"The Unthinkable" Part One

Chief Petty Officer Berilyn Suum-Arvelion
Transporter Operator
USS Galaxy- Currently on leave

And a few NPCs

==========================================
(Tellerite Freighter- The Day Before Arriving on Scene)

Comically (though perhaps not incorrectly) referred to as 'the rust bucket' by it's crew, the Tellerite freighter formally known as the 'Streaking Star', strained through space at warp speeds with all the grace of a drunken and pr egnant hippo in heat. Although all it's security and safety inspections were up to date, from the outside looking in it certainly seemed like a ship held together with shoe-strings.

The inside was another story all together. Although it wasn't large, the inhabited sections of the 'Streaking Star' were well kempt. There were no exposed wires, ruptured conduits spewing out scolding steam, sparking computer consoles, or any of the other 'hazards of the job' one might expect to find on a budget transport line. The crew took a bit of pride in the way they presented themselves. There was even a commons area on the small passenger deck where they could mingle with the other souls along the trail less traveled.

The first twenty-six hour cycle passed rather quickly, almost at the speed of a blur. Between having one's cargo cataloged and the obligatory security checks, waiting at the station for the ship while trying to keep a baby entertained, replying to the hale storm of messages coming for her from For'kel's overly eager parents (the mother in law didn't look a day older than 'she' was, which was kind of disconcerting stupid long-lived in-laws. So much for the sarcastic hope of being free upon their demise, eh?), and sending her daily communique to For'kel, she hadn't exactly had a lot of time to sleep, eat, or do much else for that matter.

She did have a feeling that something was different though, which was what brought her to the small sickbay that serviced crew and passenger alike. The last time she felt this dizzy without actually 'being' sick...

"Well, it's exactly what you thought ma'am." The doctor who had a gaze about him that made you wonder if he was questioning his career path said, a polite smile following.

Berilyn greeted that knowledge with a mixture of astonishment and irrational fear... damned hormones. "You mean...?"

He just nodded.

"How bad is it?" Yeah, it seemed like a very stupid way of phrasing that particular question, but she was on a strange freighter heading for an alien world with overbearing in-laws, a baby that still required constant care, and too many light-years away from her husband or anything familiar... she simply couldn't 'take' this right now.

"Twins."

She didn't need to ask when the conception was, she still remembered 'that' day very clearly... although somewhat less fondly 'now'. "I'm going to kill him."

"Hmm, lucky man he is." The doctor made a cheap wisecrack before heading for the converted closet laughingly called his office.

Berilyn 'hmphed', taking offense to the rather curt manner the supposed professional demonstrated, and briskly walked for the door. Her sneer evolved into a reluctant smile, followed by a long moment of crying when she reached her cabin. That didn't last long though, there mercifully short period dissipating as she thought of much happier things. It was much the same pattern as with Koren... long periods of being 'normal' or even happier than normal followed by intermittent periods of really intense emotional rollercoasters.

When she finally did fall asleep, it was to sweet dreams about the prospects that lay ahead. If only she had some idea...

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

The morning went as it normally did, rather uneventfully. They were still a few hours from the border, and even longer from the actual planet. Koren had eaten and was now napping comfortably on the small love seat that took up an entire bulkhead of the cabin. She'd made one last quick tally of the bags she brought with her to make sure everything was where it should be before showering and changing clothing, opting to arrive in full civilian attire. She went with 'comfortable elegance' or 'formal simplicity' or whatever the hell combination of words you wanted to throw together to describe a white (replicated) cashmere wrap-around tunic and black slacks. With that infamous 'mother to be' smile plastered to her face, she opened up the computer on the night stand, opting to record a letter.

"My adoring husband,

I hope you're doing well, and that for the sake of your health and continued well being you left my plate collection well enough alone. I don't know when you'll get this message, but I want you to know we'll be arriving in orbit by the end of the day. Your mother and father have graciously offered to pick us up at dock, despite my staunchest reminders it wasn't necessarily. I see where you get that stubbornness from.

I should probably be going, but I just wanted to send one last message before your children and I disembarked." She smiled even more brightly as she said it, unable to suppress a giggle. It was just hilarious knowing it would probably take the guy three or four run throughs before he actually 'got' what she was saying. It would probably be a good idea to make it a 'little' more clearer. "You may want to start looking into names my beloved... we'll have need for two new ones far sooner than you might think.

Best regards my love."

She'd barely had time to hit 'send' when the ship rattled in a way drastically different from the normal shimmers and 'thunks' inherent in this kind of ship at high-warp. Instinctually she leapt to her feet and headed over to the baby, whom following his own instinct and woken up at the startling shake and began crying. She did her best to rock and shush him down, but another shock ruined whatever modicum of progress she'd managed to make. "What the hell is that?"

Just in time to answer her question, the door to the cabin opened revealing a rather irate, paranoid looking Bolian in uniform. "Ms. Suum, all passengers are being asked to evacuate to the escape pods, please come with me, quickly!"

"What's going on?" She asked, cradling Koren close as she was lead down the corridor.

"We're being attacked!" The crewmember stammered, stopping only briefly to get another couple, a Bajoran woman and a Denobulan man, from their cabin and ushering them forward again.

"Attacked by who?!" The Denobulan man demanded.

"Syndicate ships." The Bolian replied.

Pirates were bad enough, but modern piracy was far worse than the almost romantic notions the criminal profession carried with it on Earth's oceans centuries ago. In those ancient stories, pirates boarded wealthy ships, took what they wanted, and so long as you posed no danger or resistance to them, they then normally let you go free 'unless' you came across a particularly blood-thirsty one. In modern day piracy, given the numerous security systems in place, the only real way to guarantee successfully making off with a cargo was to kill everyone aboard. The Syndicate was known to be particularly thorough and blood-thirsty in that area.

What happened next was something Bery would regret for the remainder of her life. Had this been the Galaxy, she would have gladly run off to the nearest weapons locker and defended the ship to her utmost. This was a civilian ship though, there were no weapons, and the life of her child was as always paramount. Ergo when she heard the tell tale high-pitched whine of a transporter down the next turn, she immediately dashed off as quickly and quietly as she could, shutting out the sound of particle weapons fire in the background. There was screaming for a brief moment, followed by the sounds of a rather boisterous male.

They probably figured the escape pods would be the first place people ran to. It made perfect sense, the idea being that if you launched escape pods the Orions might be more concerned with chasing down the transport and it's cargo than coming after materially empty escape pods, each one of which was equipped with emergency beacons that were destined to bring about help of some kind. Unfortunately survivors meant witnesses, meaning you were either sold into slavery if they thought your mind could be wiped and your price would warrant that kind of investment, or you were killed as cheaply as possible. You know, whatever was most economical.

"Wh-what's going on?" A young Betazoid woman asked, able to see quite clearly the fear everyone seemed to be feeling. Behind her blue dress was a young girl, staying behind her as if she alone could take on the world.

Bery covered the woman's mouth before she could say anything further, and practically shoved her into her quarters, child included. She'd have to forgive her for being harsh, this 'was' an emergency situation after all.

One of the Trill's slender fingers instantly jetted out to lock the now closing door. It wouldn't last long, but 'anything' to slow down the Orions was worth it. "We're being boarded by pirates. I need you to stay as quiet as possible, and do 'exactly' as I tell you. Understand?"

The Betazoid nodded, her child, be it out of fear obedience, remained absolutely quiet.

"Do you have a communication's terminal?"

The other woman nodded, pointing towards her bed. The console sat on a nearby desk, apparently unused.

Berilyn quickly typed out an emergency message. It was simple if expedient, saying they were being boarded by Orions and providing their coordinates and her service number and rank in an effort to authenticate the message. With any luck, the message would find someone's ears before the pirates found a way to cut it off. Setting it to repeat automatically, she then quickly disconnected the connection to the ship's comm systems... they were probably already being tracked down now that the message was sent, and she didn't want them to be able to disable it.

"Now what?" The Betazoid asked, holding her daughter close.

"Now we have to get the hell out of here. We should probably..."

Before Berilyn could finish though, there was a loud thud at the door, followed by some swears in Nausican. "BAAAAAN!" The stupid bastard had probably walked right into the locked door, too.

"There's a vent behind the sofa..." the now hyperventilating and panicking Betazoid offered.

That would do. Both the women were thin enough to fit through the opening between the atmospheric generator and it's maintenance space, which inevitably lead to a jeffries tube. She gave Koren to the stranger, pulled the sofa out (practically tossing it to the other side of the room as she did), and pulled out the vent covering. "Quickly, move!"

The child went first, followed by the woman, and Berilyn brought up the rear, keeping Koren closed to her. They moved quickly, scurrying like rats through the bowels of the ship, and none too soon. Within a few minutes, their would be assailants had phasered through the doors of the quarters.

She had no idea where they were going, neither of them did, but Berilyn had a good grounding in engineering that went beyond just the very basics they taught you in boot camp. You'd be surprised what you learned about power, computer, and sensor systems in the course of being trained as a transporter technician. She followed the path of a primary distribution conduit, before deciding someplace as crucial as engineering would probably be swarming with boarding parties and thus not the most advisable place to be.

When they came across one of the 8.5 by 11 inch LCARS screens common place in the engineering spaces of any given starship, Berilyn took the moment to not only identify where they were, but to peruse the general blueprints of the ship. As fate would have it, they were right underneath a cargo bay. "Bingo." The Betazoid woman whispered back.

"Bingo? That's the luggage storage department...?"

"Yeah, but it has a transporter system." Bery looked over her shoulder. "As a safety precaution, even cargo transporters are capable of transporting people in the right hands, it's just that they're far from optimized for that purpose." Bery gave a small grin. "Come on."

They emerged in the empty cargo bay. The room was laden with luggage all over the floor, the product of the ship sustaining so many hits. Nobody was around, after all the Cargo bay was hardly considered a place for an escape to occur, and it was of incredibly low priority to the pirates. Anything that was there would be there once the ship was theirs, people who were afraid for their lives didn't stop to pick up baggage, etcetera, etcetera.

Berilyn moved quickly, not wanting to risk being found out. She immediately had the computer lock the doors, activated the console for the cargo transporter, and tied into the internal sensors of the Streaking Star. There were 11 life-forms aboard that matched the recorded bio-signs of passenger and crew, allowing her to identify who their captors were. There were also a good number of missing escape pods, and the Trill found herself praying silently that the disparity in life-forms aboard matched the number of missing escape pods.

The room was so quiet that she could hear the pounding of her heart beat, even above the chirping of the keys as she rapidly set about setting up some kind of plan, doing her best to lock out key systems that remained unprotected, and securing transporter locks on the 'good guys'. Expanding the pattern buffers to their max, she was able to bring all 11 people in... many of them looking very frightened, and at least one of them had visible injuries. They didn't have time for her to take care of that though.

"My name is Chief Petty Officer Berilyn Suum... I'm with Starfleet and I need you all to be quiet and listen." The urgency in her voice, coupled with the power of rank, seemed to do the trick. The confused and displaced crowd did as bade, at least for the moment, giving her the time to state her plan. "We've been boarded by pirates, most likely more interested in this ship and it's cargo than us. I'm going to transport you all directly to the escape pods to be safe... as soon as you materialize in your escape pod, count to ten and initiate the ejection sequence. You can do that by hitting the red, palm sized key opposite the entrance hatch. Once your pod launches, the computer will ask you to designate your course. You will tell the computer to head for the nearest habitable planet. When you all land, take the emergency survival kits located under each seat in the pod, and leave the landing sites. Stay together, and wait for help. Got it?"

Nobody said anything, which was a surprise as back in basic there was always the one wise ass that swore 'well if my ship ever gets boarded, I'll just beam the bad guys into space!' Unfortunately real life didn't work that way... and if the pirates thought for a moment the transport wouldn't be captured, they'd probably destroy it rather than remain occupied with capturing it. Right now, Bery intended to keep them as occupied as possible.

On that note, it was time to go. As everyone slowly began composing themselves for their evacuation, she walked over to the woman she'd rescued from the above decks.

"Thank you for finding us! Thank God for..."

Berilyn didn't want to hear her gratitude, and instead met the woman's words by forcing Koren into her hands. "I need you to listen carefully, and remember 'everything' I'm about to tell you." Even as she spoke, tears welled in Bery's eyes. There was no running from the fact that this could quite conceivably be the last time she ever saw her child. "His name is Koren Arvelion, that's Koren with a 'K'. He's almost one year old, his father is Colonel For'kel Arvelion aboard the Federation starship USS Galaxy. He's a Marine..." Bery yanked the family amulet from around her neck, knowing well that it was probably the best source of identification she had, and laid it upon little Koren's chest. "You 'have' to get him back to my husband, understand? Tell me you understand!"

The woman, in tears herself, nodded fervently.

Berilyn kissed Koren's forehead, murmuring an 'I love you', and caressing his cheeks one last time. "I love you, and your daddy. It'll be okay... you'll see." Bery choked down a deep sob, giving her child an eskimo kiss and speaking more for herself than for him at this point. Once the exchange was done, she went back to the console and dutifully began transporting people to their escape pods.

=====================================================
(Escape Pod 29-A)

The Betazoid woman, her daughter, and Koren materialized inside their designated escape pod. It was cramped, but it was a situation you just had to make due with. The little girl started counting her seconds, as instructed. "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand..." Koren, sensing something wrong, did what babies always had a habit of doing in such circumstances, and started crying.

Unfortunately there was a pair of pirates coming down that corridor. An escape pod had a constantly active two-way system for a reason... it made it virtually impossible even for the most inexperienced person to do something that locked them in the pod without being able to communicate to others in the corridor of the ship. In this instance however, it promised that the pirates were dangerously likely to hear the crying.

"Shhh! Shhh! Please, please not now!" The woman pleaded, placing her hand over the baby's mouth. The baby reacted by crying louder and louder it seemed, urging the woman to shush him more intensely, pressing her hand harder and harder against his tiny face. The baby continued crying, it's wailing turning from something of fright or need for attention to something much more basic... a need to survive. "Mommy! Mommy I think you're hurting him!"

"Shhh!" The Betazoid woman demanded of both of them, pressing harder and harder... until finally she got exactly what she wanted. A total, if unnatural, peace.

At the count of 10, they were away. The pirates, true to their nature, stuck with the transport they thought they could capture.

"My Normal roomate"

Deck 10
Room 101A

Jill Normal was a bright young woman from Pena Blanca New Mexico.

Just an hour out of Albequerque, she grew up in the dusty beauty of the old Spanish-Indian pueblos where life had not changed for thousands of years.

She felt proud of her ability to combine the old world with the new, and felt herself up to any challenge the universe could throw at her.

That is until she got assigned to the USS Galaxy.

Pausing outside her assigned quarters, Jill tried to tell herself the episode with the annoying crewman was just a big mistake.

Nobody could really be that weird......

That is until she stepped inside and barely missed getting skewered by the poison darts that flew from the hidden booby trap.

"What the frazz." she yelped her voice hitting an embarrassingly high pitched girly note.

"Booby trap......." came a low mysterious voice from the darkness on the other side of the room, "Never can tell when....THEY.....will be coming."

Jill peered into the gloom, struggling to make out the shadowy form in the bottom bunk, "Uh hello....Im Jill.....your new roomate I guess.....hey are these things poisonous?"

The shadowy figure didnt stir. "My name......" it began, "....Is CLASSIFIED......I'm a rogue agent form Section 31....Starfleets top secret military hiearchy. I have grown dissatisfied with the corruption at the highest levels and now I roam the stars disguised as a mere Starfleet Ensign haunted by a past I cannot reveal, and hunted by the leathel ninja-assasins whom I helped train personally."

A pause.

"And yes they are deadly poison."

Jill stood for a moment digesting all of that. "Oh.....okay.....mind if I take top bunk?"

The shadow hissed......"The top bunk......." it moaned. "That reminds me of the mission where my father was killed....betrayed by the men he helped lead.......I have sworn vengeance upon the mysterious man who killed him.......in the top bunk."

Jill dropped her duffle into a large chair. "Is everybody on this ship on drugs?" she asked, "What the hell is with all this overy dramatic uber-ninja, blood vengeance, classified past stuff. And why the hell are you surrounded by shadows even with the lights on. I can barely see you."

"Would you like to know?" the mysterious shadowy roomate hissed mysteriously.

"Heck yah."

"I could tell you........but then I would have to kill you to protect the survival of the timeline......I swore to protect it 10,000 years ago when I was cast out of Valhalla by the God Odin and sent to Earth to learn humility."

Another pause and Jill asked, "So you are like a secret-agent Ninja God?"

"Verily mortal."

Jill rolled her eyes and started setting up her photographs on her desk.

Mom and Dad last Christmas.......Jill playing out back with the dog.

The shadow watched her for a moment before asking. "Want to see my Bat'leth collection?"

OOC: Well, why don't we all show a different side to our characters? Unfortunately Cianan's Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde are mixed up.

We all have other sides to us...

Cianan Tierney
Combat Medic
Galaxy

The icy arctic sea bit the rugged shoreline of the Alaskan coast causing a mist of salty water to fly in the air. The spray washed over him, but the soldier didn?t move. While his body was rigid, his thoughts were powerful and turbulent like the sea.

Cianan?s mind focused on meditations taught to him by the Vulcan monks. It was an attempt to clear his mind.

The words of T'Plana-Hath, Matron of Vulcan Philosophy echoed in his mind.

"Logic is the cement of our civilization, with which we ascend from chaos, using reason as our guide."

The Angosian?s eyes were clenched shut forcibly by his own actions. He continued to pray.

"Nothing unreal exists."

His hands were just as tense as his eyes. His fingers dug into the palms, causing indents.

A salty trail traced down his cheek. The mark was not from the ocean spray, but rather an eternal wound cut by a sharp knife.

His sanity was being challenged.

The mark on his left temple said it all ? branded for life as a killer ?the perfect obedient soldier.

It was a curse.

It was the one time Cianan could remember ever truly falling apart. The moment he felt his world fall apart and he retreated inward. When the machine took over and replaced the man. The first death caused by his bare hands. It was quick, just like he was taught?a simple snap. The invisible spark that identifies the fine line between life and death went out. The only emotion Cianan experienced was an almost ironic one ? surprise. He felt surprise for his lack of emotion.

Now the man clawed his way back to existence.

An effervescent chuckle brought him back to reality. Cianan breathed deeply, centering himself and opened his eyes.

He held a cup of water that trembled slightly in his hand. Cianan wasn?t in Alaska, he also wasn?t reliving his turbulent time of questioning his sentience. Cianan wasn?t the perfect soldier, a honed killing machine. He wasn?t on Earth at one of his favorite isolate escapes, but rather the Galaxy, a ship in Starfleet. He was seated in the crew?s lounge, staring out at the stars. His mind had wandered and it went to a dark place. Darkness was almost a daily journey for him. He came to realize, another part of being sentient was to experience the positive and the negative and to continuing living.

The chuckle came from a young ensign whose flirting managed to score him a smile from a more senior crew member. Cianan imagined feeling the emotions in the young ensign. Not happiness for a job well done, but happiness caused by another?s simple action?a smile.

Cianan thought of the Earth clich?, ?God doesn?t give us what we can?t handle.? He thought about it. In many religions, God wasn?t considered a master puppeteer who sat on high pulling our strings, deciding what and when will happen to us.

The Angosian was once told by a Marine chaplain that God?s greatest gift, the greatest act of love, was our free will. Cianan had the free will to accept what happened as history and a mystery of life or to continue life challenging the natural order.

Cianan leaned back in his chair and continued to stare into space, not knowing who or what was smiling back at him.

"Inherent Rights"

With

Adiana Grantham, Executive Administrator
Shin Takashi, Vice Executive Administrator
Jean-Claude Morvant, Security Administrator
Myra Tapping, Finance Administrator
Lauren Corbo, Hollingston Corporate Representative

**
*Colony Corporate Administration, Main Office, Zanthus City, Lambda Vered I*

Jean-Claude watched as she lifted the drinking cup with her ebony hand for a sip. He never liked Adiana, as he found her to be nothing more than a lackey for Corporate. Hollingston could have done better, like Shin perhaps.

*Yes, Shin would have made a much better Exec,* he thought. But it wasn't his place to voice such opinions out loud.

He remembered when Shin came to Lambda Vered I. There was a lot of hoopla about him being a 'closer ', one of those executives that go from corporation to corporation to be part of the shut down process. The last corporation to feel his cold touch of operational death was MetroSoft, a software giant that at one time had a contract with most of the Federation's services. Jean-Claude figured that in this case, the opposite happened which is why he stuck around for so long. Hollingston's 'little' colony had never done better over the past several decades. And several times Adiana was made to look very bad as a result. But she knew that she couldn't fire or have him removed from office. He was too valuable to Corporate.

Adiana's voice took him away from his thoughts. "Have the preparations been made, Mr. Morvant?"

He nodded, then said, "All districts report an adequate number of draftees being prepared to repel any attempt to uproot us by the Federation or anyone else for that matter. I've also spoken to the Chief of Corporate Security and they are sending some assistance our way."

She smiled, then inclined her head at the Representative. "Any instructions from Corporate in regards to our next move?"

Lauren Corbo's stern gaze matched her ice cold white streak of hair that ran down the middle of her head to the back. "Corporate trusts that you can handle matters from here. The task is simple: Protect our interests and inherent rights to be here. The Federation does not dictate our policy." And with that, Lauren looked around the room for reactions. She was met with nods all around...except from Shin Takashi. He had a mildly disapproving look about him. Lauren decided to explore that for herself.

"You disapprove, Mr. Takashi?"

A pause, then: "Mr. Takashi? I believe I've asked you a question. Is there something you would like to share with us?"

Shin looked at his antagonist and replied, "If I had something to say, madam, I would not require your permission or prodding to do so." Truth be told, he actually approved of the plan to assert their autonomy, but didn't want to go into a prolonged dispute with the Federation. He did have aspirations for public office, but wouldn't want an incident here to sully that possibility.

It was at this point that Myra decided it was time to point out their financial situation. "Our gross income is dropping faster than we anticipated. With the freeze in on the Dark Side mining operations, our output is now down to forty-two percent. We are only breaking even because of continued polar and deep water exploitation." She paused to let this sink in, then continued.

"It would be in our best interests financially to be the first to approach whoever the Federation sends here to negotiate our right to remain." She finished her report and waited for a response.

"You make a very good point, Myra," said Adiana after a while. "As I understand it, the Flagship of Starfleet will be escorting the transport convoy. I happen to know someone who's on board that may assist us."

All heads looked to her, waiting for some revelation as to who that person could be. She smiled broadly and shook her head.

"All in good time, boys and girls...all in good time."

"The Unthinkable" Part Two

Colonel For'kel Arvelion- SFMC
Commanding Officer
188th Starfleet Marines Detachment

Junior Tenente Zala Ye'tro
PC-109

Various NPC's

=============================================
(Watch Post 39)

Watch Post 39 as it was known to the powers that be ('the dust bowl' tothose who actually served at the place) was a small Confederate Coast Guardfacility located on the small (and practically unarmed) Federation-Confederacyborder. The Federation, unlike too many powers in the Galaxy, had neverdemonstrated any aggressive tendencies, and the worlds this close to the bordertended to have fairly small populations. Hell, almost all of the colonies in theAlpha Quadrant enclave had small populations, but we were talking prettysmall... as in less than 1,000 colonists per world kind of small. As a result,it was deemed unnecessary to spend the asset of full Armada warships in thearea for such routine duties as law enforcement and customs. As a result, theCoastal Guard's vessels and installations marked the only armed presence onthe Confederate side of the border.

The Watch Post's lovely nick-name came from the fact it was located on a dusty desert world, that although it had a (barely) breathable atmosphere, had very little else going for it. There was no vegetation, no 'life' outside of the base to speak of really, and to top it all off the entire facility was located within a geological depression, as if the damned thing was in a freaking bowl. Winds, often enough gusting or even sustained well into the 100 kph range, kicked up a tremendous amount of red dust as they howled over the open, rippled, mostly flat landscape. Other than the hub which was essentially 'the base' and attached housing and support facilities, only a black-top was visible in the perpetually low-vis situation they had on the world. It was the 'tar mac' for the raider sized cutters that composed the vast majority of the guard. A large elevator would occasionally lift ships up from the machine shops below the surface, or bring them down for routine scheduled maintenance, but other than that and the routine take off or landing of starships, there wasn't anything outside that moved.

Zala came to a stop on the holodeck physical training program. Their particular holodeck had no G-compensators, that is to say although it could raise the level of G's per the program's directions, it couldn't compensate for the relatively high 2-G environment they were located in. It was a minor miracle at all that Zala, who's 5'10 frame weighed about 70 kilograms on Al'Klei'sh, completed the PT regimen at all given the planet's gravitational field weighed her down... she was about 140 out here.

"You look tired."

"I 'feel' tired." She turned back to face the yellow skinned Yaleni that had dared to interrupt her breathing by making her speak. "It's worse than having to run the 5 K with a full damned field pack. Our boat's in ship shape I take it?"

"Gold might have done a number on her, but did you expect anything less?" Evorin smirked as he handed over the applique cataloging the work done on the small vessel. "She's good to go."

Zala huffed at the mention of Gold crew. Each one of the cutters had two crews, silver and gold, allowing the ships to be more flexible in the way they deployed. If it was a short 'run around the solar block' that wouldn't take more than a few hours, you wouldn't need more than the normal 10 to 12 crew. If on the other hand you were heading on a patrol lasting several weeks, you might want to be able to have shift changes, even if it meant 'hot racking' it as the saying went. "One of these days I'm going to have to remind them that it's only polite to put things 'back' the way they were before..."

"Silver crews report to your ships! Repeat silver crews report to your ships, this is not a drill!"

Zala sighed, grabbing her towel as she and her engineer jetted out the door."I thought I was 'done' running for the day."

Two minutes... that was the standard assembly and disembarkation time for a cutter at Watch Post 39. That meant the entire crew had to be aboard, at take-off stations, the ship powered, landing-gear up, and thrusters firing in one-hundred and twenty seconds. Really good crews could be out of the atmosphere by then... but Zala's staff fell just on the north side of 'average'. In either case, with operations being so condensed, you really didn't have time to find out 'why' you were being launched until the greenish skies of the world disappeared into the blackness of space. She didn't even have time to change out of the physical training uniform she was wearing. "Power up all systems, pre-flight checks, landing gear up and thrusters to maximum."

There were affirmative responses, and thumping on the deck plating as the crew assumed their positions. Zala took her seat, and tapped the back of her console. It opened, pulling up the CO's display. All pre-flight sequences checked out, everything was in green. Next issue... find out why the hell they were on their way out anyway. "Pt-109 to OpCon... might help if we knew exactly where we were going."

Whoever responded was obviously used to her bluntness, cause their tone didn't betray the slightest bit of irritation. "We're picking up a distress call on the other side of the border for immediate assistance. Long range scans indicate weapons fire."

"Other side of the border? That's Starfleet's responsi..."

"They don't have any ships in the area. You're to head for the border... pick up any survivors and detain any vessels attempting to run the border. You have no clearance to cross into Federation space as of yet, understand?"

"Acknowledged, 109 out." Zala hit the comm-off button, taking a moment to push some obstructive strands of dark hair from her face. "Full impulse until we clear the planetary planes, then maximum speed straight for the border. The clock is ticking, helm."

"Maximum speed... initiating warp engines in ten seconds, estimated time of arrival is 18 minutes." The Lurenian woman replied.

Zala did her best to lean back in her chair and portray the stoic confidence one expected of a starship commander. In reality though she was as wired as anyone else... and were it not for the soft cushioning of the arm-rests on her chair, she'd probably have broken several nails the way she was clutching to it. Pirates have always been a bit of a problem in the area... the lack of starship presence based on a mutual trust between governments oft meant there were few vessels around to interdict pirates... and with the trading and passenger routes established it made for a very safe, very fertile hunting ground. The time it took to reach the border passed fairly quietly... allowing her to reflect on the number of proposals she sent to her superiors asking for permission to be more aggressive in enforcement of the border regions. She'd even volunteered to set up a trap, but 'noooo'... arming commercial vessels and flagging them in deception was apparently against several regional inter-stellar laws, damned lawyers! Speaking of lawyers, she was going to need one to sue that damned Allison Polkadottir whomever the hell it was... her article in Cosmospolitan magazine was no help at all! She still had split ends... and just because she was on a world with double the gravity, dramatic sand storms, an incredibly harsh environment, out in the middle of no where, and preoccupied with hunting pirates and saving evacuees by 'no' mean meant she didn't want to look her best while doing it!

"We're approaching the border, skip." The helmswoman announced.

"Got them on sensors, ma'am." A rather strange looking, pumpkin colored alien with what looked like gills on it's cheeks, known as a Dacronite, spoke. He was rather tall, nearly 7 feet in height... and might not have been a 'he' persay. Dacronites were hermaphrodites... but his voice definitely had what she considered a masculine blurbing, tonal quality. "The civilian's configuration matches a long-range Federation freighter, model 2300 series. The registry indicates a Tellerite flagged ship. Escape pods have been launched."

"Structural scans indicate she's not going to take much more of a beating, skip." Evorin looked dead serious as he made that determination.

"Get me the Watch Post."

"OpCon on the line."

"Operations Control this is PC-109. We are on scene and requesting permission to cross the border. Acknowledge please."

"PC-109, OpCon... we still haven't gotten clearance from the UFP embassy. Hold your position."

Hold her position? Hold her position?! Did they honestly expect her to sit here and 'watch' two pirate ships blow the hell out of a transport and ransack the escape pods? It was like the fucking infamous Kobyashi Maru scenario they made cadets on Earth go through... okay not 'exactly' alike as she didn't have any immediate danger to her ship or crew, the Raiders would be a challenge but they were usually less well armed and shielded than the CG's cutters... but in any case it was close enough that the similarities were haunting. Doing her best to keep her frustration in check, she took a breath and replied. "OpCon, I don't think you understand the situation. Requesting vessel is under attack and significantly damaged. Escape pods have been launched... please advise."

"PC-109, control understands. We need permission from the Embassy before authorizing a rescue mission. We're in contact with them as we speak."

"Who at the embassy do we need to get permission from?"

"Ambassador Go'nad of Vulcan."

"Can you patch me through to the Ambassador directly?" Zala hoped explaining the situation in person might expedite things further.

"Negative at this time 109, the Ambassador is apparently on leave. His office is trying to track him down." There was a sigh on the other end, the man there apparently as frustrated as Zala was at the situation. "There isn't any one with the legal capacity to make that decision available... I'm sorry."

Damned politicians! This is 'exactly' why people hated bureaucrats! You know what? Fuck that! She'd given them several attempts to make the right decision, and since they couldn't make it correctly, Zala figured it would have to be made for them. The politicians and diplomats and whoever could sort it out later. Angrily she smashed the comm-off button again. "Helm, ahead full. Tactical alert... open me a line to the pirate vessels."

There was an 80-20 chance of success... okay maybe 70% successful, 25% unsuccessful, 5% Q-intervention probability... you know what, if they died she'd make sure everyone's family got a nice fruit basket.

"Line open."

"Unidentified vessel, this is the Confederate Coastal Patrol Cutter 109, you are hereby ordered to power down your systems, surrender your ships, and prepare to be boarded."

No response.

"By the Prophets, how many people are going to make bad decisions today?" Zala growled, pulling up a tactical view on her screen. "ETA?"

"One-minute, 11 seconds... we have a problem though." The Helmswoman looked back again. "One of the Pirate ships is breaking towards the escape pods, and the Freighter is on it's last legs. We won't be able to rescue both."

All because some fucking Vulcan was on vacation? It's not like they really 'took' vacations! They went from sitting and thinking at work to sitting and thinking at home! "How many life signs?"

"Six on the freighter, fourteen in the escape pods."

It was simple then, wasn't it? Fourteen lives for six... she didn't have time to think. The ramifications of this decision would have to be dealt with later. "Put us on the best A-vector you can on the ship heading for the escape pods. Lock every weapon you can on their starboard pylon, fore and aft. We'll have to hope the atmosphere can bounce us off far enough that the seco nd ship is in our firing arc after the maneuver. Prep a transporter lock on the life-signs in the freighter." In the event the impossible happened, and that freighter was in one piece when they pulled up, she wanted to be in a position to take advantage of that luck.

The crew performed their jobs as expected. The cutter dove in a steeper-than-intercept angle, allowing it's dorsal and ventral turrets, full fore-weapons, and most of it's aft-weapons to target the nacelle of the Orion vessel. The barrage of ultra-violet photon charges and phaser beams and pulses was sufficient enough in concentration to punch through it's shields and tear through the nacelle. The ship was no longer pursuing the escape pods, but instead spun uncontrollably, breaking up as the atmosphere crumbled it's metallic hull. The escape pods, on a more controlled descent, would be perfectly fine... and the ship's sharp 'up-turn' allowed the cutter to use the planet's atmosphere to propel it in the general direction of the freighter and the Orion vessel.

Unfortunately, as they all knew would happen, they arrived just in time to see the Freighter explode in a massive fireball. The remaining pirate vessel used the interference of the explosion... and the chaos left behind, to escape.

Zala's heart sank, falling like a rock from the adrenaline produced high the situation had brought to the cold low the empty space and debris field before them gave. In flashing red the last reminance of hope for those aboard the freighter was dashed.

-No life-signs detected.-

"Head for the planet." She cleared her throat, again reminding herself they needed to refocus on the other survivors. "Are there any life-signs on that other Orion ship?"

"I'm detecting four." The Dacronite specialist answered. "There's too much interference to identify them."

"All-right." She stood up, smoothing out her T-shirt. "You and I are going to comb the wreckage... get your recovery gear." She tapped Evorin on the shoulder. "Take charge up here."

He nodded. "We'll start bringing up the survivors in the escape pods."

=============================================================
(The Downed Orion Pirateer)

The two materialized in a silvery flash meters away from their objective.The ship board sensors had determined survivors physically could not exist inover 75% of the formally habitable areas of the ship. They detected four,and the more detailed, closer range scans they were able to take with theirappliques confirmed this. Only four people were still aboard the transport, andin an hour the entire planet would be thoroughly searched. They made theirway to the cargo bay, ironically the section of the ship that survived. Theheavy doors, jammed in their current position, offered just a crucial fewcentimeters of space. Enough to guarantee the survivors were at least gettingair, and that communication was possible.

The planet's surface, at least in this part, was cold enough that Zala could see her breath. Through the openings in the outter-hull, howling wind made it's way through the few open doors in the wreck, cooling the rather over-heated hull rather quickly. The Cargo bay was the only real place someone had a chance of surviving barring a miracle, after all it had been locked down, as pirates were keen to do, so as to protect their haul from each other before they were able to 'fairly' divide the spoils. The inch they were open was caused by the crash bulging one of the doors slightly inward. "This is Tenente Zala Ye'tro of the Coastal Guard. Can anyone hear me?"

As soon as she finished an excited male shouted "Yes, yes we're here!"

Finally, a bit of good news. "Okay, we'll get you out of there in a few minutes. Is anyone hurt?"

"Yes! A woman!" He shouted back, the two rescuers already busy cutting away the doors.

"Describe her!" Zala shouted, her training told her that so long as people felt like progress was being made, they would be calm... and as long as they kept talking, the more they were able to believe progress was being made.

"Blonde hair... umm, fair skin... she's unconscious so I can't tell you what color her eyes are. She's in her late twenties or early thirties... has lots of spots!"

"Is she Trill?"

"No... she's Kriosian."

"Who else is there?"

The man huffed, taking a moment to catch his breath. "An Orion woman, she looks pretty beat up... and a Tellerite!"

====================================================
(USS Galaxy- Several Hours after the crash)

From: Office of Senior Commandant Keral Yes'hu- Confederacy of Allied
Worlds Costal Patrol
To: Colonel For'kel Arvelion- Starfleet Marine Corps, USS Galaxy
Re: Notification of Status for Next of Kin- Koren Arvelion:Berilyn
Suum-Arvelion

Afid Arvelion,

First, please allow me to inform you that we were able to locate yourson, Koren Suum Arvelion, on an escape pod launched from a Telerite freighteroperating proximal to this office's zone of jurisdiction. He is in relativelyexcellent health, and per written instructions will be transferred todesignee, Le'lei Arvelion, as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, it is with great sorrow that I am obliged to inform you that despite a thorough search and rescue mission that was mounted, covering not only the debris of the freighter, but in recovery and accounting of all escape pods and their pre-launch occupants... I regret that despite extensive efforts, we were unable to account for your wife, Berilyn Suum-Arvelion.

I can not imagine the kind of shock and sadness this letter must be greeted with, however it is not, nor should it be construed as a final declaration of status regarding the missing. We will continue to recheck all possibilities until they are exhausted, and you will be notified of any additional evidence that arises. We promise, we will do everything in our power to confirm the status of Ms. Arvelion.

A representative from this office will contact you when our investigation is complete to inform you of the results. Please find enclosed a letter from Junior Tenente Zala Ye'tro, which contains a more thorough report of findings. -Sig:out-

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

Zala took a breath as she composed the letter in her bunk on the PC-109. The computer she was working at had an integrated holo-imager... and somehow she figured it would be best to speak in person rather than send an empty, generic text letter.

From: Junior Tenente Zala Ye'tro
To: Colonel For'kel Arvelion- Starfleet Marine Corps, USS Galaxy
Re: Notification of Status for Next of Kin- Koren Arvelion:Berilyn
Suum-Arvelion

"Afid Arvelion,

My name is Zala Ye'tro, and I was the officer responsible for therecovery mission of the of the 'streaking star'. I'm sure by now you've receivedthe standard reply from operational command, but I wanted to provide a moredetailed report. I didn't know your wife personally, however as part of theinvestigative process we've been conducting interviews with the survivors.Several of these survivors 'did' recall your wife, and unequivocally theirreports of her have lead me to believe that I would have been extraordinarilyblessed to make her acquaintance.

Specifically, you should know that nearly a dozen reports confirm she acted bravely in the face of tragedy, and these same individuals owe their lives to her courage and quick thinking. She managed to commandeer a cargo transporter, and use it to safely transport these survivors to the escape pods in which we found them. We have recently recovered the 'black box', which will undoubtedly contain data which I feel will support this conclusion. I regret to inform you that our current information suggests she was lost aboard the freighter, and I haven't the words to express my condolences, but I wanted you to know that we will continue searching... and if she was killed, she died in the defense of others, as the epiphany of the term hero.

We were able to rescue one very handsome young man, and through the historical archives have identified him as your son, Koren. He's currently aboard, and will be placed on the first transport to Al'Klei'sh where your mother will be waiting. I wish I could bring you better news, but like I said, we will keep searching for as long as we're allowed. I will do my best to guarantee you are informed of any events pertinent to this investigation, and should you wish to contact me directly please feel free to do so. My contact information is included in the attachment provided. I encourage you not to lose hope over the coming days... a Chaplain will be dispatched to you once the investigation is complete.

Buestana, afid

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

Unfortunately if this was a phone call, the speaker would have gotten the voice mail. For'kel was busily training and organizing the 188th for their upcoming deployment, and as lady luck had struck again, didn't have time to check his messages before departing.

"Normal-ness?"

Starring
Ensign Jill Normal.

Starfleet Academy could only prepare you for so much.

It was an infinite universe out there, and therefore the challenges that faced the starry-eyed young graduates were likewise infinite.

Attacked by Romulans?

The Acadmey had a class for that.

Negotiating a treaty with sentient Slime monsters?

There was a 12-part lecture series on that topic.

How to eat raw 'Gach and seem to enjoy it?

Beleive it or not there was a summer elective in the Klingon culinary arts.

But suppose you worked your ass off for four years only to find yourself transferred to a space-going looney bin........

Well too bad kid....sucks to be you.

Currently it sucked to be Jill Normal.

Leaving behind her strange shadowy roomate (Jill couldnt even tell it was male/female or whatever), the young officer had picked up her assignment schedule and trundled off down the endless beige passageways.

Duty as a 'Background Crewmember' (whatever the hell that was) didnt start up until tomorrow, but until that time she had to check in with the Quarter master for supplies.....get her medical checkup......and a number of other fairly standard housekeeping chores.

Figuring that the Med Bay was closest to her current location, Jill took a turn in the passageway and walked into the the Galaxy's sickbay.

The place seemed busy.......over to the side there were two med-techs were arguing about having to draw 40cc of blood while behind one curtain some a Big Burly Marine was weeping about the death of his hamster Chum-Chum.

"People just dont understand how sensitive we Marines really are." he sniffled while a tech handed him a tissue.

Behind another curtain there was a rather loud conversation.....something about witchcraft.......exploding medical tricorders and killing people in cold blood.....

"I'm sorry are you lost?" A nurse stepped in front Jill distracting her from the curtain.

"Um....ah...no." Normal regained her train of thought and handed over her transfer orders. "Ensign Jill Normal.....new crewmember, just need a quick checkup to be put in the system."

The nurse took the PADD and studied it with a puzzled look on her face.

Motioning to one of the techs she showed him the screen, to which he only shrugged confused.

"I'm sorry." she said turning back to Jill, "It says here that you are ordered to check in with Sick Bay for a routine checkup as part of your duty."

Jill waited for a moment and nodded, "Yeah.....thats right."

"Im sorry I dont understand." the nurse said, "So what are you doing here?"

Jill looked around confused. Maybe she was in the wrong sickbay. "Im sorry Ma'am....I thought this was the right spot. Where's the other sickbay?"

The nurse frowned. "No, this is the only sickbay we have....I meant why did you come here?"

"Ummm...for a checkup?"

"Why?"

"Uh...because I was ordered to. Its routine right?"

The nurse gave her a very stupid look. "Of course its routine Ensign, and I know you have orders, I'm looking right at them. But why did you come anyway?"

Jill was having that twilight zone feeling again. "Why did I come? Because I was ordered to."

"So."

"So?"

"Yes....so what. Everybody is required by Starfleet regualtions to see the doctor.....that doesnt mean anybody actually shows up."

"They dont?" Jill asked.

"Of course not." the nurse explained. "Nobody complies with mandatory checkups Why would they?"

"Because they were ordered to."

"What difference does that make? Everybody just gets away with ignoring protocol....or they explode the exam room or something....duh."

Jill gaped for a moment at the lady wondering if this was all a bad dream. "But if you are in starfleet you follow orders.....its just a routine medical exam.....30 minutes....tops."

The nurse gave Jill a disgusted look and handed back the PADD with a huff. "I dont know what kind of cadets they're turning out these days, but we can't have people complying with routine medical exams just because they are 'following orders'."

Jill suddenly didnt feel so good, and was kinda looking forward to seeing a Doctor. She felt for a chair and sat down wearily. "You dont want me to follow orders?"

"Never heard of such a thing." the nurse snipped. Turning to the curtain she called out. "Doctor....I have a patient out her that showed up for her routine exam as ordered.

There was a slight pause before the "What the hell for?" floated from behind the sheet.

"See?" the nurse shrugged. "Even the Doc doesnt know what you are here for."

"Well......I guess I'll just leave then." Jill mumbled and felt her way to the door.

"Fine fine....go. Just remember we'll be sending you strongly worded reminder about missing your mandatory checkup."

"Make me a Witness" Pt 1 of 3

1st Lieutenant Branwen London SFMC Furies Psychologist
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe Chief Engineer

(Set before 'Doctor, Doctor')

***USS Galaxy, Deck 34 corridor 17 C***

"Dhani, please wait up for a second." Breathlessly Branwen came to walk next to her friend. With the rescue interfering they still had not had the chance to talk, but that was not why Branwen was here today. "If you have a second, I have something to ask." She could barely contain her excitement.

Engrossed in the PADD she was reading Dhanishta stopped in her tracks and looked up bemused. Blinking several times she nodded, saved the notes she was making and crossed her arms, tucking the PADD into the crook of her armpit, "Sure what's up?" she asked with a raised eyebrow at Brans 'ants in pants' stance.

"I'm getting married, soon." Branwen grinned. "Dar asked me last night. And I would like you to be one of my two witnesses. You are my best female friend."

Dhanishta dropped the PADD she was holding in shock, "Married?" she repeated staring at Branwen as if she had just told her the Hydran were simply misunderstood! Shaking her head she looked for her PADD, torn between wanting to reclaim it and question Branwen, "Haven't you just met him?" she asked trying to recall how long they had been together, it seemed like just yesterday Bran was floating around on cloud nine proclaiming at the top of her lungs to anyone that would listen that she had found a boyfriend! "I mean that's great," she continued kneeling down to pick it up, "but it just seems so sudden?" she paused and looked up at Bran, "doesn't it?!" she asked frowning pensively.

"We have known each other a few months now. And I don't think its fast, can you imagine, a man interested in me!" She smiled at her friend. "He chose me! And anyways he wants to have sex, and I can't unless we are married. And I really, really love him."

~A few *months*!! Sex!!!! Chose you?..~ "Branwen?" Dhanishta uttered surprised her mind choking over her statement. If the frown didn't indicate her disagreement with what she had said, what she about to tell her friend would be. She paused for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to formulate the best way to put things. Her mouth opened and instantly clammed shut as a crewman passed by. Shaking her head at the woman, much like a mother to an insecure child, she took her friends arm, "I think we need to talk." she stated rather than asked.

Leading Branwen towards the turbo lift she motioned her inside. The confusion that crossed Branwens face revealed a lot to Dhani. This would be a long chat, a personal one and perhaps one that Branwen needed a looooong time ago. "Deck eight." Dhani instructed as the lift doors closed. Turning to Bran she took in a deep breath and smiled as evenly as she could. "Bran? I'm, I'm shocked?" she stammered. Even knowing that they had privacy in the lift didn't help with what she wanted to say. There was a great potential that it would all come out wrong and rather than being a witness to the marriage she would be the only person on the ship not invited!

"First off, before I say anything I want you to know that I am happy for you, really," she emphasized, trying to reassure herself more than she was Branwen. "I think it's great that you have found someone, and?" she trailed off and held up her hands in a gesture of resignation, "Ya know what? I can't, I can't tell you what you want to hear?"

"Sorry?" Bran blinked. "I don't understand? Are you saying you don't want to be a witness?" She asked her friend.

"I can't tell you that I'm happy for you when I think you are making a mistake." she clarified, realizing that sounded better in her head than it did out loud, coupled with the kicked puppy look that Branwen was now displaying it was pretty clear that she had foot in mouth syndrome.

"Eh? Why? He wants me, and we love each other. Why can't you be happy for me?" Bran was too surprised to be angry right now.

"Have you heard yourself Bran?" Dhani asked gripping her arm and escorting her out of the lift and down the corridor, Bran had a habit of running off when she was upset, and she couldn't let her go, not without first making sense and making Bran see some sense too.

"He chose you??" Dhani repeated and questioned at the same time, "you say that as if no one would ever want to be with you?" Dhani's forehead creased to the point that it actually hurt. She had never heard something as ridiculous as that in all her life. How could Bran see herself in that way? What's more is; why had Dhani never noticed how little Branwen saw in herself. And why did it all have to come out now, like this?

"Well... it is kind of true isn't it. They always chose another woman in the end. Saul did, he chose Nara. And that happened to me before. Dar really wants me, he thinks I am beautiful." She smiled. "He is so kind and protective. I am sure that if you get to know him better you will agree with me. He is just so wonderful, Dhani, he really is."

Dhanishta shook her head. "This has nothing to do with him Branwen." she informed her as they reached the door to her quarters. Once more Dhani moved aside letting Bran enter first. She really didn't want to upset her but this was all wrong. "Sit!" she instructed before even calling for the lights.

No one else was in, it was just going to be the two of them, and that suited Dhanishta to the ground. For if this conversation went in the direction she thought it might? she really didn't want Michael or Kala around to hear it.

For some reason Dhanishta felt angry, yet for once she knew why. Glaring slightly at Bran she waited until she found a spot to sit and then bellowed, "Stay!" as she disappeared off into her bedroom.

~Excuse me!~ Bran thought but she was too shocked to do anything but followed the orders Dhani issued. She was like a recruit following her drill sergeant.

Remerging rather sharpish from the bedroom Dhani took a seat opposite Bran and placed the mirror she had concealed on the table. Folding her arms across her chest she just watched Branwens bemused face for a moment without saying anything further.

"What?" Bran asked while looking in the mirror. "What do you want?" She really didn't like looking at herself at all. Her ears were not the same size, one was slightly large. Her teeth were crooked and her hair! Brrrr.

"Oh boy, that's a question isn't it?" Dhani replied cryptically. "What I want is for you to make the right decision. The decision that is right for you Bran, not what best fits the situation." she told her flatly, "And for now, right this moment? I want you to look in that mirror and tell me what you see, cause from where I'm sitting, we have an error in receiving in that department."

"I don't understand what you are doing, Dhani. I really don't understand why you are not happy for me. I am going to be married! Me!" She looked in the mirror and sighed. "Okay I will say what you want to hear, my ears are not the same size, one is too big, my teeth are crooked. My hair impossible and the wrong color and he still wants me! What is wrong with you?" Bran was worried again; Dhani was acting so strange maybe she was finally losing it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dhanishta's face broke in its seriousness and she let out a small chuckle. "Bran, we are doing!" she replied in a softer tone. She cocked her head to the side and took in a shallow breath. "You know what makes me mad Bran? Stupidity. That gets my blood boiling. I also get angry when I'm upset and what's upsetting me now is you." she told her gently.

"You..." she trailed again, wanting to find the best way to express herself. "Branwen you are crazy, do you know that?" she asked rhetorically shaking her head. "Do you know what I see when I look at you, what the rest of universe sees when they look at you?"

"The same?" The young marine said. It had been trailed into her at the very early age that she was stupid and ugly. She had worked very hard to overcome believing that she was stupid, and had succeeded. But the action of men so far had not helped her to overcome the ugly part. It was something she was at peace with; marines were usually not noted for their beauty, so that was perfectly all right.

Dhanishta wanted to thwack her round the head, yet she resisted. After what happened with Kimberly, a simple punch on the arm for her abhorrent use of Klingon insults, the woman had ended up flat on her back. It was there for possible that a sharp whack round the head for being so ridiculous might just take the marines head off. And that really wouldn't do. Dhani paused for a moment, thinking. If Bran was like some other people she knew then just telling her out right that she was incredibly beautiful wouldn't work, she would see the compliment as a 'friend being nice' and there for null and void as a popular opinion. Dhanishta sat back and squinted slightly, "Branwen, does Man'Darr tell you that you're beautiful?"

"Did you Hear the News?"

Being Part I of the END OF ALLISON SAGA

Sometimes....the most horrible of things could start with the simplest of beginings.

Sometimes that which ended in blood tears and heartache could start with love laughter and light.

And sometimes....just sometimes

Sometimes it began with a little drink with an umbrella in it.

"Thats it dearie," the rock-monster guided, taking a tiny sip of her bubbling umbrella drink. "A little to the left if you dont mind."

The electronically modulated voice of 'Mary Poppins'....a Horta in the service of Starfleet could barely be heard above the grinding roar of the whirling power-sander.

Chips of dust, rock, and old silica deposits flew across the room in a cloud of exfoliants as the grim faced beauticians of Madame Fi Fi's Salon worked their best to make her beautiful.

Fi Fi's Salon....located deep in the bowels of the Galaxy was the Federation's largest space-going all-purpose beauty emporium.

Not content merely to cut and style hair, Specialists in all cosmetological disciplines grouped together to snip, cut, file, and paint their way to a more beautiful 'you'.

Need your nails trimmed? No problem.

Want your feathers arranged neater? We have just the person

Warts removed......warts applied.....we go both ways sugar.

We want you to feel beautiful.

Beauty of course was in the eye of the beholder, and since 'Mary' as a Horta had no eyes to speak of, it was more of a judgement call as to what 'pretty' was.

The living rock snuggled down deeper in the padded salon chair, sipping quietly on a rich ferrite smoothie laced with titanium flecks.

She'd be paying for the Titanium later down in the gym, but for now Mary enjoyed the rich crunchy texture they added to the molten iron.

This was the life........

Soft latin music playing in the background.......the tickle of a grinding stone against your hide......and the best darn gossip this side of the Alpha Quadrant.

Mary's roomate Allison may be rather odd of a human being, but at least she did introduce the Horta to the wonders of 'a day at the spa.'

"And so I was saying luv," Mary continued in her translator's programed English accent, "I bloody well understand its a war and all, and you feel the need to not die a virgin.....but one still has to maintain one's profesionalism. Running amok with your pants around your legs just wouldnt do."

The power sander buzzed away, while the beauticians wore studied looks behind thier safety goggles.

It wouldnt do to get one's eye poked out by a flying scrap of the customer's 'skin'.

Bing....the Filipino Beautician shut down the sander for a moment and blew a cloud of dust off Mary's 'back'.

"You so right Dai." she cackled, " You do job now. Save Garaxy. Ruv rong time rater."

"Love long time later...indeed." Mary sniffed. Bing's accent was barely understandable, but the lady was a whiz with a buzzsaw.

Pedicures....manicures.....or powersanding. Bing did it all.

"Its become quite epidemic." Mary said. "One little hint of war and it seems the mariage proposals come out of the proverbial woodwork. This may be my final night....let s make it memorable.....Rubbish I tell you."

"You no like boom boom Dai?" Bing inquired as she lasered off an unsightly pebble.

"Duckie.....My species reproduces one every 30,000 years. Its best we keep our minds on other things."

The whole salon giggled.

Returning to her detailed filing, Bing continued, "You know about marriage thing? Just other day I see same thing. Customer rushing in to marry just to get boom boom." Bing selected a fine iron file and began fine tuning the little rocky crevaces in her customer's skin. "You know brue skinned teacher rady? She date Security Chief Corgan."

"Commander Corgan?" Mary perked up her non-existant ears. The Horta had spent many a night listening to her roomate Allison crying into her pillow over something or other that Corgan did or did not do.

Personally Mary didnt understand the infatuation....thought it unhealthy to be so fixated on such a grumpy man...older man at that.....but she was loyal to her friend. "You're referring to the Andorian who is dating the Commander."

"Yeah yeah......brue skinned person. Anyhow she come in her for trim. Hair cut chop chop.

"Mmmmhmmmm." Mary declined comment. She knew Alli was insanely jealous of Mika. Exotic...Alien.....and the object of Corgan's affection.

Poor little dearie

"Yeah. Anyhow so I cut hair and brue rady all happy see? She all joking and raughing, and I rike.....herro....what you so happy about brue rady?"

"And what was she happy about?" Mary asked taking another sip of her drink.....the ferrite had gotten a bit cold....a mere 1600 degrees now and beginning to thicken up.

Bing paused to warm up Mary's drink....service was everything at Fi Fi's "Anyhow, She say......I happy because I get married now.....can you bereive that......she marry Corgan and make rittle brue skinned babies."

"Married?" Mary sat up straight....or at least as straight as a pile of rocks could sit. "You mean like....married?"

"Sure sure....marry....have sex....brue babies. Boom boom." Bing gestured obscenely with her file...."Rike I always say....its best too......."

Interrupting the gossipy filipino, Mary clattered her way out of the salon chair with an ungraceful THUMP and an anxious apology.

Married!!....sorry but the exfoliation would have to wait......

Rolling quickly out of the salon with a low grating rumble, Mary went off in search of her troubled roomate......

Did Allison know?

Should Mary tell her?

Little did the concerned silicate realize the chain of events that had been set in motion........

OOC: Don't ask. I'm being weird again.

"The Dance"

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara, XO
PO1 Vincent Williams, XO's Yeoman (NPC)

*****
Deck 8
XO's Office

Zero six hundred hours. The dance begins.

"Morning, boss." The gentleman, a tall human with skin the color of chocolate, gracefully rises from his chair and moves around the small desk, intercepting his partner as she strides confidently through the door.

"Morning, Vince," the lady replies automatically. In her right hand she holds a single oversized padd, which she deftly shifts to her left hand before accepting a second padd from her partner. Never breaking the rhythm she glances down at the padd, spinning slightly to the left as she skims the first page of its contents. "What have you got for me?"

"A little appetizer," the gentleman answers, clasping his hands loosely behind his back, matching the lady's spin and following her into the office beyond. "Initial evaluations from Security and Operations on their new batch of personnel."

"Fascinating." The padds slide from her hands as she steps around the desk, hooking a foot on one leg of her chair and pulling it away from the desk so she can lower herself into its comforting embrace. She turns the small desktop console towards her and activates it, watching with only mild interest as the morning synchronization of her messages begins and ends in less than a second.

"Coffee, boss?" The gentleman sweeps an arm outward, indicating the small alcove set into the wall next to the door.

"Please." At his partner's assent the gentleman turns, easily crossing the room in three light steps. Deft fingers tap lightly at the control panel, beginning the light show. Satisfied, he steps away and out of his partner's sight for just a moment. He returns soon enough, sliding back by the alcove to retrieve the twin mugs of steaming hot liquid. The drinks take their usual place on the desk between the pair as the gentleman seats himself in the room's second chair, moving his own pair of padds from under an arm to his lap.

"Yum." Yawning lazily, the lady reaches for her drink, its warmth seeping quickly into her fingers as she wraps them around the mug.

Zero six oh three hours. The dancers change steps.

"So. How was last night?" The lady grins mischievously as she leans back in her chair, cradling the mug in her hands.

The gentleman tries and fails to stifle a laugh as he mirrors her pose, draping one arm lazily around the back of his own chair. "How do you *think* it went, boss?"

The lady echoes her partner's laugh, slowly exhaling into her mug, relishing the feeling of hot steam prickling the skin of her cheeks. "Excellent as always, I assume?"

"Aye."

"You've been dating for what, five months? Time to think about a ring..." The lady winks and snickers, then takes a long drink from her mug.

"Hah! Oops..." The gentleman, momentarily distracted by the thought of his lover in the traditional diaphanous wedding attire of her culture, loses control of the stacked padds on his lap. They clatter loudly to the floor, prompting a burst of raucous laughter from both partners.

"Obey gravity," the lady replies after a long moment has passed between them. "It's the law."

"Oh, gravity; such a harsh mistress." The gentleman places his mug on the desk, then abruptly pauses, scratching his chin in thought. "Hmm...If I deactivate the grav plating in this area...causing these padds to go floating about as they will so I don't have to worry about them falling off my lap...will the new JAG Officer prosecute me for violating the most basic laws of the universe?"

"Hmm...it would be an interesting if slightly unconventional way to make her acquaintance."

"You raise a valid point. Perhaps she can put me on trial for being this devastatingly handsome."

This time the lady cannot help but laugh. "Now I believe you're stretching it a bit far."

"Ah, yes I suppose I am. Sorry about that."

The lady bobs her head once, deliberately taking another sip of her beverage. Then, just when the silence between them has reached the leading edge of uncomfortable she sets the mug down, raking a hand automatically through her fiery red hair. She leans forward, her expression becoming more serious. "So. What's on those padds at your feet, anyway?"

Zero six oh nine hours. The dance returns to its original form.

"Mission data, boss." The gentleman, sensing that his partner wishes to get down to business, alters his demeanor to match hers. Reaching down to retrieve the padds he then slides them across the desk, pointing at each one in turn. "Science report. Cultural report."

"Ahh. I suppose I should get to work, then."

"Then I'll leave you to it. Holler if you need anything."

Zero six eleven hours. The dancers move apart.

The gentleman steps away, returning to his own desk. After all, there is paperwork to be completed, and as he has learned over the years, paperwork does not complete itself. (Unless one is on Beta Lampor Seven, but that is a rare exception as the paperwork of their civilization is actually self aware.) He sighs a contented sigh as he finishes the last of his drink and settles further into the comfortable pattern of morning. Minutes begin to fall off the clock, one after another after another.

"Vince, a moment..."

Zero six seventeen hours. Inevitably, the dance resumes.

The gentleman swings into action, answering the call of his lady. Sliding effortlessly through the door he prepares to reply...

...and stops dead in his tracks.

Zero six eighteen hours. A lamentable misstep.

"Sir? I mean...boss?" Inwardly the gentleman chastises himself; for years now they have danced this dance nearly every morning, and it is only the third time he has slipped up and used the 's' word. But perhaps it is understandable, given the circumstances.

The lady is focused on the padd she clutches tightly in her hands. >From the arrangement of the other padds on the desk, the gentleman can see that it is most likely the padd containing the cultural report. Slowly she looks up, towards her partner, almost as if seeing him for the first time. Her skin is now a pale, deathly white and the slight rings under her eyes are much more pronounced, as if suddenly her body, mind and spirit feel decades older than her mere forty seven years of age.

Zero six nineteen hours. The dancers stumble.

"Boss? Are you okay? You look like..." The gentleman hesitates, wondering if he should continue. "Well, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I believe I have, Vince," Lieutenant Commander Tarin replies, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to meet with the Captain. Soon. Find me a time."

"Right, boss." And with that, Petty Officer First Class Vincent Williams slips away once more, leaving in his wake only silence. Silence and the sudden uneasy feeling that the upcoming mission was not going to end well.

Nineteen minutes they had made it before the lady's heel had broken, before the record had skipped a track and the gentleman had tripped over his partner's foot, disturbing their perfect little routine. Ah well, the two lamented separately as they contemplated what would happen next. There was always tomorrow.

"New Home"

Cmdr. Jaal Jaxom
Strategic Operations

Lt. Mark
Counselor

& an unnamed petty officer

==Deck 6==

"Here you go sir," the operations petty officer showed Jaal his new cabin. He was now switching from temporary quarters to a permanent cabin aboard the USS Galaxy.

"Thanks," Jaal replied as the door swished open to show a completely antiseptic, barren living area. He walked in and inspected his new home.

"Did you need any luggage brought up?" the operations crewman asked.

"No thanks," Jaal replied without looking back.

"No clothes?"

"No."

"No furniture of your own?"

"No."

"No ancient family bladed instruments of destruction?"

"No."

"A collection of martial arts competition trophies maybe?"

"No."

"No collection of enemy energy pistols coaxed from their cold, dead hands?"

Jaal turned around this time and looked the petty officer square in the face, "No! Don't you have anything better to do?" He was starting to get slightly annoyed.

"Sorry sir, it's just that most people coming aboard have more?" the NCO shrugged, "ya know, stuff."

"All my stuff is gone. It got blown up with my ship while we tried to defend DS5. Any more stupid questions?"

'Former ship,' he reminded himself. 'The only baggage I have at the moment is emotional,' Jaal thought wondering if Erastus would reply to his latest message.

"Oh." The petty officer adopted a sheepish look. "Sorry to hear about that."

"So am I," Jaal replied flatly.

"If you need anything else, sir, feel free to let me know."

Jaal nodded and recomposed himself, "Thanks. I'll remember that."

The petty officer finally left to go about his business.

The Trill turned his attention back to the task at hand. Just how in the heck was he going to personalize his new 'space'?

There was absolutely no sign of anyone ever using this cabin before. Jaal frowned as he looked out the window. The stars were going the wrong way. On the Miranda, his cabin had been on the starboard side of the ship. Here on the Galaxy, his cabin was on the port side. He shook his head as he continued to survey the surroundings.

There was nothing but the typical, immaculate, Starfleet issue furnishings. "Well, we're going to have to change that," he told no one in particular.

Next he checked out the bedroom and bath. While in the bedroom he heard the door open and close. He peeked into the living area and saw yet, another familiar face.

"Mark? What are you doing here?" he asked walking out of the bedroom.

The lieutenant counselor smiled back, "Welcome aboard the Galaxy, Commander. Have you heard from Erastus yet?"

Jaal's brow knit with confusion. "How? did you know I hadn't?" he pointed at Mark accusingly.

"I'm a counselor," Mark replied with a smug expression, "It's my job to know what my patients are up to."

"Right," Jaal folded his hands behind his back and walked to the replicator. "So, is this a social or a business visit?"

Mark shrugged, "Whatever you happen to need at the moment, Sir."

"Want anything to drink?" Jaal asked suddenly.

"Only if it's alcoholic," Mark answered.

"I've only got what we can get from the replicator. I'm sure you know I just moved in."

"What about your stash of that fine wine from you family's vineyard?" Mark asked hopefully.

Jaal shook his head. "Sorry, all that went down the tubes with the Carthage. I've got nothing at the moment. At least not until my next leave time." He spread his arms wide showing off the newly assigned cabin. "This represents all I have right now."

Mark looked around obligingly. "Well ya know, it's more than some people have." He looked back to the Trill. "I'm good. Go ahead and get whatever you want."

Jaal wasn't thirsty at the moment. "I'm not thirsty at the moment."

Mark shrugged, "Suit yourself."

"I usually do," Jaal answered adopting Mark's smug attitude.

Mark simply nodded showing a hint of amusement on his face. "I just wanted to let you know you have a familiar face on board in case you want to talk."

Jaal smiled and blinked, "I know, besides you there's Arel, For'kel and Bery. I think I'll be all right. I just need to get used to the new surroundings."

Mark nodded approvingly. "In no time you'll feel more at home," the counselor assured him, "Before you know it you'll be engrossed with our new mission."

"Oh? You know where we're going?" Jaal asked curiously.

"The Vered Cluster," Mark answered, "To relocate some colonists. I'm sure M'Kantu will tell you all about it soon? as soon as you tell him you intend to take up his offer."

"I still need to do that," Jaal admitted, "That was actually next on the list."

"Then I'll let you get to it. And remember?"

Jaal cut him off, "I know, I know," the Trill did a fair impression of Mark's tone, "Just call if you feel like talking."

"You also might want to let Captain M'Kantu know you're staying," Mark tossed out while turning to leave. "I'll see you around."

The door closed behind Mark as he left.

Jaal didn't remember mentioning to anyone that he was actually staying, at least not yet. Somehow most of the people he encountered seemed to think he was staying no matter what he said.

Truth be told, he's spent the last forty-eight hours thinking about it. In the end, Jaal decided it would be better to stay. M'Kantu was seasoned and experienced. There was an awful lot the Trill commander could learn from him. Plus, there were abundant familiar faces.

His brow knit in thought then he tapped his commbadge, "Jaxom to M'Kantu? when you have a moment, I'd like to talk to you?"

"Surprise Dinner"

Commander Jaal Jaxom
Strategic Operations

LtCmdr. Arel Smith
Stratetic Ops Liaison

& The Mystery Matchmakers...

USS Galaxy

****

"They're both way too smart for this ya know."

"It doesn't matter. The important thing is they're together and not talking about, ya know, 'business'... or sparring... or... anything else."

One looked at the other and shrugged while continuing to program what music to play.

****

It had been a real bitch of a day and the bitch had been Commander Roh'sha of the Klingon Strategic Ops, who had spent most of her time accusing Arel of being human, a spy, a liar, and of poor House standing.

Arel had finally called it a day after breaking her computer by pitching it against a wall.

Now she was heading for one of the lesser known conference rooms on deck twenty because Jaal had wanted to talk, or so the message on her computer (before it had gone out in a blaze of glory) had relayed.

She entered the room, the complaints about her day dying on her lips.

The room was dark except for the starlight entering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was quiet except for the constant, comforting hum of the ship's warp drive.

And the sound of violins.

Jaal entered from the opposite door intently studying a PADD he'd brought with him. Once he was inside the darkened room he looked up. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, or lack there of, he noticed the lone figure standing on the other side of the room. It was the unmistakable form of one Arel Smith.

Arel applied her finely tuned detective skills. "I think someone is fucking with us."

A mirthful expression spread onto the Trill's face. "Really? That would take someone with some awfully big balls to screw with 'both' of us. What makes you say that anyway?"

"This," She said, gesturing around the room. "Plus the dozen roses I got today and the box of confections from Trill."

"Ah," the Trill sat at the conference table, "That explains the Klingon love poetry I've been getting in my inbox."

"Pthaks," Arel said darkly.

Jaal did a double take. "Trill confections?" he asked, "What kind? I'm just curious."

"Caramel. Some kind of truffle." Arel shrugged. "It wasn't bad."

"They may be pthaks but they have good taste in candy," Jaal replied cheekily. He did another double take looking around the conference room, "Hey, is that violin music I hear? Did you put that on?"

She glared at him. "No, Jaal. I was too busy thinking up Klingon love poetry. I'm going to find the forshaks responsible for this and make them suffer."

Jaal broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, shut up."

When he finally settled enough to speak again he said, "As I understand it, by Klingon standards it was very good. Did you want to look?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Why not?"

Jaal slid the PADD across the table to Arel with a wide grin still plastered to his face.

Arel stood close enough to read it from his computer PADD. It was pretty much what she expected - modern Klingon love poetry, not her favorite."It's good but not very subtle."

"When are Klingons 'ever' subtle?" Jaal asked with a furrowed brow.

"Sexual prowess is usually boasted about in the third stanza," Arel explained.

"OhhHHhh, okay. I'll make sure to remember that," he quipped in response. "Ya know, it kinda reminds of the stuff that Ael used to write for me." A nostalgic expression spread across the Trill's features as he gazed at the ceiling.

"Ael?"

"Back when I was an exchange office on the IKS Greetok," he explained, "She was the captain's daughter and chief engineer... that was a long, long time ago though."

There was a sudden beep from the replicator. Arel raised an eyebrow and then went to look at it. She frowned. "It's been programmed to serve dinner for two. Well, I haven't eaten yet."

Jaal's stomach protested at the mention of food. "Neither have I. Let's have at it." The thought that someone was secretly conspiring to get he and Arel together was shoved to the back burner in his mind. Sustenance was more important right now.

"So, tell me about Ael," Arel said as she pushed the button and waited for the food to appear.

Jaal rested his head in his hand which was supported by his elbow on the table. "She was something! The crew had been playing the usual Klingon pranks on me. Then I started retaliating in my own way. When Ael found out it was me that hacked the entire ship's network she was... surprised to say the least. Then we had gotten to talking about the differences in Klingon and Federation data networks and systems and the rest is, well, history now. About four months into my tour, some rogues among Captain Drex's crew tried to kill him and take his ship. At the time the Greetok was a heavily upgraded K'Vort class. A lot of other houses wanted to get their hands on it. It had lots of experimental and new stuff. Ael and I managed to thwart their efforts with a mix of her engineering expertise and my booby traps."

She set down the food. "And the Captain? Did he .... ?"

The Trill continued, "Her father didn't find out until years later. If he suspected while I was an exchange officer he never let on. Once my time aboard the Greetok was done, we couldn't communicate with each other because of political tensions and such. Relations between the Federation and the Empire deteriorated. Eventually I met her again when Toral and his cronies hijacked the Miranda. Remember that?"**

"Yes, I remember." She had met the Klingon that had hinted to her about her father still being alive.

"She had been on Toral's crew as a spy for her father. We met up after we escaped the cargo hold. My team and I were making our way through the jeffries tubes to engineering when our paths crossed again." Jaal's tone and body language saddened as he finished his tale. "She was killed while retaking the ship. I held her as she died." Jaal's expression faded into one of deep melancholy.

"I am sorry for your loss," Arel said. Of Ael but also Taalis and Erastus Ampete. The guy was going to get a complex soon - at least that's what Samantha would have said.

"Thanks," Jaal moved some of the stuff around on his plate with a fork. He shrugged it off. "It's ancient history now. I've managed to move on." One listening wouldn't necessarily believe him however. He managed to get a fork full of dinner into his mouth and chewed it slowing. After swallowing he asked, "What ever happened to Mitchell?"

"He's working here and there on stuff," Arel replied. "And no offense but no one is buying that ancient history bullshit."

Jaal looked at her across the table with a critical eye. "Well, Era isn't ancient history. The rest is though," he countered in his own defense.

"Fair enough. Pass the potatoes."

Jaal pushed the potatoes towards her silently.

"So are you going to help me hunt down these people?"

Jaal's lips pursed in thought. "I don't know," he shrugged, "I've really got more important things to do. I'm accepting M'Kantu's offer to be his strategic operations officer. I need to think about putting together a staff." He took a sip of the water he was drinking with his meal. "Interested?" he asked hopefully. Despite their differences they 'did' work together rather well Jaal thought.

"I've already been offered the strategic liaison position," Arel said. "So yes. How can you not want vengeance for these pranks? They'll just keep happening if we let things slide."

"Oh? Did you accept it?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "And they might give up and stop the pranks too. On the other hand, is a quiet dinner with a comrade 'that' bad?"

"Of course not." They could have programmed less vegetables though, she thought.

"See?" Jaal stated matter-of-factly, "If you're the strategic ops liaison and I'm the strategic ops officer that puts us in the same department and you know as well as I do we're not suppose to date people in the same department." He shrugged again, "So let whoever it is keep setting us up."

"I did like those chocolates," Arel admitted with a smile. She thought about adding that if she wanted to date someone in her own department, a stupid rule wouldn't stop her but since he was technically her boss, she refrained. "Okay but I make no promises if I catch them."

"Fair enough," Jaal conceded grinning. "So, now that that's all settled, what do we want for dessert?"

[**Events referenced here are from USS Miranda, Episode 54, "Family Honor"]

OOC:Language Warning!

"What Makes You Stay"

Lt. Ophelia Zamora
JAG

Location: Personal Quarters

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

It was going to be another of those days Ophelia decided as she flung her legs over the edge of her bed. The haunting presence of memories distracted her to the point of frustration in tears during the long hours of the evening. It was never supposed to be like this. Lonely.....never.

She recalled the day she met him initially. Fresh from the academy, fresh with an infant to care for, fresh from exhaustion she sat in an obscure corner of the public library as Aramis lay sleeping in his carrier. Legs tucked up underneath her with her hair sloppily falling out of a ponytail, she straightened her reading glasses. Not exactly the picture of sexuality....or even interest for that matter with most of the men that gave her a passing second glance. Yes, she was pretty, bordering on a pure natural beauty with an innocence that swirled around her...yet....she had that overburdened slight slump to her shoulders that was a dead give away.

Glancing up momentarily, she blew a strand of long bang that had crossed the line into annoying. As her gaze lowered, she noticed the handsome stranger, lowing her head and blushing. She was naive, that point was written all over her delicate features. And now in hindsight, perhaps that's what drew the predator to the prey. Vulnerability, mental exhaustion, need for adult attention, and innocent naivety.

They exchanged no words, nothing but a passing glance, tired smiles, and a small spark of chemistry that instantly unbeknown to her at least....cemented the whole relationship that was to be ablaze with hopeful longing. Not giving it much more than a fleeting thought, Ophelia turned back to her book on Interplanetary law.

---------

Hindsight was 20/20. Wasn't that the famous saying? Or...if you knew then, what you knew now. But, in all honesty, how could one know what they were getting into? How many people, upon first introduction...stuck out their hand and announced their flaws? Very few, if any.

"Hi....I'm Alexander. I'm insecure, manipulative, and controlling. Given the chance, I'll beat you within an inch of your life....then offer you flowers to make it all better."

Yeah...it didn't really go that way did it? Modern singles as a whole kept great determination in keeping their pasts a secret. It is only the crafty, the shifty overly intelligent people that would dig to the point of obtaining information they really didn't want to obtain in the first place. However, in the end, it is these people that are the wisest.

A sudden flash of self anger appeared out of no where as she padded into her living area. How could she have been so damn stupid? How could she sacrifice so much of herself, for the sake of a little word called 'love'?

"What made me stay?" Zamora muttered. What made her give her infant to her mother to raise, why she attempted to make a man see that she wasn't a bad person really. She really wasn't a slut, or a whore....She really wasn't a slob....wasn't really a bitch.....wasn't really mentally challenged because she couldn't tuck the covers in correctly on the bed. She wasn't bad....stupid.....or fat and wasn't evil for not getting up on top.

"Was...am I those things?" His words of horror bounced around her head, like many times before. Yes, she knew in her heart he was dead....but her mind had a different story to tell. A story that she was much more likely to believe because of past experiences. How she had been rewired to the point of not knowing who she was. How her very soul was taken from her, held captive by a hand that knew not was true love was in the purest sense. How she was manipulated to believe that the entire universe revolved around his every freaking whim. She was his slave, his servant for life....to bow humbly at his feet and kiss them in reverence.

"Fuck." Ophelia spat into the air. "Fuck fuck fuck! Fuck you Alexander! You hear me you stupid asshole? Do you?!?" Her voice raised as her fists shot out into the air. Her dark eyes filled with anger, wanting to be the one that shot him herself. To see the pain on his face....the hole in his head...his blood spilled on the floor instead of hers.....his eyes clouded over with no emotion......she wanted to beat him plain and simple. To enact some sort of justice for the evil that he did upon her body and soul. He deserved that much, the demon did.

"ROT IN HELL!!!!!!" She cried out again, falling to her knees as her fists punched the deck plates below her.

"Rot..........in............hell." She whispered hoarsely as her tears soaked into the carpet below her. The mere silence held fast for a moment, before the gentle sobbing of an wounded soul was heard through the heavens above.

"Make me a Witness" Part 2 of 3

1st Lieutenant Branwen London SFMC Furies Psychologist
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe Chief Engineer

(Set before 'Doctor, Doctor')

***USS Galaxy, Crew quarters, Deck 8***

Dhanishta wanted to thwack her round the head, yet she resisted. After what happened with Kimberly, a simple punch on the arm for her abhorrent use of Klingon insults, the woman had ended up flat on her back. It was there for possible that a sharp whack round the head for being so ridiculous might just take the marines head off. And that really wouldn't do. Dhani paused for a moment, thinking. If Bran was like some other people she knew then just telling her out right that she was incredibly beautiful wouldn't work, she would see the compliment as a 'friend being nice' and there for null and void as a popular opinion. Dhanishta sat back and squinted slightly, "Branwen, does Man'Darr tell you that you're beautiful?"

"Yes he does." She blushed. "All the time."

Dhanishta nodded, "Okay. So if you think that the rest of us view you as ugly, and Man'Darr tells you that your beautiful, that means he's lying to you doesn't it?" she asked slowly.

"He wouldn't lie. He is very particular about his honor." Branwen said quickly knowing how much he hated being told a liar. "Never tell him he's a liar, he really hates that."

Dhanishta hid her smile and replaced it with a mild look of confusion, "So if Man'Darr would never lie to you, what is the likelihood that what he thinks and says, bearing in mid that he never lies," she added leaning forward slightly, "is true?" she asked watching Branwen curiously, hoping that the rest of the lights in her head would blink into existence and light up the truth so she could see it and start believing it herself.

"You know, I always guess he says it because he is in love with me, and then you view people differently. I don't think I am ugly, just plain, ordinary you know like most people. I'm nothing special, and that's okay." She smiled. "Dhani I don't have a problem with it. I'm just so happy that he thinks I am special and beautiful."

"But Branwen you 'are' beautiful and special." Dhani told her earnestly, "He's not saying it to make you feel good, he's telling you the truth!" she told her friend with conviction.

"It's very nice if you to say." She smiled. "You are a true friend, Dhani." It was true, recently they had become so much closer. "It is so good that we can watch out for each other."

Dhanishta shook her head, "Branwen you spend so much time trying to fix everybody else that you totally forget to look at yourself. Your job shouldn't be a shield you use so that you can skip looking at your own reflection. Whoever imprinted upon your mind that you were stupid and ugly had the problem, not you. You are beautiful, and I'm not saying that because I'm your friend." she said giving her a serious look.

"I know I am not stupid." She sighed. "But if somebody tells you for 14 years that you are worthless, the first 14 years of your life, it's very difficult to truly grate yourself off it in later life. I think I'm going well, I know I am not stupid. I don't call myself ugly anymore, but it is difficult to see myself as beautiful. Is that so bad? Plane is good enough, and I am still working on myself."

"No, its not good enough." Dhani replied seriously, "Tell me what advice you would give a patient if they came to you with this problem?"

"Well." Bran giggled. "Luckily that doesn't happen much amongst the marines, they don't mind about looks so much." Maybe that was what she liked about them so much. "But I would work with them IF it was a problem for them. Someone who is happy with themselves and who have accepted themselves like me, well I leave them alone. But some people have a distorted view of themselves and then I try to help them see themselves differently."

"Okay," Dhani replied slowly, "and what about those in denial?" she asked giving her friend a pointed look as she folded her arms.

"Well I would..." Bran narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, missy, I am NOT in denial. I am in sync with my femininity and I love myself." That she got from a book.

"Okay then, if that's true, tell me why are you marrying the 'only man that's ever looked at you', and claiming that as a foundation for marriage then? IF you were really happy with yourself then you wouldn't need to tell me, nor anyone that that he is the only one to tell you that you are beautiful." Dhani responded slightly heated.

"Okay...." Bran started and then stopped. "Maybe most men don't go for ugly or plain women?" It sounded lame even to her own ears.

Dhanishta raised her eyebrows and gave Branwen an even harder stare. After a moment pause and a few bashful looks from Branwen Dhani leaned forward and whispered, "This conversation would go better if you weren't talking to a Betazoid." she reminded her friend with a flat look.

"Oh f&*k you." Bran said with feeling. "You are not a shrink, miss Betazoid..... I will think about it okay?"

Dhanishta laughed and smiled at Branwen. Leaning over the table she gave her friend a hug and giggled some more, "Sorry," she murmured in reference to her laughing. "I do love you, ya know?" she told her. Ruffling Brans hair Dhani went to her replicator, her point had been made, though it hadn't been well received, that was inevitable. "You fancy a drink?" Dhani asked, her expression light revealing that she held no malice towards the comment or the emotion driving it.

"Yes please." Branwen said glad the grilling was over. "Say, can you tell me what is going on with Kimberly, I guess she is still mad at me, despite the fact that I helped save her. She can't forgive the things I said." She had been jealous of the other two women's relationship in the past, but not any longer. "Is she okay?"

Dhanishta shrugged as the drinks materialized in the replicator. "I have no idea how she is." she replied slightly coldly as she picked up the drinks and returned to the table. Placing them both down she sat and flashed a terse smile, "we haven't spoken much?" she tried to explain but stopped. "Look Bran before we get off topic I want to tell you a few things." She took a sip from her glass before continuing, glad for the refreshment, that conversation had been grueling for her as well but it wasn't over yet.

"First of all, if you really love Man'darr I will support you. I would be honored to be at your wedding." she held up a finger, "But!" she smiled softly and sighed, "you are making it sound like the only reason you want to marry his is A) so you two can have a sex life," she listed on her fingers, "and B) because he is the only man to chose you."

"Not completely," Bran said after a while. "You should really get to know him better, he is a very nice man and very gentle." She was watching Dhani now. "You two did not fall out did you?" She asked about Dhani and Kimberly

Dhani rolled her eyes, "Bran stop changing thee subject here would you!?" she asked irritated. "You came to tell me about your marriage, I don't doubt for one second that Man'Darr is a great guy. What I doubt is your convictions." she sat back in her chair slightly annoyed sighing with frustration. "You have believed for a long time that you are worthless. Someone with that opinion of themselves is not about to go out and show the world what they are made of. You think that Saul turning you down is sign that the rest of the men in this universe think as little of you as you do yourself, but that is ?" she paused trying to think of an appropriate phrase? "Bollocks!" she concluded. "You're the shrink here," she said leaning forward again, "you took the degrees and passed, do a self analysis would you and focus on the tree instead of the wood."

Branwen giggled. "Sorry, but you sound just like my first shrink, doctor Woodstein. He used to get angry when I tried to change the subject. I think I was the first teenager he ever had under his wing. You should go into counseling. I thought we were done now I promised to think about it. So we could talk about other topics as well." Dhani was just as bad about not being able to talk about herself. "I haven't had many men run after me, and that would be strange wouldn't it if I was truly as beautiful as you think."

"Beauty starts in here," Dhani said tapping her temple, "if you walk into a room with the opinion that you are nondescript no one is going to look at you twice. Branwen, you play the wall flower and then you cry because no one notices you. If you walked into that room with confidence, not caring what others thought because you were really comfortable in your own skin, not in denial as you *are*," she emphasized, "the room would take notice."

"Backbone"

Lt. Jarajen "Quattro" Quaaliu, CAG
General Volon Dex's, CO Starfighter Corps

Starfighter Corps Command, Saturn Station, Sol System
=========================================

"Damned four-armed, objective speaking son-of-a-bitch!"

At three in the morning, Volon Dex sat up in his heated bed and cursed the name of Quaaliu and all that name bore. The Trill's symbiont had seen over two centuries of life in the Alpha quadrant. The Dex symbiont had verbally sparred with Trill, Human, Vulcan, Tellarite, Klingon, Kzinti and Gorn, but the sour enzymes it was flooding into the gut of its host offered signs that in the Nassari flier it may have met its match.

Quattro, ever since his dogfight with the Hydrans, had been relentless in his demand for the current Rogue starfighter. He had flooded the Corps with requisitions, backed by statistics, and Quaaliu's unique and persistent brand of rhetoric. The final thrust had been a conference call.

It had not gone well.

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

[This one thinks the General should reconsider his position.]

Dex had frowned at the man's tone, but there was enough of the pilot within him to sympathize with the Lieutenant's plight. "Sorry Quattro, it's out of my hands. The Galaxy-class was never designed to carry a Starfighter Squadron. While the Vanguards have performed admirably in the past, the Corp's resources are being focused elsewhere. Carrier groups and the Pathfinder-class will be gaining the lion's share."

[That is unwise, and this one thinks the General agrees.]

"Now listen, Quattro..."

[With respect, the General should listen.] Quaaliu's image had grown as the Nassari leaned forward to his monitor's camera, flooding Dex' screens with alien, piercing eyes. [This one has seen the grace of the Hydran-maj starfighter first-hand! They are more like a work of art than a piece of military hardware - our craft flop like hag-fish out of water! This one thanks his household gods the Hydran-maj never developed the phaser!]

"You're preaching to the choir, son", Dex had offered trying to calm Galaxy's CAG, but Quattro wasn't having any of it.

[Then sing, General! This one has experienced pilots who have flown against the Hydran-maj twice! TWICE!! Most who can boast such remain silent, for the dead have no voice. The Lieutenant 'Cowboy' brings with him first-hand knowledge of their craft and weapons. An opportunity presents itself General - we can seize it if we are given the resources! The Galaxy has always been at the fore in this region of the Quadrant. The General knows this one speaks the truth!]

The General could hear the passion that Quattro put into the argument, but couldn't bring himself to give anything to the Nassari, even hope. The decision had been made much higher than he, and one didn't attain his rank without seeing how the tides flowed. "The matter's closed, Quattro. Galaxy makes do with what it has, no more... no less."

Jarajen had leaned back in his chair and seemed lost for words. [This one... hmmm.... is sorry and... understands, General. We will serve. Quaaliu out.]

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

Dex looked out of his quarter's windows at the deep saffron color of Titan as the moon rose against Saturn's brilliant horizon. Throughout his restless sleep Volon Dex could hear the words Quattro had struggled with, but had the discipline and honor not to speak out loud.

[This one is sorry he believed in the General.]

[That the General has lost faith in the Corp to follow the beat of an administrative drum saddens this one.]

[The Vanguards shall stand, despite being shackled with a fighter that has seen its day. The Hydran-maj shall come, but we shall stand.]

[This one is sorry he believed in the General.]

"Damned son-of-a-bitch!"

The Till rose and managed to make it to his office, despite the icy tiled floor. Settling down, he switched on his terminal and activated a comm channel he knew by rote.

"Ordnance."

[T'Prev here General. How may I be of assistance?]

"Commander, what's the ETA for the Albatross Project."

Dex could have sworn the Vulcan had smiled at the question, but couldn't fully trust his sleep addled senses. [The completion date has not changed since this afternoon, General.]

"Alright, this is what I want you to do..."

"The True State"

Lt. JG Ophelia Zamora
1st Lieutenant Branwen London

"Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty madness keeps aloof When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state." William Shakespeare

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

The arboretum was quiet this time of day, not many people about, and those that were went quiet as well. It suited Branwen very well, she needed time to think about a lot of things.

It did not take a long to find her favourite sport, a small field of grass under an oak tree. On the other side of the field was a small stream with running water. This was one of the places she came to think, also because it remembered her off home, the good memories of home that was. Carefully she put down the picnic things and the blanket she had brought and then sat down to enjoy a few quiet hours alone.

Nature was her element. Ophelia felt at peace with the serenity of the flowers, the wisdom of the trees, and the caressing comfort that a light breeze afforded her. Stepping through the doors, she instantly felt her inner stress melt away as her hand instinctively pulled the rose quartz pendant out from underneath her uniform top. With gentleness, she caressed the smooth stone and with every touch, was convinced the stone held powers indicative to calming emotions.

Shuffling past a line of maple trees, she found a small hiding place under the weeping branches of a small willow tree. Tucking herself up under the protective beast of nature, although small in stature, she found herself glancing towards a lone crew woman that sat next to her under an oak. "Willows are better for picnics....at least in my opinion. Care to join me?" She softly called out, hoping in part for a positive response.

The Marine blinked, she had totally missed the other young woman. And although she wanted to be left alone, misery loves company. And it was always nice to make new friends.

"Sure. Do you have a blanket, or shall I bring mine." Branwen did not want to dirty her new red summer dress. "I've also got lots of food and drink."

"I'm afraid that I've brought nothing but useless thoughts and absentminded whims......" Ophelia responded coyly. Standing, she brushed herself off for ritualistic sake before helping Bran spread out the blanket in a new position. "So.....you appear to be someone with a lot on her mind......"

"you could say that again." Branwen said laughing after bringing over her picnic basket. "I've got enough for 2." She sat down on the blanket. "I'm Branwen by the way. Did you come here to run away from the world as well?"

"Well.....Not run per say.....just jogging right now. After intelligence receives my latest reports...I will be running at that point in time." Ophelia rolled up her sleeves before offering a tired smile. "What are you running from?"

"My own thoughts, the navy, the world." She rolled her eyes and then looked at the other woman. "Man! What happened to your arms!" Bran called out alarmed before thinking.

Ophelia responded slightly with laced pain in her smile. "It's a long story. I was shoved through a glass door a long time ago." Truth be told, it was'nt that long ago...but to Zamora, it felt like a lifetime. "I was not able to seek medical attention for my wounds...so I had to take care of myself. Needless to say....I'm no doctor."

She was not a doctor either but the wounds didn't look that old. "I hear you girl." Bran said thinking back on her own youth. "But there are doctors on this ship, they might be able to do something about those scars if they bother you. I have had mine taken away years ago." Except for those deep inside her that had come back to haunt her now.

"Oh, I know. However ugly, they are a piece of my past that makes up who I am. Perhaps someday.....when I've mentally healed more I'll have them removed. But for right now......they are the spoils of a war that I won. Significance in the twisted flesh of my past so to speak."

"That makes sense." Bran nodded. She had not removed her scars straight away. "The mental healing can be such a bastard." Bran sighed, right now she was not thinking as a counselor at all. Just two girls chatting. "I remember how I hated it the first time my sister send me to a shrink. And it took me ages to admit that the guy was helping me."

"I rely on my own special guidance to work through my problems. It's not that I have a bad opinion on psychologists mind you, I have a tendency to not 'buy' the ideas and thoughts that they attempt to sell. I respect them, don't get me wrong...it's a noble field...just not down my yellow brick road."

'Nothing wrong with that if you can do it on your own."Bran said. "It's just that at one point or another most people find out that they need that little push or just someone who listens to what they say and respects them whatever they say. Or just some fresh view point. May I ask how you came to be shoved into that door? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She added quickly.

"My ex husband did it......because I did not do something to his satisfaction." Ophelia stated with eyes that suddenly hardened to an emotionless void of feeling. Her posture changed somewhat, stiffened to the point of cement as she voluntarily continued. "It was because I didn't do what I was told. Anger is love disappointed....at least....that's what he told me. 'Lia.....you know I love you...I'm just angry.' And that would be it...that would be the signal that I would get beat. It usually started with a slap, then a punch or two... But that afternoon....he was 'different'....more angry than usu all." She paused, then looked at Bran straight on. "You know the weird part? I didn't feel a thing....emotionally that is. Physically....it stung a little...but emotionally....I died earlier."

"Yeah I understand what you are saying. My father beat me for the first 14 years of my life, before my sister rescued me. I had shut down completely, it the hardest thing to get back, those emotions, and to trust people again, to love yourself again." She whispered. "What happened next?"

"With me? I don't know. The future is uncertain. I know that I would like to focus on my job, do what's expected of me, enjoy my time of solitude and perhaps in the future learn to trust the male species yet again." She leveled her gaze against Bran's yet again. "I have to 'find' myself again. To break the robotic hold that he had over me is something that takes time. I wish to not stereotype the men that I work with...but at this point...it's inevitable. I see someone I might like to get to know...then instantly...my mind tells me to think of what he's capable of doing to me in the physical sense. Is he strong enough to throw my head against a end table? Push me into a wall? Kick me in the ribs when I'm on the floor? I hate that.....yet...that is where I am right now. Deep inside.....I know that all men are not like my ex. Yet.....superfluously....my mind tells me that they are."

"It wasn't very long ago, was it?" Bran leaned forward ready to offer support. "Your reactions sound like it is still pretty raw." Her eyes were full of concern.

"A few months ago." She quietly stated.

"Oh honey." Branwen felt the urge to touch her but stopped. When she first escaped from her parents, she didn't trust anybody enough to have them touch her. "I feel like giving you are hug, is that okay with you?" She asked softly.

"I....." She held up her hand for a moment, before shaking her head negatively. "If you don't mind....no. I...don't like contact for obvious reasons." Her voice grew quiet as she searched Bran's eyes for some sort of acceptance. A single tear ran down her cheek as she blinked. "He....beat me." Zamora whispered. "Ya know? Right there...." She pointed to the corner of her eye. "That's where he pushed me....and here...." She pointed to her thigh. "That's where he pushed me into a table.....and.....I think I deserved it...."

"Ophelia." Branwen said very softly but with determination. "Believe one thing, it is never your fault. Nobody deserves to be treated like that." She stayed close but not touching. "Nobody has the right to do something like that to another humanoid being. You have to keep repeating it to yourself." She felt so much for the other woman, also because it brought back so many memories of her own. "What can I do for you besides touching that could bring you a little bit of comfort?"

"What brought me comfort has already been done." Zamora whispered before turning her gaze to a tree of in the distance. "I have a son out there.........."

"Oh honey." Branwen said full of compassion. "Did you husband keep him?" Again she had to keep herself from touching the other woman. She had learnt over the years to accept this form of comfort again.

"My mother is caring for him in Barcelona. My 'ex' husband....is not his father."

"There is so much I want to ask right now." The young Marine said honestly. "But again, only tell me what you want to share. And remember, I don't judge."

"'Aramis was the result of a one night stand......and he was but a few months old when I met Alex. At first, Alex adored Aramis....yet...." Ophelia grew silent for a moment. "It was in my son's best interest to be with my mother."

The picture was clear, he must have hurt the child as well. It made Bran said. Children should grow up safe, if was so hard to overcome those issues of abuse. "I understand." She said softly.

"Now that I am....'free', I would like Aramis to join me. Yet my mother has her concerns. I do not wish it to turn legal...but at this point....it looks like it might. She has filed for permanent custody before I arrived on board....Another battle of which to fight....."

"Why? You don't have a good relationship with your mother?" Bran asked gently. "How old is he?"

"He's six...and no...I don't have a good relationship with her." She stated a matter of fact.

"But Aramis is your son, usually a judge will rule for the mother, especially since you have your life in order again. You are away from Alex and you hold a steady job. That is what they like to hear."

"I know the law." Zamora replied heartily. "So...enough about me...what's your story?"

OOC: Takes place after "Oh, great, a newbie..."

"A New Friend, Pt.1"

Ensign Alexandra "Alex" Lee (PCC-Aaron)
Engineering Officer

Michael McDowell
Civilian Engineering Specialist

*** Ten Forward ***

Alex sat back in the chair. It was a comfortable break from the hard work and time she had gone through during the battle. The crew in the lounge went about their business of ordering drinks and talking with their friends and laughing-obviously letting their nervousness out of their systems from the hard pitched battle. Looking down a moment, she for the first time seemed to notice that her unform was marked with stains of grease, bio-gel, and burn marks.

More people stepped into Ten Forward and Michael McDowell was one of them. Unlike many of them he had been pretty lucky (again) and come out unscathed from the last battle. He wondered why he had been so lucky in that respect over the past battles he experienced. He lost friends though and that was what dictated his mood. Right now he didn't feel joy that he was still here. Once he was at the bar he ordered a 'Black Hole', hoping that would sooth the pain somewhat.

Alex's attention was soon caught by a man wearing a civilian insignia. She recalled that he had also been in engineering during the battle. What is his story? Why is he a civilian working in engineering aboard a Starfleet ship? she thought to herself and finally stood, making her way over to the man. "Um, excuse me, but you seem like you could use a friend...I'd imagine we all do at the moment."

Michael turned his head and looked at the young woman beside him. She looked vaguely familiar to him but he could not quite place her. He hesitated, not sure what to answer. On the one hand he wanted to be left alone, on the other hand...talking was probably the best thing they could do. Counselors said that all the time. "Yeah, you could be right about that.." Michael tilted his head a bit to spot her rank. "...Ensign...?

Alex extended her hand and smiled. "Ensign Alexandra Lee, sir. Engineering Officer," she said formally. "Would you care to join me at my table?"

There was a brief smile when Michael accepted her hand. "Michael McDowell, Engineering Specialist. So,...where to? I mean, where´s your table?"

"Follow me," she said with a sideward nod of her head as she led him to a table in the corner near the external viewports and sat down. "So...how come you're a civilian engineer aboard a Starfleet ship?"

Michael wondered what made her ask that question as he gazed at her for some moments. He focused on his drink again, letting the dark liquid roll around in the glass. "Maybe this sounds odd, but sometimes I ask myself that same question. Oh, I know how I became one but I'm not sure for what reasons. At least, not at that moment." He laughed softly and looked up. "I guess I'm not making any sense here, right?"

"I see....well, yeah, you do. We all have our own reasons for doing what we do, I suppose. Lord knows I have mine," she sighed as she downed a large sip of her Talarian Sunrise drink. She fought hard to keep herself calm and her hands from shaking...after all this had been her first battle. She supposed everyone's first time in battle was rough, except for maybe a Klingon.

"Everyone has a story. Some are nicer than others. That's the way of things." That sounded a bit melodramatic. Not really something that this conversation needed. "Ah, forget I said that. That sounded too pessimistic."

Alex smiled again. "How about onto something else then?"

Michael nodded. "Good idea. How about how you got assigned to the USS Galaxy?"

Alex shrugged her shoulders. "Beats me...just lucky I suppose. I was assigned to the Galaxy right out of the Academy. But I guess eight years of Engineering Training kinda puts you at the top of the list for preferable candidates from the Academy."

"Eight years? Where did you get that field experience?" Michael asked curiously. "I can imagine that made some classes at the Academy a bit easier."

Alex chuckled. "Didn't say I had the expierence, just the training. I majored in Mechanical Engineering at New Paris University before I applied to the Academy. Yeah, it did make things a bit easier at the Academy. What about you?"

"Me? I started at the University of Delft, Holland. Studied Physics and Mathematics and left with a degree in in Quantum Mechanics. After that I worked a full year at the Institute for Advanced Physics in Antwerp, Belgium. The rest of my educational life does not differ much from yours. I entered the Academy in '69 and four years later I was assigned to the USS Galaxy."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Thats impressive. So, if you don't mind me asking, what are your opinions of this ship and crew. I've talked with Lieutenant Nara Roswell and she told me some pretty interesting things about some of the people aboard the Galaxy. I've heard about the guy who is supposed to resemble Death itself, a winged crewman, and a psychotic Marine."

A brief frown crossed Michael's face. When she mentioned 'Death' he knew about who she was talking. It looked liked Ensign Lee and Nara had been reviewing the more interesting part of the crew. He nipped of his 'Black Hole'. Sadly it was the last of the black liquid. "I see you're quickly becoming aquainted with the ship's crew. I can only say that you probably want to stay away from Mr. Death, or Victor von Death as some say. I don't know him personally...but from what I hear he's...unique. And I got my information from a very reliable source. About the other two, I know that they're on board this ship but I've never talked to them before. Not that I don't want to, it's just that we never crossed paths, that's all."

Alex couldn't help but chuckle at the 'Victor Von Death' Comment. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him then. She looked at the man for a long while...he was rather attractive...and most likely taken. 'All the good ones are, Alex,' she mentally told herself. "So...anyone else I should keep an eye out for?"

"Yeah, me. " Michael quipped and laughed. It was out before he knew it. "Nah, that was a joke. I wouldn't know anyone else you have to watch out for. It's a good crew on this ship. Oh, well, maybe the Chief." That last comment caused Michael to smirk.

"Oh? And why is that? I've heard that she was fair."

"Hey, that was also a joke. I thought you would catch that one." Again Michael laughed. He was actually enjoying himself. When he realized that his grin dissapeared gradually. It didn't feel right. How could he be laughing right after a period where he lost some good friends? He came here for totally different reasons. "But you're right. She's honest, fair, and a good Chief. I can personally vouch for that."

Alex blushed slightly at not catching the joke. 'Aloof as always, Alex,' she told herself. She studied the man a moment. "I'm sorry....I'm usually not the quickest to catch on to things, especially when it comes to jokes and sexual interests. I take it you're well acquainted with the chief?"

"You could say that, yes." Michael waited a few seconds before he decided to level with Ensign Lee. "In fact, that's a bit of an understatement. She and I, we're together." It was kind of a strange experience for Michael to admit that he was involved, and no less to an atractive young woman.

Alex was surprised at the statement. She hadn't been expecting that answer. Should she even be seen with him? What if people begin to get the wrong idea about them? Would the Chief get jealous? That was the last thing she needed.

There it was. That akward silence. If it was one thing Michael couldn't stand it was that. "So, ehm, how are you coming along in the Engineering Department? I mean, is everything ok? No problems?"

Relieved that the silence was broken, she smiled. "I suppose I am getting along with everyone, except Kastanza. It seems he wants some...personal time with me, if you get my meaning. The man is more perverted than a Ferengi."

Michael nodded. "Kastanza, still trying to be the Don Juan sometimes. Maybe it doesn't look like it, but he's quite harmless. If he's bugging you, tell him that straight to his face. Just be outright clear to him so that he gets the point. From what I've heard that should pull him back to reality."

"Thanks. I'll be sure to remember that," she replied. "So...I suppose I have interrogated you enough. Feel free to ask anything about me. I'm an open book." She smiled brightly.

TBC...

"Doing Stupid Things" Part 1 of 2

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer
Lt Jebidiah Baile, SFMC, on loan to the Spooks.

*****Nara's Quarters*****

Nara was home alone. Branwen was off doing something and she had given permission to let Saia go watch a 'movie' with some boy and some other kids their age. Nara specifically told her, when Saia started seeming interested in boys seriously, that she was not allowed to date yet. However, group outings was fine. Now she found herself bored and thinking about Baile.

Some odd curiosity. Saul told her not to bother. Yet she couldn't help it. It nagged at her. It drew her. Not to mention she'd never tried to connect to a mind that she wasn't in the same room with. Consequences flashed through her mind, but she thought she'd just go to the surface and that's it. See if she could do it. She settled herself on the chair comfortably and closed her eyes, told the computer to dim the lights as she concentrated on the memory of Baile's mind, sending a shiver as she did.

A good soldier tries to get some sleep whenever possible. It is after all impossible to predict when the next opportunity might come. An experienced soldier sleeps when he or she wants to. Tired or not. It's a skill most soldiers develops in the field of combat as well as the ability to be fully awake at the drop of a hat. Although a useful skill it wasn't perfect.

Baile had dozed off, doing just that which experienced soldiers did. Getting himself some sleep before being shipped out. It had been a wierd couple of days. Fay had visited him, wanting information from him. He hadn't given it to her for dozens of reasons, none that made any sense to him now. Dhani had visited him as well, leaving him with more questions than answers, questions he really didn't intend to find any answers to. Then he had 'bumped' into Dhani's inquisitive sister as well. Now there was a person he would kill if he saw her on the field of battle, regardless what he had promised Saul.

He was sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Going to bed would probably have been the normal thing to do, but his mind, his entire body had adjusted itself for battle. It would have been near impossible to relax there without feeling too exposed. Thus the choice of the wall opposite the entrance and the gun in his lap.

It took awhile and a good deal of mental energy. More than she was used to. It passed through her mind that she might want to be trained as a telepath rather than fiddling in it like a hobby. She sighed to push the distracting mind wandering away. She tried a little tactic she'd heard of several mediators use to focus. Chanting. Muttering under her breath, she began, "Jedidiah Baile...Jedidiah Baile...Jedidiah Baile..." She continued until she found the famili ar psyche .

Locked tight. She had two choices: Give up and read a book or try harder. She had nothing really pulling her to read. This draw to poke in Baile's brain was irresistible. She started slowly to push. Beads of sweat formed on her brow from the mental exertion.

Outwardly, she suddenly let out a breath she'd been holding in her attempt.

Mentally, she found herself in Baile's mind finally. But further than she intended. In pushing to get past the barrier she created a mental inertia that sent her flying into the depths of his mind. Well, now that she was here...

She stumbled into the darkness for a second until she regained her balance again. Coldness touched her skin in the same way that a northern wind would. Cold and biting. The darkness was almost physical, not even the ground could be seen. Then something seemed to appear in the sky or what at least passed as a sky in Baile's mind. A weak light, silvery pale. A razor's edge of a new moon.

The light was impossibly faint and yet details started to appear. Tiny reflections here and there until a ghost like landscape had finally shown itself. Glitternig crystals of ice covered everything, scraping against the sole of her boots. Chaos ruled there, but not in its usual destructive form. Everything there changed as the marine stepped further and further away from the humanity he had been born with.

There was a wind blowing, the kind of wind that turned bones into ice but no sound of it was heard. It tugged at her hair, formed tiny crystals of ice in moments. It played in the folds of her clothes until it started getting stiff from the numbing cold. The clouds of her breathing fell slowly towards the ground as the tiny drops of moisture was turned into crystals of ice.

Silence. It was so silent she could hear her own heartbeat hammering like thunder in her ears.

A ghostworld.

TBC

"Doing Stupid Things" Part 2 of 2

Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer
Lt Jebidiah Baile, SFMC, on loan to the Spooks.

*****

She thought the last time she was here it was inhumanely cold, now it was torture. This wasn't worth curiosity. It was a numbing cold. A kind of cold that you want to escape from, but all warmth and energy is sapped until you just want to lie there and pray for death. She struggled out of that and tried to back out... without luck. She shivered violently and screamed a weak call, "Baile!" It felt as if her very voice froze in the air.

The name carried far in the cold and darkness. The door in had been shut close. That much was obvious. But there had to be another way out. The alternative was not an option.

She frantically searched for a way out. Or maybe even a warmer part of his mind. She laughed as she realized how ridiculous that was. The chuckle grew into a hysterical laughter as the panic grew. Tears formed and froze on her bottom eyelids. She choked on the ice air.

The cold bordered on unbearable. Her muscles spasmed violently in the cold. Out. The only line of thought that existed in her mind. Get out. Out of there. She stumbled on, down the frozen hill she had climbed up on. Seeing the horizon hadn't helped. Now she knew what a nuclear winter must look like. A frozen landscape hidden from the warming sun.

A scream filled with fear, anger, terror and helplessness shattered the silence. It echoed over the wasteland that was Baile's mind. It made her heart skip several beats in sheer fear. Then the silence returned again, broken only by two sounds - the beating of her heart and her breaths.

She wondered if she had screamed, but then she saw someone run. She forgot she was on a mindscape and moved closer as if she were on the very surface of some comet or very cold planet. As she got closer, she saw he was bleeding. His eyes reflected her own feelings.

She sees another man and before her mind can formulate questions, she sees a blade strike for terrorized man. Her mind raced as it came back to conclusions. She remembered she was in Baile's mind. She shivered in cold and fear as she tried to determine if it was a dream, a memory, a desire. She gulped as she didn't care.

Out. Out. Out. She screamed the word as if saying it would help, "OUT!"

The dying man's head turned to sideways until he seemed to look at her. The terror in his eyes was almost physical. This wasn't fear of dying. The man feared for his very soul. His very existance.

She stumbled back. She wanted the nightmare to end.

Her feet slipped on the frozen ground. She landed heavily on her back, feeling the sharp iceshards puncture her skin in a dozen places. Tiny, tiny scrapes which burned like fire despite the cold. Or maybe thanks to the cold.

Her tears were starting to freeze over her eyes, making her vision blurry. The pain was so intense, she wanted to pass out from it. Unfortunately, it wasn't terrible enough and she'd had enough combat to have gotten use to various types of pain. But this pain was a new one.

All around her tiny lights started appearing. One by one they lit up the surrounding until she could start to make out colors. The world that represented Baile's mind was far from empty. Everywhere she turned she could see it. A chill ran down her spine, a chill of which kind she never wanted to feel again. It came like a tide towards her, relentless and terrible. Nara's eyes slowly widened, the oncoming tide reflecting in her eyes.

Even in her ice-blurred vision, she made it out well enough. The fear needed some verbal outlet. All her mind and frozen lips could form was, "Oh...shit."

Naranda bolted up.

She was shivering and feeling immense fear. It must had been a nightmare. Looking around, she found herself on the floor in the common area of her shared quarters. She looked over at the chair and noticed it was slightly damp. She was sweating? One of the vague memories she had was feeling very cold. Her brows furrowed. Was she having a dream about the time the space station she grew up on lost power and the temperatures dropped quite a bit?

She heard an alarm reminding her it was time to go get Saia. Which she apparently was 20 minutes late for. She stood and stumbled to the bathroom. She was still shivering. The fear was strong and she wanted to run away. But from what? There was no logical reason to run. There was nothing here to fear.

Still, something haunted her mind. Something she couldn't recall. She still didn't know why she'd fallen asleep in the chair. She shook her head and went for the water shower. Maybe that would knock the fog away.

"Trapped in a Turbolift"
by Ensign Sharzhevashi zh'Rin

***

The turbolift doors to the bridge whooshed closed. Sharzhevashi zh'Rin sagged against the back wall, content to be off duty with the rest of the day ahead of her. Beside her, a human man with short dark hair and piercing eyes watched her. The two pips on his collar marked him as a lieutenant junior grade and the colors in his uniform put him in sciences.

"You fell asleep."

Shi looked up, puzzled. "What?"

He smiled and tapped her shoulder with a finger, causing her to take an involuntary step back. "On the bridge. You fell asleep."

"I did not," Shi answered. "I closed my eyes. While I monitored our status through sensors and my station, I closed my eyes. It helps me think sometimes."

"Uh huh."

She frowned. Too human an expression, for certain, but it seemed appropriate. She flexed both antennae for good measure. "What is that supposed to mean, sir?"

He grinned. "Call me Davis. And it means when most people close their eyes for ten minutes, they're sleeping."

"Ten minutes? How do you know I closed my eyes for ten minutes?" Shi took another step away. He did not seem threatening but his smile was quite unsettling.

"I counted," he said.

"You counted?"

"That's what I said. I counted. Your eyes were closed for ten minutes." He had a self-satisfied expression on his face. A pleased grin as he puffed out his chest just slightly.

"I was not asleep," Shi said again. "My species only requires four hours of sleep in a thirty-two hour period."

Davis shrugged. "Not bad," he said. "Though, I'd think if you only need a couple hours of rack time a day, probably best not to catch it all while you're on-duty. Know what I'm sayin'?"

"For the last time," Shi growled, jaw clenched tight and eyes flashing, "I was not sleeping. Closing my eyes helps with my concentration. I am able to better focus. If my eyesight were required, my station would have sounded an alarm."

Throwing his hands up in a placating gesture. "No need to get all riled up. Just trying to be helpful is all. Sheesh. Where you sleep and when isn't my business, just thought I'd pass on a friendly warning, that's all. The person in the big chair catches you nodding off, they're liable to toss you out an airlock or wash you out of Starfleet or something."

"I was not--" Shi stopped herself, took a breath. "Might I inquire as to a point you wish to make, Lieutenant Davis?"

"Actually it's Lieutenant Franklin. Lieutenant junior grade Davis Anderson Franklin."

Shi blinked. "Your name is comprised of three Terran surnames."

He took a step back. "Well, yeah," he said. "There are people who do. It's not unusual."

One eyebrow and both antenna shifted.

"Well, maybe for an Andorian," he finally conceded.

"Is there a purpose to your harrassing me over my sleep habits, Lieutenant," Shi asked after a moment.

Davis shifted his feet, looked left and right even though they were the only ones in the turbolift. Finally, with a sheepish grin, he said, "Yeah, I wanted to ask you about your friend."

Her left antenna twitched to a questioning angle. "Which friend are you referring to?"

"The one with the guitar," he said quickly. "She wanders around the ship but doesn't do anything. And always has that guitar."

"Artemis," answered Shi. "And she is waiting on an assignment. It is likely she will return to the Academy soon."

Davis' expression crumpled. "She's leaving!?"

Both antennae flexed outward in a shrug. "Perhaps."

"She can't! I'm going to marry her!" Davis began to pace.

"Is Artemis aware of this?"

"Haven't gotten around to that yet. Wait. Academy?"

Shi nodded. "Yes. Had you not noticed she is a first year cadet?"

"Well, not exactly. I...I wasn't exactly looking at her collar, you know."

Shi took another step away from him and found herself against the wall of the turbolift.

"Not that," he said, eyes rolling. "What kind of creep do you think I am? I've been looking at her eyes. Her eyes."

Shi gave him a skeptical look, but finally decided he seemed somewhat sincere. "Alright. Well, yes, Artemis is a cadet."

"Well, I guess I'd better make my move."

He was pacing again, and Shi felt herself getting dizzy. "Are you certain she has reached the appropriate maturity level for your species to enter into such a committment?"

Davis shrugged. "Sure, she's a cadet. She's got to be old enough." He stopped, then looked at her again. "Why do you ask?"

Shi crossed her arms over her chest and studied him for a moment. "You know nothing about her, do you?"

He looked suddenly nervous. "Like what?"

"She did not enjoy a normal childhood," Shi said.

A snort of laughter burst from him. "Who has? You're not into other girls are you? Trying to keep her for yourself?"

"What!?" Both antennae stood straight up from Shi's head. Her eyes were wide open with surprise. "Why would you even suggest--? Lieutenant, have you considered seeking counselling?"

"Regular weekly appointments, actually. You didn't answer my question." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Shi sighed. "I am involved in a very complex relationship. You would not understand."

He nodded suggestively. "Oh yeah, the Andorian four people thing."

Aghast, Shi stepped back from him. "It's not like that at all! It is a biological necessity, not some human...frivolity!"

"Of course," Davis said, sniggering. "Always figured you Andorians were more wild than you let on. Well, I don't care what you say, I'm still asking Artemis to marry me. Artemis, that's really her name?"

It took all of Shi's willpower not to wrap her fingers around his throat. "You claim to want to marry her, but did not know her name?"

"Well, it wasn't like we got introduced, you know," Davis said. "I've just seen her around, heard her sing. Have you heard her sing? Voice like an angel."

"I have heard her sing." She wondered if anything she could say would get through to him. "Do you even know if you and she have anything in common?"

Looking wounded, he crossed his arms over his chest. "She loves her music and I love her. And her music. Artemis is a goddess."

Looking confused again, Shi tried to figure out if he was serious. He looked serious. "As far as I am aware, she bears know deific significance to any species or culture."

"No, not her. In Ancient Greece on earth, there was a goddess in Greece called Artemis." He sighed dreamily. "I wonder if she likes flowers."

"I am uncertain," Artemis answered. "Is the turbolift stuck?"

Davis was confused for a moment, then nodded in understanding. "Oh no. No, not stuck." He pointed to one of the controls flashing in the wall. "I stopped it." He pressed the button and the door opened with a whoosh.

Outside the car, several angry looking people stood, muttering to one another. An engineering team carrying a cutting torch turned the corner, saw the doors open. The engineer at the head of the team let out a string of curses and motioned all the others back.

"I am so sorry for the delay," Shi said as she slipped from the turbolift, wary of the angry glares around her.

"Don't tell Artemis," Davis called after her. "About me popping the question. I want it to be a surprise!"

Sharvezhashi blinked slowly. She then turned slowly and walked away. While she did not want to see Artemis leave the ship, perhaps that would be the best course of action. As fond as she was of the human/Vulcan cadet, perhaps having to deal with Davis Anderson Franklin would be too much for her friend.

With a sigh, she glanced back at the now-closed turbolift doors. "Ensign zh'Rin to Cadet Bancroft."

"Heya, Shi," came the reply. "How was the ship flying?"

"I did not crash the ship," Shi answered with a smile. "We need to talk."

"Righto," Artemis answered. "I'll meet you in the lounge. Drinks are on me."

"The drinks are free," Shi replied.

Artemis' laughter rang through the communicator. "I know! See you soon."

Turning back to the turbolift, Shi began going through how she would break it to her young friend in regard to the crazy stalker who had apparently decided to marry her even without ever having met her. Perhaps this ship bred insanity. At least that would answer a number of lingering questions.

"Rage against the Machine"
Part III of the END OF ALLISON SAGA

Starring:
Crewman Allison Jimsdottir--written by Chris
Mika sh'Sonora (npc)--written by Dallas

USS GALAXY Deck 11

The great thing about working out was that if anybody asked, you could tell them the tears running running down your cheeks was just sweat.

Young Allison Jimsdottir was working up a lot of 'sweat' this afternoon in the Deck 11 Gymnasium.

They were'nt tears Damnit!

It was sweat!

"fourteen.......fifteeen......sixteen........dumbfrazzing bastard........eighteen....." she hissed through tightly clenched teeth as she lunged again and again against the heartless strain of the weight machine.

"......twenty six........slutbitch.......twenty eight.......boneheadedfrak.....twenty nine......"

Something twinged in her arm as she reached thirty and with a squeak of frustration she shoved the bar away from her face dripping with anger and pain.

Slumping heavily over the cold metal of the bar she listend to the rushing blood in her ears, and felt the thuding of her heart bouncing

between her temples.

"Goshdarnfrazzing nincompoop idiotslut blueskinned whoremongering jerkface........" the mantra of pain and frustration tumbled from her whispering lips like a fervent prayer of damnation.

How could he do this to her.......to ME of all people!!!

How could he be with her....with HER?

Shesnotevenfrazzinghumanthelittlebluehussyslut.........ARRRRGH!

Alli slapped the cold metal again transferring her feeling of helplessness out onto the uncaring machine.

The machine sat there uncaring. It had been designed for abuse. The little blond gil from Iceland wasnt the first to seek solace in working oneself to exhaustion........she wouldnt be the last either.

Heaving a great sigh, Allison replenished her lungs of oxygen and slumped back to look around the gymnasium. Nearly an acre of machines, mirrors, and sweaty leotard-clad bodies surrounded her, none seeming to notice the slim figure slumped sadly over the weight machine.

The crowd was light today......most of the Crew preparing for the evacuation.....which was okay with Allison because it let her sit quietly without some bubble head asking her if she was done with the machine.

Not that Allison was in desperate need of exercise mind you.

The simple green leotard she'd chosen revealed a tenderly curved young body that was maintained more through a hyperactive metabolism rather than actual nutritional vigilence.

It was okay. Allison was young enough to not worry about what she ate.....yet.

Using the towel slung around her neck to mop her brow of the salty frustration, she also dapped at her reddened eyed as well.

Tears and sweat.......thanks goodness they blended together.

She just couldn't beleive it when Mary broke her the news......

Married?

Impossible.

James Corgan.........what the zark was she going to do about him?

Him and his little blue skinned ho? Why couldnt the freakazoid open his eyes?

Alli was standing right in front of him and he couldnt see her as more than just antother frakking starfleet uniform.

What was wrong with the man?

Arrgh!!! Alli growled and rattled the bar. Why just give her five minutes with that little Andorian skank......she'd show her who was better for HER James......

"Excuse me.....are you done with the weight machine?...." A soft strangely acented voice cut into Allison's fuming.

"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M..........YOU......." Alli rounded on the newcomer, swallowing her retort in a shocked gulp.

The Andorian female stood before her in all her 5 feet of azure skinned womanly-ness. A tight grey and green spandex leotard hugging her in all the right places, and for an instant making Alli a bit self concious about her own body.....

Allison Jimsdottir was a cute girl...........Mika sh'Sonora was a beautiful woman.

"You........"

To another woman, Mika could have been a rival and a dangerous one. The older (but still young, as she would argue) woman had a keen mind, killer body and plenty of energy.

The keen mind knew from an early age that it needed to make her body lean and fighting trim in order to make the most of her energy and mind. It was the three pillars of Andorian Southern Style she had studied for years, and its results were a compact, no frills figure. Tight, lean, muscles hinted but did not bulge, yet the leotards couldn't hide that she did have the hints of well developed abdominal muscles.

Keeping a figure like hers was hard work.

In her mind's eye, nobody saw beauty in book smarts. Mika felt she had no fleshy components that made men swoon; no chest or buttocks to speak of.

Of course, she was small and slight, but a lack of confidence that dogged her well into her adult life led her to these illusions, which she compensated with exercise and flashy clothing.

On the other hand, she stared down the nubile, 17 year old flesh of on Allison Jimsdottir, she who pursued her very human boyfriend and had the all too real advantage of one or two cup sizes, an approximate decade and a quarter's youth, and luscious pink/white skin, hair like spring quadratriticele and eyes like Andorian ice, Mika couldn't help but feel a little bit threatened.

~"Wish I had a body like that at her age."~ Was Mika's first assessment.

"It's you......" Alli hissed, brows furrowing and feeling the metal bar creak slightly under her clenching fists.

Then came Mika's second assessment, based on conjecture by James and Alli's previous statments. ~"Handle carefully."~ She thought.

"Hayo." Mika closed her eyes and nodded her head downwards, antennae arching down as a gesture of peaceful first contact between strangers, "I believe we have not meet before, and I was tactless to forgo my introduction. I am Mikaiu, but everyone calls me Mika.

Whom might you be?"

"You......you're the Andorian....Meeeeka." Alli burrowed little hot spears of hate into her rival, "You're the one James is gonna marry instead!!"

"Then you are one of his staff?" Mika replied, "My boyfriend has not left it much of a secret. I know a handful of his officers, yet I have not had the pleasure to meet you face to face. You are... Allison?"

"Like duh!," Alli snapped, "Dont you know the face of the person who's life you ended.....no?"

She rose from the machine and glared at her azure skinned rival.

"Well take a good look 'sister'," she said thumping her chest, "Thanks to your meddling, my lifes over....thanks a million."

Mika took a step back, secretly intimidated by the crewman recruit's gnashing teeth and surly demeanor, "James has mentioned you before. He speaks highly of you. He has even spoke to me about the exemplary job you have been doing as his personal assistant. Praise from him may seem cheap, but he does not take it lightly."

"Praise from.......?" Alli gaped. "Hel-lo.....Earth to extraterrestrial......this isnt about job performance or getting a gold star on my annual review.....this is about you running off with James.....I mean its true right? You two are actually getting married right?"

"Well..." Mika blushed a turquoise blue in her cheeks, "Yes. We are getting married."

"Oh yeah?" Alli stomped her foot. "Well that's just great! I'm screwed."

She feigned rolling up a sleeve and stomped off towards the locker room. "I'm gonna have words with that jerk.....Look out James Corgan.....you and I are gonna settle this once and for all......its her....or me!"

Mika tried to keep a kind face to the events. She humoured the teenage girl with her talk about millions at stake, mistaking it for common teenage drama. But then she had a look and an assessment of Allison, the girl James feared to smash a big asteroid of reality into her glitter spackled head.

Nobody threatened Mika's man!

"Girl..." Mika's voice carried with it a low threat, "Unlike James, I am less than gentle with my rivals and enemies. I have tried to be peaceful with you. I have tried to understand you, but you have made even that difficult. With an attitude like yours, I would not invite you to a Quad, much less have you as James' assistant. Your obsession with him has bordered on insanity. I ask you this... leave James alone and move on with your life."

Alli rolled her eyes pouting, "Oh like thats really possible.....he's gonna be in my life and I in his no matter what."

Then Mika grumbled like a thunderstorm, "And I have heard enough of your delusions! There is no possible way you two can be together! Get
over him"

The two leotard clad women stared each other down for long moments, the air had a palpable tension in it.

Allison stared at her blue skinned rival, "You're nothing you little whore." she spat, "You're nothing to James Corgan and you dont even know it. He's never gonna marry you. NEVER. He belongs to me......its destiny!!"

Alli Jimsdottir (not quite as cute as she usually was) then stepped around the Andorian.

The hell with all of this......What a fucking waste of time.

She needed to go straight to the horses mouth.

Straight to James Corgan and settle this once and for all.

"Make me a Witness" Part 3 of 3

1st Lieutenant Branwen London SFMC Furies Psychologist
Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe Chief Engineer

***USS Galaxy, Crew quarters, Deck 8***

"Beauty starts in here," Dhani said tapping her temple, "if you walk into a room with the opinion that you are nondescript no one is going to look at you twice. Branwen, you play the wall flower and then you cry because no one notices you. If you walked into that room with confidence, not caring what others thought because you were really comfortable in your own skin, not in denial as you *are*," she emphasized, "the room would take notice."

"That is not my style you know," Bran said softly, "it isn't the way I was raised. A proper welsh girl doesn't draw attention to herself. It is very difficult to shake that kind of upbringing completely. I have come a long way, Dhani, you have no idea. I am proud of myself, but I am still working on certain things."

Dhanishta nodded slowly, "Then is it a good idea to marry the first person that comes along Bran?" she held up a finger to stall her reply, "I'm not saying that he isn't a great guy, or that he isn't the one for you, but Branwen you barley know him. You have been together for a few months, that isn't enough time to really know someone. You two are still in the honeymoon period where everything is romantic, gestures are huge and any affection is taken as a solid commitment. You don't know his bad habits, the ones that will drive you to distraction in your old age, you don't know his family, or his friends, or how he will treat you once you are 'his'. There is so much more for you to discover about him, and he you. Does he know how you feel about yourself? Does he really understand? Has he any idea of your past, upbringing or religion?"

Dhani shook her head already knowing the answer to those questions, "You don't have to have sex to be intimate with him. There are many more ways to express your love for him, with him. There are *many* ways to satisfy your man other than intercourse. If he truly loves you Bran, then he will wait until you are ready, until the bond between you transcends death. Get engaged to him, confirm your commitment to him, move in together, explore each others bodies, minds, lives and then some. But Branwen, don't just marry him because he wants to sleep with you, cause your gonna be screwed in more ways than one if, when that magical night ? which by the way is totally over rated," she added from experience, "proves to be the crappiest night of your life. There is no way to remove that ring from your finger once he puts it there, is there?" she asked, "And what's more, he could be totally awful in bed, and then what are you gonna do?"

"Dhani I don't mind if he is bad in bed. Sex isn't really that important to me. I hear what you say and I understand you are right, but I am going to marry him. It feels good, Dhani. He doesn't have any family anymore; he needs me as much as I need him. And I just feel that we will be good together. He is the one for me. Don't worry about me, my friend, it will be okay. We will be good together." She grinned. "Just be happy for me. I will talk to Dar, and bring up some of your concerns but unless something really bad happens I will not cancel the wedding. I hope you will be there beside me to support me."

"Branwen, don't bring up my concerns, bring up your own. You don't need to justify yourself to me, you don't have to validate your relationship to me, you have to do that for yourself. You are an amazing person. Saul was too shortsighted to see that, and frankly your far better off without him. Just look at Nara," Dhani said with a flick of her hand, "Do you see her running around happy with her relationship? No, because she knows that he is an untrustworthy scum bag. She is content to be with him, knowing that," ~even though she too deserves more~ Dhani thought silently, "but that is not the sort of relationship that you deserve."

She took Brans hands in her own, "You deserve to trust your man implicitly, to know that he would never lie to you or leave you when it suits his agenda. You deserve to be loved, and to love in return, but you first need to love yourself Bran, that, and that alone, is the most important thing. I will be by your side no matter what. If you decide to go ahead with this marriage I will support you and I will be there for you, if you decide that you are unsure and you want to wait, I will be here. And if he turns out to be a total arse-hole, I'll kick his head in." her tone never changed as she spoke making the threat sound just like every day conversation, "I'm not trying to change your mind here, only to make sure that you have thought it all through, and I speak with experience Bran." she told her hinting at her own past failed romance. "I care about you and I just want you to make the right decision, the one that's best for you, not what appeases everybody else, okay?"

"Thank you, Dhani that means a great deal to me. I don't think I've ever had a good friend like you." She leaned in and embraced her friend. "And if we are now truly done with the subject of me, I would like to say something as well." Her eyes twinkled.

Dhanis eyes narrowed on the woman, "Sure, go on then." she said as she leaned back in her chair, "Just don't do a Kimberly and I'll be at your wedding." she added as a caution.

"Uhm, a Kimberly?" Bran asked. That was a very easy opening.

Dhanishta gave her a look of contempt. She was sure that Bran knew why she wasn't talking to Kimberly, well part of it at least? "I know that I have issues," Dhani began, "but I don't like being forced to do something. If I have a problem that I *want* to talk about, I'll find someone, hell there are almost 30 registered counselors on this ship, its not like there isn't anyone to listen." she told her indigently, "I don't like being preached at by someone that doesn't acknowledge their own faults, and I especially don't like being dragged into a counselors office and listen to my 'friend' as she details things that I have told her in confidence as a friend or as a professional, hell even made up crap that she has absolutely no proof of.." Dhani paused and gave Bran a sheepish smile realizing that her voice had risen during that speech.

"Uhm, I really don't know. I told you I haven't talked to Kimberly in ages because she avoids me. And to be honest I agree with you. Therapy only helps if somebody wants to be helped. And the helper doesn't have to be a therapist. A good friend can help just as well, like you did with me. To be honest I have been worried about you for a while now, but I know that I have to wait until you come to me or someone else to help you. You are not the kind of person to push and I won't, okay?" She knew that Dhani with her gifts could read that she was speaking the truth. That she found it difficult, but would stick to her promise.

Dhanishta nodded, "That's as it should be." she replied giving nothing else away. She sighed and fiddled with her glass, titling it from side to side, watching the liquid swirl inside. The topic had turned to her now and it made her uncomfortable. After a long pause she looked up at Bran, "What worries you, Bran, about me?" Dhani asked taking a sip of her drink so Bran could not see her expression. Bran wasn't a telepath but she had been trained to read signals, body language and such, in some cases they were an even match? that was annoying!

Branwen was silent for a little while, not sure how much to share. Then she looked at Dhani. "I will be honest with you. A few days ago when I was looking for you I bumped into your sister. We talked, and she is worried as well. Nope, she didn't tell me really personal stuff, so don't get angry at her. And I am telling you this so you know I am honest with you. Kimberly also is a good shrink, even if she is a bit pushy sometimes for my taste, but regrettably she is often right. So yeah, I do worry about you. But I won't go into it if you don't want to. I am not pushing, Dhani."

Dhanishta waved off the pushy comments with a brisk flick of her hand, "Specifics Branwen. What exactly are you worried about, or for?" she asked, "What have I done, or said, to make you feel that way?"

"Alright, alright. It is more a hunch that something is off. You have been working long hours, lots of overtime, and you haven't done much else but work and sleep and spend some time with Michael. I know you have been through a lot lately yourself and I am afraid you are avoiding dealing with it." she said honestly.

Dhanishta concealed the smile on her lips behind the beverage, she had nothing, they had nothing? she wasn't perceived, at least to Branwen, to be a total head case. She nodded slowly and took a sip of her drink which turned into a long draught. Setting the emptied glass on the table she shrugged. "Want another?" she asked indicating Brans half emptied glass.

"Thank you. You seem happy. Glad I don't have any evidence on you?" Bran suggested. "Hon it doesn't work that way. You are the one who has to come for help if you want to. I can't do that work for you. Just know there are some people on this ship that do worry about you."

~You won't when you find out~ a voice cooed instantly, "Thanks Bran, but like you said, I have to want help, and I don't." she said handing the glass to Bran offering her an apologetic half smile, "Thanks though?" she added softly, regret lacing her eyes.

"Hey if you change your mind you know were to find me, day or night." Bran saw something in her friend's eyes and it was tearing at her, she almost said more but that wouldn't help, it would only undo the good work she had just done. "For now we will be friends and I hope we can spend some more time together just relaxing, girlfriend."

"Now I'll drink that that!" Dhani replied with a smile, clinking her glass against Branwens, "Bottoms up!" she said raising it up before downing the contents.

"Nathan and Eve"

featuring:

Lieutenant Nathan "Cowboy" Everett
Lieutenant J.G. Valentina "Eve" Kyznetsova

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

The ship was halfway to the Cluster. Things were running along smoothly, the embedded journalistic crew was being the usual pain in the posterior, and Valentina was out hunting. She had a specific prey in mind, and even without the computer's guidance she had an idea as to where to find him.

In the forward lounge trying to book a room with someone else (females only please) so as to avoid his annoying roommate.

"What?" Cowboy asked the Trill woman as she stood up from her seat and walked off, shaking her head. "C'mon, Ah've never even met yer sister!" He paused, thinking about it, before calling after her once more. "Wait, what'd you say yer last name was again?"

He sighed and turned to face the bar again, propping himself up with an elbow and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "This just isn't mah day," he muttered as he lifted his glass and took a deep drink.

Valentina stepped in through the starboard entrance in time to witness the little outburst and the trill's exit out the port side. "LT Esima Pax is .... not interested in *men*," she said, stepping up quietly behind Cowboy. Nodding to the barkeep and flashing three fingers, she sat down beside the pilot. A glass of pineapple juice showed up moments later.

Nathan blinked at the newcomer, but he quickly put a smile on his face when he recognized her. "Well, hello, Sleepin' Beauty," he said, chuckling quietly as he leaned back in his seat. "Long tahm, no see."

Val blushed a little at the reference to that evening the week before. "I wanted to get back to you about that, to thank you, but I've been kinda busy."

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it," the pilot said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It wasn't a problem."

"Well I was rather drunk that night," she admitted, taking a sip of her juice and enjoying the strong bite it always had. "When I woke up, still on the couch and my clothes in one piece .... " She shrugged and gave him a smile. The rest didn't need to be spoken.

He nodded. "Ah'm a lotta things, darlin', but Ah'm not the kinda guy who'd take advantage of someone in that situation."

"I've come to understand that when it comes to certain things, you'd be the man to see," Val started, rather cryptic and secretive like.

"Uh...yeah, Ah s'pose so," Nathan responded, looking rather perplexed as he took a sip of his drink. "Ah mean, if you were lookin' to learn how to fly, Ah'd be the guy to ask..."

"Well," Val started, then paused, blushing. "I ....you see .... " Val stuttered and stumbled for the next several seconds, trying to figure out how to put her request, the blush rising hotter on her cheeks.

He looked at her, an eyebrow rising in amusement as he smiled. "What, is knowin' how to fly a taboo in Intelligence'r somethin'?" he wondered, lifting his glass to take another sip.

Valentina took a deep breath, ignored the heat of her cheeks, leaned in, and whispered in Cowboy's ear.

Nathan smiled a little bit and finished his drink, calmly setting it down on the bar. He looked at Valentina again, taking a moment to make sure that she was serious, before finally nodding. "Lahk you said, darlin', you came to the right man."

Val nodded, downing the rest of her juice as well. "When would you be able to start teaching me," she asked.

He laughed then, a quiet, good-natured laugh, and shrugged at her. "Ah'm free tonight..."

"Would 1800 be a good time?"

"Sounds perfect. Ah'll meet you then."

***

Valentina was ready for him at the appointed time. All notifications (short of Saul) would be stored for later review, she'd informed those that needed to know that she would be taking care of personal business and didn't want to be disturbed tonight. All that was left was for Cowboy to show up and they could begin their training.

She didn't have to wait long. At 1800 hours on the dot, Nathan stepped through the doorway. Now that he was off-duty, he had exchanged his uniform for a comfortable dark blue shirt and black pants. When he saw Valentina waiting for him, he gave her a smile. "You ready?" he asked.

Valentina was wearing a relatively close fitting pair of gray pants with a white t-shirt. Why she chose those specific items she didn't know, but they seemed appropriate, at least to start off with. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said, nodding in response to his question. The quivering in her voice was detectable, revealing her nervousness about the situation.

Nathan's smile softened a little bit, and he stepped further inside, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Alright, first lesson: relax. Yer not gonna learn anythin' if yer all nervous."

Valentina nodded, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths, steadying herself. Her heart was racing, to be sure, and at this close proximity she was sure he could hear it pounding. "Ok, what's next," she asked, opening her eyes. Her voice was much more calm and level this time.

He shook his head, and smiled again as he stepped closer, slowly reaching his other hand up and carefully brushing some of Valentina's hair back behind her ear, and looked down into her eyes. "Lesson number two: when you want somethin', don't hesitate."

He leaned down then, his eyes closing as his lips gently brushed her own. He felt her trembling breath against his skin, before he finally pressed his lips to hers, his arm slowly wrapping around Valentina's waist as he kissed her.

Valentina looked him in the eyes, her own wide open as he neared. The brush of his lips against hers sent a shiver running up her spine. With his lips pressed firmly against hers and his arm pulling her close, the girl very nearly melted into his embrace. She closed her eyes and slid her hands to his back, holding him to her.

Nathan lowered his other arm, both his hands settling at the small of Valentina's back as he pulled her close to him, their bodies molding together. His kisses became more urgent as she pulled him closer, and he started guiding her away from the door, both of them still locked together as they moved across Valentina's quarters and into her bedroom.

***

When Valentina awoke, she wasn't alone. Arms were wrapped comfortably around her waist, a pleasantly warm chest pressed against her back. She could feel his breathing on her neck, warm. She felt relaxed, comfortable. Content. And it wasn't just the sex either, but she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.

It wasn't much longer before her companion awakened. There was a sudden intake of breath, and he pulled away from her just slightly as he looked around, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Finally, as if realizing where he was, he smiled and pulled himself close to her again. "Good mornin'," he said as he wrapped his arms around her again, his lips placing a gentle kiss on the back of her neck.

"Mmm, morning Nate," Val replied. They lay there together for some time, simply enjoying the silence. "I almost don't want to get up," she finally said. "You're too comfortable to want to go to work."

He laughed at that. "Ah'll take that as a compliment," he told her. His fingertips slowly teased the smooth skin of Valentina's flat stomach for a few quiet moments, and then he spoke again at last. "So...any questions?" he asked with a grin.

"Well .... are you single?" It was meant more as a joke, but Val deadpanned it just enough that it could be taken quite seriously.

The deadpanning was more than enough to catch Nathan off guard. "Well...yeah," he said slowly, hesitant, his hands stopping what they were doing. "Ah wouldn't be here if Ah wasn't."

Val giggled, turning to look at him, her eyes telling him that she was teasing him a bit. "I know," she said, rolling over in his arms to face him. "But I'd like it if you said you weren't." Silent was the 'anymore' after her statement, and she leaned in, kissing him.

Nathan started to kiss her back before the full implications of what Valentina said hit him. When they did, he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes widening a little. "Oh," he said, blinking as he tried to think of something better to say.

"Uh...well..."

So far, he wasn't coming up with anything.

Val looked into his eyes and brought a hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. She waited patiently for his answer, not prodding or enticing, but rather allowing him to come to it naturally.

Nathan winced inwardly. They'd had a fantastic time together the night before, and he did like Valentina, and he really didn't want to hurt her feelings, but...

He sighed. "Ah really am sorry, darlin', but Ah'm not sure Ah'm ready to get into another relationship right now," he said honestly. "And you really don't wanna be with someone lahk me, Ah mean...just ask anyone else. Besides, sex really isn't the best thing to base a relationship on."

~Or so they say,~ he added mentally.

Val nodded, on some level understanding what he was saying. She lay snuggled in his arms, thinking for a bit. "You know, studies have shown that in many cases, relationships based around something else usually end up staying together for the sex, and vice versa." She looked up into his eyes. "Besides, what is it about you that other's would have me avoid?"

He looked away, not wanting to look into her eyes just now. "Ah'm not the best guy to get involved with," he answered. "You'd be better off with someone more stable. Ah've never adjusted well to bein' with just one woman."

Psychological study was one of the courses Intel officers had to take. With her hand on his chin she gently turned his face back towards hers. "Well, I'd like to try. If things don't work, no hard feelings. Besides, I don't think you've heard about my unique history, so I'll let you in on a little secret, if you'd like to know." There was a twinkle in her eyes, a small smile tugging at the ends of her lips.

"What's that?"

"Well, if you look at it the right way, I'm three women rolled into one." She knew an explanation of her history would be in order to fully understand that one.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Whadya mean by that?"

"Well, it has more to do with the various personalities I've exhibited as a result of the memories and experiences available to me at the time," she began. "There was Eve, with a sort of artificial-ish demeanor. I was always saying "I'm a optimal performance levels" instead of "I feel fine" and things like that. Then there was the original me. A 17th century Russian girl who had no clue how she got to where she is today. And then there's me, an amalgamation of the two, separate identities."

"The best of both worlds," he said with a smile, reaching up and brushing a lock of hair away from her face.

Val blushed a little, nodding. She was just about to open her mouth to say something when the computer chirped. Silence ensued, and when she opened her mouth again, music came blaring out of the speaker system - 'Beautiful Life' by Ace of Base. Val's cheeks turned a brighter shade of crimson than she'd ever believed possible, embarrassment freezing her in place.

Nathan's eyebrows went up, and he looked at Valentina, smiling at first, then beginning to laugh. "Ah think that's yer wakeup call," he said through his laughter.

She nodded, her blush fading a little, his laughter helping little with that department. "I know, I forgot to change it," she said, burying her face in his chest.

He continued to laugh, patting Valentina's arm reassuringly. "Computer, turn off that godawful music," he finally said, his laughter dying with the music. He looked at her again and shook his head. "We should prob'ly get up before it decides to play somethin' else."

Pushing off the covers slowly, Val stretched and slid out of the bed. She looked over her shoulder to Nathan, asking in a small, meek voice, "would you join me for a shower at least?"

Nathan watched her get up, taking a moment to admire her form. Finally he climbed out of the bed, coming up behind her. "Lesson number three, darlin'..." he said as he wrapped his arms around Valentina's waist and gave her a kiss. "Never ask silly questions lahk that."

He grinned and then let her go, looking back at her as he made his way to the shower. "Well, you comin'r what?"

The shower was just as refreshing as she imagined it would be.

off: takes place before 'Surprise Dinner'

"Getting Back to Duty"

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Cmdr. Arel Smith, apc

****

USS Galaxy
Captain's Ready Room

"Reporting as ordered, Captain," Arel Smith said as she entered the room.

"Please, have a seat, Commander," Daren said, indicating a chair. "This isn't a dressing down."

Arel took her seat. She had little doubt of why she had been called. The war was on and all officers would be needed. She only hoped the Captain had the good sense to put her back in Security. Arel had done what Jordan had suggested - followed new opportunities which had in turn lead her to the Galaxy - but she knew in her heart that she was a security officer and not a leader.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, rising with an empty coffee mug in hand. "Coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee would be fine," Arel said. "Black."

"One black coffee," Daren nodded. He keyed in the commands, and brought her a steaming cup before settling behind his desk. "How are you doing - aside from the obvious, that is? Are you comfortable here on Galaxy?"

"Comfortable enough," She replied. "And ready to get back to duty." Arel knew she should wait, should be diplomatic about the whole thing but... "I want Security."

Daren nodded. "Understood. The problem is, Commander, that with your time in grade you outrank my current Security Chief. Placing you there would, of necessity, require me to either demote him, making him your second; transfer him off-ship; or demote you to circumvent that. Considering that we're in the opening stages of a war, I'm loath to do either of the first two, since the department would suffer, both operationally and in terms of morale as they struggled to shift from his command style to yours. I'm equally loath to demote you for no reason at all, even assuming that I could get Fleet Command to agree with it - which I can't." He sipped at his coffee. "Which leaves me in a bit of a quandary."

"I don't care about position or rank. Just put me where I'm useful."

"Spoken like the person that Jii recommended to me," Daren nodded. "All right, then, I have two propositions for you. One, I inform Starfleet Command that you're available for transfer which will, in all likelihood, result in your being placed as XO on a ship of the line, and place you on the track to a command of your own."

Arel frowned.

"Two... two, I offer you the position of Strategic Operations Liaison aboard the Galaxy."

That piqued her interest. "Liaison to the Klingons I take it?"

"Yes," Daren nodded. "They haven't stepped up to send assistance yet - or word that they have hasn't trickled down to me, anyway - but they will. And I need someone that understands them to help get the most out of their assistance." He sipped at his coffee again. "And you are uniquely qualified to do that."

"Yes," She agreed.

"I can also assure you that you'll be working with someone you know; assuming, of course, that he accepts my offer."

"Who?"

"Commander Jaal Jaxom. I offered him the position of Strategic Operations Officer - which, incidentally, will free you from the paperwork side of the job if he accepts."

"You've just become my favorite person, Captain," Arel said with a small smile. "When can I start?"

"Your office will be available in..." Daren checked a readout on his desk LCARS. "...seven hours. Since you have family, if you accept we'll be moving you to a larger set of quarters so that your son can come aboard. Those quarters will be ready in... thirteen minutes." He looked up. "You retain all rank and seniority, of course."

She could give a shit about that. "What do you think about children onboard during wartime, Captain?"

Daren paused, set his coffee cup down, and let the memories of his fears at Wolf 359, the sense of loss following it, and all the empty years since then flow through him. "I think that you should keep the ones that you love close to you whenever possible, Commander. Life is too short to be separated from them and the light and love that they bring into your life." He smiled a bit sadly. "I didn't always think that way, of course, but I do now. Call it the... wisdom of age."

"I don't know this ship," Arel said slowly. "Maybe when I do ... I think Korvin would like it."

"I imagine that he will," Daren agreed. "But I think he'll like it more because he'll be with you."

"Thank you, Sir," She replied. "Is there anything else?"

"No, I think that covers everything, Commander. Do *you* have any questions?"

"How strictly do you follow Federation protocols, Sir? Sometimes when dealing with Klingons ..."

Daren had to suppress a rueful smile. "You haven't really read many mission files from Galaxy's history, have you?"

"No, I haven't."

"They're... interesting reading," Daren sighed. "Not much like what they tell you about in the Academy." He leaned back. "Regulations are there for a reason, Commander. Try to follow them... but if you have to - to use a phrase a former shipmate was fond of - 'go off the reservation,' then make sure you can explain why you did." He considered that statement for a moment, and then added, "It helps if you succeed too."

"Ah," She said. "Well, then I have no more questions."

"Good." He set his coffee down and stood to extend a hand. "Welcome to Galaxy, Commander."

"Candy and Concussions"

Lieutenant Nathan Everett
Commander Arel Smith, apc

===

"Alright, what's yer problem?" Nathan demanded as he blocked a strike that, ninety-nine percent of the time, he probably shouldn't have. He wrapped his fingers around Arel's outstretched arm and used her momentum to pull her around and slam her down on the floor, pinning her with a knee.

"Seriously, Arel, yer movin' almost as slow as Ah did when we first started doin' this," he added with a shake of his head. And given how slow Nathan used to be, that was *not* a compliment. "You got somethin' on yer mind?"

"Caramels," She said grudgingly.

"Huh?" Cowboy asked, his blue eyes blinking in confusion.

"Caramels, okay? I was thinking about candy."

"Why the hell're you thinkin' 'bout candy? Shouldn't you be focused on punchin' mah mouthy, devilishly handsome face in?"

Arel narrowed her eyes. "Someone's been trying to "hook me up" with Jaxom, sending candy, poetry, romantic crap."

Nathan stared down at her, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Suddenly he grinned. "Someone's tryin' to get you and Commander Spotty together?" He laughed. "What channel's this on? Ah've been lookin' fer somethin' new to watch on Tuesdays."

"Oh shut up and get off me."

Cowboy grinned. "Ah dunno, Ah think Ah'll take a moment to savor this. Ah doubt Ah'll have you down lahk this again any time soon."

"Savor away," She said sweetly. "Every second I remain like this is how many times I'm going to kick your balls in."

"Right," Nathan said, quickly getting off of Arel and helping her to her feet.

"It's actually not so bad. Gives me something to think about other than Korvin."

The pilot quirked an eyebrow. "So you've been enjoyin' the tahm you two've been spendin' together, then?"

Arel looked at him suspiciously. "You haven't heard anything about this, right?"

He raised his hands defensively, his face the picture of innocence. "'Course not!" he replied. "On mah oath as a man who'd lahk to continue livin' with full function in both his legs."

She frowned but then gave a large shrug. "Okay, next lesson. Stick out your arm."

He reluctantly stuck out his arm.

She quickly had him slammed against a wall, his arm twisted painfully behind him. "That lesson was 'don't be an idiot'. Now, how many people are in this little conspiracy?"

"Oww," Nathan grunted painfully, his face pressed into the wall. "Ah don't know what yer talkin' about!" he added, trying to wriggle out of the woman's grip.

"I don't believe you," Arel snarled. "Convince me or I'm going to dislocate your arm."

"Ah'd really appreciate it if you didn't."

"And I'd appreciate the truth."

Nathan struggled some more, wincing as his shoulder burned with pain. "Let go of me before Ah get mad," he growled.

"You get mad? The day you get mad is the day ... Oomph!"

Before she could finish speaking, Nathan's elbow hammered into Arel's gut. Taking advantage of her being distracted, he wrenched his arm out of her grip and whirled around with surprising quickness.

He grabbed Arel by the back of her neck and flung her against the same wall, twisting her arm behind her own back. Before either of them realized what was happening, their positions had been reversed.

"Ah warned you," Nathan said, his usually jovial eyes narrowed in fury. "That hurt."

She grunted slightly, expelling a breath while she carefully rolled her shoulder and then her head to one side to crack her neck. She'd definitely underestimated that one. "That's a good move. You should get pissed more often."

"Glad you approve," he muttered as he let go of Arel and backed away, wiping some sweat off of his brow. "Ah didn't mean to flip lahk that, though. You alright?"

Nothing her medkit couldn't handle if needed, she thought. "Of course. If you really want to cause some damage next time though, go for the windpipe."

He grinned at that. "But if Ah crushed yer windpipe, then Ah wouldn't get to hear that lovely voice of yers."

"That's okay, Cowboy," She said with an evil grin. "I'd just borrow yours."

Nathan eyed her for a moment before laughing. "You are one scary bitch, y'know that?"

Her smile this time was genuine. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

"Ah knew you'd warm up to me eventually."

"I'm still going to kick your ass when I find proof that your behind this set up with me and Jaal."

He rolled his eyes. "Keep searchin', darlin', yer not gonna find anythin'." He turned away from her and walked back into the middle of the room, smiling slyly as he did so.

When he reached the center, he turned towards Arel again and got back into position, the smile gone from his face. "Ready to go another round?"

"Definitely."

"Sleepover"

1st Lt. Branwen London
Marine Captain Man'darr Maivia

The two marine officers stepped out into his quarters after visiting the doctor. The two had made the trip from the Sickbay to his quarters in silence. "What is your problem, Branwen?" Man'darr asked, crossing his arms and turning to face her as soon as they entered his quar ters.

"What is my problem? You were rude in there, the doctor is only trying to help." She faced back.

"And you were making me turn out as if I do not care anything for you other than you simply mate with you."

“I am sorry, that was not what I was trying to say. But I know how important it is for you. “ She tried to explain.

"It is true you being able to mate, carry, and concieve a child is important to me and most Capellans would reject you as a mate because of it. But...I am not a typical Capellan. I was not raised on Capella...I was raised on Earth. I know you can be healed...but you matter much to me and it is hurtful that you believe that I only care about mating."

Branwen was quiet for a while. "You know, you are absolutely right. I was not thinking straight, the only thing going through my mind was my fear of losing you, because of you being capellan. I did not think about your feelings." Tentatively she came closer. "May I hold you?"

"Of course," he replied as he took her into his arms.

Relieved, she stepped into his arms and held him tight. "I'm so scared you were leave me if I am dysfunctional, sorry for only thinking about myself. This must be hard for you as well." Branwen nestled against his broad chest.

"Yes, it is," he admitted as he held her. Her warmth and touch felt good and was rather relaxing. "Besides, until you get healed, we can still please one another physically."

“We can’t have sex.’ She whispered. “do you want to postpone the wedding?” She asked. “So we can have sex on our wedding night?”

"There are other ways to have physical pleasure without having sex, Branwen. I will leave the postponing decision up to you. Do what you believe is best," he replied sincerely.

“I would like to get married as soon as possible.” She whispered kissing him. “If you are truly happy with it. You are honest with me now, aren’t you?”

Man'darr returned Branwen's kiss. "I made a promise to you, Branwen and I intend to honor that promise. And as a Capellan, my words always hold truth especially with you, Branwen."

"You are a special." She felt safe next to him. Then she looked up at him. "You truly think I am beautiful, don't you?"

Raising an eyebrow at her, "of course I do. Why do you ask?"

"Because of a conversation I had with Dhani the other day. She thinks I am beautiful, I think I am plain. I thought you were just saying I am beautiful because you love me, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So I was not saying that you were lying." She added playfully.

"I promised her I would think about the possibility that I'm truly beautiful."

"You are beautiful, Branwen. I think sometimes you place too much thought into things. Just take them for what they're worth," he replied before kissing her passionately.

Biting down a giggle she kissed him back. Only minutes later did they come up for air. “I don’t place too much tought in it at all. I was happy feeling plain. It’s others that seem to make a problem of it.”

"Its not a problem, Branwen. You are simply a beautiful woman. That is not a problem."

“Hmmm I like it when you tell me that, over and over. ‘ She giggled as she kissed him again. “You are beautifull as well, Dar. Inside and out.”

Man'darr was silent for a moment. Many things had been used to describe him, but beautiful had never been one of them. "Thank you."

“You are.” She giggled, tickling him.

Laughing, he instantly picked Branwen up and onto his shoulder before tossing her lightly onto the nearby sofa. He lept over onto her, careful to keep his weight off of her as he pinned Bran's wrists above her head to the sofa with his hand. "No tickling,' he said with a large grin.

“Oh big boy can’t handle tickling?” She teased him. “A big marine like you.” She tried to free her hands to do it again.

"Lets see how you like it," he said with a chuckle as he began to tickle Branwen's exposed side.

“No!” She squeeked, “Don’t, I…..” She broke down in fits of giggles.

Man'darr continued his 'attack' on Branwen, laughing at her fits of laughter.

"No please, mercy.” She hiccupped. “I can’t take anymore, please, it hurts.” She giggled some more.

"Very well," he replied. Man'darr finally stopped as he grinned down at Branwen before kissing her softly.

She lay against him totally spend, but happy, the first time in days she had been truly happy, and all because of him. In that moment she was 100 percent certain Dar was the guy for her

Running his hand through her hair, Man'darr kissed her forehead. Branwen had been through alot the past few days and he knew she needed his support. "So, how are the plans coming along for the ceremony?"

"Slowly. I've got so much overwork right now." Dar knew she was working with the Marines, preparing them all to deal with the reactions of the colonists. As she did it in really small groups, making sure all the Marines were well-prepared it took her a long time. "I am really beat! I should work on the preparations tonight."

"No, take your time and relax. The detachment will be ready when we arrive," he stated, looking at her.

“They aren’t. This is not the kind of mission they are used to. It takes a lot of preparation, Dar.” She said.

“Say have you found a shrink already?”

Man'darr had always found it humerous that Branwen used the word shrink to describe others of her profession instead of counselor. "No, I haven't...and yes, they will be ready, Branwen. You are worrying too much and working too hard.

“Nah, not really, I only worked like….. uhm….. so you should really look into that you know.” She teased him.

"Look into what? I am already seeing a shrink," he teased back.

"That's fun!" She hit him in the side gently. "And you promised!" Branwen pouted a little bit.

"I will when time permits. Lately, I have been swamped with inventories and readiness reports for the upcoming mission."

"For this once I will accept that excuse, because I'm very busy myself as well, they might not even have time for you now. But after the mission you are going." Branwen told him firmly.

"I said I will go and I will go when I have the time, Branwen. Lets try this once not to argue." Man'darr felt mentally exhausted and the last thing he wanted to do was argue or think about work.

“Dar.” She said softly looking up at him. "Can I stay tonight, can you just hold me and keep me safe. I don't want to argue either, and I have a lot of process. I would like to be with you to do it."

Looking at her, he smiled. "Of course you may stay."

“Thank you.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “Did you look into getting different quarters yet?”

"No, not yet, but I will try to tommorow," he stated before kissing her softly as he hnads slowly moved up and down her body, tracing her curves. He was enjoying her presence and the feel of her laying against him.

Bran settled against him on the couch, her eyes slowly closing. It was not that late but it had been an eventfull day and suddenly she was totally exhausted.

After a few moment of complete silence, Man'darr lifted Branwen up into his arms and carried her into his bedroom, laying her softly onto his more comfortable bed.

She moaned a little bit, still half asleep. "Join me." She whispered.

"Very well," he said as began to remove his uniform, stripping down to his boxers before joining Branwen in bed, wrapping his arms around her.

She pulled his arms around her. "You feel safe." Branwen mumbled before falling asleep again.

Past the Green Line

Aina Mason, Midshipman - Communications Officer, USS Galaxy

It was just past twenty three thirty (eleven thirty p.m. for those who can't think in military time) and the night was cold, the wind had a chill from the huge expanse of water only a couple of kilometres away. Aina stifled a yawn as Lieutenant Greg Jansen of the USS Nightview slid open the map computer case.

Holding the two edges, the shiny plastic like material of the map made a slight curve, before he placed it against the side of the troop transport. The plastic glinted in the light of the external lights of the transport and with a flick of his hand, the plastic came alive with a satellite view of Ancibel Colony, a colony on the coast of the biggest landmass on Delta Pavonis Three. A split second later, the map added the roads and known landmarks for the area.

"Midshipman Mason - you will take your unit down to the village of Ari S'chencal," ordered Jansen. Taking a stylus, the lieutenant drew a green shape around the village, "This is your area of operations. The shuttles will meet at position thirty three nineteen..." He drew a simple 'x' on the map as it indicated the position, "at oh thirty, to take the colonists to Ari Cenyo Spaceport. This is the last area and will be transported to the convoy on time - is that understood?"

"Yes sir," she returned as she nodded, she was worried, tired and cold and the roof of her mouth felt like old fashioned corrugated cardboard.

Jansen looked at the young female officer, "Remember, I want confirmation of this area being evacuated before the deadline of oh one hundred hours."

Getting on to the transport, with a knot in her stomach that she was leading a unit of petty officers and ordinary crewman and a group of marines, the three armed transports headed out to Ari S'Chencal, a small community of six hundred people and it was her job to get all of the colonists out of their homes. But there was a problem...

With the transports heading to the village, she watched as the marker of her small convoy moved past Jansen's green line. As she considered her options that she had available to her, on the short journey, a crewman called out and Aina looked up to see a number of civilian vehicles blocking the road, out front of them were a number of diplomatic vehicles with the symbol of the Federation or Starfleet on the sides On some of them, were a number of hastily painted symbols of a triangle with inverted triangles within it. The symbol was familiar, but Aina couldn't remember it. There were a number of marines in fatigues, but they were out numbered by the number of people in civilian clothing and Starfleet duty uniforms.

As the transport slowed to a stop, an older woman - Commander Janice Baker walked over, she concentrated her attention on Aina who bent under the door of the transport, as it swung up, to head out.

Yes, there was a problem - the commander here was a part of a team of FedAid sent ahead earlier today, the FedAid was the carrot, to help the colonists prepare and leave. There were counsellors and physicians, nurses and plenty of strong hands to help in the packing - to try and make it easier for the villagers of Ari S'Chencal to leave. To leave their houses and lifestyles and to many of them, to most of them, the place they called home for all of their lives. Behind the blockade of cars was a large group of people, they were singing - men and women had tears rolling down there faces. Men were consoling their wives, woman were trying to quieten their children and some of the younger children were showing a maturity and understanding far beyond their age, that many of their elders would not notice for a few days yet, by simply hugging their parents and doing what was told of them.

In the glare of one of the lights of the transport, was writing in the local flowing script on the wall of an abandoned house, it read - "This is the home of Goran Frez'Chenkya. Remember, remember the name of the home that you destroyed, invader!" In the dim glow of a street lamp, she could read the writing on the wall of another house, "You have killed me, you have destroyed me. Finish the job - make sure that there is nothing left of this place, Purist."

Aina frowned at the last one, 'Purist' and with the painted symbols on the vehicles, she finally recognised the symbol of the Forth World Military and the man who controlled it, Colonel Phillip Green, the man that caused World War Three. He was considered the most coldest of the genocidal killer's in Terra's History and 'Purist' was the term to describe his eco-terrorist murderers who would do his bidding.

Yes, there was a problem with the whole situation - because it meant the Aina was to be the stick. She was here to kick people from their homes, to destroy their livelihoods, to leave them with nothing but what they could carry.

Yes there was a problem. She couldn't help but feel the sadness in the village, it moved over her like a wave. A lump was forming in her throat and she had to swallow a number of times to get rid of it. With a blink of her eyes and the heel of her hands rubbing her eyes, any hint of tears had been rubbed away.

"Midshipman Mason?" asked Commander Baker

"Yes Ma'am," Aina returned.

"We've had a good run, we have only about a hundred a fifty stay behind and they've been mostly peaceful...except for this one and her supporters," the voice of Commander Baker went quiet as a woman came up from the group, she had two people come up with her. Baker gave Aina a quick encouraging smile, before she turned back to the approaching woman, "Midshipman Mason - this is Enjuita Celzchianya."

Aina turned to the woman, "Hello Ser Celzchianya..."

Before Aina could finish her greeting, the woman gave her a look of distaste, "They send children now - and what are you to do girl?"

Aina gave a quick unsure smile, "To help make sure that all of Ari S'Chencal have left before the deadline. We want to make this as painless as possible, so would you please help with that?" One of the first things Lieutenant Jansen of the Nightview said was try to get the active leaders, the dissidents at least listening to you.

"Why should I help you, Purist?" returned the woman.

"I am not a Purist, and I don't believe in anything of the dictates of Green, Ser Celzchianya. Starfleet is here to evacuate the planet. The Hydrans have been aggressive, taking Federation space and we are very worried about the lives of every person here. We have a fleet of ships to take you to safety. If you leave now, the Federation will be paying compensation for any loss of income and property."

There was a woman on the other side of Celzchianya, "Do you think money will be payment for what you come here to steal from us?"

"No..." Aina started but before she could continue the man to Celzchianya's side called out, "And where is this planet - Safety?" He laughed at his joke. "You come here to kick us out. And you will be cursed by the Fates for your action. In the time of the Fates, you will be bought to trial. You will have to face what you do here."

Celzchianya nodded, "Will this be something that you tell your children? Will you be happy girl, to tell your grandchildren that you made good honest people leave their homes."

"The Hydrans have made very aggresive actions and we must make sure you are all safe," even to Aina the story was starting to get a little weak. On the ship, it seemed to make all of the sense in the world. But here and now...

"I know the story you tell - if it was true, then why don't the Federation stay here and defend our homes. Is that not what we pay all our money to. Money that we see leave our planet and nothing come back."

She wasn't the best in dealing with people, and her mind raced to try and work out what to do, "I'm sorry that we have to do this. Please, I would not like it if I had to leave my home like this, either. I would be sad as well..."

Celzchianya almost snarled, "What have you got to be sad about little girl? You are...what...sixteen? I have lived here for more than forty years, the Hydrans have always been just over there. The Dreyshayans are more of a threat then the Hydrans and they have caused much trouble, but we never see the Federation do anything about them."

"Now, the Hydrans wave a few arms and the Federation now comes in, to take us from our lands - for our safety, or maybe that want to give the Hydrans a present." she laughed, a harsh laugh.

"Leave us here Federation, leave us here. If the Hydrans do come, then I will have defended my home. Or would you run from your planet, Bajoran?"

Aina was surprised at that comment, considering it was a curse she heard from a lot of Bajorans, they always seem to consider her the traitor. But Aina couldn't help but agree with some of what the woman said, shouldn't the Federation stay and fight, if the Hydrans come?

Before either side could comment, the woman on the other side of the man called out, "Midnight."

"Murderer - we may still be alive, but our souls will be destroyed by you tonight. We will be nothing but shells - and you will be the destroyer," Celzchianya shouted at Aina and with a final act of defiance, spat on Aina.

As Aina cleaned her face, she watched as the village as one, sat on the ground. In their faces was a look of wearied defiance. The old and the young sat, defiant and as the marines moved in, they just sat there, not moving. Each person had to be bodily lifted up and carried to a transport, the last act of a desperate group.

Aina could feel her own composure starting to break, tears started to trickle down her cheeck, her normal trick of thinking about the uniform she wore wasn't working. She could never be the stick, not like this, she could not destroy peoples lives like this, it was just wrong.

Suddenly Commander Baker's voice cut through her voice, "Freeze Program - Unload Scenario."

Around Aina who was trying to hold her composure, the village suddenly faded to the black and yellow squares of the holodeck. Where the villagers had been crowded, was a number of other low level officers and crewmen from the Galaxy. Commander Baker was talking with Lieutenant Jansen quietly for a few moments before she came over to Aina.

"Midshipman Mason, take a few minutes," Baker said quietly to her.

"No Ma'am, I'm ok," Aina returned.

Baker studied her for a few seconds, "If you are sure...head back to the rest."

As Aina walked back to the group, Jansen continued his lecturing. "With evacuations based on strategic reasoning is not always recognised by civilian populations. They see no catastrophe - no tidal wave, no earthquake, no nova - not even another race or power to be wary of. All they will see is you and you will be coming in to take their homes away from them. You are then the enemy, you become the invader. Midshipman Mason started well, she made an attempt to garner support from a leader. This was not the worst situation and it wasn't the most likely - but it is one that you will encounter. You will not be in charge of any units, but that does not mean that you don't keep your eyes or ears open. Consider what you saw here tonight, and what you might do. Because it might be you that might have to make a hard decision."

Commander Baker turned to the group, "Report back here at oh nine thirty."

A hand shot up from the group as a young crewman looked at Jansen, "What if the colonists become violent?"

Jansen gave a slight smile, "Pray that they don't. A couple of days before the deadlines, there will be the forward parties controlled by the FedAid Groups, some of you will be a part of those groups in helping the colonists pack. They will also contain people to ascertain what the groups maybe like and to those settled areas that may become violent, more experience negotiatiors will be sent. Our prime concern is these people safety."

"Why don't we defend..." Aina started, her voice still a little strained. She cleared her throat, "Why don't we defend the cluster?"

Baker gave a rueful smile, "Midshipman - there are many options to be considered and one of them is we don't have the ships to cover the border to the Hydrans as much as we like. The decision has been made that with the Vered Cluster so close to the border that the Hydrans could attack, before the Federation could respond in force. A lot of people will die, before any ships will have arrived."

"Then why don't we leave a ship here?" asked the same crewman as before.

"Because right now, we don't want to give the Hydrans any reason to start a war and a ship or ships large enough to cause the Hydrans to reconsider any ideas of invasion would be large enough for them to think the Federation wants to start the war," answered Baker.

"But the Hydrans have started it already," answered Aina. "What about all the people that the Hydrans killed on DS5?"

There was a moment of heavy silence, until Commander Baker spoke - "This situation is not about the Hydrans, it is about making sure that the colonists of Vered are safe. My job is to prepare all of you, to ensure that. Not only the colonist's safety but also your own. These types of situations are very sensitive and a single ill concieved action or word can cause catastrophic consequences for both sides. Let us leave the political arguing to the politicians who have the luxury to argue such things. I expect you when you are on the surface to remember that you are Starfleet! Not just officers or crew, but each one of you represents Starfleet. You have your orders. Dismissed people."

"The Weight -- Shared"

Cmdr. Brian Elessidil, Chief Counselor
Lt. Miramon Terrik, Counselor
Lt. Mark, Counselor
Lt. Branwen London, Marine Psychologist
Cpt. Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor, 10th Fleet

Counseling Center Conference Room, Deck 14

"Thanks for coming everyone, and thank you Captain Dallas for making time in your schedule to lend your assistance," Brian said, adding a nod in Karyn's direction. He continued around the table, handing out PADDs to everyone seated. "As you're probably aware by now, the Galaxy has been ordered to the Vered Cluster to help evacuate residents of the various colonies in the area. We'll be meeting up with a transport carrying a team of diplomatic and psychological specialists to help facilitate the task, but ultimately it's our crew that's going to be carrying the greatest burden of this. Our department's specific job will be to ensure that our crew is as prepared as possible for what they're being asked to do."

It was unusual for him to conduct a meeting standing up, but the truth was Brian was feeling a little tense about what was to come. Somehow, being able to move around a little helped alleviate some of that tension. Anyone who knew better knew this wasn't going to be an easy mission by any stretch of the imagination, and the challenge of trying to prepare a crew for looking out for the safety and welfare of the colonists, while at the same time dealing with all the negative reaction they were undoubtedly going to receive, weighed on his mind. The Galaxy's counselors were a capable group, but this was a very tall order. Handing the last PADD to Lt. London, Brian leaned his hands on the table, next to the empty chair he would have otherwise occupied. "I've compiled some information about the colonies, including some of their history and culture, to help familiarize us with what we'll be dealing with. Also, the captain is having each department come up with assignments for its personnel; once he compiles the final list and forwards it to me, I'll update you as well. At this point, I imagine that each of us will likely act in an advisory capacity for one or more teams, but that's not set in stone yet. I want to see first how the captain wants to distribute our people. Lieutenant," he said, turning first to Branwen, "you'll be primarily responsible for working with the marines of course, but I'll wait to assign the rest of us until I get the information from the captain."

Brian stood upright again, this time placing his hands on the back of his chair. "Okay, I guess I've said enough for now. Thoughts? Comments? Questions?"

"Just a question, sir." Branwen said, for now she had her personal turmoil firmly under control. It was a trick that she had learnt early, nobody here today could see her inner thoughts. "Usually my primary duties during missions are those of a marine platoon commander. But from what I understand it would be better if I ask the colonel to relieve me of those duties for this mission and function primarily as a counselor, correct?"

"I can't see why, Bran," Miramon noted in his usually calm tones. "We're evacuating these people, not going into battle, and the Marines will probably be involved in aiding the evacuees anyway. The two jobs aren't mutually exclusive, as far as I'm concerned."

The thought had actually crossed Brian's mind as well. "A lot of it depends on how Captain M'Kantu wants to distribute the teams. If the marines are assigned in their own groups, then you'll be working with them anyway. But if they're assigned to various teams with other members of the crew, then we could definitely use your help."

"I will talk to the colonel." Branwen said. "See if he knows already. If I can beam are useful as a Counselor this time, I'm sure he can spare me. But I will let you know, Commander." She promised.

Mark listened intently. No one it seemed was willing to state the obvious. "You know," he spoke up, "These colonists are just going to hate us for this. I don't think we should fool ourselves into thinking they'll go willingly. They've all worked very hard to get what they have today and we're coming to take all that away from them... from their point of view anyway."

"Which is exactly why our department's been tasked with preparing the rest of the crew," Brian responded. "They don't need us to tell them how do carry out the logistics, but many of them will need our help dealing with the affects this...ordeal...will have on the colonists and on them. We want to try to prepare them as much as possible for the range of reactions they're likely going to encounter. Some of the colonists will go willingly, even eagerly, but most won't. Our people have to be ready for that and understand how to deal with it without making an already bad situation a lot worse."

Miramon raised an eyebrow at that, but refrained from saying anything. Starfleet personnel, despite receiving huge amounts of thorough and costly training, were nonetheless not particularly expert at helping other people with their feelings. Too busy letting their own get mixed up into the whole melodrama themselves, as far as he was concerned. It was like watching the 24th Century equivalent of a very bad soap opera.

"I think we should avoid the optimistic aspect - yeah, they're alive, but that's no help to people being relocated without much choice in the matter. Sufficed to say, a lot of my people suffered that during the Cardassian Occupation, and to them, the world is literally ending. Trying to persuade the colonists that they can get that back elsewhere won't help - we have to make sure they are comfortable in their situation, but give them time to figure things out for themselves. If they need a shoulder to cry on, they'll reach out - we can't just walk over and flatly offer our advice to them."

"He's right," Elessidil added. "If any of the colonists come directly to us for help we don't want to ignore them, but let me make one thing clear: our first focus right now is getting our crew prepared for the task they've been given. No one on this ship is an expert in this kind of situation, not even anyone in this room," he said, looking to each of them as he walked. "But the captain expects us to apply our training as best we can to help everyone understand exactly what Miramon just said. Like it or not, the colonists are going to display a whole range of reactions and our people have to be as understanding and patient as far as is absolutely possible."

Branwen nodded, it made sense, and for her it was going to be a huge task. The marines we used to getting the hardest task and they were not as easily upset as most naval personnel. She had to make sure that they went gently on the colonists, and gave them as much time as possible. In her head she was already making up a plan to talk to each platoon individually to make sure they understood. And to call her in if in doubt.

"Just out of curiosity," Mark spoke up, "How much time do we have to get everyone out of the Vered system?"

"A couple weeks."

Karyn bit her lip and silently fingered the fourth pip on her collar. It had been months since her promotion, but it all still felt unreal to her, and she was still figuring out her place amongst the crew. She was happy to see Brian promoted and she was happy she was facing a new challenge, but it was weird being amongst the group in this capacity. "That's not long."

"No, it's not," Brian readily agreed. "Which just makes our assignment all the more difficult. For the duration, I want everyone to clear their schedule as much as possible. Keep your sessions with any particularly sensitive or critical patients, but try to re-schedule everything else until after this is over. I'm going to see if there's time for us to meet with some of the consultants the Federation's sent along aboard the Nightview. If they're not too tied up in their logistical planning they might have some helpful expertise to lend."

Branwen nodded while she made some notes, a lot of ideas were swirling in her mind already and she knew she was going to be very busy the coming couple of days.

"Research"

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara

*****
Deck 8
XO's Office

Iniara sighed, dropping the padd in her hands and turning back to her desktop console. "Computer. Display all information on the second planet in the Gamma Vered system."

"Working..."

When the information popped up a moment later she started at the top, skimming it in search of some relevant information. "Class M...oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere...axial tilt of 31 degrees...day is 26 hours long...year is 208.8 days long..."

"Hm." It was good information and all, but this wasn't really what she was looking for.

"Computer, display all information on colony New B'Hala located on planet Gamma Vered Two."

"Working..."

"This is more like it," she mumbled to herself, continuing to read. "Colony situated in tropical zone of northern hemisphere...summer hot, spring and fall pleasant, winter mild. Calendar has 209 days, every fifth year is a short year...year is broken up into eight months. Calendar year begins in fall, Gratitude Festival celebrated in the first week of the year...Time of Cleansing celebrated in the seventh month. Pretty standard stuff," she commented to the screen. "But how did *you* get here, Malik?"

Sinking into her chair she sighed deeply, staring at a random spot on the opposite wall of the small office. For years she'd wondered what had happened to that man, and now she knew. And, provided the Captain agreed to the plan which even now she was developing in her mind, she would see him very soon.

But in the meantime, she would need to do her research.

"Computer. Access history of New B'Hala, brief report. Play audio," she called out, gaze still focused on the nondescript wall paneling.

The computer chirrupped pleasantly, heralding the beginning of the report. "New B'Hala colony. Settlement began in Standard Year 2363 on second planet of Gamma Vered system. First colonists arrived in northern hemisphere's fall on Free Trader "Tomorrow's Revenge", captain: Thorin Malik, first officer: Ha'Mok son of K'Gahr. Colonists initially settled in a series of caves at edge of dominant mountain range on the continent. Trade with neighboring colonies supplemented colonists' provisions during the winter. Sec--"

"Computer, list the names of the first colonists."

Another chirrup. Then, "Bara, Adami. Bara, Janna. Fala, Sul. Fala, Aesino. Mika, Anton. Mika, Jolan. Mika, Reza. Oram, Ren. Thorin, Asha."

Iniara jumped slightly at the sound of the final name. "Asha..." She was to be--

"Please restate the request."

She frowned. Couldn't the computer be a bit more intelligent than that? This was the 24th century, after all...it should have known the difference between a request and simple idle chatter. "Argh... Continue audio."

"Second group of colonists arrived on Free Trader "Tomorrow's Revenge" one half solar year after first group. Group consisted of: Abino, Chaya. Abino, Falor. Abino, Keni. Abino, Laan. Akor, Alda. Akor, Talia. Anta, Taron. Kalem, Holsa. Mora, Landi. Solis, Sul. Tora, Pallra. Zayrin, Rez.

"Colonists continued to populate cave system. Temporary structures erected at mouth of cave system to increase liveable space. Near end of Colony Year 1, initial surveying of land begun by Fala Sul and Fala Aesino on area immediately to north of caves.

"Colony's central Bantaca spire erected in Colony Year 2, followed by surrounding square and first permanent buildings. Initial stage of colony built by: Kalem, Holsa. Oram, Ren. Solis, Sul. Tora, Pallra. Zayrin, Rez.

"Colonists formalize name and system of government before resettling in the new structures. They choose a system of pure democracy, overseen by three appointed Councilors. Colonists vote for their new leaders: Mika, Anton. Fala, Sul. Thorin, Malik. Thorin Asha chosen to represent her son until his return to colony."

"Pause audio," Iniara called out, causing the computer to chirrup once more before the silence resumed. Pushing herself out of her seat she stepped over to the replicator and ordered yet another mug of black coffee. She needed to think, if only for a moment. The information was a bit much to digest at first, especially considering that the man she thought she'd known, the one who she'd once accused of running away from his problems on Bajor to fly around space trading and smuggling Prophets only knew what had actually been smuggling refugees off the homeworld and to a new beginning halfway across the galaxy. And he'd apparently done such a good job of it that said refugees had actually voted him as one of their leaders when he hadn't even been around to accept the honor or even tell them that he wanted to be considered for the job in the first place.

"Curiouser and curiouser," she mumbled to herself, pacing slowly around the room. "Computer, compile a summary of major events in the colony from this point until the present day. Play audio."

Again the computer chirped before continuing on its merry way. "Colony Year 6: population of New B'Hala colony reaches fifty persons. Colony Year 11: Thorin Malik returns to colony and claims Councilor position. Colony Year 14: population reaches one hundred.

"Colony Year 21: largest influx of new colonists ever. One hundred three persons travel on Freighter "Hasperat Express", captain: Heler Talia, first officer: Sorvad Ren.

"Colony Year 24: native bacterial infection kills approximately one quarter of colony population. Among the deceased are founders Akor Talia and Fala Sul. Fala Aesino assumes control of newly vacated Councilor seat."

"Computer, pause." That name...Fala Aesino... The surname and name placement were classic Bajoran, but the given name was almost certainly not. "Computer. Give etymology of the name 'Aesino'."

"Aesino: common diminutive form of northern Andorian name Chethelaesino meaning "full moon over water". Aesino: Cardassian female given name meaning "unseen". Icino: name of an ancient seaport and city on ch'Rihan; occasionally used in Rihannsu formal naming scheme. Aecinio: uncommon Betazoid male given name meaning "brilliant". Sinio: Cairn given name..."

Iniara tuned out the computer's voice for a moment, repeating in her head the one bit of information that interested her. "Computer, who is Fala Aesino's mother?"

"Fala Aesino's mother was Fala Sul."

That much was obvious, but she had wanted to be sure. "And her father?"

"Cardassian soldier. Name and rank unknown."

So that was it. Aesino was a half breed. Which, of course, made the scenario that much more interesting. A colony of refugees and steadfast followers of the d'jarra willingly made a half-Cardassian their leader? Not likely, but...she'd seen stranger things.

And this was going to give her a headache if she thought too hard about it. But she had no other choice; if she was going to present a decent plan to M'Kantu, and actually have a chance of making it work, she was going to have to do the research. Somewhere in here was the key to convincing these colonists to leave peacefully and seek a new home yet again. Somewhere...

Sliding back into her desk chair she swiveled her console around. "Computer, please pull up full records for the New B'Hala Councilors and all non-Bajoran colonists." If there was anything useful here, then by the Prophets, she was going to find it and use it.

"A long time coming"

Being Part IV of the END OF ALLISON Saga

OOC:(With kind thanks to Dru and her 'crew')

Lieutenant Dhanishta Eshe ? Chief Engineer
Lieutenant (Jg) Naranda Sol Roswell ? Engineering Officer
Ensign Sota ? Systems Engineer (Written by Robert S)
(Intro written by Chris)

***USS Galaxy Main Engineering***

It had been a long time coming.........

The Engineering staff aboard the USS Galaxy was one of the best, most highly trained groups of technicians in the Federation.

If there wasn't something they could fix, or hotwire into working the way it was supposed to.... then they'd just design and build something from scratch that would do the job.

If there was one thing they loved it was a puzzle.... a real challenge.

However?

If there was one thing they hated it was a puzzle that defied any and all attempts to solve it.

That just chapped their collective hides.

Enter the Enigma.

That was what some on staff had taken to calling the little pink jewel-encrusted electronic organizer that had become central to the biggest mysteries facing the staff for a long time.

Confiscated several months ago from one innocent looking crewman by the name of Allison Jimsdottir, the device had proved interesting if only for the reason that nobody seemed to be able to open it.

Standard lock-picks and decrypt codes were useless, and as interest increased, the powers that be attempted more and more powerful (and some times questionable) means to unlock it.

High level Cypher algorithms broke down in failure........

Brute force number crunchers revealed nothing.......

Even a highly illegal Military grade Code-Picker....supposedly the end-all be-all of cyphers proved useless in opening the little pink computer.

It was to the point that the only thing to do was to intestinally fry the locking mechanism with a power overload and hope that the data within didn't get zapped as well.......

Which is of course what they ended up doing!

"Crap....." muttered Nara as the large puff of smoke rose up from the sparkling jewels. "That was a bit more than necessary!"

Dhanishta let out a slow whistle as she watched the smoke cloud rise. Wafting it away she looked down at the jewel encrusted, now slightly chard looking device that had been the thorn in their sides for the last few months and raised an eyebrow, "Yup, you toasted it real good!" she commented dryly.

"Ensign, hand me that scanner." Nara requested ignoring Dhanis comment.

Handing over the requested device Sota looked on dispassionately, "Well Ma'am, at least it should open now." He offered as he looked on.

It did open at last! Revealing a cracked, smoking display screen, melted rubber trim and the distinct odor of fused wiring.

Not the smoothest of Engineering accomplishments, Dhani thought as she watched on with mild horror. They had tried everything they could think of to open it without causing damage. And now they stood, just the three of them, huddle around its smoking debris hoping, (well Dhani was at any rate!) that the woman it was taken off wouldn't sue for malicious damage to personal property.

Nara frowned as she scanned, "Let's see if it's still working."

"If the definition of working can be stretched to include the creation of free floating carbon molecules and random thermal emissions, then yes Ma'am, I would hazard a guess it will." Sota suggested dryly.

"I think we've fried most of the data," Dhani added looking over their shoulders, "shit!" she sighed frustrated.

"Indeed, it would appear most of the data has been randomized." Looking over the readout Sota raised an eyebrow, wondering if anything could be salvaged.

Nara gave them a look, "You guys give up too easily."

"There do seem to be some protected data blocks... although I would have to classify them more as fragments at this point." Sota mused.

"So not a complete loss." Nara was determined. "What about transferring it to a new memory unit."

Dhanishta was already reaching for the necessary tools. "Downloading now." She informed them both. "Hummm, most of it seems to be some sort of journal," Dhani detailed in a bored tone, "'What I did on my vacation'? 'What color dress I'm going to wear tomorrow'?"

~Seriously, who writes this sort of dribble?~ Dhani thought scathingly, "Some letters home?" she finished with a sigh massaging her temple with her index fingers as she leaned on the console. Months of work, blood sweat and tears only to find out that the organizer was EXACTLY what it appeared to be. Nothing special or secret! She was glad that Jamson was not here to see this, he would have hit the roof, and she was so sure there was more to it.

Nara shook her head refusing to buy that, "That can't be..."

"What?" Dhani asked lifting her head, "A total waste of time and resources?" she quipped acidly.

"Lieutenant?" Sota interjected pointing at the screen with a look that in Human terms could almost be described as surprise and shock.

"What the hell....?!!" Dhanishta exclaimed.

Nara looked at Dhani, "Well? What the hell?"

"Blueprints." Dhanishta uttered shocked, "?technical blueprints of the Galaxy." Her eyes widened, jaw dropped, even her breathing slowed.

"You mean like a ship's map?" Nara asked sticking her head in trying to get a good look.

"No.... not something simple like a guide on how not to get lost!" Dhani retorted with untimely humor, "I mean these are detailed Engineering blueprints of the ship...."

"And here." Sota pointed, "Damage assessments. Repair notes on the Starboard array that was damaged in the battle with the Hydrans."

Dhanishta shook her head a sinking feeling upsetting her stomach, she moved to one side so Nara could get a better look.

Nara's face grew just as pale as Dhanis was as she read out what she saw, "Access codes.... fragments of them anyway..... personnel files.... a file on Captain M'kantu..... A listing of vulnerable ship points!" her pitch rose.

"Vulnerabilities?" Sota questioned.

"Yeah.... this chick has a computer file listing every weak spot the Galaxy has.... who the heck is she?"

"More than she would seem..." Sota started only to be cut off.

"HOLY SHIT!" Dhani exclaimed loudly drawing more attention than she anticipated. She almost choked on the air she was breathing as the heading appeared on the screen before her eyes: ***-: ^--HYDR#N INVAS^ON PLANS:: DE)P SP+CE 5 2384***

*** EAVCU%^TION OF VERED CL&+TER***

***SECRET MEE$$INGS. HY*RAN #$$%: SAUL BENT^L ****

"Allison is a bloody spy!"

TBC

"Standing Firm"

Argrata Kaul - Colony Leader (NPC Michal)
Adi Ben Atar - Colonist (NPC Oded)

Location: Gamma Vereed III - Administrative Building

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

Serene and peaceful with a calm eeriness that hung morosely over the terraformed plain was the scene that unfolded before her gently experienced eyes. The finger, wrinkled and doted with small brownish spots indicating age, reached out caressing the frame of the window. Kaul studied the outside that was broken into three even viewing sections. The life, the peaceful existence that she had helped create was about to crumble in massive proportion due to Starfleet. The organization left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that she wanted to violently spit out.

The woman was wise in her years, carrying a grace and poise that few had known how to execute. Yet, it was a natural quality that embraced her easily. It created her to be a leader of few, or many, depending on the circumstance she found herself in. It was times such as now, where decisions knocked on the door of her world that set her ill at ease. Something....felt off about all the events that had shaped the environment around her and her colonists.

"Madam? You have guests."

Argrata turned, nodded, then offered a diplomatic smile.

The newcomer was a pregnant woman. She was wearing very modest cloths - a long skirt, a woollen shirt, and a traditional Shavis head cover.

"Beautiful, is it not?" asked Adi Ben Atar, stepping forward as gracefully as her weight allowed.

"It is." Kaul responded quietly. "How are you?" The question hung suspended in mid air, much like the woman's belly as Argrata's eyes were drawn to the rounded form of the woman.

"Baruch Hashem. Blessed be god. Working in the asteroid mines with the family, not too hard of course." She tapped on her stomach lightly, beaming. "The doctors say he's going to be a very healthy boy. I'm sure he'll live to see the 100th. anniversary of the Jewish settlement here on Vered."

She nodded, not agreeing much with the religious beliefs of the woman that stood in front of her, but still wishing her health and wellness.

"Now.....tell me please of your opinion on the matter that has reluctantly come to our attention. I cherish your viewpoint."

"We're staying, of course, be'ezrat Hashem" Adi pointed out. "It's Pinkberry season soon and we can't leave the fruit on the bushes. I don't see any reason for Starfleet to evacuate us - it's our land, we've been defending it alone until now, there's no reason for it to discontinue."

A long, drawn out sigh came from the withered lips of the woman. "Blessed Goddess Diana.......it is times such as these that test the nature of the soul. Adi.....you are aware that Starfleet has a duty and a right to evacuate us. Pinkberries or not.....we will have to capitulate to their wishes."

"I did not expect the council leader of the Cluster to just say 'it's their duty, we should just yield'. Perhaps I should have voted for a leader who has more faith?"

"What would you have me do? What is the point of struggle and what is the point of pain that will be enacted surely if we do not heed to the wishes of the 'Fleet'? Am I content with pushing the passion that I feel towards the Cluster downwards into my soul. Nay. Yet, what other option do we have that will secure life instead of possibly ending it with strife...or worse...bloodshed of innocent people? Answer me that, dearest Adi..... As you are aware....the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. We are the few......they are the many." Her eyes dropped to the floor, another long sigh came from her nostrils, causing them to flare slightly.

The religious woman's cheeks flushed.

"What needs of the many? Why would it bother the many that we stay here? It was an arbitrary decision, made by someone for whom a few thousand people are cheap as yesterday's garlic, who can be moved from here to there as if they were cattle. Me taking care of my Pinkberry orchid does not trouble anyone living comfortably at Earth, Bolarus or Vulcan so don't lecture me about the need of the many."

"You tell me then." Agrata said coolly, yet with a hint of venom in her voice. "If you were a leader what would you do? Resistance perhaps? How would that solve anything?"

"Resistance? I would never raise my hands on a brave soldier protecting my Federation."

Oddly enough, there wasn't the slightest cynicism in Adi's declaration. "But yes, resistance." She continued. "But not fighting. Fighting is a battle lost in advance. There are two ways to keep us here. One is to make the leadership change their decision. This is something that can only be done if we gather public support, and a lot of it. The other way is to win the soldiers. Make them lose their will to take us away. Make them understand the injustice they will be implementing. Make them wake up screaming from nightmares because of the great evil that brings them to do something as inhumane as expelling me from my home. Otherwise."

>From her handbag, Adi pulled out a few Holovid chips. "Otherwise, we'll end up like these. Watch them. They are from similar occasions in the Federation's past, and earth. Look at the small children and the elderly in the movie and tell me if you could look them in the eye after yielding."

Kaul took the chips, covering them in her hand protectively. "This I will do. However, my stance is firm. The evacuation will occur regardless of resistance or not. It is my obligation in part to Starfleet to make positive that the events occur smoothly, without resistance with my personal views not coming into my professional opinion. Any form of resistance that will be created from this situation will be dealt with in an appropriate manner and I do have the complete cooperation with Starfleet in regards to that fact. Now, if you'll excuse me.....I have work to do."

"I want to come to the council meeting."

"Ok." Kaul stated firmly.

"I'll leave you to your 'work' then." Adi turned away clumsily, not bothering to shake the council leader's hand. "I hope it involves your people rather than Starfleet."

Kaul nodded silently, not offering anything in the way of who would be present at the meeting. It was for her to know, and everyone else to find out.

"Really Bad Eggs .... "

General Volon Dex's, CO Starfighter Corps
Commander T'Prev, Project Manager - Albatross

Lieutenant Darius Slaughter (APC Eric)
Lead Test Pilot - Project Albatross

Starfighter Corps Command, Saturn Station, Sol System
=========================================

"I told ye afore an' I'll tell ye again - she ain't ready an' you know it!"

At least on previous ocasions the pointy eared ice queen had had the decency and 'presence of logic' to concede to his extensive flight experience. "I'm sorry you feel that way Lieutenant. The General's orders stand. In three days Albatross Squadron is to board the USS Typhon and ship out to the Vered cluster. Once on station Typhon and Galaxy will exchange starfighters; your personnel will operate Galaxy's old Rouge V's until such time as the Typhon's current starfighters rejoin their carrier."

Darius glared at the screen, glad that this was a voice only conversation. "Yer forgettin somethin," he declared. "We may have the ship's fer a direct one-n-one, but what of the extra pilots?" They were 'over strength' by at least a half dozen pilots, not unusual for a test flight unit. "We tain't exactly composed proper for line work."

"The extra pilots have been issued orders placing them with units in need of their flight experience." She didn't really need to explain this but decided to humor the human. "Your orders are being sent at this time." A chiming on his desktop indicated recipt of the message. Tapping the screen he scanned the message and cursed as the vulcan continued. "You will accompany the Albatross fighters on board the Galaxy. One of their personnel has requested a transfer out of the unit for personal reasons. Until now this was not feasible. Good luck."

"Ungrateful curr," Darius muttered after the com line closed.

"At Table"

Outskirts of New B'Hala Colony
Gamma Vered II

"Drash, honey, please don't stand there while I'm working in the kitchen," a sandy-haired young woman said to the 4-year old girl who tried tenaciously to cling to her mother's legs. It was a request she'd repeated at least three times in the past several minutes and it didn't seem to register any better this time around. Depositing a freshly-baked loaf of hearth bread on the large wooden table that filled the center of the very lived-in kitchen, the woman then turned to the girl, picked her up and placed her gently on one of the heavy benches that paralleled the table's nearest side. "Can you sit here for a little while longer?" she lovingly asked, almost pleaded, as she looked into her youngest daughter's innocent blue eyes. "I promise I'll sit right here next to you just as soon as I get everything ready."

The girl nodded her assent, but still didn't seem entirely convinced that it was an acceptable compromise.

After a quick but gentle stroke of the girl's flaxen hair, the woman resumed her preparations for the family's afternoon meal. "Dara," she said to another, older daughter who'd appeared in the doorway, "please round up your brothers. Your father will be here in a few minutes and it'll be time to eat."

"Tolan, Wil, Marcus, Naman! Come to table!" the girl shouted, obeying her mother's request without moving from the spot.

"I could have done that," the mother sighed, rolling her eyes as she gathered a stack of plates. "Here, please set these out," she asked, handing them off to the older girl before returning to a large bowl of greens that patiently awaited her attention.

As Dara began distributing the plates around the table, she spoke her teenage mind. "Mother, why are we doing this? Shouldn't we be packing our things?"

Again, her mother rolled her eyes. "I've already told you a thousand times, your father and I have decided to stay," she said, continuing her preparations..

"But you know they're going to make us leave," the girl insisted.

"Dara," her mother began in an exasperated tone but with no interruption to her work, "no one is going to *make* us do anything. You know you better not let your father hear you talking like that. It'll only upset him."

"Everything upsets Father lately."

This time her mother stopped and turned, her patience obviously pushed to its limit. "He has a right to be upset!" Four boys, ranging in age from roughly six to fifteen skittered to a halt as they thundered into the doorway, realizing they'd stepped into the middle of the beginning of another heated exchange -- the kind that had become all too common of late in their house. For a moment, silence hung thick in the air as mother and daughter held each other's gaze. "Let's not discuss it any further right now." A moment later, everyone resumed their activity as if released from suspended animation.

The last plate set in place, Dara rather sullenly took a seat at the end of the bench opposite her little sister as two younger boys squirmed into place next to her.

As one of the older boys began filling cups of water at everyone's place, a doorway at the other end of the kitchen swung open and a well-defined man of early middle age entered. Tall and solid, the man still had something of a look of thoughtful youth about him, though the hint of tiredness in his brown eyes suggested that life had been doing its darnedest recently to change that.

"Papa!" Drash exclaimed, rushing to her father, unable to hold her seat any longer.

"How's my little angel?" he asked, forcing a smile as he scooped her into his strong arms. "And how's my not-so-little angel?" he asked quietly, stopping behind his generously-proportioned wife long enough to greet her with a gentle kiss on her hair. Her eyes and hands still focused on finishing the final touches to the afternoon meal, she smirked and playfully elbowed him in the side. "Mind your tongue, Sorvin. I can have a knife out of that drawer faster than you can spit." Such exchanges between them were always in jest, but Melody was a quick, capable and fiercely strong woman and he loved her madly for it. "Now take Drasha back to the table and sit down."

A few moments later everyone was seated, two boys and one girl on each of the long benches and mother and father at opposed ends of the family table. There were bread, greens, some root vegetables, cheese and some sliced meat in the center, but no one touched anything just yet.

"We pray," Sorvin announced, the family closing eyes and joining hands around the table in response. In an ancient tongue he muttered some words of invocation, then everyone dropped hands and began helping themselves to various parts of the meal.

A few minutes into the meal, Dara once again began to speak her mind. "Papa," she began somewhat insistently, but a calm but firm glance from her father stopped her from saying more. Everyone knew what she was going to say, not merely because she'd been saying it for over a week now, but because on some level they'd all thought the same thing from time to time.

"Just forget it, Dara," warned Marcus, the eldest child. At sixteen, he was only a year older than his sister, but that single year made all the difference in his being able to understand his father's point of view on their situation: Hydrans, Dreshyans, Federation -- it didn't matter. As one of the few non-Bajoran families in New B'Hala, this family had had to work harder than most for what it had.

They weren't going to leave their home.

tbc...

"Settling In"

Lt Chris Daniels
Tactical Officer

-----------

Chris Daniels hadn't exactly been keen on not moving his own stuff to the Galaxy. However, when his transfer order indicated his damn-near immediate transit to his new ship, he had to leave the transport of his belongings to Starfleet's Personnel Relocations Services, who no doubt threw his junk into a musty cargo hold of a freighter from the James Kirk era, only to have it dumped into one of Galaxy's cargo bays until the handlers on the ship had found worthy to transport it to his room on the way to the Vered cluster.

This was his fourth duty posting in the roughly two years he had been in the Fleet, so he had become no stranger to setting a place up, keeping it for awhile, then packing it up and moving it somewhere else after not too long. Maybe it was the curse of young officers...once you got settled somewhere, it was time to move on to somewhere else. But that didn't make the task of moving any more enjoyable.

"So, you're sure you don't have any Klingon blade weapons, medieval torture devices, or otherwise hazardous items in your shipments?" One of the movers, a scruffy looking Crewman, asked him, almost as an afterthought.

Chris gave him the quizzical look he gave anyone who asked him something absurd. "You're like the 37th person who's asked me that since I got on the ship...what's the deal?"

"Oh, sir, ya know, after Dewey got stabbed by an unnoted Romulan War Sword and Cheatum got the head wound from the old English mace, we just ask as policy."

Chris shook his head. "No, Crewman Howe...no weapons." He had been on the ship all of a few days and was already perplexed by some of the...nuances of the ship he had noticed.

Finally, after about an hour, the adventure with the movers was over, and Chris went about the task of arranging his stuff into a reasonable semblance of order.

*******

A few days later, with his hurried ship orientation finished, Chris was just about ready to report for duty. He had a loose grasp of the mission to Vered, so he knew at the least that he would probably have some time to acquaint himself with the ship's tactical suite before he was asked to operate it. And after having been stabbed the last time he was on a similar mission, he wasn't fond of these civilian evac missions.

But now wasn't that time. He hadn't even met his boss yet.

Now, he was standing in his quarters, arms crossed, lights down low, staring at the corner of his room that had all his personal stuff in it...commonly known as an "I Love Me" Wall. On it were various momentos of past achievements; diplomas, his commissioning certificate, citations for his awards, a thanks from one of Admiral Murdock's staff monkeys for his work during the Battle Of Romulus, and other things dating back all the way to high school. All in all, it overwhelmed him...

2 and a half years ago he was a brand new Ensign who only had dreams of the fleet. Now, he was a young Lieutenant who had seen his fair share of combat already and was in line to see more. People would say that what he had done was too much for a 24 year old to handle. But somehow he had managed to take it all, the only casualty being his rosy outlook on life at times. But none of that really mattered anymore. It was time to get down to work.

"Intermission"

Marking the Halfway point of THE END OF ALLISON SAGA

The 24th Century............

In the Universe.....it is always dark.

In the vastness of nothing that makes up everything, there is always more dark than there is light.

Light means warmth and life.

Darkness reigns over cold and death.

Night was the natural way of things.

Death was the natural way of things........

In the dark of night a predator was on the hunt.

Like a Dire Wolf of old, those grey furred demons that terrorized half of europe, the slate grey hull of a 24th century killer prowled soflty through the interstellar ether.

This cold of nothing was its feeding grounds. It preyed on the defenceless and weak.

It conquered those strong enough to stand against it....

Nuclear fire pulsed along its veins......

Atomic hell dripped from its teeth.......

Diamond hard shields bristled along its back......

Its name was ZEUS.......

And there was no dichotomy in its existance.

No science labs.......no diplomatic meeting rooms......no superfluous family to get in the way.

If the Romulan Empire could produce a killer starship on the level of Shinzon's Scimitar....then how much more lethel could the more advanced Federation forge a weapon.

USS ZUES was a fire spitting war machine through and through.

And the Federation was at war.

Goody goody.

"S..s...standard orbit please, stand down red alert, and rig for silent runnning."

"Standard Orbit Aye." Said Fear.

"Going to Yellow Alert....EMCON active....we're runing silent." Said Panic.

Hanging over a dead world that time forgot, the ZEUS crouched low over its latest kill.

A headstrong Hydran scoutship that had gotten too big for its britches.

Probing ahead of the main convoy, it had barely time to register a blip on its screns before the the cold hell of space stabbed deep into its once pristine blue hull.

Noting the telemetry on her repeater screen, the captain of the ZEUS barely nodded. Watery brown eyes squinted hard at the massive bank of multiple display screens across which crawled glowing mathematical symbology and equations.

Ther was no traditional Holoscreen installed on the all-white bridge.

Just the bank of repeaters.

The dizzying math represented the raw output of a thousand sensor scans and systems displays. No imperfect interpretation for human minds.....just the raw unfiltered data......the math.

The truth.

Behind those brown eyes a fevered brain worked out the equations without so much as a blink. Math was truth for any that had eyes to see it.......

And Rebecca von Ernst was the one pair of eyes that saw the truth.

Life was math.

Math was life.

If you could add two plus two then all mysteries would be revealed unto you.

So why then did her life suck?

"We have time," the captian stated, "The Hydran Convoy shouldnt be here for another couple of hours."

Fear and Panic merely looked at each other.

Over a year of first hand experience with the strange redheaded Captain had taught the pair to never hesitate or question her orders.

No matter how unlikely it seemed, the Captian had an uncanny ability to outfight....out think....and outgun every unfortuante adversary she had ever come across.

If pressed however, Rebecca would admit she really wasnt that good. She'd merely admit that she could out-add them....no more, no less.

"Report from Admiralty Ma'am." Said Fear. "The USS Galaxy will be operating out of the Vered Cluster for the next few weeks under a diplomatic flag.......we're to run interferance for her while she conducts evacuation exercises."

"Keep the badguys off of Daren M'Kantu's neck huh?"

"Aye Ma'am."

One final glance at the glowing screens, and the tiny woman uncrossed her legs and slipped out of the huge command chair and onto the pure white deck. "Fine we'll do that. Y...you have the bridge" she whispered ".....I'll be in my cabin."

"Aye ma'am." said Fear

"Aye ma'am." said Panic

The pair waited for the pixie-sixed CO to stride off the snow white bridge before commanding the display screens to revert to standard visual display.

The captain might understand all that glowing scribble, but Fear and Panic had to do it the old fashioned way.

Alone in her cabin, dark and more alive than the sterile white of the bridge, Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut against the headache.

The headache that never left.

She was wrapped in a plush blue bathrobe that covered her skinny frame from neck to ankle.

For all the death and destruction she weilded, Rebecca remained a shy girl, screaming inside her head at the horrors all around her.

Buring starships

Vaccum ravaged bodies.

Blood boiling in the hellish cold of eternity.

The headache....the headache.

The memories crashed into her fragile psyche like ocean waves against the rocks.

The memories never left her.

Not for a moment, and if she let down her guard they threatened to drive her insane.

Noodles.......wouldnt that be lovely

She opened her eyes and focussed on the opposite wall.

A photo of a starship's bridge....not the white ZEUS.....but the beige carpeting of USS Galaxy.

Smiling Robert Price perched neatly on the Command chair, Big Mike Pailaka at Helm, and a young James Corgan at OPS.

Rebecca shook her head at the memory. Everybody starts at OPS....then they transfer somewhere else.

Behind the arch stood grim faced Elaithin Jii as Security, and barely visible....tiny and standing onher tip toes was young Rebecca herself......red hair all mussed up as usual.

"Did I never comb my hair?" she wondered aloud.

Noodles but her head hurt.

She lay back on the bed and laced her fingers over her flat belly.

At 5 foot nothing and 95lbs, Rebecca was not the most impressive specimen of womanhood.

Anorexia is my friend.

Turning from the ghosts in the photos she wondered about her old friends......Price......Elaithin.....Corgan.....

Were they really friends?

Maybe she ought to write a letter......

=/\= Bridge to Captain von Ernst.....Hydran convoy at extreme edge of passive sensor range =/\= it was Panic

Suddenly her head felt better.

Jumping up and throwing off the robe, Rebecca squeezed into her black uniform.

"Back to Red Alert.....M....m....maintain position and EMCON.....I'll be up directly.

No time for ghosts.....

There was a War on, and Rebecca almost smiled at the possibilities.......

"The Candidate"

Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence

The battle of DS5, Saul was told by colleagues from across the fleet, was regarded as a great success. It was the first significant victory against the Triad, a classical David and Goliath tale. The public relation masteminds employed it to counter the effect of the invasion and the Vered cluster evacuation on the Vered cluster, fleet commanders mentioned it in their speeches about gallantry and unison in the face of an enemy, and even academy instructors embedded it into some of their classes.

All of that could not make the wounded less wounded or the dead less dead.

The Galaxy crew was very lucky on the second section, but there were plenty of wounded. Saul was sitting in sickbay by the bed of one wounded who was experienced enough to realize that glory would not heal a severed ear or regrow burnt fur patches.

"Look at us." Chi'tah said, indicating Saul's encased left arm. What's left of her leg was in worse shape, and it was graciously hidden behind an encasement not unlike Saul's. "We look like a sapper unit."

"And don't' ask what bodily extension did Raynor lose."

"Really?" The Caitian's face brightened up.

"Not really."

"Pfffft." She hissed, reminding Saul of an irritated cat. He didn't dare make the comparison next to her, though; She was one grumpy ole' street kitty. Especially when she looked like she's had a run in with some angered Bulldogs.

"How do you feel?"

"Pissed. I'm too ol ? I mean, I'm not young enough for these nonsense. The Doctors say that it'll take more time before I could sit by a computer and do my work. But don't replace me with the girl just yet."

"Actually, I came to talk with you about her. I want your advice."

"Smart officer ? that extra pip didn't kill your neurons."

Saul smiled at the mention of their early chats about irksome, arrogant senior officers back when he was a new Ensign on the Galaxy. Saying that he didn't imagine back then that he would be her superior officer would be a blatant lie. But it sure looked distant at the time.

The girl she was talking about was Saul's latest idea. After he heard Chi'tah was disabled, he began seeking creative solutions for the hole that formed within his department. She was the only computer specialist they had, and after so many years on the ship she was invaluable to Valentina and subsequently to himself. There were some systems that they just could not operate without her, especially within the I.W. room.

And then, in the debriefing conversation with Jaxom, the solution presented itself.

"She's terribly young." Chi'tah stated. "You know I don't care about age ? I was a NCO when a certain Lieutenant was still at grade school ? but she's not even eighteen yet. That's the Human age of maturity, isn't it?"

Saul nodded. "Formally."

"What, she's like the youngest cadet ever to be accepted to the academy?"

That got a laugh out of him. "No ? but I wouldn't be surprised if she's in the top hundred. I started at seventeen and I think that was below average. I was taken aback by her age too, but then I looked deeply into the file."

Frowning, Ch'itah rolled on her left side and pressed on the bedside computer console. A few clicks and vocal commands convinced the computer that it could do more than just display Ch'itah's vital signs and medical records, and the personal dossier of Aina Mason appeared.

"Science and Communications major."

"Yea."

"Doesn't sound like someone who has the spunk to do intelligence work. She'll need some Hutzpe."

Saul was amused by the Caitian's fondness of the Hebrew word.

"Scroll a little more. She got scolded many times for information security violations and computer intrusions at the academy. Most of them were only found out when she stepped forward to report the intrusion."

Chi'tah's eyes narrowed down. "If she plays these tricks on MY I.W. room she'll regret being rescued from DS5. Let's see? top five percent of class on the Data Assault and Computer Forensics group at Santa Clara? I thought they only accepted cadets with prior knowledge."

"I know. That's what I told Commander Jaxom when he told me about the message from DS5."

Chi'tah straightened up abruptly in her bed. "You mean to tell me that a little girl was behind the coded message?!"

"She didn't do it alone. There was the Captain's wife, who apparently knows her stuff too. But she played a major role in wiring the sensors and delivering the message to us."

"You don't say." Chi'tah replied dryly, returning to look at the screen. "What's that ? psychological profile? Am I supposed to see this? Are you?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

The Caitian chief bid her time reading the psyche profile.

"I can see why you think you'll persuade her easily. 'Likes to play spy mystery holograms and sneakem'? Maybe she thinks it's a game."

"Isn't it? What's more important, it says her main motivation is to feel useful and to try and fit in. Figures, when you're torn between Human and Bajoran cultures."

"You make it sound like she needs a hug."

"No, but I think it means she'll really enjoy helping you. If she benefits and we benefit, well, it's a win-win situation."

Chi'tah wasn't listening. "What's that about that 'synesthesia'?"

That was a very good question. Perhaps the biggest riddle in Aina Mason's dossier. was that she had a complex synesthesia (grapheme-colour-spatial). By her own admission, she used it to help her perceive the code and data of software. She claimed that when she looks at any form of writing, she also perceives the writing around her, like a landscape of colours and numbers.

In fact, Saul watched a Trideo from her in her first year at the Academy, taken by a counselor investigating the synesthesia. Aina was shown a page of writing and then that page is placed on the floor with a large number of other pages. Within a few seconds, every time, she always picked the page. She explained that each page looks like a piece of mountain, with different colours. And that is what she looks for. She sees the landscape first, then she sees the words.

He didn't feel a need to show it to Chi'tah.

"It looks she functions just fine despite it."

"I've seen enough. If you can't grab anyone skilled enough from engineering we'll have to go with her. Let's give it a two months try." The Caitian sighed. "And if she needs a hug, ask someone else to give it."

Saul grinned widely. "Zev?"

"Don't you dare."

"Snowball"

Lieutenant Saul Bental, Chief of Intelligence
Lt. (jg) Naranda Roswell, Engineer

Nara walked down the hall, her face marked in confusion. Did he help them? Were they after him? Just what was her boyfriend up to? She had put up with his secrets, but now, she knew too much to not know.

The face of a Denoboulan cadet appeared on the console next to the two heavy-set doors blocking the way into Saul's well-protected intelligence lair. A moment later, the doors parted to reveal the Dutchman in question. He waited for the doors to close again and provide them with some privacy, then moved forward to hug her.

"Hey princess... what a surprise!"

The hug was not returned, nor a smile. She just stared at him in confusion, anger and concern all mixed together.

Saul noticed her unusual rigidness instantly, and let go. Nara being upset was not uncommon, but not returning his embrace was something new.

"What? What's wrong?"

Nara looked down at the PADD holding the report about the pink organizer. "I really don't know." She looked at him again, steel-eyed. "Tell me. Should I be angry or worried?"

"Neither, I hope." Saul returned in a soothing tone. He reached for the PADD. "What's in there?"

She pulled it away, feeling spiteful. "How does it feel to not know?"

"Regular. My work is to find out about things I don't know. Can we skip to the part where you stop acting like Faylin and explain to me in simple words what's the problem without all the drama?"

The look she gave him showed she was not at all pleased with being compared to Faylin. After a moment, she came to her senses and handed him the PADD. "Why is your name in there with the Hydrans?"

Saul's eyes skimmed through the suspicious and partially scrambled lines.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Exactly." She sighed. It was meant to be snarky, but she had a point to the word. "Personal issues aside, this is what Engineering found in that pink organizer. We figured Intelligence would need it." After a moment, her face softened, but still held a bit a tension, "By handing it over, I assume I lose all right to even ask what it's about. Just tell me you're not the enemy." She wanted him to be honest, but she also knew she'd never know for sure if he was. She wanted him to tell her what she wanted to hear. Even if it was a lie. Even if it would endanger her very life, career and/or freedom.

"I am not your enemy in this wat. The only contact I have with the Hydrans is through phaser fire. This doesn't even say 'Bental', let alone 'Saul Bental'."

But it did mean 'Bental', and Saul knew it. He was not the only Bental out there, and he already knew of one Bental who dealt with the Hydrans.

Devoss. The Fox.

He found out about his cousin's connection during the covert operation on the Vaden system. Since then, and especially after the war broke out, he was making immense efforts to prevent anyone else within the fleet from finding out about the connection between the Bentals and the Hydrans. It wasn't good for him, wasn't good for his plans.

He hoped Devoss had the brains to severe the connection as soon as the invasion began. Utrecht III was a Federation world even if it didn't really feel like one, and the intelligence chief knew well how traitors and spies are treated if caught.

What's worse, 'Bent^l' wasn't necessarily Devoss; There were plenty of others who could meet with the Hydrans. The old guard were too conservative for something like that but perhaps they were desperate. And then there was Arieh, and Janny, and - heck, he wouldn't put it beyond EZ to take the Flying Dutchman into Hydran territories.

The PADD in his hand felt heavy all of the sudden, but he held it firmly. He just wished he had brought 'Thing' to work today.

She watched him and it didn't take telepathy to see he was troubled and unsure about something. "It looks close enough and can you blame me? I know you have secrets. I never ask about them, but ..." She sighed. She suddenly felt tired.

"No. I can't blame you. I know I'm a bad investment... " He hesitated, "I'm one of the good guys. Whatever happens, related to this text or not, it's important to me that you remember that. OK?"

She sighed, softening more now, "You're not a bad investment, just a risky one." She stepped close and took his hand and looked into his eyes, "I don't regret anything and I don't think I ever will. I love you and I just want to make sure you're going to be alive for a while longer." She smirked, "I just hope we agree who the good guys are."

Saul's thoughts returned to the Vered cluster's evacuation.

"It's not easy nowadays, isn't it? Now, as for this..." He glanced at the PADD, "I suppose I can't make it disappear, eh?"

Nara raised an eyebrow, "Are you asking me to withhold information? Besides, I'm not the only one who saw it." She shook her head, "Even if I did keep quiet, others know and both our careers could be in jeopardy. Again." She left out the part she wasn't sure what she thought of the idea of him asking her to keep quiet.

"I know, I know. It's a snowball I can't stop. What I said was just wishful thinking."

He knew he couldn't make it vanish, but he could bury it under many other things. There was enough going on for that specific line within the text to dissolve into the chaos of intelligence.

Wishful thinking. Like wanting to have never seen it. At least she can sweep it under the rug. She stepped seductively closer, "So how does the Intelligence department plan on thanking the Engineering department?"

Attaching the PADD to his belt, Saul slanted his eyes toward the door.

"You'll ruin my reputation."

She made a sound, "As if."

He then cupped her head with his hands, letting those pretty curls fall on his fingers, and kissed her.

She kissed back, grateful that her hormones were drowning out any warning flags her mind was trying to present.

* * *

When Saul came back into CIC, He caught a glimpse of Lali elbowing the new Betazoid cadet and giggling. The Indian tried to keep her face straight as he came near.

"Gathering intelligence, Lali?"

"Just too girls gossiping, sir."

"Then gossip about the threat assessment batch to SFI HQ." He handed her over the PADD. "They want to see our refined version of the possible resistance from the colonists, the Dreshayans and the Hydrans. And squeeze this somewhere in the report. Picked up some strange rumbling in the personal possessions of a NCO. Now, before that, I need you to --"

How do you cover a snowball? You pour lots of snow on top of it.

"Meeting Again" (part one)

Ella
Dhani

****
USS Galaxy
Engineering

There was a clank, a thud, and then the whine of a sonic shower malfunctioning, odd considering that it had originated from the Engineering break room which, to Dhani's knowledge, didn't have a sonic shower.

Confused, she followed the sound and was more than a little surprised to see Ella Grey seated at the table, blowing on her fingers and scowling down at the set of tools spread out before her. Ella looked up as the engineer entered, waved, and then returned to her work.

Frowning, Dhanishta approached her old Chief. "Er, ma'am," Dhani started unsure of how to address her as they were no longer in the same department, nor were they friends of any sort. Truth be told she had struggled with that for some time now. Grey was cagey to say the least, only let a few people into her life and the telepath before her now was not one of them. "What are you doing?" she tried to keep her tone even, the last thing she wanted to do was appear demanding or territorial seeing as Ella had handed the rains over to her.

Ella held up a finger, picked up the vocal patch, and applied it carefully to her neck. She started to answer but the sound that emitted was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Ella rolled her eyes, peeled off the patch, keyed a quick note on a computer PADD to the woman, and started to attack the offending device again.

Wincing at the sharp sound Dhani was glad for once of the written communication. Taking the PADD she read: *I'M HAVING SOME TECHNICAL PROBLEMS, AS YOU CAN SEE. HOW ARE YOU DOING?*

She couldn't help but smile softly, "Once an engineer, always an engineer." she quipped stepping forward and sitting down. "What exactly seems to be the problem?" Dhani asked dodging Ella's hand as she went at the vocal patch with a renewed ferocity, "And I'm fine thanks for asking, you?" she returned the question.

Ella put the vocal patch back on her throat. "Good. There's some kind of glitch," she explained, the pitch of her mechanical voice waving in and out. She frowned at the new sound. "Great, I sound like I'm going through some kind of robot puberty. Anyway, I decided to drop in, borrow some tools, say hello to everyone."

Dhanishta hid a snigger at the comment, Ella seemed frustrated enough, she didn't want to add to it. "Want me to take a look?" she asked gently.

"I'm okay but thank you," The ex engineer replied. "I like having something to do while waiting. Or I should say I'm used to having something to do or fix." She removed the patch again to fiddle with it.

Dhanishta nodded, "Do you miss it here?" she asked indicating Engineering with a wave of her hand.

"Sometimes," Ella said. "But I needed a change."

"Oh?" Dhani said wondering if Ella might elaborate further on that statement.

"You know, the whole growth of self thing. Expanding my horizons, etc." She tweaked the patch for a moment and the thing set of another high pitched whine. "Just needed a change," she said once she had tweaked it back.

Dhanishta nodded. She was sure that it went deeper than that but it was not her place to pry, or even to suggest out loud that it might. She shrugged slightly and sat back in the chair, content to just watch for a moment, not totally comfortable with the silence but unsure what else to do or say.

Dhanishta chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. Her eyes roaming the room without actually focusing on anything, "So," she said abruptly invading the silence, "how's your love life?" she asked turning to face Ella once more. This was not something she typically enquired about, especially with Ella, but she had noticed that was a popular topic among women, not that she talked to any one in any depth about her relationships, but it seemed from what she had observed with Ella and other crewmen to be a popular subject matter. Whether it would be a popular ice breaker with the former chief engineer, or something that would be discussed at a later date with one of her closer friends over a bottle of something strong combined with haughty laughs at Dhanishta's forwardness, was another matter entirely.

Ella looked up from her work in amusement. "Imaginary. How's yours?"

Dhanishta really wasn't expecting that, but she supposed she had asked, so she returned, "Good, for the most part."

Ella raised an eyebrow. 'Most part' wasn't usually a good sign.

Dhanishta smiled simply and shrugged.

The pilot smiled. There was a time when being in the same room with Dhani made her uncomfortable - as had most telepaths. She guessed because of her confession to Andrus and her recent link to Corran, the paranoia of them reading her mind had lessened.

Dhanishta looked round the room, wondering what to do next. "I should probably get back to?." She pointed towards the door, "ya know?" she rolled her eyes at her attempts to small talk and stood.

She made a move towards the door and then stopped herself. Turning back she looked at Ella in a quizzical manner. "You know what?" she asked in a much more assertive tone, "I'm fed up of dancing round you like a ballerina on egg shells." she told her flatly. "We're not friends and yet we play this civilized game of fake politeness, pretending to be interested in each other lives when really we are making up for the fact that we don't know what to say to each other and the fact that we don't like each other. And it's been that way ever since I stepped foot on this ship four years ago." Dhani let out an aggravated, long pent up sigh.

So much for that, Ella thought with a sigh. "I know and it's mostly my fault."

"Meeting Again" (part two)

Dhani
Ella

***

USS Galaxy
Engineering

So much for that, Ella thought with a sigh. "I know and it's mostly my fault."

"I know." Dhani replied without thinking. "At first I thought it was cause I was new, and I didn't quite fit in. And then as time went by I found out why. I respect you wanting to keep your distance from me, I understand it, doesn't mean that I like it though? I mean come on, you went to the academy too, its not like you haven't been around Betazoids before!" Dhani shook her head aggravated and for some reason kept going, she was not one to vent her feelings but to hell with it now!

"And then when you were made chief I figured that the relationship would change, that we might at least get on in professional terms, but still, I could have been an out of date twin tub for all the use you made of me as your right hand." she stopped then for a moment, not relishing at all the fact that she had let herself get emotional on the topic. Taking a deep breath she fixed her eyes on the floor, feeling her face flush with embarrassment.

Ella was quiet for awhile, something she excelled at. "I wasn't really around a lot of telepaths in the Academy. I avoided them. It's not that I ever thought anyone would try to read my mind its just things happen. Thoughts are read, people project. And I have secrets I didn't ... I don't want to be known. I never meant to offend you; I actually think you'd be an interesting person to know. I just don't know if I can have that kind of a relationship with you."

Dhani looked up from the floor, her dark eyes locked onto the petite former engineer before her, "And you never even bothered to find out." she bit back, emotion edging her tone. She blinked back the moisture that gathered in her eyes and drew in a long breath. Having it all out with Ella was not something she had planned, nor even wanted, hell who would plan this? Dhani looked towards the door and then back to the floor to a spot before Ella's shoes, she couldn't even look her in the face. It was hurt that laced her tone, it caught her off guard, reminded her of Chang, the academy, her own resentment for telepaths?

The silence descended once more, uncomfortable, static and un-nerving. The heat that arose over her skin made her itch. She felt Ella's eye upon her and the emotions that spewed forth from the gaze. She was truthful, that much Dhani could tell. She had never meant to upset her or ignore her; she was dealing with her own problems, imitating a mute to go unnoticed herself. Dhani shook her head, sucked in her bottom lip and began to chew on it.

"I could try," Ella said. It wasn't as if she had lots of friends on this ship and Dhani was someone who had similar experiences, engineering wise. "I'm working on it."

Dhanishta nodded slowly, the question 'how?' flowed through her mind, making her frown at the floor. She shrugged off the comment, focusing instead on why she felt so grieved. She knew quite a lot about the engineer before her, much more than she would have ever wanted her to know. She had spent years, a life time almost, getting to know her deceased crew mates through their own words alone, yet even then, when she thought that she knew them ? she didn't, not really. She looked up and sighed, "I'm sorry." she stated embarrassed. "You did nothing wrong?" she took in a deep breath and pursed her lips, wondering how she could account for her outburst.

"I knew you? or at least I did in a way?" Dhani trailed off biting her lip, "..I knew that you didn't like Betazoids, but still, even then?" she sighed and took a tentative step forward, "I got to know you through your logs, I even used to talk to you, in my head obviously.." she trailed again noticing the expression of confusion wash over Ella's face. "You were dead at the time.." Dhani clarified, "But when everything changed, I was so confused and hurt, in a way I felt like I had known you for a long time, even so far as to call you a friend, and then everything went back to how it had been, and you were just as you always had been, and while I knew? and know, that you didn't do it aggressively your hostility towards me, the distrust that you emanate... it," she shrugged, "kinda hurt?." she finished letting her eyes slowly ascend Ella's body to meet with hers.

The amount of pause this time in conversation was probably enough to make Dhani worry. "To be honest, those logs of mine ... they're mostly ... camouflage."

"Huh?" Dhani queried, she had already begun a long explanation in her mind to A) counter Ella's outrage for reading her private logs and B) to try and explain coherently the events which took place, which did and didn't happen, without confusing her.

"Meaning I don't really talk about the important things. I mean, I discuss my parents, friends, sometimes other people, but I purposefully keep them superficial. The best secrets are best kept to yourself, you know?" She tilted her head. "I'm not saying this to be hurtful; I just ... would you like to start over?"

The confusion and embarrassment lifted off her face, replaced with a small smile, "Yes please!" she replied with a half hearted chuckle.

Ella extended her hand. "I'm Ella."

"Settle In And Don't Relax"

By
Benedict "Max" Maxwell (PC)
Petty Officer 2nd Class, Paramedic Practitioner
U.S.S. Galaxy

*Temporary Billeting*

**

Max sat on the couch in his temporary quarters with a glass of Merlot and an unlit Indonesian clove cigarette. The flavors of both helped relax him in times of stress. Like earlier for example, when he formally checked into his new assignment.

"Any Klingon weapons, vintage Earth combustion weapons, custom phasers, non-issue dangerous items, or hazardous materials," asked a Crewman who was running down a list that he apparently memorized.

"I just have a K-Bar knife and this nice Hydran fusion weapon I appropriated," was the reply. The Crewman made note of the K-Bar on his PADD, then looked up at Max.

"I'll have to relieve you of that Hydran weapon for R & D purposes." Max gave the Crewman a blank look and initially thought of pulling rank to protest, but in the end just handed it over. The Crewman hefted it, gave it an approving once over, sighted it, then placed it on the table that was next to him.

"You can have this back after it's been examined and the power cell removed," he advised. Max just rolled his eyes and reminded himself that on his next PCS move he would stash it in stasis or something.

Later, came an exam from some Doctor who took special interest in his leg implants.

"And you say these were installed at John Hopkins," the Doctor asked.

"Yep, and they're better than the originals that I had," was the reply from Max. The Doctor looked even further intrigued and made a note of it on his PADD.

"Well, being that you're assigned to this department, you'll be seeing Dr. Burton soon I'm sure. For now, get yourself situated with sleeping quarters and get some real food to eat. I heard the slop you guys were eating was not exactly...the greatest." Max had nodded at the physician and when they were done quickly went to find the Ten-Forward lounge for a much needed drink.

The worst of it was when he found out that at current there were no quarters available to put him in, so instead he was placed in temporary quarters. Not that he was complaining.

Now they were on their way to the Vered Cluster. He didn't really know anything about it except that it was colonized by various peoples who were all Federation citizens, and now were to be uprooted. The Starfleet in him argued that it was for their own protection, and they would be thankful later. The humanitarian who went on frequent vacations that was in him came back with a 'Lousy T-Shirt' t-shirt on and argued that the colonists were within their rights to stay if that's what they wanted to do. This was the source of Max's current inner conflict. Duty vs. inherent rights, the many vs. the few, might vs. right.

He figured that before the day was done he may have to see a counselor or something (PERISH THE THOUGHT!!). It was certainly time to light that clove cigarette, now. He did so, took a long drag, and felt the nicotine and spices course through his body, the flavor of the cloves tingling his tongue. He then exhaled and ordered a Kenny G track to be played.

"A Big Hit"

With:

Adiana Grantham, Executive Administrator
Myra Tapping, Finance Administrator

*Office of the Executive Administrator, Hollingston Corporate Main Office, Zanthus City, Lambda Vered I*

"So how bad is it," asked Adiana Grantham. Her oversized solid oak desk was an island between her and the subject of her attention, Myra Tapping, the Finanace Administrator.

"With the Ferengi not being able to ferry our materials in and out of here, the investors getting very nervous, and the mine collapse, we are losing 80% of our profit on a daily basis with the potential of a loss within the next week."

The Executive Administrator took this into serious account, then tapped a button on her terminal. When the information she read was agreable, she continued speaking.

"The room is secure from any form of electronic eavesdropping. Now I need you to understand this because I've known you for far too long to ever keep you in the dark." She stood up and walked around the desk to crouch down next to the number cruncher. "We need to get out of here before all of this goes to shit. Corporate wants this fucking world? They can have it!" Her hands balled into fists to emphasize her point.

"But I'll be damned if I lose the only thing...the only person that I care about to those greedy bastards." Her fists unclenched, and softly caressed either side of Myra's impassive face. "I have it all set up, we'll leave with the Corporate Rep to meet with the Cered Cluster Council, and then a transport waiting for us will get us out of here and to wherever we want to go. nd then we won't have to hide from anyone anymore!" A desparate kiss was immediately followed by a look of mixed shock and agony. The stiletto blade Myra had secreted into her sleeve was well placed into Adiana's chest, at a 45 degree angle and through the 5th intercostal space. Myra then tilted the handle down, then to her right. A ghastly gurgle escaped Adiana's throat before she collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Still impassive Myra stood up, walked to the door, and opened to reveal a waiting Shin Takashi. Without a word, Myra embraced the young new Executive Administrator. She then spat on the floor with a disdainful look back at her former lover, wiped her mouth then kissed Shin with all the passion and lust she could muster.

Breaking away from the embrace, Shin looked Myra in the eyes and spoke. "We leave with the representative in an hour. This Council meeting should prove interesting." Myra broke into a lusty smile and followed Shin out of the office.

5727