faint idea on Eve's background; I don't see it as classified information in the department level, but the woman do have the right to decide who she wants to know and who she doesn't. At any rate, what you do need to know is that until recently she had no recollection of her childhood memories, and that the said childhood took place during the 18th. century, Earth calender."

Hushed murmurs began to fill the hall. Obviously, that specific detail was unknown to the mass majority of the department.

"Following combat trauma, her memories surfaced." Saul proceeded, "BUT her recent memories vanished. In short, when she woke up at sickbay, she claimed that she was an 18th. century teen."

"Jesus Christ." murmured Ensign Dupont.

"Tell him I said 'Mazal Tov'." Saul retorted; Christmas WAS up and coming, and the Galaxy already entered Widdlestein alert.

"So what are we going to do with her?" asked Petty Officer Stuart.

"Simple. She does pose a security hazard at the moment. As far as I know, maybe the guys who kidnapped her planted some control device in her mind, and she's actively being used to collect data on us as we speak. Nonetheless, she's a friend and not a foe unless proven otherwise. So what we're going to do is this :

First, we're going to make a rotation among the intelligence crew. Every day, a different intelligence crewman will be responsible for escorting Valentina wherever she wants to go. You guys know her, and you WILL be friendly toward her. You'll also be carrying concealed weapons set to maximum stun, but there's an emphasis on concealed. As far as Valentina - that's the name she goes by - is aware, she's only being helped around because we don't want her to wander around this huge future miracle alone. She needs not suspect a thing.

Her security clearance is now reduced to that of a civilian, and I ask no one to speak with her on classified professional subjects until further notice."

Until now, Lali kept quiet, but she decided to try and make a question herself. She exchanged nervous glances with the other two cadets, then raised her hand.

"Is she aware of what happened to her? Where she came from?"

"Telling her about her true nature is going to be tricky. I don't have any problem with her knowing, but we'll do that incrementally. The last thing i want is my technical officer committing suicide because her body is crawling with 'machines'. I'm probably going to consult with a counsellor I trust about it. Questions?"

There were none.

"All right. Second and final subject in order. I think you all know by now that the Galaxy's JAG officer died recently. I'm talking about Faylin McAlister."

There were nods. The funeral was scheduled in thirty minutes, and a ship-wide notice was sent.

"This death was preceded by the death of her daughter. A death which we were hinted of. We intercepted a message, suggesting that this may happen. Passed it to security. And yet, the MURDER took place. We had an assassin on board, gentlemen, and may still have."

Saul licked his lower lip. "And that is unacceptable. From this moment onward, this department's second highest priority after gathering intelligence on the Triad is to investigate Lieutenant McAlister's death and flush out whoever is responsible. I intend to confer with the Captain and with Commander Corgan, and then I'll come to you with more concrete plans. In the mean time, tighten broadcast monitoring, and scoop for every hint and lead on this investigation. I would love to let you all relax for a bit while we're at DS5, but we can't When we find whoever is responsible, we can all gut them together for stealing out vacation - and a dear fellow officer."

The meeting was over soon, and every intelligence officer went on their respective way. Only Lali remained, pretending to stall by some console.

"Err... Saul?" She asked when everyone vanished.

Saul seemed to awaken from a frozen slumber. "Oh?"

"She was someone important, right?"

"Who?"

"This Faylin. To you."

Saul debated on how to react. He didn't expect anyone to go forward with such question, let alone the light-hearted Indian cadet. Finally, he decided a lie was unwarranted.

"She used to be. She's dead now."

Lali reached for her new medal. It spoke of bravery, and she thought that her commander needed as much bravery as he could get right now. She took a dauntless step forward, and gave him a hug.

She missed the many expressions crossing Saul's face. Eventually, one remained - an accepting smile.

"Lali." He whispered gently. "Thank you. I appreciate it. But we don't want cadets Lennem and R'pok to come in here and join for a group hug."

Lali just giggled nervously, and rushed on her way.

"Happiness" (whether you like it or not)

Tae'ben, engineering npc
Samantha Widdlestein, apc

music soundtrack: "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas"

****

USS Galaxy
Near Engineering

Tae'ben thought that had been through a lot lately.

He had defected, been targeted for either arrest (or worse) by his own father, had been shoved with indignity into a over-sized jar for several hours, his home world had been invaded, the ship had nearly been blown to bits where he'd been tossed around like a suspect in a Tal'Shiar investigation, and he had somehow been drawn into the middle of a power-play between his criminal protector and a scary Starfleet intelligence officer.

He'd definitely been through a lot so he felt that his reaction was understandable.

"Why you ... you, FOUL-MOUTHED HARPY!" Tae'ben practically screamed.

"Harpy? HARPY?!" Samantha screamed back, stepping forward in preparation to lunge at him with one of her Hirogen stilettos if needed. "YOU POMPOUS POINTY-EARED ASSHO ..."

"DO YOU KNOW WHO ..." He began before realizing that the girl probably didn't know who his father was, nor would she care.

Tae'ben tried taking a deep breath. Vulcans preached all of this nonsense about meditation and centering yourself, maybe they had a point.

"Get out of my way, child," The teenager said. "I repeat, I do not have time for this nonsense."

"Child?" Samantha squeaked. "Child?"

Sam's face, which was already a faint flush of pink, started to darken and her fists tightened at her side. Her eyes managed to both narrow and scald and in total she had all the earmarks of a little volcano about to erupt.

Unfortunately, Tae'ben had never seen the devastating effects of volcanic eruption and was therefore quite lacking in the appropriate reaction.

"Take that back," Sam said with deadly calm.

"What?"

The stiletto appeared in her hand. ""I'm not a child. I'm sixteen.

Take it back."

Tae'ben's eyes widened. "You are deranged."

"I," Samantha began. "am not deranged. *I* am the ship's morale officer and it is my duty to see the good people of this ship in happy health and YOU are getting in my way! I've had a very rough time lately .."

"YOU'VE had rough time?" The Romulan snorted.

"Nearly blown to bits," Sam continued. "YET again. Arms covered of Red Rover bruises, confined for HOURS upon end in a class room, hounded by therapists ..."

"What is a Red Rover?" Tae'ben asked.

" ... and now I'm being told 'no' by some pimply-faced Romulan with delusions of grandeur ..."

"I am NOT pimply-faced!"

"...that he is too high and mighty for my kind intervention! I DON'T THINK SO, BUDDY!" Samantha snarled. "I'm here to bring happiness and joy back to this lifeless bucket of bolts and if I have to do it at knife point then so be it. NOW, put it on or prepare to become a Romulan pin cushion!"

Tae'ben felt his shoulders slump. He didn't want to wear it but he also didn't want to find out how skilled the girl was with her knife.

And mostly, he just wanted her to shut up.

Tae'ben sighed. There was just no way to get out of this with any dignity.

"Can I wear one without ... sparkles?" He asked finally in defeat.

Sam was instantly all smiles. She started to rummage through her bag of buttons and sashes. "Of course. How about one with tassels?"

Retribution Series

"Hellish Endings, Heavenly Beginnings"

Lt. JG Faylin McAlister

Location: Devil's Pad

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

"My mansion!" The Devil whined as the opulent mansion was transforming right before his eyes to resemble.....a backstage, main stage, and a seating area.

Darkness just giggled. "Oh...this is rich."

The blue pile of fur rose and straightened himself out. The predominate nose waggled somewhat as Darkness flicked it for his own personal amusement.

"HEY!" The blue mass of fur bellowed and shot him a look before running off to locate the green frog.

"Faylin....." The Devil groaned.

"What?" Her innocent eyes shot wide. "This is my version of hell Devil."

"So I gathered. Well, let's make the most of it and ignore them....maybe they'll go away."

A pig with blond hair shot around the corner. "Not bloody likely Devil!" Her voice was flirty, causing the Devil to roll his eyes and Death to just laugh.

"Not your type I take it?" Death questioned.

"Not exactly." The devil retorted.

He sighed, sitting down in defeat at a wooden table that was once his prized poker table. "Cards anyone?"

"Sure.." Faylin stated. The rest of the group sat down at the table, before a rather large rat offered them some beverages.

"What is it?" Darkness muttered as he held up the blue liquid that was foaming over the glass.

"Don't ask me...the scientist and his assistant concocted these for you. I think it's blueberry punch." The rat stated in a defiant manner before marching off. A 'mee mee meeeee' could be heard from the direction the rate went off followed by a rather short explosion.

"Blue....that'll run right through me." Dark muttered yet again.

"Try it Darkness...what have you got to loose?" Faylin questioned.

Shrugging, he took the glass to his lips, taking a sip. A moment later, a blue liquid pooled underneath him.

"Wow, you weren't kidding." McAlister spoke with widened eyes.

"I just had the floor buffed." The devil whined.

Shaking his head rather amused at the whole scenario, Destruction dealt out the cards.

"Got any twos?" The devil asked Faylin.

"What? I thought we were playing poker?" She asked in amazement.

"I have the sudden urge for something simpler."

"Go fish." Faylin stated with a giggle.

"WOMAN WOMAN WOMAN!!!"

Her eyes grew wide. "What the hell? Aw, no...not him!" Immediately, she darted up onto the table as the furry orange monstrosity came ripping around the corner, still chanting as he attempted several

times to jump up on the table. "Guys...come on here!!!! Help me

out!" She shrieked as she lifted one foot, then the other in an attempt to get away from the animal.

All four, would have loved to help her out, yet they were so busy laughing they couldn't.

Destruction's face sobered. "I just wet myself."

At that statement, everyone else except Faylin burst into another round of boisterous laughter.

Giving a good kick to the animal, the orange think smirked and walked off. Glancing to the left and right, Faylin crawled off the table and sat down in her spot. "I'm hungry..."

With nothing more being said, a set of double doors flew open with a chicken squawking. The bird jumped up on the much used security table, scattered the cards with it's claws and darted off. A cleaver flew out the double doors next, flew through the air, and with a slice, cut off Darkness's head.

"OW!" He moaned. Shaking his torso, a mist appeared, forming his head. "That stung."

"Oh my gods...." Death chuckled as a portly muppet pushed the doors open, yelling something in Sweedish and about a "eerrrrreeee, chicky chicky chicky!"

He stopped short at the table, looked at Faylin with widened eyes, and spoke. "Chicky?"

She just raised her index finger and pointed in the direction that the chicken went.

A moment later, a rather large moose came walking up to Faylin, forcing her to look at his nose which was dripping in something brown.

'What the heck?'

Once again, the foreign chef made an appearance, bowed low, and swept a hand at the animal. In a thick accent, he spoke. "Chocolate mouse?"

Faylin shook her head. "Thank you...but no."

Blinking several times in utter amazement, McAlister looked at the Devil. Knitting her eyebrows, an odd sensation came over her as Death's pager went off. She was starting to become transparent.

He glanced down, looked at the message, and smirked. "Faylin.....time to go........Heaven is calling......................."

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