"What The ? Part 2"

Cmdr Jaal Jaxom
Strategic Operations

== USS Panther, 2377==

"You can't go in there Jaxom! There's too much radiation," the Vulcan
announced while reading his tricorder.

"We can't leave Dany in there and you know it!" The Trill was already
peeling back the Jeffries tube hatchway with a plasma torch.

"Jaal," Kopak pleaded in a most un-Vulcan way, "What if Daneel got out
the other end? This will be for nothing."

"If he had," Jaal replied while intently trying to cut a straight line
with the torch, "He'd have told me by now." He looked up at his
Academy bunkmate, "He's telepathic, remember?" he pointed to his
temple with his free hand.

He went back to the hatch to cut the other hinge, "I've got a
radiation suit on. Just stay here and activate the containment field
when we get out."

The Jeffries tube hatch fell to the deck. A wave of heat escaped
causing the two young officers to sweat almost immediately. Jaal
peered in, "I can see him! He's about twenty meters down and he's not
moving!"

"Let me get a radiation suit and go with you," Kopak asked.

Jaal shook his head, "No time! By the time you get back I'll have him
out. Just hang on a minute!"

Kopak watched the Trill dive into the tube. His expression
uncharacteristically showed worry. Instead of pulling Jaal back out by
his foot he tapped his commbadge and requested an emergency medical
team.

==Sickbay, USS Galaxy, Present Day==

Jaal's head shook back and forth on the pillow. He was trying to call
out the names of his friends but his mouth was so dry that no sound
came out.

The nurse watching the ward came over to his bedside and gave him an
injection with a hypo-spray.

She rested a hand on his forehead in an effort to calm him. Jaal's
eyes opened and found he was looking right into two pools of bright
blackness. The black irises identified this person as a Betazoid.

"Easy does it Commander," she told him out loud. "Everything is going
to be fine."

"Wha?" was all the sound he could make.

"The containment field between decks eleven and twelve failed before
you got out. You hit with a hefty dose of radiation," she answered the
question that surfaced in his mind. "Do you feel well enough to sit
up?"

Jaal tried sitting up but immediately felt nauseous.

The nurse helped him back down to his pillow. She then poured some
water from a pitcher on a cart into a glass with a straw. "Your
prognosis so far is good. You're going to feel sick to your stomach
for a while. You need drink all the water you can to re-hydrate." She
handed him the water.

"You're welcome," she answered his unspoken thanks.

She picked up his next question, "It seems some of the colonists were?
fanatics. A transport was destroyed right before the explosion in our
shuttle bay. That's all we know at the moment." She told him.

Jaal's brow furrowed deeply.

"You've been inoculated against the radiation sickness but you'll need
a few days to heal. You have some burns around your neck. Sorry about
your necklace by the way."

Jaal's hand instinctively checked the area around his neck. Sure
enough, the necklace Erastus had given him on his last birthday was
gone. What he couldn't see was the burn marks the irradiated metal
left but he could feel the analgesic cream used to keep his skin moist
and prevent infection.

"Every stitch of everything you were wearing had to disposed of," the
nurse reported with empathy. "If you don't mind me asking, who is?
Erastus?" she cocked her head curiously.

Jaal's expression saddened a degree.

"Ah, I see," she smiled knowingly. "And who are Daneel and Kopak?"

Jaal's expression brightened. Those two had been his Academy roommates
and after graduation they three had shared time aboard the USS Panther
during the Dominion War. They were his best friends.

The nurse smiled again glad that she could make her charge feel
better. "Doctor Burton will be seeing you soon. You try and relax,"
she adjusted the sheet covering the commander, "Keep drinking that
water." She gave him a wink and went to check on the other patients in
the ward.

Just before she past the foot of his bed, she turned and told Jaal,
"Rita is my name."

"Fireworks"

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

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

The last of the colonists had put their affairs in order, and an accounting
of everything they were forced to leave behind (for compensation purposes
later) was itself completed. For'kel had seen to it that the cave complex was
empty... not a single sentient being would be left on this planet. It had
been hard won, but a victory was a victory none the less.

The Marines were able to breathe easier now. News had spread through the
ranks that the sniper responsible for the near decimation of one of his squads
had been found by a sniper team, dead... and dead in a Starfleet Marines
uniform none the less. The uniform itself had been removed and ceremoniously
destroyed, as something that tainted should be. His rifle on the other hand
would go on to be a fairly macabre war trophy for the 188th. Private Owens had
gone on to ensure all burial arrangements for the man had been made... so
maybe no sentient being would be left 'alive' on the planet. The deceased
Marines were equally ceremoniously treated, their bodies being placed in stasis
chambers to be returned to their families for individual arrangements.

"He's buried, sir." Owen spoke softly as she approached the vehicle.
"Surprise, we had no luck finding an ID on him." Her hand gestured to the
relatively unmarked grave. Stones had been meticulously placed around the border,
and a simple head stone bearing only his estimated date of birth and death
stood to indicate anyone was buried there at all.

"Thanks, Leah." For'kel sat on the edge of his seat, his legs outside the
buggy (inadvisable for safety reasons, but hey nobody was driving it anytime
soon.) "Where are we with the evacuation?"

"Just about finished. Last hopper is boarding now, and all the possessions
indicated have been transported up." She looked up from her PADD. "Has 'you
know who' called yet?"

"Not yet, with any luck the next time we'll already be on the Gal..."

And like that, the intruding sound of 'chirp-chirp' came from the dash of
the buggy.

Leah rolled her eyes, For'kel closed his and muttered something
uncomplimentary about desk jockeys.

Chirp-chirp again.

Admiral Megarex's group had been a pain since they'd touched down on the
planet. There were constant inquiries, requests for updates and situation
reports that flowed like a stream every twenty to thirty minutes or so. He
pressed the console reception key with some hesitation. "Colonel Arvelion."

"Staff Sergeant Ilal sir." The Trill HQ communications specialist replied.
"Ensign Noma from the Admiral's staff wishes to speak to you."

For'kel took a deep breath and tried to relax as much as possible. The
Betazoid woman was actually very polite and nice, the type that even though it
was all about 'business' was easy to get along with. It wasn't her fault she
was being ordered to gather reports at the pace she'd been given, and she even
understood just how much of a pain she was being... which again made it very
difficult to be really 'mad' or even 'annoyed' to any great degree with her.
"Thanks Sarge, put her through please."

There was an affirmative response before the 11 by 8 1/4 inch view screen
changed to the face of the Betazoid communications officer. "Colonel Arvelion,
I'm sorry to bother you."

"It's quite all right." He gave a dismissive wave. "Situation is normal,
the last of the colonists are already on their way up, and their belongings
are already aboard. Still nothing from Captain Maivia's squad, have you guys
heard anything?"

"Sorry sir." The Ensign shook her head with a frown. "I've tried raising
them several times, and all I get is static. The Admiral is aware they're MIA
though."

"All right, well in that case I'll put together a search and..."

"Colonel... I..." the poor Betazoid obviously didn't know how to put she was
about to say. "I'm sorry, but the Admiral wants everything wound down as
quickly as possible. I'm not privy to all the details, but..."

And then everything went fuzzy. It was highly abnormal, especially as there
had been no indication that there was anything capable of jamming a secured
tac-net comm frequency between the Admiral's office and the Galaxy, or from
the Marine HQ element on the Galaxy and the troops deployed.

"Oh my God..." came a hushed, awe-spoken voice next to him. For'kel looked
over to see PFC Owen staring up at the sky, the PADD she had in her hand
dropped to the ground.

Aesthetically it was probably what one would consider a beautiful light
display. Where they knew one of the transports were, a bright ball of an amazing
light show had emanated. It was a breathtaking display to say the least,
with ultraviolet rays burning into gold before dying into red.

"What the hell is that?" She looked back to the Colonel as if to expect an
answer, but there wasn't one there to give.

A second later there was another bright light... this time coming from where
the Galaxy should be. The impressive show from the planet was probably a
completely different experience from orbit.

"I've got no clue." For'kel answered, not the kind of response he was
accustomed to giving. "But it can't be good."

The Admiral's communications officer finally reappeared after a very
daunting several seconds of silence. "Colonel? Colonel respond please?"

The sense of urgency in her voice was indication two that something 'not
good' happened. "I'm here, what the hell was that?"

"There were two explosions. One of the transports and the Galaxy were
involved, we don't have any additional information at this time. I need to go."

That was understandable. "Arvelion out." He closed the comm-line, before
opening the unit's intra-comm. "This is Colonel Arvelion to all Marines. An
incident has occurred aboard the Galaxy, no information is available at this
time. All squads are ordered to stand fast at present locations until
pick-up can be arranged. Arvelion out." He looked over to Leah. "Find us a
shuttle, private."

"What for, sir?"

"We still have missing Marines out there, and we don't have much time left
to search. Besides, we need to know what happened up there."

"Tidal Forces"

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Commanding Officer

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence

*

The voices coming out of the village resembled a massacre, though no one was
killed. Cries, moans and screams echoed in the wind, joining to one
miserable to desperate roar.

At the playground on the northern side, children still played in the
sandbox, with one of the mothers overlooking them. The traditional bandana,
the kind that many Jewish women wore after marriage for many generations,
was soaked with sweat.

On the northern edge, the squads were already going from house to house.

The Starfleet troopers took no extra chances after the snipping incidents
and the slaughter that took place in space. The village was first
surrounded, inspected and scanned. Only after all the precautions were
taken, did the real evacuation process started.

Each home was a battle. None of the colonists picked a physical weapon or
even raised his arms, but their fight was no less fierce than that of the
'Bottomfeeder Butchers'. Families held on to the the furniture, to the
walls, to each other. They refused to move, and each one of them had to be
dragged by three of four burly troopers.

But the worst of it came when they spoke.

Saul Bental thought he was going to avoid it. He assumed that after his
Lambda Vered stunt he'll spend the rest of the mission within the
uncontroversial confinement of his Intelligence Center. He wished that his
reward for cracking one of the toughest cores of resistance in the cluster
will spare him from having to face the sights that were presently
surrounding him.

But Captain M'Kantu sent him here, to this village of all villages,
regardless.

He passed by three weeping officers, that had to take step back and get
their act together. None of them was wounded, but some words could stab
deeper than vibroknives. They were huddled, trying to gain strength from
the proximity of others around them, others who were locked in this
terrifying charade.

On one of the houses' walls, Saul noticed, someone sprayed graffiti. It said
'EE12, don't leave anything behind'. EE12 were the engineering behemoths
they used to taken down the building, not wanting to leave anything to the
Dreshayans or the Hydrans. The handwritting was that of a little boy or
girl, who didn't want their home to be used by monsters.

On the same building's roof, several young men were waving an Orange flag
with the Star of David.

Four more troopers passed him by, holding to a girl who was half his edge.
Each one was holding a different limb. The girl was shaking, and Saul knew
why. According to the Halacha, the Jewish religious laws, she was forbidden
from touching any man until the day she would be married. Now, four hands of
aliens from four different species were violating the Isur Negia. Her wild
eyes met his, and she shouted something. He did not listen.

He knew that there would be a synagouge, and that it would be placed at the
center of the village. The building was hard to locate because of its
simplicity, an anti-thesis to the Cathedrals he saw on Earth or the ominous
temples of Mirusa. Still, Saul found himself walking directly toward it, as
if pulled by magical strings.

A woman was blocking the synagouge's gate, with three children peeking
behind her Orange dress. She was stout, standing defiantly with both of her
log-like leg planted deep in the ground. In front of her, several troopers
including a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander formed a line. All of them looked
sideways or to the ground, and none of them looked her in the eyes. Just
like they were trained.

"That's right." She roared at the Commander. "That's right! Look down! Be
ashamed! Don't look at me! You have not earned the RIGHT to look at me!"

Saul tapped the Commander's shoulder. "Leave."

"Si--" The confused Tellarite turned around, expecting to find a superior
officer and not a Lieutenant in blacks. "Excuse me?"

"Go elsewhere."

Saul's voice was in such contrast to what happened around them, that the
line simply broke and the officers left, trying to gain as much distance
from the madwoman as possible. Saul followed them with his gaze, then turned
back and fixed it on Adi Ben Atar.

She narrowed her eyes. which were reddened but dry.

"You know where you should look? You should look down at the ground. Because
you are doing something despicable. Because you are ripping these children
from everything they have. It's low, and you're forbidden, and you cannot
look me in the eye!"

Saul took a deep breath. He was able to speak, but it will take effort. He
still could not connect the words. The woman saw it.

"You can look sad, but it doesn't matter "You understand?! You will look
down like any other soldier here in this village. You - do - not - deserve
to look a Jewish woman in the eyes!"

"It's over." Saul said. "The Hydrans are on their way here. Leave if you
want your children to live."

She looked appalled.

"What?! How can you say that?! Isn't your uniform supposed to represent
something?! What have they done to you?? How much they paid you to do this
atrocity?! You will stand to TRIAL!! You, your Captain, your president, you
will stand to Trial for murdering the Federation, from murdering this
village! You won't be able to say 'I did not know, I did not hear, I just
executed orders'. No!! My house is not a game! It's not a holodeck
simulation you trained on!"

"It's not a game. None of this is a game. That is why we must leave."

"Coward. That's what you are." She patted one of the children, a
kindergarden girl. "See? Cowards they sent us."

"What's your name?" Saul asked her.

"Coward..." She recounted shyly, grasping her mother's dress once more."

Seeing that the Saul did not retreat, Adi tried to turn to reason.

"I don't know if they teach you History at the academy, but my people were
uprooted once by people like you. No, not like you, but they were Jews too.
And you know what the enemy did, after the people were forced out? They
entered the abandoned villages and fired rockets at other towns and cities."

"Ken, ani yodea."

"What did you just say?"

Saul repeated the words, again in Hebrew. "Yes, I know."

Her lips moved several times. Then a frustrated shout slipped them. The girl
who called Saul coward began to cry.

"How dare you?! How dare a Jew expel another Jew?? Or is the language the
only thing you know about our people?"

"I know a little more." Saul admitted. "I know that we need a minian of ten
people if we want to pray in the temple one last time before we leave. Will
you help me find a minian? I don't know how many people remained, but the
synagouge deserves one final minian."

* * *

Instead of ten, they were thirty two. Half of them were colonists, the rest
Starfleet officers from many species. The officers seemed awkward with the
situation, most of them wearing - or, indeed, seeing - a Kippah for the
first time. The colonists could not teach them the prayers, but the tune was
easy and eventually Bolians, Vulcans, Tellarites and Humans hummed together
in unison, to the sound of words written when Humans lived on one planet so
far away,

When they were done, Adi approached Saul, reaching for his throat. He did
not flinch, and she did not try to strangle him. She took his collar, and
ripped it with her bulky hands.

"Kria'a." She explained, but there was no need. Saul knew what Miniam was,
what a prayer at the Synagouge meant, and what was Kria'a or 'Ripping' in
Hebrew.

It was the ancient mark of mourning.

* * *

"Captain's Log, supplemental.

We have done what we could with the evacuation, and are about to depart from
the Vered Cluster.

This mission cost us dearly. I am not talking about the loss of life, which
perhaps could be minimized if honesty was exercised. I am talking about that
pain that will live in the hearts of this ship's crew, because the
experience of taking people away from what they care about the most leaves
scars even on the strongest of men. And these scars aren't always visible.
The debate whether the mission we took part of was justified or not is
raging throughout the Federation. I asked my people to try and disconnect
themselves from the mayhem that floods the network, but they are not blind
or deaf. Like many Federation citizens who questions their actions, they
question themselves.

I hope that Allah will allow them to continue their lives in peace of mind,
knowing that one thing is a fact. Countless of lives will be saved by the
fact that we leave the Vered Cluster behind.
Perhaps, one day, we will return."

"Blackballed, Part II"

Councilor Eleana, Delta IV
Lt. Commander Th'Khiss K'aa, Unassigned

Diplomatic Corps Auditorium, SF Command
================================

"You'd rip his throat out."

"Yessss."

"With your teeth?"

"Isss there any other way?"

Farek of Vulcan seemed to accept the Gorn's answer at face value, but
the person auditing the interview couldn't suppress the urge to
massage her temples. "Commander, that won't be of help given the
current circumstance. We need your people's help, and masticating the
jugulars of their new ambassador won't be terribly effective."
Councilor Eleana of Delta IV spoke from the back of the room, frowning
as she did so.

K'aa took the rebuff in stride, amused at the choice of words. "Then
perhapsss your attach? should asssk more precisssse and relevant
quessstions", the reptilian suggested. "He asssked what the correct
resssponssse to a calculated insssult would be in Gorn culture,
Councilor. He didn't me for a sssuggesssted Federation reply, and ?
for the record ? we do not masssticate food, it isss consssumed
whole." The Commander turned to glare at the Vulcan, arms crossed
over his barrel-chest. "Next quessstion."

In the darkly-lit conference room, an anonymous diplomat voiced the
department's frustration with a barely audible "Oy". It broke some of
the tension, but only momentarily. The fleet's representative,
Commander K'aa, remained absolutely motionless in the semi-darkness,
and his large eyes reflected the dozens of charts and displays around
the conference-room walls. Most of Eleana's staff preferred to look
at their notes, the ceiling, or each other ? anything other than the
fanged officer.

"How would you suggest persuading your people to assist us?", Farek
asked at last, breaking the silence. "Your suggestions to various
scenarios do not seem terribly helpful."

The reptile finally moved, but only marginally. His upper lip receded
slightly, exposing more fangs than many found comfortable. "With
care, Farek. With guile. We have to persssuade the Hegemony to
provide assissstance, without appearing that we actually need it."

"That we need to negotiate from a position of relative strength goes
without saying, but?"

"But nothing", K'aa interrupted. "Thisss issn't the genteel Klingon
Empire you're dealing with. You have a century'sss worth of d?tente
with the Gorn, without periodsss of firm alliance apart from the
Dominion Warsss. If we presssent them with blood on our scalesss and
throat exposssed. they will deem uss weak and sssuitable for prey ? it
isss the Gorn way, trussst me on thisss."

The last two words K'aa spoke brought a tide of quiet murmurs amongst
the diplomats. Generally speaking, the Diplomatic Corps acted
independently from the fleet-arm of Starfleet, but they were by no
means isolated from fleet 'scuttlebutt'. Of the half-a-dozen or so
Gorn exiles serving the fleet, Commander K'aa was infamous. His
questionable rise in rank was accompanied with tales of insanity,
mutiny, and cold-blooded murder, and despite decorations the young
reptile seemed incapable of shaking the reputation.

Eleana felt the full weight of her years between her shoulder-blades
as she leaned forward closer to her microphone. "What do you suggest,
Commander?"

"Impresss them", the Gorn rumbled and shrugged, before returning to
his stony, immobile posture. "Prove to them you are alliesss worth
fighting with. Pathfinder shipsss for essscort, and a disssplay of
carrier-strength. Thisss mussst be an invitation to a fierce,
hard-fought conflict, not an appeal from a desssperate combatant."

"We're at war, Commander", Farek pointed out. "Capital ships are at
somewhat of a premium right now. Do you Command to divert resources
when we are pressed on three fronts?"

The question managed to draw the brief flickering of K'aa's
nictitating membranes, but little more. "I cannot be accountable for
the dimensional properties of ssspace Missster Farek, and asss for
fleet resssourcesss ? while I am a ssstategissst, I am only a
Commander; I lack the knowledge of our full resssourcesss to suggessst
a courssse of action."

The Deltan steepled her fingers before her in concentration. An
advocate of increased diplomatic efforts with other powers in the
Alpha and Beta Quadrants, she had to admit that the prospect of
negotiating with the reptilians left her cold. Their Spartan code of
ethics and Darwinian outlook was merciless, leaving no room in
existence for what they held to be 'weak'. The Federation was
certainly weak right now ? Corvallis showed that - would the Gorn
sense it? Eleana bowed her head towards the desk, and felt the
tension in her neck stretch out and slowly ease. Finally, she looked
up and glanced directly at the Commander.

"Mister K'aa, I'd like to thank you for your time, but it looks like
we won't be needing your services after all. I'll inform Admiral Bek
of your return to Command."

"Hrrrrr? but?"

"That will be all, Commander."

At slightly under five Terran 'feet' in height, and with the frame of
a dancer the Deltan was less than a quarter of the Gorn's mass, but
her glare and firm voice brooked no debate. The interview was over.

Slowly, K'aa rose and offered the Deltan a shallow bow before leaving the room.

As the tension drained, Farek leaned back and lowered his voice to his
superior. "Ma'am ? do you think that's wise? The Gorn could provide
some valuable insights."

"He said it himself", Eleana said. "He's a strategist, and he's
offering the insights of one. I was hoping for someone closer to a
Hegemony identity ? did you notice it? Every time he said 'we' or
'us', he referred to the Federation. I wanted someone whose loyalties
remained somewhat with his own people, but the Commander's exile from
them seems absolute."

"Then he is of no use to us?"

Eleana smiled slightly, and looked down at her notes. "Not today.
Certainly, Mister K'aa demonstrated a certain aptitude at diplomacy,
but I think for him it was more of a Tactical exercise ? I heard more
of Sun Tsu in his rhetoric than Sarek."

"Pity."

That raised an eyebrow. "Remorse, Mister Farek?"

"Disappointment", Farek concluded, unconcerned with the Deltan's
typically emotional observation. "While warlike, and somewhat savage,
the Commander was an excellent chess player. I was hoping to? how do
humans phrase it? 'make a come-back.'"

"Guilt Enough to Share"

Corporal Cianan Tierney
Cmdr. Brian Elessidil, Chief Counselor

Sickbay

Unlike the feeling of a slowly lifting fog that followed the previous
times in his life that he'd returned to consciousness, this time Brian
woke with a start, an all too late reaction to a blow that had come
from the most unexpected of sources. Immediately, jaw aching and head
throbbing, he realized he wasn't on the New B'Hala colony anymore.
Then his eyes fixed, a little blearily, on the last face he'd seen
before everything went black.

"Cianan?" he managed in a wispy tone of confusion and disbelief.

He knew the emotion. It had been explained to him long ago during the
reintegration process. It was guilt. This wasn't just guilt of the
death of ghosts of the past, but guilt for a counselor, a comrade, a
friend, more?

Cianan remained in sickbay as Brian was treated. He wouldn't leave,
even after requested. Earlier the two were beamed directly from the
shuttlebay for immediate treatment. Cianan spoke short words, giving
the status of the Counselor, "Blunt force trauma causing dislocated
mandible and mild concussion rendering patient unconscious."

The Chief Medical Officer was on site and as the Counselor was a
member of the senior staff immediately took over his treatment. Cianan
didn't go into details of the injury, only answered questions as
asked.

The voice pulled him back into the present. Cianan took a breath in
the form of a heavy sigh and moved closer to the bed upon which Brian
was recuperating. There would be no lasting damage physically, but
some pain and confusion. The psychological damage, at least to Cianan,
was deep.

"Commander?" Cianan said, stepping even closer.

Brian blinked once just to make sure this wasn't some weird dream.
"Did you hit me?"

Cianan looked over his shoulder. No one was within ear shot. He nodded
slowly. "Yes, sir."

The counselor's immediate concern was toward Cianan, though exactly
why he hit him was a close second. Striking a superior officer was
frowned upon, to say the least. "Do you know how much tr-...did
anyone see you?"

The conversation felt like someone punched Cianan in the stomach and
then for shits and giggles did it again. "No, sir. I, uh, wanted to
make sure you were all right. I'll report myself to security."

"Just..wait...." Brian touched Cianan lightly on the arm and pushed
himself into a more upright position. Understanding the potential
significance of the situation, he kept his voice low. "Cianan...what
in the universe would make you do that?"

"Instinct." Cianan said just as hushed. The Angosian had yet to
interpret his actions completely, but generally they were based on
instinctual reaction. His instinct was to get Brian off of the planet
the quickest possible way. "Something was wrong, I can't explain it.
Commander, you weren't you. I...I'm sorry." It was all he could say.

"No...I suppose I wasn't," Brian agreed, recalling back to the
gathering of colonists in the meeting hall. He remembered the tension
and energy in the air, he remembered him beginning to organize an
effort to move the colonists to caves not far from their area before
Cianan asked to speak with him privately away from the crowd.... "What
was I thinking?" he asked to himself as the images came back.
Suddenly, he recalled the whole purpose for their being there in the
first place. "What finally happened with the colonists? Did you get
them to evacuate?"

Cianan was quiet for a moment. "Most of them were convinced and
decided to evacuate and rebuild." He swallowed. "Others wouldn't
leave." Cianan knew their fate. "Sorvin was one of them." The weight
of the words needed no explanation. "Do you need anything?" That
wasn't the question Cianan wanted to ask. Without waiting for an
answer he asked the next, "Do you remember everything?" Cianan said
some things he didn't regret, but were difficult to explain.

A sense of sadness welled up inside as Brian considered the fate of
Sorvin and his family. The counselor truly hoped the whole affair in
the Vered cluster could never have happened in the first place. He
was also beginning to wish he had never been part of it. "Like you
telling me I was unfit for duty?" he asked quietly. Repeating the
words only made the twinge of regret he felt sting all the more.
"Maybe you're right."

Cianan closed his eyes for a moment. If he could he would take the
whole thing back. He wouldn't have gone on the mission, or he would
have gone with Lieutenant London, or he would have negotiated directly
with the colonists, or he would have asked the Counselor to return to
the ship, or he would have asked for support...there were too many
alternatives.

One thing he did know, if he could he would take back all the words he
said - well most of them anyway. "I'm sorry."

Brian shook his head. "Don't be. They should never have sent me to
work with those people. I'm a counselor, not a cattle rustler. I
can't help but see things from their side and in this case that was
the completely wrong approach. Despite what anyone says, Starfleet
wanted someone who would simply go in there and get them to pack up
and leave without a fuss." He looked at Cianan for a moment. "They
needed marines, and especially ones who could evaluate the situation
without letting unnecessary emotions get in the way. You were the
right person for the job and you performed your duty well."

Cianan shook his head. "I didn't perform well." Before the marine was
his superior officer, knocked out by his hands. "I wasn't thinking
clearly. You shouldn't be counseling me either." It seemed old habit
for Brian to empathize with another and to help sort out emotions,
being supportive. He picked up the PADD next to the bed and read it.
"I clocked you. You should be mad, never want to talk to me again.
Have me arrested." It hurt Cianan to say the words aloud.

"Yeah, I could do all those things but to what end? Besides, it
doesn't seem quite right to do something to harm your career when you
may have just saved mine." He paused and nodded at the PADD. "So
what's the diagnosis? Did you break my jaw or just give me nasty
headache?"

Cianan interpreted the results on the PADD, "Just dislocated, it'll be
sore, but fully heal." A devilish smile played across his lips, "I
must be losing my touch."

"Thank goodness. Look, why don't you go. There's a lot of worse-off
around here and I'm sure Kimberly could use your help. I won't be
going anywhere until she gives me the all clear anyway." Brian's
suggestion wasn't entirely for Cianan's benefit. Truth was he was
feeling much too down on himself at the moment to maintain any
semblance of a front for much longer. There was more he wanted to
discuss with Cianan, but he wasn't up to conducting a counseling
session right now. That would have to wait.

Cianan nodded quietly. He turned to find an assignment in sickbay. He
didn't typically serve along side the medical staff, he was usually
out in the field or manning the med station in the marines.

"Cianan...one more thing. As far as my reports on everything that
happened down there are concerned, I was in the wrong place at the
wrong time when one of the natives got restless."

The marine didn't say anything. It wasn't what was on record that
concerned him, it was the fact he had a conscience and that little
voice had grown substantially louder during his time with Brian.

"Black Light, White Sound"

Holodeck Three, Deck 11
==================

"Duchess I'Iannuae, this one is delighted to accept."

Tuning sounds from the orchestra tested the vast chamber of the
Nassari Grand Palais' ballroom as the court nobles took to the
polished onyx floor. Arms entwined and beaming with smiles, the Count
of Velgertaa and the Duchess of Meilli'in were ready when the first
chord struck for the First King's Waltz. The two hand known each
other since childhood, and had grown together at the Nassari court;
their the dance was traditional, and they were well practiced at it
for the pleasure of the court.. and themselves. As the tempo of the
waltz gained in its elegant tempo, Jarajen's smile didn't fade at all.
I'Iannuae was radiant in lavender Tholian silk, sparkling with
amethyst and polished garnet, and her own smile upon her lips. The
genuine delight of the dance and each others company caused the other
nobles to fade from their experience. Together, alone, they permitted
themselves the informality of court speech.

"Jarajen-ae."

"I'Iannuae-ai."

"When will you return from the Human-maj world?"

"They are no longer Human-maj, I'Iannuae-ai," the Count of Velgertaa
whispered just beneath the Duchess' ear, chideing her for using the
Nassari suffix for 'enemy'. "They have earned the title 'Human-jii',
and their friendship has been proven these fifteen years."

"Fifteen years? So long Jarajen-ae? Have you forgotten me?"

The dance demanded a courtesy, followed by a spinning pirouette, then
an embrace. "I'Iannuae-ai, I will never forget you, and here you are
ageless, and beautiful, and mine."

"Jarajen-ae!" the Duchess giggled softly, chiding her courtier.
"Where else would I be?"

~Married~, Jarajen thought as they swayed together gently with the
music. ~A wife, and a mother... with another.~ The dance closed with
the courtier embracing his Duchess from behind with all four arms, his
head resting gently on her shoulder. "Nowhere, I'Iannuae-ai", he said
softly, his words a gentle caress on her ear. "We are here, we are
together - there is nothing else."

Duchess I'Iannuae of Meilli'in twirled, and smiled, then flickered
into a static grey as the Grand Palais melted into a sickening web of
neon yellow and blackness. Quattro found himself tumbling to aft in a
surreal, slow-motion twist as he struggled to maintain his glance at
I'Iannuae smile, and screamed as his left limbs struck the cold, hard
surface of the holodeck wall. A dry snap, and something less crisp
and more painful and the Nassari felt the sickly sweet taste of
adrenaline surge into his mouth, then the intense pain of two
fractured arms. The neon grid flickered once, then a darkness fell
upon the large room filled only with the roaring howl of vacuum
claiming the atmosphere of the corridor outside.

"Quaaliu to the Bridge."

....

"Quaaliu to the Bridge!"

...

The pilot struggled awkwardly to his feet, clenching his teeth with
the effort. Using his uninjured arms, he felt along the holodeck's
walls until he stumbled upon the smooth plastic surface of the
holodeck controls. The panel was dead, offering not even a flicker or
spark of life. Next to it, the howl of the vacuum was now a scream as
the sound of rushing air leaving Galaxy's hull pierced the walls of
the thick bulkhead.

"Quaaliu to the Bridge!"

[Br..ge here Li..ten..t. We have y//r posi...//, Re5c//ue cr..ws
are on th//e// way, The..zzz //en a br...ch. Use //...ion
prec...ss. Equi... ////...........]

"Quaaliu to the Bridge! Repeat last message!"

All the CAG could gain from his comm badge was an intense crackle of
white sound. Wide-eyed in the absolute blackness and forcing himself
into calm, Quattro leaned against the dead panel, remembering his
training. In ten years of service, the Nassari had never found
himself on a ship during a crisis event - fortune had always had him
secure in a fighter's cockpit. Now, alone and on his feet he found
himself strangely powerless to do anything to shape his destiny.
~Hull breach~ crossed his mind, and all the ramifications and
consequences that event caused slammed into his both hearts. Quckly,
he sank to his knees and fumbled painfully for the small compartment
latch beneath the holodeck controls, clutching for what he prayed
would be there.

A smooth, plastic rectangle? First-aid kit?

Useless.

Small, cellophane squares? Food-rations?

A small, thin tube of soft plastic?

Quattro took the tube with both right hands and bent it in half, then
shook it with all his might. He was rewarded with a sickly, pale
green glow as the chemical reaction of the cyalume and hydrogen
peroxide inside the tube grew. With the faint light, he managed to
find what he had really been looking for, a small, flat silvery circle
enveloped in cellophane. Quickly, painfully, Jaragen stripped the
package of its wrapping and unfurled the bag to it's most open -
approximately four feet in diameter. Pulling the silvery material
over his shoulder and putting his upper body through the thin,
highlighted slit, Quattro pressed the activation stud at the deepest
point in the material's fabric. In seconds, the pilot found himself
comfortably in a silvery, air-insulated cocoon, and even the fall back
to the holodeck floor was relatively painless.

Still, the emergency rad shelter could only shield for so long, and
resist only so much.

*"Arriving at the Prison"*

Marine Captain Man'darr Maivia
Lieutenant Branwen London
Warrant Officer Sandra Gates (Chris)
Sergeant Tabica Inari (Cami)
Private So'kol (Chris)
Gral'meshketh Grek'lr (Mike)

The large Hydran shuttle switched on its transponder as the pilot requested
clearance from the Altroth Three Prison Traffic Control. After a moment
clearance was granted along with a specified flight path for the shuttle to
take as it entered the lower atmosphere of Altroth Three.

Branwen was sitting next to her husband holding on to him, doing a not so
good job of not trying to look scared. "They will come after us, won't
they?" She whispered.

"Yes," he said simply, trying to reassure Branwen. He did not want her to
panic.

The prisoners all sat in steel seats with wrists and ankles shackled and
chained to the seats in which they sat. Oxygen masks were worn by each
prisoner in the methane-filled shuttle. Man'darr had been restrained with
stronger and tighter restraints due to his capellan strength.

"The hydrans don't have a good reputation were it comes to the treatment
of prisoners. I don't want them to hurt you." She whispered again. "I hope
they keep us together. She looked to the other prisoners. The hydrans had
taken Corporal Beckett and there was also a sergeant by the looks of it.

"Are you all okay?" Bran asked trying to look chipper.

Samantha Beckett nodded simply in the seat next to a female Starfleet
ensign. Just then a Hydran guard walked down the middle aisle and glared
at Branwen. "Silence, human female! There is no talking allowed by any
prisoner!"

The shuttle shook some as it entered into the lower stratosphere of Altroth
Three, aimed at the small island which held one the Hydran's most brutal
prisons.

Tabica Inari said nothing, she only glared at the Hydran guard. Being
restrained didn't sit well with her.

The Vulcan So'kol didn't verbally answer, finding any response that enraged
their Hydran captors at their point illogical. He was already preparing
himself for what the training instructors had stated would come next. All
Starfleet Marines were versed in survival, escape, resistance, and evasion
techniques. He gave the Lieutenant a nod, knowing she wanted a response,
but his interpretation of resistance was much more subtle than most.

Branwen stayed silent as well. She could only pray that they would all get
out alive. Hydrans did not have a very good track record where it came to
female prisoners of war especially. And although they all had some training
in interrogation resistance she feared for her fellow soldiers very much.

Man'darr's thoughts raced with a way to escape. The titanium restraints
that bonded him to the chair were too thick and strong. Yet he had to try
to escape without getting any of the others, especially Branwen harmed.

The pilot followed the last course change as the shuttle dropped into the
troposhere, passing through the clouds. The tiny island grew in size
quickly. After being scanned, as a last precaution by the prison's sensor
network, the shuttle pad was cleared for landing as armed guards took up
positions around the pad where the prisoners would be offloaded. The
landing pad was
surrounded with a forcefield and was connected to a narrow concourse that
led into the prison facility. Tall, dark, mostly deformed trees that had
been engineered to produce methane instead of oxygen surrounded the complex.
Without following the precise flight plan, a shuttle could easily go off
course, and miss the pad and base completely. A minute later, the shuttle
switched to its vertical engines as it slowly lowered itself onto the pad.
With only a slight thud, the shuttle touched down. The pilot immediately
cut the engines and opened the main hatch door.

Inside the hydran guards were relieved to finally be at the prison after
the long flight. "Prisoners, on your feet!" called the guard captain as
the restraints from the seats were released with a press of a button. The
guard captain pressed another button to seal the wrist restraints to each
other magnetically. Upon sealing, the restraints locked together, ensuring
the seal.

"Now move out in an orderly fashion!"

Branwen was behind Man'darr in the lineup, and the other prisoners were
behind her. She was trying very hard not to look as intimidated as she
felt, and she continued to pray that they would not be separated.

Tabica ended up the next prisoner after Branwen. Finding a way to escape
was important but she also knew that they had to time anything they did
just right. Too many things were running through the Betazoid's thoughts at
the moment.

Private So'kol followed, and although he did everything that was ordered of
him, like Man'darr he was keeping one eye out for any viable escape
opportunity. He noticed the planet itself had a methane atmosphere, with
only this apparent prison facility supporting an environment suitable for
breathing. It would make escape infinitely more difficult, although not
impossible. It was likely there was a Hydran military facility nearby for
garrison purposes, and where there was a military facility there were
likely to be shuttles.

Grek'lr was sitting in his office on top of the prison facility. The
warden's office was positioned so that he would have a commanding view of
the entire island complex. He'd just personally attended the interrogation
of some of the Starfleet personnel captured on Corvallis and was enjoying
his midday meal when his com chirped to life.

"Gral'meshketh. Shuttle 6 is on final approach with the prisoners from
Vered. "

As his eyestalks turned to see the shuttle on approach Grek'lr responded.

"Very good. Have detachment 3 meet me on the landing pad. Or wait, this is
the shipment with the Capellan is it not."

"Yes warlord. "

"Have detachment 7 come as well then, we might need the extra guards. I'll
be on the pad in a few minutes."

"Of course Warlord."

Grek'lr always insisted on being present when new prisoners arrived. It
allowed him to see them first hand and smell their fear himself. He was
especially interested when interesting prisoners arrived and this Capellan
would be an interesting challenge.

Deeper inside the labyrinth of corridors, prison cells, guard rooms and
surveillance facilities, Warrant Officer Sandra Gates tried peering outside
her cell to see what was happening. The guards in the facility were
normally sedate unless they wanted you for something, and even then they
never send more than 2 or 3 of the guards to get you. The only time they
really got this frantic was when one of the 'royal pains' as they'd been
dubbed showed up for an inspection, or when...

And then her heart sank when she heard the distinctive tone of Federation
Standard being spoken. It was yet another new crop of prisoners. Sandra
had been a nurse aboard the USS Klis'sek, a Miranda Class starship in the
final year of it's service that had the unfortunate historical distinction
of being the oldest Federation starship lost in the Hydran offensive on
Corvalis. Most of the survivors had opted to go underground, to try and
hold out against the inevitable surface invasion that they knew would be
coming.

She had opted to stay with the injured... figuring she was no commando and
her skills were best used trying to save whom she could. She had been
joined by Doctor L'argo, the ship's Chief Medical Officer, at one point
however she hadn't heard from him in quite some time.
Bran knew it was going to be hard. There were so many guards and they looked
like they knew what they were doing. Now they definitely were not going to
be able to escape. But what if they were separated? Their chances would only
diminish then. The lieutenant swallowed glad nobody could see her fear.

The Hydrans soon nudged the females away from the males. "Where are we
going?" Man'darr insisted.

"To your new home. Now be silent, prisoner!" a guard stated firmly.

Man'darr fought the urge to strike the guard, knowing that Branwen could be
harmed during the struggle. Instead he began to head down the corridor.

Corporal Samantha Beckett was behind Sergeant Inari as they were ushered
down the winding and dim corridor.

"Dar!" Bran shouted out. "Don't worry, love, it will be okay." She couldn't
help it. The Welshwoman was so worried about him.

Man'darr remained silent as he was led down to another set of cells until
they came to an empty one. The heavy titanium door with a small viewing
port slid open. "Alright, get in there, starfleet," one of the guards
ordered as he shoved the butt of his rifle into Man'darr's back.

In retaliation, Man'darr slammed his elbow into the hydran, whose face had
been protected with a plexiglass dome filled with methane. The force of the
strike still knocked the guard to the floor.

The other guards immediately raised their rifles in Man'darr's direction.
"Don't try it again, capellan," another guard said.

Man'darr grunted and entered the cell with the door sealing shut behind him
as the guards moved the vulcan to the next cell.

In the female section, Corporal Beckett and Lieutenant London were tossed
into a cell together with the door closing behind them, whose viewing port
was larger than the isolation cell Man'darr had been placed into. Next
down, they tossed the female marine sergeant in with the female Starfleet
nurse.

A few minutes later, all the prisoners had been assigned their cells and
secured.

?Emergency Surgery? Part 2

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton ? Chief Medical Officer
Colonel For?kel Arvelion ? Marine Detachment Commanding Officer

= = = = = USS Galaxy ? Main Sickbay = = = = =

A million different dreams played in For?kel?s head while he slept. They
ran the whole range of emotions and experiences, from his first kiss to his
first heart break, first successes and failures, his academy and school days,
basic training and the exchange program, his service before and in Starfleet
(including 3 different Mirandas and now the Galaxy)... everything. If you
thought there was nothing as exhilarating as getting shot at without result,
you should try nearly getting killed in the process.

It was a good deal many hours later before he realized they were dreams,
however powerful they might have been... and some of them were ?really?
powerful. A holonovel would have nothing on the clarity (or emotion) that many of
them provoked.

Then he noticed the bright light... the shadowy, angelic face staring down
at him. Only one angel though? If this was heaven he was going to start
looking for the complaints department.

Especially considering the noises, beeps and hums, were damned annoying.

?Yamana?le Prophetus...? The Colonel murmured, reaching for his pounding
forehead to no avail. He heard the distinctive crackling of forcefields,
though he couldn?t immediately process the recognizable traits at first.

His eyes fluttered open, the same way they did whenever your pupils hadn?t
been exposed to light for some time. The angelic image was gone as well.
There wasn?t anyone around, at least not immediately, he could tell through his
squinting... though the light rather quickly overwhelmed him and he shut his
eyes in defence. His ears on the other hand picked up the tell-tale sound of
footfalls.

And then the pain hit. ?Ow, damnit!?

?Easy there Colonel,? Kimberly suggested, glad the restraining fields had
prevented him from moving, ?you?re not going anywhere just yet.? She advised
him gently. ?We?ve just spent a while putting you back into working order,
I?d hate to see all that good work wasted.?

?You and me both, afidav.? For?kel murmured as he went to reach for his
forehead, only to hear the sizzle of the restraining field. ?This is starting
to get annoying.?

?What?s the last thing you remember?? She asked, there was no sign of
trauma to his brain from lack of oxygen, but the humanoid brain was a tricky
thing.

?Waking up.? Came the automatic reply before he managed to actually think
about the intention of the question. ?Oh, you mean before being hit?
Tossing a flash grenade, why?? Before she could answer, he bombarded her with
another question. ?That kid, where is he? Is he all right??

Shaking her head Kimberly had to admit she had no idea. The marines had
only told her about the Colonel while she was there, she hadn?t been aware of
any other casualties at that point. ?I?m afraid I don?t know Colonel,? she
apologised, ?I can have someone check if you like??

?Please?? The last thing they needed was a death to harden colonist
resistance against them.

Looking at a nearby nurse she silently indicated she should check, as she
did Kimberly sat by the Colonel. ?I?m sorry about the restraining field, but
for the moment while the regen therapy is running I?d rather you not move
your injured arm at all. We were able to repair the damage, but you?ll be
needing some regenerative work to fully heal the injury. Same goes for your lung,
the damage was repairable, so there?ll be no need for any replacement
surgery, but you need time to heal. I?m afraid you?ll not be running around with
your marines for a little while yet.?

?That?s all right, I?m over due for a vacation anyway.? For?kel smiled,
it was the best way he could think of to ignore the pain, dulled as it was by
pain killer and medication. ?At least this way I can forgo the paperwork.?
He took a deep breath before tilting his head to observe the chief medical
officer more directly. ?Bored yet, doctor??

?Honestly Colonel, I, like every other Doctor would relish the day when
everyone in the universe wakes up secure in the knowledge that they?ll die
peacefully in their sleep of natural old age so we can enjoy being bored. Until
then, nope, not bored.? She announced as she flipped open her tricorder. ?I
should be asking you that really, can I get you anything??

?Actually, I?d like to head to my quarters and take a shower, maybe change.?
Combat uniforms were loose enough to be fairly comfortable, but nothing
beat a pair of broken in sweat pants and a worn-in T-shirt. ?I could be back
in fifteen minutes.?

?Sorry Colonel, maybe you haven?t looked down yet but you have one of our
stylish and fashionable hospital gowns on at the moment, and that?s dress of
the day for you for the moment. You?ll be our guest here for a while until I?
m satisfied your injuries are healed enough to let you go, sorry.? Looking
around for the nurse who had gone to check on the civilian she spied her
still talking to a wall panel, wishing she would hurry she changed topics for
now, ?While I have you here though, mind if I ask you something about Lieutenant
London?? This might not really have been the best of times to broach the
subject, but she did have a captive audience at the moment, and taking his mind
of current affairs would give him something else to think about anyway.

?So I?m being held against my will, in someone else?s clothes, and about to
be bombarded with questions for information?? For?kel blinked, before
staring up at the ceiling. ?Arvelion, For?kel. Rank Colonel, Starfleet Marine
Corps. Alpha Delta 5-5-1-2 Epsilon.? It was meant sarcastically, but the
tease was performed flawlessly none the less.

Laughing merrily Kimberly had to admit to herself that she liked him, and
his humour was well timed. ?Point taken Colonel,? she admitted, ?I?m just
making conversation though, we should have your scans and test results back
soon so I thought I?d just fill the time while we wait. I was only asking about
Lieutenant London because I spoke to her a short while back and I was
curious as to your thoughts on the matter.?

What a coincidence, the Chief Medical Officer was an acquaintance of Branwen
London... if he believed in conspiracy theories this one would?ve sent him
screaming to the nearest computer terminal so he could upload his traumatic
experience complete with circumstantial and fabricated evidence so that
everyone could see it.

Still, Doctor Burton was being as polite as possible, so it would?ve been
very unfair not to return the favour. Besides, it looked like they were going
to be here for a while, or at least such is what he surmised from what he?d
been told (and felt). Her laugh had a very disarming quality to it,
especially as most people he regularly talked to who?s name he would not mention
(though he was thinking of Arel as a prime example) would have punched him in the
wounded arm for that kind of sarcasm.

Sighing to himself, he figured there really wasn?t any everlasting harm in
talking about it. ?Which thoughts in particular would you like to discuss??

?Well, I was going to try and catch up with you before you went planetside,
but one thing and another kept me busy.? She apologised. ?She?s obviously
in some trouble regarding what happened between her and her husband, from
what I understand due to lying to you about what actually transpired. Would you
mind if I asked what happens next?? Looking up as her ER nurse returned she
accepted the offered PADD with a smile, ?Thanks.? She said as she scanned
the note on it.

?Commander Tarin chased me all the way down to the shuttle bay...? for some
reason her ?catching up? comment provoked that memory, and made him chuckle
with irony. ?Never did find out what she wanted to talk to me about. In
either case you don?t need to worry about it, life gets pretty hectic before
lift-off.? He licked his lips... damn he could use a glass of water. ?As for
Lieutenant London, if I didn?t need officers she would still be restricted
to her quarters.?

?The colonist you were concerned about is in the brig,? she reported, ?
alive and well. A medic checked him over downplanet and had him beamed straight
there.?

He let out a genuine, heartfelt breathe of relief at that news. ?Thanks be.
? It was more than the fact his death would have put the mission in risk,
the kid, and he did seem to be a kid, acted on behalf of his beliefs. It was
something For?kel understood all too well, even if this time they were on the
opposite side because of it. ?I appreciate the news doctor Burton.?

?No problem Sir, I?ll have Maria keep you informed of any other
developments as well.? Raising an eyebrow she looked thoughtful for a second. ?You
say Lieutenant London would still be confined if you hadn?t needed officers?
Mind if I ask why??

?Correct, and I do mind... I?m not even sure I could adequately explain it.?
He thought for a moment, and as he did owe her his life, he figured there
was nothing wrong with answering her question. ?There are 165 Marines
embarked on the Galaxy, all of whom I am ultimately responsible for. I depend on
my officers and senior non-comms in order to safe guard their lives as best as
physically possible given the nature of our missions. Information is a key
ingredient in battle, and she readily withheld it from me in order to further
her own desires. By doing so, she endangered the lives of many of her
brothers and sisters in arms, all out of fear for herself and her husband?s ?
career?. This isn?t the Federation Council, Starfleet Command, or Starfleet
Intelligence, Doctor... we are Starfleet Marines. Here, that kind of action is
intolerable. We are not politicians, back-stabbers, or assassins... we are
soldiers, and by that definition discipline ?means? something.?

For a brief moment she considered what Branwen had done and looked at it
based on the Marine perspective and what the Colonel had said. Had one of her
staff done anything similar she had to admit she would have to follow it up,
though confining them to quarters would be a little excessive, each to their
own though. ?Thank you Sir, and I do understand. When you?re in the middle
of a fight you need to be able to implicitly trust the person beside and
behind you.?

For?kel gave a nod in agreement. ?I?m sorry I can?t articulate it any
better.?

?I appreciate the explanation Sir.? Accepting a PADD from a nurse she
scanned it quickly, ?Well, most of your test results are back, and I?m glad to
say everything looks good. You?ll have to stay a while longer but we should
have you back on light duty in a day or so. Until then relax and enjoy the
hospitality.? She ordered him lightly with a smile.

?Well if it?s just an issue of relaxation, why can?t I head home??

?Because we still have some regen therapy to do on your arm and chest
tissue, without it you may find your recovery taking weeks instead of days. Just
lay there and think of it as a few days off. Doctors orders.? She added
firmly, ?Bullets do a great deal of collateral damage, you were lucky, so let?s
not push it. Okay.?

"What, that little thing? I've seen thorns grow bigger." For'kel smirked,
before finally acquiescing. "All right doctor, fair enough."

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

(A couple of hours Later)

For'kel had gone to sleep when Kimberly's shift had ended. After all, the
nurses had better things to do then entertain one bored Colonel, and the pain
was substantially less when one was asleep.

"Sir?"

For'kel had heard the voice, a male voice, but was in that quasi-sleeping
state where trying to identify the voice as dream or authentic in origin was
virtually possible, so he didn't even try.

"Sir?" The voice insisted.

The Colonel opened one eye, squinted, and slowly came around. "Not exactly
the face I was dreaming of."

"Heh, funny sir." Staff Sergeant Ilal grinned momentarily, though it very
quickly faded. "I've got some... news... from the colony."

Oh fuck, that didn't sound good at all. "Don't keep it to yourself,
Sergeant."

"Captain Maivia, Lieutenant London, and two other Marines with them are
missing, sir. They've missed their last 3 report in schedules, and I haven't
been able to raise them over the tac-net or on open comm lines."

"What? What do you mean 'missing'?!"

"As in not here, sir."

"I know what you mean, that's not the point!" For'kel growled before
quickly remembering that the medical staff wasn't too far away. Fortunately for
him, this shift seemed preoccupied with caring for the wounded and the
colonists. "Do me a favor Sergeant, deactivate this forcefield."

"Aye sir." The Trill NCO had been around long enough to realize that
sometimes standard procedures had to be circumvented for the greater good of
things. With the condition as it was, someone needed to be in charge on the planet
to reorganize the Marines and continue on the mission.

As soon as the forcefield dropped, For'kel sat up, wincing as he did and not
without the Sergeant's assistance, but sitting up none the less. The
colonists had gone and made things personal. "I've got a way out of here... be
quiet and follow me."

The only indication that anyone had ever been in the bed was a four word

"Out of my mind ... back in five minutes."

Dr. Kimberly Burton
Lt. Ella Grey

*****

USS Galaxy ? Sickbay

Like many of the officers on board the Galaxy (or in Starfleet),
getting Ella into Sickbay for her check-up had taken nothing short of
pleading, begging, and finally outright threats from the scheduling
manager.

It wasn't that she had some deep-seated fear of the place (there had
been times before when the staff had seen Ella every other day for
training injuries) but she usually found that there were better things
that she wanted to do with her off time. Like clean her bathroom.
There had also been the small matter of her new found gift from Corran
Rex that she hadn't really wanted to share, knowing that a barrage of
tests would shortly follow.

But she couldn't put it off forever (the very words that had been used
before the 'we'll have you grounded' and 'we'll sick Malgin on you'
had begun) and even she had to admit that there wasn't really much for
her to do on her down time anyway.

Oh, Ella darling, she thought. You really need to get a life.

"Reported as ordered. Finally," Ella said with a tired smile. They had
left the Vered Cluster almost a week ago but most people she talked to
still felt emotionally exhausted. She had tried to work up some deeper
feelings of sympathy for the colonists but mostly she just felt an
ever growing sense of loss that had nothing to do with them.

Looking the lieutenant up and down for a second, Arrietty nodded, "Of
course Lieutenant??" she enquired.

"Grey."

"Have a seat," indicating a biobed, "I'll have a doctor come over to
you." Leaving the young woman to get on the bed the nurse walked to
the CMO's office and stuck her head around the door. "Doctor,
Lieutenant Grey is here."

"Thanks, Arrietty." Deactivating her terminal, Kimberly got up and
walked over to her first actual patient of the day. "Lieutenant," she
greeted Ella as she approached, "how are you today?"

"Pretty good," Ella replied. "Yourself?"

"About the same." Kimberly replied. Listening to the tone of the
artificial voice Ella was using she frowned slightly, "How's the vocal
synthesiser working? If I recall we were a bit rushed last time we
saw each other. As the ship isn't in imminent danger of another red
alert," ~ I hope! ~ she added silently, "we can look at better
alternatives now if you like?"

"I've been making modifications to the patch here and there," The
pilot said, shaking her head firmly. "It's fine."

"Okay then, well if you change your mind or need any assistance give
me a shout. In the meantime, sit back, relax and think happy
thoughts. This shouldn't take long." Kimberly promised. Setting the
bed scanners running, she flipped open her tricorder. "Anything you
need to tell me? Anything odd or weird happen lately you want to
mention?" She asked as she ran a few routine scans, her standard
questions flowing off her tongue almost automatically now

Ella shrugged and lied. "Nope, everything's been fine."

Nodding, "Other than the voxbox I take it?"

The flight officer gave a genuine sigh. "Besides that."

"Okay." Looking at the readouts Kimberly nodded as she watched the
scan results list themselves, "No weird alien parasites that I can
see," she assured Ella with a smile, "bones look healthy? How often do
you work out?" She asked as she continued to run her scanner over
Ella.

"About four to five times a week."

"Okay, overall your muscle tone looks good, though you might want to
add a few more flexibility exercises for your back, you're spending
more time sitting down now you're in a cockpit with the SaR." She
advised. Checking eyesight and hearing next she nodded her approval
at the results, satisfied there were no problems there. "How's your
diet?" She asked as she set a neuro scan running. "Do you cook for
yourself? Or are you a replicator chef?"

Ella smiled. "I wouldn't exactly say chef but I use the replicator.
Faster food."

"Agreed, and I have to admit it is more convenient. It also means
though your meals are reasonably balanced and suited for your
physiology. Some non human food may taste good, but it's not terribly
nutritious for us." Frowning slightly as she watched the neuro scan
progress she scanned Ella's file quickly to check her notes. Turning
to her patient she raised an eyebrow. "You haven't been hit round the
head lately by any chance have you? Or exposed to anything out of the
ordinary that hasn't been reported?"

Ella kept her face neutral. "No, why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that I'm picking up some elevated neural activity in
your brain, it's a little above normal levels based on your previous
checkups." Seeing Ella's face she hastened to add, "I don't think
it's anything to worry about, but I would like to run a few more scans
if that's okay?"

"Oh, if you're sure there's nothing to worry about I'm sure it's
fine," Ella began.

"Just to be on the safe side," Kimberly assured her. Gathering a few
extra devices she set up the scans. "Sit back, this won't take long."

"If you think it's best," The pilot replied, wondering how best to
handle the upcoming question. Well, she had been experimented on
once, maybe she could just blame it on that. Then there was the whole
Romulan katra thing. The weird cactus juice thing. Maybe Burton would
buy those.

Not likely, she thought.

Setting the detailed neuro scans running Kimberly watched the data
accrue. As it did her eyebrows rose fractionally as she began to
interpret it. Placing an extra device on Ella's forehead for more
fine resolution scans she watched as a picture began to form of the
neural activity within her patient's brain.

After what must have seemed like an age to Ella but was probably only
about five minutes Kimberly looked at her. "Lieutenant, have you been
experiencing anything? out of the ordinary lately?" She started
tactfully, "Odd flashes of information or insight, voices or such
like?" She asked.

Ella picked at the sleeve of her uniform for a minute. It was tempting
to lie even though the medical evidence would trump any performance
she could give but in the end it seemed like lying would be more
trouble than it was worth - even with the great number of excuses she
had to pick from.

"Yes," Ella admitted. "Corran Rex and I had some kind of psychic
connection thing just after the attacks. We can sorta read each others
minds now."

"Sorta read each others minds?" Kimberly repeated, her eyebrows
raising in surprise. "And you were thinking of reporting this
when?... Were you thinking of reporting this?" She asked after a
moments thought. A trace of disbelief was obviously evident in her
voice, but there was more in her mind, an obvious alteration to brain
chemistry and function and it hadn't been reported! Unbelievable!

"No, I wasn't. It was personal," Ella replied sharply at Burton's
look. "It's not hurting me. I barely notice anything now that he's
gone."

"It may be personal, but it's also an unexplained medical condition
that has affected your neural structure." Kimberly explained
patiently. "To start with your serotonin levels are low, not
dangerously but certainly lower than is normal."

Ella frowned. "And what does that do?"

"Serotonin. Well, let's see, it's a neurotransmitter and it's one of
the primary regulators of things such as anger, aggression, body
temperature, mood, sleep, sexuality, and appetite." Running her
scanner over Ella again she rechecked several scans, "your body temp
is a little lower than normal, but not outside the range of human
variables," she stated, "any of the other things I mention bring
anything to mind? Changes in appetite? Feeling down a lot?"

"He's gone," The pilot said. "The closest I've ever been to anyone and
he ... had to leave." She gave a half smile and it felt like an effort
even for that. "Yes, I guess I feel down a lot. My appetite is great
though."

"Have you spoken to 'anyone' about any of this?" Kimberly queried,
"Even a friend?"

Ella ran through the short list of people that she could possibly talk to. "No."

"Well, for starters, might I suggest you have a chat with one of the
PSI qualified counsellors aboard?" Kimberly offered. "Mainly so they
can help ascertain what abilities you're now in possession of, but
also they're better qualified to assist you, and they might be able to
help us understand what has happened. We'll need to run a complete
neurological scan, and monitor your condition in case your new found
abilities suddenly expand."

"If you like," The pilot said. Truthfully she thought the connection
affected Corran more than it did her, but Ella didn't want them to
hound her ex. And, strangely, the idea of talking to someone sounded
appealing for once in her life.

You're crossing over to the dark side, Ella told herself sadly. Next
you're going to buy conservative dresses and then it's all down hill
from there.

"I would strongly advise you to, please." Kimberly asked. "I'll set
up a full neuro scan shortly so we can make sure everything else is
okay. Is there anything else I should know about that's changed?"

"Nope," Ella replied and then smiled. "Scout's honour."

"Okay then, well give me a moment to set this up then once we've done
the scan you can go." Kimberly promised. "I will need your
permission to pass the neurological scan results to the PSI counsellor
though if that's alright? They'll need that information, so unless
you have any objections?"

"Sure," She replied. "No objections."

"Thank you. Well, sit back and this shouldn't take long." Kimberly promised.

"Damage Control Part 2"

Ensign Alexandra Lee (APC--Aaron)

Having been inoculated against the radiation as well as now wearing
protective radiation suits, the damage control teams had moved deeper into
the damaged sections of the ship. We've gotta get this radiation off the
ship!" a petty officer called out as ducked just in time as the heat from
the radiation caused and EPS conduit to rupture, showering the area with
sparks.

Even through her protective suit, the bulkheads felt hot with radiation.
The radiation control systems in the damaged area were offline and heavily
damaged. Sweat beaded down Alex's face as thoughts ran through her mind.
She had never encountered anything this serious and was not trained to
handle this sort of radiation contamination of a starship. She closed her
eyes, hoping someone else would come and take over and the burden would then
be off of her. She wanted this nightmare to end. Her body ached with every
movement--she was exhausted. She then shook her head as she knew she was
the officer in charge and now was not a time to show weakness in front of
the others. "What the hell do we do about the damn radiation?" she
whispered to herself.

"I'm running low on oxygen," called a crewman. "I'll be back when my
regulator is recharged with fresh air."

*Air,* Alex thought. *Didn't I study in the academy about early nuclear
disasters and air? What was it?* "Petty Officer Anders! You're a Naval
Historian Buff. How did the primitive navies of Earth deal with Nuclear
accidents on their vessels?"

"The ancient Soviet Empire had a few reactor accidents on their nuclear
vessels called submarines. I believe the standard emergency procedure would
be for them to surface the vessel and...vent the air!" Anders said the last
bit with ethusiatism. "We need to vent this radiation somehow!"

"We need these emergency forcefields offline! We can then vent the
radiation out into space!" Alex then slapped her communicator. =/\=Ensign
Lee to any persons on Decks Twelve, Thirteen, and Fourteen! Please evacuate
the decks immediately as we need to vent the radiation out into space! You
have five minutes! Ensign Lee, out! Ensign Lee to Engineering! We need to
take the established forcefields offline to vent the radition into space!
We need those decks completely decompressed in order for this to work!=/\=

=/\=Are you sure about this, Ensign Lee?=/\= came a female's voice.

=/\=As sure as I can be, ma'am. I don't see any other alternative with the
radiation control systems offline in these areas. We need this done in five
minutes.=/\=

=/\=Acknowledged. Engineering, out.=/\=

"Everyone get to Deck Fifteen, now!" Alex ordered as she opened a nearby
hatch leading to the jeffries tubes as the damage control team and medical
team began to evacuate the deck, clambering down the ladder. Two minutes
later, the last person went through the hatch and headed down the ladder.
Alex followed immediately, closing the hatch behind her. The jeffries tubes
were echoing from the numerous people making their way off of the decks.

Alex climbed down the ladder as fast as her feet and hands could propel
her. As she set her foot on Deck Fifteen, the ship shook violently as the
emergency forcefields dropped on the damaged decks. Dead bodies that had
been unreachable as well as loose debris were torn out of the damaged decks
and into the vast ocean of space. Fires were immediately extinguished with
the suffication of oxygen. Alex moved to a nearby access terminal and
brought up the interior sensors, which indicated the radiation levels were
rapidly falling. Another minute passed before the oxygen had been
completely removed from the damaged decks. Alex saw that the radiation
levels were still above normal but far below lethal level that it had been.

At the hull breaches that had cleansed the decks, the emergency forcefields
came back online as oxygen once again began to fill the decks through the
environmental vents.

=/\=Lee to all damage Control Teams. The decks are safe to return to. Lets
get back to work, people. Ensign Lee, out.=/\= Alex immediately made her
way back up to Deck Fourteen. With the radiation and majority of the debris
cleared from the decompression. Work would go alot faster now...

"Cellmates"

1st Lieutenant Branwen London

Corporal Samantha Beckett (NPC--Aaron)

"Are you alright?" Branwen asked the corporal when she had her bearings in
the small cell. There were too small beds above each other, something that
passed for a toilet, and that was about it, barely room to maneuver in the
rest of the cell.

"Yes, Ma'am," she said looking down as her wrist restrainsts unlocked from
each other and then back at the woman. "How are you, ma'am?"

"I'm fine." She smiled. "And under the circumstances I think ma'am sounds
a bit silly, my name is Branwen."

"Sorry, ma'am...Branwen. I am Corporal Samanatha Beckett."
"I know who you are. Do you prefer Samantha or Sam?" She asked kindly.
"Come, let us sit down."

Samantha is fine," she said as she sat down on the bench that served as a
bed. This is my first time being captured...I could think of at least a
dozen different places I'd rather be right now," she said light-heartedly.

"I know, but you know the Marine Corps, we never leave anyone behind, so I
can tell you that right now they are already searching for us.
Unfortunately for me it's not my first time." Branwen admitted.

"I am sorry to hear that. What did you mean when you asked that woman back
on B'Hala if she knew what Hydrans did to female prisoners? Do you know?"

"I am sure it will not be that bad, I was bluffing." Branwen tried to
smile, and not show her own fear. The memories of the other time the
Hydrans had taken her prisoner were starting to resurface. She had pushed
them away all this time. The Lieutenant knew this was not going to be easy,
especially not on the women. "I will do my best to protect you, Samantha."

"I'm tough enough," the woman said. "I did well in SERE training. I'm not
infantry for nothing."

"You are tough." Branwen agreed. "And we are still together, together we
are strong. You went through the pow training?" She asked.

"Yeah. I served one year as a scout sniper, so POW Training was part of my
training."

"Good. And if you want to talk about any thing, I'm here, you probably know
that am also the staff psychologist." Branwen smiled sheepishly. "On the
other hand we can also talk about completely other things."

"Yes, I know you're a psychologist. So what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything you would like to talk about? I know so little about you,
Samantha, do you have a boyfriend for example?" Branwen forced herself to
relax and forget where they were.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend. Finding a good man isn't ideal while in the
corps. You lucked out with Captain Maivia. That is one fine body that he
has. Ohh, sorry," she realized what she had just said.

But Branwen giggled. "He does have a good body, doesn't he. And he is a
very nice guy, don't tell him I said that. He tries to be tough at work. I
am sure that one day you will find that special guy yourself."

"Maybe. Right now, the corps is my life."

"How old are you, if I may ask?"

"I'm 22...but I feel older sometimes," she replied with a grin.

"I can imagine, I'm not that much older myself, yet with everything we go
through in the corps, and on the ship, it feels like we are going through so
much more than other people, you know what I mean?"

Samantha nodded, brushing aside a strand of dark brown hair from her face.
"Yeah. I was raised on a farm in southern california on Earth. Where were
you raised?"

"Wales for the most part, and later California as well. I went to the
Marine academy of course but when I was a teenager I lived with my sister
and at the time she was an instructor at the naval academy in San
Francisco. I really liked California, it is so different from where I grew
up."

"Yeah, I loved both the beach and the desert. I used to spend my free time
either swimming or climbing moutains in the desert."

"I loved the beach." Branwen said. "I used to go surfing and swimming.
So, what made you decide for the corps?"

"Because I've always been a bit on the rough side with two older brothers.
They both joined the Marines and I wanted to do so as well....so here I am.
What about you?"

"I wanted to enter Starfleet, but since my sister was very successful in the
Navy I wanted to make my own mark, so I chose the Marines, and never
regretted it. She's a starship Captain now, I'm really proud of her."

"Thats cool. My brother is a Staff Sergeant and my other brother is a first
lieutenant. I could have gone to college and got a commission, but I wanted
to be out here, among the stars. Seeing new places. I could have gone
without seeing this place."

"I can imagine." She smiled. "How about now, any regrets you didn't try
for officer? From what I have seen, you have it in you to be a good one."

"Thank you but at the moment, I'm happy with being a corporal," she smiled.

"If you ever change your mind, I would be more than happy to help you."
Branwen suggested.

"Thank you. I will. I guess we better try to get some rest."

Branwen agreed. "Do you want the top or the bottom bunk?"

"I'll take the top bunk." With that, she pulled herself up to the top bunk
and laid back, staring at the nearby ceiling.

Sleep soon claimed Samantha, and seemingly not long after, she jumped awake
by the door sliding open and four armed guards standing outside. "Place
these masks on!" the hydran guard ordered, tossing two breather masks onto
the floor.

Samantha climbed down and began to cough as the Methane atmosphere began to
fill the cell. She placed the mask on, which covered her nose and mouth and
immediately her wrists salmmed together as the magnetic locks on the
shackles were activated.~

The same happened to Bran. She coughed a little even after the breather was
placed over her mouth. The lieutenant had a sinking feeling in the pit of
her stomach. She still prayed that she was wrong and that the hydrans had
changed had would adhere to intergalactic treaties on how to treat
prisoners.

The two women were led down a maze of corridors until they came to a
shower-like area. The guards stood at their position with rifles trained on
them as another guard pressed a button, releasing the shackle locks.
"Remove your clothes, females!"

Branwen turned to the man. "if you provide female guards and some privacy."
She said soflty. "Then we will cooperate and not give you any trouble, sir."

A female guard came in and the male guard remained where he was. "There,
you have your female guard. Myself and the other male guards will remain!
You will either remove your clothes voluntarily or we will remove them for
you!"

"You can turn around at least. Or do you think one female guard is no match
for two fragile females?" Bran challenged him. If they showed fear now they
would be lost.

"We will not turn around! You will remove your clothes now!" the Hydran
Guard captain screamed at the two females. Corporal Beckett remained quiet,
letting Branwen do the talking.

"So little regard for the females of your own species." She said sadly. "And
I bet you have orders to deliver us unharmed. How are you going to do that
if we resist? Why make this so difficult when all we ask is a little
respect, sir. Something so easily accomplished."

"We value our females. However, you are not Hydran females! You are female
prisoners with no rights whatsoever! Now strip!"

"Do as he says, human female!" the Hydran female ordered.

"No." Branwen suddenly had steel in her voice, she was not going to make
this any easier for them. With a fluent movement she stepped in front of
the corporal.

"Very well. We'll do this the hard way," the guard captain said as he
pressed button to lock the shackles back together.

Branwen's and Samantha's shackles slammed back together, locking again as
two Hydran guards quickly reached out and pushed Branwen and Samantha
against the nearby wall hard. Two more guards came in from behind, and
began to rip off the clothes.

Samantha tried to struggle but it was useless against the much larger and
heavier Hydran guard. She closed her eyes as she felt her uniform be ripped
away from her body.

Branwen did not even struggle, she knew which was no use. She had hoped to
outsmart them to use a technique she had not used the last time.

With their clothes removed. The guards moved away. "Now into the shower
system," the Hydran guard pointed to a suspended walkway with various
stations located on each side.

"Let's do as they say, Samantha." Branwen said and stepped forward. She
tried to hide her nudity as much as possible with her hands.

Samantha nodded, as she stepped on the hover belt that moved each prisoner
from station to station. At the first station cold water sprayed Branwen
from the sides, top, and bottom.

The second stationed sprayed them with soap, some of it getting into their
eyes." With her hands shakled it was difficult to get out. And the
Welshwoman cursed under her breath.

The third station rinsed them off with warm water before moved to the sonic
dryer.

Then suddenly they were done. And the two females stood at the end of the
line shivering. Both of them waiting what would come next.

"Much better," the Guard Captain said as he looked the two nude females
over. "Now move down that corridor."

"How are you holding up?" Branwen asked as they moved down the corridor.

"I am doing fine," Samantha replied. "I wonder where we're headed to."

"I ?." She could not lie. "Samantha, it might not be pretty in there. You
remember your training and remember they will come for us. We have to fight
for time, alright?"

Samantha nodded simply as two large titanium doors slid open to reveal a
large, spacious room filled with machines, tables, and instruments.

Branwen swallowed and walked inside, she had a pretty good idea of what was
coming, and she just wished she could protect the other woman.

"Hospital Visit"

Commander Jaal Jaxom, Strategic Operations
Midshipman Aina Mason, Communications Officer
Doctor Kimberly Burton - Lieutenant, Chief Medical Officer

USS Galaxy

======

Secondary Ward - Sickbay, Deck 12

The doors to the primary ward slid aside as Aina moved into the ward,
over on one of the beds in the secondary surgical ward was Commander
Jaxom and to Aina, he didn't look that good. The spots around his
face almost appeared black on the almost white paleness of his skin,
his eyes were closed and appeared asleep.

Aina heard the last of the orders that the Doctor Burton was giving to
the ward nurse, "Change the Dermaline Gel bandages every two hours.
Scans show the bone marrow was unaffected so our main concern is
scarring from the dioxins in the smoke..." Pausing as she felt
someone approaching she turned to see Aina behind her, "Hello
Midshipman, can I help?" She asked gently, her mind still half
focussed on Commander Jaxom.

"Umm, how is Commander Jaxom?" Aina asked.

Smiling reassuringly Kimberly looked at her patient, "Recovering well,
he should be out of here by tomorrow." She saw a faint but noticeable
look of concern on Aina's face, one she saw on a lot of faces that
came through sickbay, "Don't worry, we'll look after him. He's asleep
right now though, if you'd like you can come back in a few in a few
hours time? He should be awake by then."

Well that had answered Aina's next question, she nodded and was about
to leave when a raspy but familiar voice spoke, "I'm not sleeping."

With a little effort, Jaal slid his body up the bed and rested his
upper body on the biobed's pillow. The silvered sheet crinkled over
his lower body as he looked at Aina, "Is this about Baker?" he asked
cryptically.

Aina nodded, "But I can come back later, when...uh..."

"When I don't feel like death warmed up?" Jaal croaked.

"A good idea, Commander." Kimberly agreed as she watched the two of
them, "Let's give the hyronalin a few more hours to help neutralise
the radiation effects."

Jaal shook his head slowly, "I'll be fine, after Mason here is gone,
I'll rest - I promise. She wouldn't be here unless it was something
'very' important... but I could do with something to drink, my mouth
is dry."

Kimberly eyed Jaal for a couple of seconds with a raised eyebrow.
She'd heard that promise before and had it broken more than once, but
she turned and nodded to the nurse, who headed off. Looking at Jaal
and then at Aina she nodded, "Okay. But, no more than fifteen minutes
please. You need rest Commander, clear." She said firmly. Stepping
to another patient she gave the two of them some privacy.

"Whatcha got?" Jaal asked.

As Aina was accessing her padd to access private recorded
conversations, between Commander Janice Baker on Lambada Vered I and
Admiral Megarex on the Nightview, the nurse passed a glass with a pale
blue and very thin liquid in it. Taking a sip, Jaal could feel it
getting rid of the dryness in his mouth and as it slid down it soothed
the roughness in his throat.

As the nurse headed away, Aina passed the padd over, "This is a
recording of the Admiral talking to Commander Baker. If you
fast-forward it, to time index, one oh seven point oh three five."

Tapping at the padd, the video stopped and a split second later showed
the split screen of both Baker and Megarex, and as he watched, he
heard that Megarex was informing Baker that the Dreyshayans were going
to be arriving in less than a week's time to claim their 'lands.'
Baker was very unhappy about that, but to no avail, there was nothing
that either of them could do.

Jaal stopped the padd with a grim expression on his face. In a slow,
still somewhat raspy voice, he told Aina his conversation with M'Kantu
and Magarex from the day before and the advancing Hydran fleet. "So,"
he ended his narrative, "all that and apparently some fanatic
colonists."

Aina frowned, "But it's all wrong. Making people leave their homes
like that. What are we going to do about the Hydrans? We can't let
them just come in and take away the planets."

Jaal was really in no condition to have an argument about Starfleet
and Federation Council policy. "Aina," he said trying not to sound as
tired as he was, "Sometimes, in our duty, we have to do unpleasant
things. If we leave those colonists there they get captured by the
Hydrans, made prisoners, slaves, or killed. Wouldn't you rather save
their lives then leave them to the enemy?"

Aina had a pained look upon her face as she realised what Jaal was
actually saying, with the Hydrans actually moving their fleet to that
location, it was better to evacuate. But the Council deliberately
made a decision to cause it, they chose a situation that caused this
event, they chose a series of actions that caused the people to be
pushed out of their homes. She stared into space for a few seconds,
considering it all when another thought came to mind "And what happens
when this gets out? To the press and the like - the Council allowed
this?"

Jaal shrugged, "I don't know... some people will bitch, some won't
care, some might have something to say... I think most will be glad it
didn't happen to them."

Aina just nodded, her nose ridges were deeper in thought, but she
turned to look at Jaal, "Doctor Burton said I shouldn't stay too long
and you look like..." she didn't want to finish off the sentence.

"I know how I look," Jaal finished for her sounding very tired. He
could tell by the look on her face she was thinking hard. One could
see the wheels spin in her head had it been transparent.

"I have to get back to the main computer control section, we've got a
lot of work on the port core. Get well, Commander."

"Aina," he called after her before she got too far away, "I wish I had
more answers to give you. I really do... but I don't. Believe it or
not, I went through the Dominion War much like you are going through
this one... it seems no matter how much experience you have at
'this'... it's never enough. Don't give up hope though. As long as we
have hope things will get better."

Aina turned back and with a hand on the control of the centre biobed
looked at Jaal and after a few seconds, she returned "I won't give
up." She gave a smile, but it wasn't convincing, her eyes didn't
reflect the smile. She seemed to stand in indecision for a few
moments. With a grimace turned and headed out, the cogs were still
turning in her head.

He watched her leave silently. Jaal could see she was still confused
and remembered being confused himself back during the Dominion War.
Conflict, he decided, causes people to have to mature before their
time. That was something no one really wanted to do.

"Where Your Mind Wanders When Sitting In Sickbay"

Commander Jaal Jaxom
Strategic Operations

(and Erastus Ampete)

==USS Galaxy, Sickbay==

"We should be able to kick you out tomorrow," Rita, the Betazoid nurse
cheerfully told Commander Jaxom.

"Don't make it sound like such a bad thing eh?" Jaal teased back.

"You 'want' to get out, don't you?" Rita asked while her head tilted a bit.

Jaal eventually nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I do," he conceded. "I'm
sure I have a lot of work to catch up on."

"I know you'll miss me but you'll be back for check-ups," she offered
a playful wink that made Jaal smile.

He watched Rita move off to check on the other patients in sickbay.
His hand absent-mindedly felt for the necklace that used to adorn his
neck. It was a necklace that Erastus had gotten him for his birthday
on their last real vacation together. The jewelry had been irradiated
beyond repair during the colonists failed attempt to blow the Galaxy
to smithereens. The necklace and everything else he had on had been
disposed of.

The ship was in recovery mode. Engineers and operations people were
crawling everywhere putting things back together. It reminded Jaal of
another time when the Miranda needed major repairs. Unlike this time,
the Trill had managed to escape bodily harm.

Right after defeating the Hydrans over Romulus, the Miranda needed
extensive repairs where the Hydran starbeast had whacked the saucer
section with an appendage. Many of the crew took time off, Jaal and
Erastus included.

The Trill's mind wandered back to that time?

+++flashback!+++

== Approximately 14 Month ago, Erastus' Quarters, USS Miranda ==

"Yeah, that's right," Jaal told her, "Pack yourself a bag. We're going."

"Going? What do you mean going? Where?" Era stood in front of her
closet, one shirt halfway off a hanger, a look of pure confusion on
her face.

"It doesn't matter where. Everywhere. There's 'lots' to see," Jaal was
prodding her, almost pushing, to get a suitcase or duffle and fill it
with some clothes, "..and we 'need' some time off the ship."

They ended up going to Earth?

==Italy==

Jaal leaned over to match the angle of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. His
mouth was next to Era's ear. He whispered, "You'd think with all the
modern architectual technology today they could have straightened the
fucker out."

"I dunno," she mused, inclining her head to match the angle, then
doing the same to look at him in his mocking pose. "It's got
wabi-sabi."

Jaal had no concept of what 'wabi-sabi' was. It was a term he'd never
heard before. He just nodded and went along with it.

==China==

Era gazed down at the rows upon rows of Terracotta Warriors. On the
dusty railing that cordoned off the present from antiquity, Era idly
traced the outline for a game board. "Looks like they're ready for a
game of Stratego, doesn't it?"

Jaal was peering though the lens of his holo-cam. "Or a game of chess
with nothing but knights." He grinned mischievously as he swung the
lens around to snap a shot of Era. "Smile!"

Of course, the automatic reaction of any person on hearing that
command was to turn around with a blank expression of "huh?" imprinted
on their features. Era could not stop the pan-galactic impulsion to do
as billions before her had done. Half way through marshaling her
troops on the sketched board, she swiveled on her heel to look at Jaal
with a slack-jawed query on her lips. It was the kind of "smile" a
rambunctious young kid with a stuffed tiger would be proud of.

==Grand Canyon==

Jaal was leaning over the railing debating whether to not to spit and
see how long it took for the wad to hit the bottom. He decided against
for the time being. "That's ... deep."

"Uhmm-hmm," Era agreed, not really listening as she gestured
frantically at a fellow tourist. She'd gotten her hands on the holocam
and was intent on getting him back for his candid shot in China. With
the confused looking Bajoran aiming the device and fiddling with the
lighting features, Era stepped up behind Jaal and posed, hands spread
just inches from his back, as though prepared to push him in.

==Transylvania==

Era picked up a set of false fangs from the Count Dracula Gift Shoppe
and Emporium and slipped them in her mouth. Turning around to face
Jaal, she lifted her arms to spread the cape she'd tossed over her
shoulders and bared her new fangs. "Hah duh Ah looch?" she attempted
to articulate around the overlarge dental accessory.

"Mahvahlus dahling, jahst mahvalus!"

===Niagra Falls===

"October 24th, 1901. Annie Taylor was the first person to conquer the
falls in a barrel. After climbing inside her airtight wooden barrel,
the air pressure was compressed to 30 p.s.i. with a bicycle pump."
Jaal read the plaque in front of the historical barrel on display. "Cool!"

"And she did this...why? For a lark?" Era looked over Jaal's shoulder
at the plaque. "You'd think she'd at least put some kind of padding
inside."

The excited Trill went on to the next one. "July 25, 1911! The
infamous Bobby Leach," and here Jaal lapsed into his best Robin Leach
impression, "plunged over the Falls in a steel barrel. Bobby broke
both kneecaps and his jaw during his daring event. Years later while
touring in New Zealand, Bobby slipped on an orange peel and died from
complications due to gangrene!" He looked to Era, "Can you believe
that?!"

Then he looked at Era mischievously. "Hey, want to give it a try?" he
asked walking to the next display.

"Tempting... ask me when I'm 59," she smirked, giving his shoulder a
push to keep him moving along.

"July 11th 1920. Englishman Charles G. Stephens equipped his wooden
barrel with an anvil for ballast. Charles tied himself to the anvil
for security. After the plunge, Chuck's right arm was the only item...
left... in the barrel..." Jaal was quiet a few moments. Shaking his
head emphatically he uttered, "Ehhh... nevermind."

==London, England==

In his finest imitation of a British accent, Jaal read the tourist
pamphlet. "Among the more prominent features of Great Britain's
capital is 'Big Ben', officially known as the Great Bell of
Westminster. The tower sports a massive clock and hour bell, and is
part of the larger Palace of Westminster, which houses the British
Houses of Parliament that govern the United Kingdom. The name 'Big
Ben' originates from Sir Benjamin Hall?the Commissioner of Works at
the time of the bell's casting in 1856. Visitors should note that Big
Ben is not the tower proper, it is only the name of the bell. The
tower is known simply as "the Clock Tower."

He looked at Erastus with a quirked eyebrow. "Isn't a rose by any
other name still a rose?"

"Only when you're still talking about the same flower," she chuckled.
"Tower. Bell. Architecturally, they're very different. And to think
they'd thought about giving you your own ship!"

Jaal looked a bit disgruntled.

== Alexandria, Egypt ==

Erastus stood with her head bent back a bit to gaze up at the vast
structure before her. An audio file was playing from a hand-held
self-guided touring device. "The Royal Library of Alexandria was once
the largest library in the world - until it burned to the ground.
Scholars concur that it was founded at the beginning of the 3rd
century bce. What you see before you is a recreation of the Temple of
the Muses. To your left, you will notice a charred foundation. There
stood the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, erected in the 21st century, until
it too burned to the ground. There have been no further attempts to
recreate the library itself."

Era turned off the audio device and rubbed the crick in her neck. "A
haunted library? Or a serial arsonist who refuses to pay his overdue
book fines?"

Jaal nodded in agreement. "Arsonist."

==Dublin, Ireland==

"The Brazen Head is the oldest pub in Dublin, and a must for every
pub-lover. The only pub in Dublin with a courtyard, and, in fact, the
only pub in central Dublin where you can drink outside. The warm fires
and welcoming staff make this an excellent place to visit on a chilly
winter's eve, or any eve for that matter," Jaal read from the tourist
guide.

He smiled and looked to Erastus. "We 'have' to check this one out."

Era grinned and slipped her arm through his. "Good thing neither of us
is piloting today, hmm?"

== St. Paul, MN ==

"The 240-foot-long ice palace, with the tallest turret nearly eight
stories high, includes roughly 27,000 blocks of ice -- 500 pounds each
-- that came from Lake Phalen in east St. Paul. The palace can be
entered via the central gate and three side accesses. Stay at night to
witness the show as the palace becomes aglow with a full light
display. Enjoy the winter weather by taking a spin on the ice
rink/moat."

Era stopped reading the brochure and gave Jaal a mischevious smile.
"Ever been ice skating around a castle?"

Jaal returned the grin. "You know I'll try anything at least once."

==Kamakura, Japan==

Jaal was studying the guide in his hands. He spoke quietly with
reverence that was previously unseen. "Zuisenji was founded by Zen
priest Muso Kokushi, one of Japan's most famous garden designers. The
temple is known for its pure Zen rock garden which was designed by
Muso himself, but also for the many flowers and blooming trees found
in the other parts of the temple grounds."

"It's incredible," she murmured. "The arboretum really can't compete with this."

He looked up and surveyed the scene.

"It's certainly quiet enough."

"One can begin to understand how it would lead to a spiritual
experience." Her hand found his and gave it a squeeze.

== Waikiki, Hawaii ==

A warm breeze crept up the beach from the ocean, following the surf,
gently whipping Era's hair back as she stretched out on the extra
large blanket. To her right, an open picnic basket sat with the
remains of their lunch. To her left, Jaal lay next to her. Retrieving
the sunscreen from the basket, Era shook some into her hand and warmed
the lotion between her palms. Her hands found his shoulders and
smoothly began applying it, smiling down at him.

"So let me get this straight," Jaal was much less tense than when the
vacation started nearly a week ago. Just getting off the ship seemed
to help immensely. "The 'bell' in the tower is named Big Ben. The
clock and the tower are what? Irrevelant?" Jaal shook his head, "It
just doesn't seem right to me."

"Something to do with how the bell was forged?" Era hazarded,
prompting him to roll over so she could get his back. "How do you
expect me to remember that long ago?" she chuckled.

"By the way," Jaal continued to melt under Era's ministrations, "I've
haven't felt this good... 'and' relaxed in months...thanks."

Era finished up his back and leaned down to give him a kiss on the
cheek. "It's been a lot of fun. Though you could have given me more
warning about it. I've projects just 'sitting' in the lab thanks to
you." She tickled his side to show him just how truly angry she
wasn't.

Jaal laughed out loud rolling over and giving Era some tickling too.
"Projects shmojects! They can wait! The Miranda isn't going
anywhere... not without us anyway."

Despite the warmth of the day, the words made her feel cold inside.
She laughed though, and shimmied away from the tickling fingers.
"Right."

The tickle fight ended with Jaal and Era laying on their sides facing
each other. He held his head up with one hand and looked at Erastus.
"I haven't had this much in a long time. Ya know that? This is one of
the best vacations I've ever had."

Leaning in, Era placed a kiss at the corner of Jaal's mouth. "That's a
mutual feeling. I never knew Earth had so much to it. Can't wait to
reproduce those pictures and show 'em off."

"Didja get lots of good shots?" Jaal asked.

"A few," she chuckled. "Just wait till the bridge's main viewer pops
up with that one from on your ass on the ice rink."

Jaal's face reddened a bit at that particular memory. He made a mental
note to 'adjust' Era's file sharing permissions on the ship's ODN
network. Next, he surveyed the beach they were on shading his eyes
from the sun. "I like this place. I think we ought to stay here a few
days."

"I think I could be persuaded to that effect. I think I've had enough
of the tourist part of this vacation. Some simple relaxation,
unwinding, would be perfect."

"Good..." The Trills mind was far, far away from any troubles now. The
Triad, Romulus, resurrections, ship repairs, bridge officer exams, his
sister... everything that caused any kind of stress was washed away by
the waves hitting the beach in their slow and steady rhythm.

Now there was only one question burning in Jaal's mind. "...by the
way... what's wabi-sabi?"

=+=Back to Present Time?=+=

Jaal shook his head smiling. The memory of that particular vacation
was one of the best ones. As his hand absently felt for the necklace
again, he was bitterly reminded that he hadn't spoken to the object of
his affections in over ten weeks now.

No, she hadn't spoken to him.

With a sad sigh he conceded that the relationship might just be over.
It was difficult to sever the ties all at once. 'Baby steps,'
Lieutenant Mark had told him, 'Get used to the idea first then let
more go bit by bit. It'll be easier.'

Jaal wasn't totally convinced but took the counselors advice anyway.
He wasn't sure it was working but he was sure that each time he let a
piece go, it seemed easier. The loss of the necklace was tough.
Perhaps, just perhaps, it was just the push he needed.

At that point Jaal made up his mind to ask someone out within a month
even if was just for a meal or drinks? and no, the 'set-up' dates that
someone painstakingly took the time to set up with him and Arel didn't
count. After all, they always ended up talking about business or
challenging each other to some ridiculous.

On the other hand, who could think about romance with a war going on?

"We who are about to die!!!"

Featuring:
Arel Smith
Valentina Kyznetsova

The Holodeck was was always somewhere Valentina enjoyed spending off
time. Tonight however, she would be doing something quite different.
It had come to Valentina's attention that one of the new members of
the Galaxy's crew enjoyed fighting - she had been raised in the
Klingon traditions and mannerisms after all. So, Valentina had sent
her an invitation for a sparring session after their duty shifts. The
purpose behind this was both the gauge this new officer, as well as
find out what she knew about one Nathan Everett.

Stepping into the running deck, Val nodded. The Roman Coliseum had
been recreated for tonight's battle. The field was empty save for
herself and her weapon of choice for tonight's battle - a katana
forged using modern materials and technology, using ancient, time
proven techniques. Val had set the holodeck safety settings to a
specific mode, one very few people knew about. The safety protocols
would disregard any non-biological objects on the field. A bullet
fired at the cyborg wouldn't touch her flesh, the computer registering
it as a lethal strike. Her cybernetics, on the other hand, the
computer would treat as if a part of the program. She wanted to have
fun with this match. It wouldn't do to try and block a strike with
her arm only to have the computer take it as a debilitating blow.

Which it certainly wasn't. All that remained was for one Commander
Arel Smith to show up.

"This is different," Arel said as she entered. She looked around the
empty seats, could imagine them filled with spectators watching the
bloody sport. She would have to show this program to her grandfather.
"I like it."

Valentina smiled. "I figured you might, judging from what I've heard
about you."

She had lost most of her weapons in the destruction of the Carthage
but thankfully there were plenty of people onboard the Galaxy who had
a collection. Arel held up her borrowed bat'leth. "Let's do this."

Val held the katana in her right hand, her posture relaxed. She would
need to rely on her speed and agility to work this battle, the sword
didn't have the raw stopping ability required to counter a bat'leth. A
reversed grip would be best, she figured. While not the best for the
offensive work it was quite effective for all of the countering she'd need.

Arel attacked and was not surprised at the ease in which Valentina
blocked her. After their initial exchange Val started circling to one
side.

"Not bad," the cyborg said, giving a critiqe of Arel's form.

"I know," Arel replied as there wasn't a big emphasis on humility in
the Klingon culture.

With her underhand grip Valentina had to make use of her whole body as
a total weapon as opposed to simply fighting with the blade. Much
like her borg combat protocols. This would be quite an interesting
match: klingon brutality versus Valentina's Dance of Death. The blade
in her hand was more for blocking in it's current orientation, and
block it did, deflecting Arel's expert strikes when Valentina couldn't
move out the way.

They fought for awhile and Arel had to admit that she was impressed by
the other woman's skill. "So why me?"

Valentina ducked out of the way of a strike that might possibly have
lopped off her head, swinging a foot around to trip Arel, sending her
to the dirt. "Everett," she said, backing up from the fallen warrior.
"I need to know more about him."

Arel frowned as she stood up. "What about him?"

"Why's he afraid of commitment?" Val inquired, deftly blocking the
next few attacks. Her last parry was followed by a quick strike, her
sword fist catching Arel straight in the nose. Her hand was quite a
bit harder than would be expected.

Arel swore as she felt her nose break and then lashed out with her
foot out of instinct. She swung her sword in sweeping arc.

Val eased herself out of the way of the foot easily but the blade was
a different matter. Instincts and calculated movements swiftly came
in to play and her hand whipped out. The distinct sound of metal on
metal rang through the coliseum. When the dust settled Val and Arel
stood still, the outer blade arc of the bat'leth gripped firmly in
Valentina's left hand while her own katana blade rested on Arel's left
shoulder, the point facing her neck. A rather unpleasent look marked
Val's face.

"Shit," Arel said, not caring about the katana at her neck. She stared
at the bat'leth in the other woman's hand. "Does that hurt?"

Val nodded as she stepped closer, sliding the Katana into the sheath
at her hip. Opening her left hand and grabbing one of the bat'leth's
handles in her right she slowly pulled her hand off. There was no
blood, or leakage of any other fluid. "It won't be easy to close my
hand for the next couple of hours, but I'll be fine after that," she
said off-handedly, as if the damage done didn't matter in the least.

"I apologize," Arel said."I should not have chosen that attack. You
asked about Nathan. To be honest, I don't know that much about him."

"Don't worry about the attack," Val said. Already the synthetic skin
on her palm was sealing itself back up. "That's the fun thing about
cybernetics. Much more difficult to permanently damage. As for
Nathan .... I figured that as you were Chief of Security of the
Miranda same time as he was onboard, you'd know something about him.
Besides what's in his files."

Arel considered, mostly because she didn't want to focus on how
careless her attack had been - cybernetics or not. "He can be a pain
in the ass but I like him. We mostly spar because his training has
been somewhat lacking in that area."

She paused, thinking about Nathan's uncharacteristic flare of temper
the other day but then decided against telling the other woman. She
hadn't felt threatened but it had seemed almost personal and Arel
tried to avoid other people's personal shit as long as it didn't seem
dangerous. "As to commitment issues, I thought most men were like that?"

Val twirled her katana around in her hands, going from one to the
other, almost idly. "In my limited experience and extensive research,
I've found that there's less of those affraid to commit than one would
think."

"I'll admit, I never thought of Cowboy as the commitment type," Arel
said. "But if he was going to, he'd definitely need someone like you
to kick his ass."

Tossing the katana into the stands, Val called out "computer -
Bat'leth." The klingon weapon apeared in her hands and she tested the
weight and ballance. Perfect, as any computer model would be. "He's
that bad? Or are you saying he's better than you are?" Twirling it
about a bit, she swung at Arel, knowing it wouldn't be easy to
completly surprise the former security chief. "I need to know, and
former Miranda crew are my best resource."

Arel blocked it easily. Better than her, indeed. "He's not that bad. I
just think he needs a strong compliment."

"Mind you I didn't get this from Nathan, but what is this that I've
heard about a 'Rena Starburst.' I've-" their blades connected hard
and Val backed off a step. "You aren't the first person I've
approached."

They never talked about it much, besides the occasional teasing Arel
gave her sister about wearing cowboy hats to bed. "They had a thing
for awhile but I'm not sure how strong of a commitment it was."

Arel swung at the woman and managed to trip her. However, she decided
to step back and push her nose back into place because it irritating
her. Arel finished just as Valentina got back up and swung again.

"Know where I can look to get ahold of her?" After a few more
exchanges she brought her curved blade down rather hard, and with an
appropriate twist of her wrists at just the right time Arel's was torn
from her grip. "I'm a rather interested party, and after a rather
.... enlightening .... encounter with the good pilot, I'm inclined
towards pursuing a relationship with him. Unfortunately, he seems to
be of the belief that he's not a person anyone would want to be
involved with, said to ask around." She backed up a bit, allowing
Arel to retrieve her blade.

"My sister? Yeah, she's still onboard the Miranda," Arel picked up the
bat'leth. "Should be easy enough to get a hold of."

Valentina nodded, holding her blade at the ready. "So, now that my
curiosity is satisfied, what say you to some straight up fighting,
less talking?"

Arel grinned. "Great."

"Low Tech Solutions"

Lieutenant Kimberly Burton - CMO
Lieutenant Saul Bental - Chief Intelligence Officer

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ USS Galaxy - Intelligence Office ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Knocking on the door that led into the secure sanctum that the Intelligence department liked to call home, Kimberly waited for a
moment as she was undoubtedly scanned and her ID verified. As the door before her slid silently open she smiled at the NCO behind
the desk, "Hi, I'm Lieutenant Burton, I was wondering if Lieutenant Bental had a moment?" she enquired.

"One moment Ma'am, I'll let him know you're here." Tapping on a terminal for a moment the NCO paused a moment before looking up
again. "He'll be with you in a moment Sir."

Waiting silently she idly scratched the PADD she held, contemplating just what she was reporting here. Eve was certainly no fan of
the proposal, yet she had agreed to the investigation.

Saul Bental did not let her to wait long. He greeted her, then led her to the infamous meeting room by the entrance, the one where
guests are taken. Unknown to Kimberly, the room hosted in the past a colorful selection of Galaxy crewmembers - Arvelion and Shaw,
Iniara, Steven Jonas and even Nara had the 'pleasure' to meet with Saul in room.

The intelligence chief himself was thrifty with words and wore a blank expression

Sitting in the asture meeting room Kimberly placed her PADD on the table and looked at Bental, his bland visage giving her no
indication of what was going on in his mind. ~Part of basic Intel training I guess. ~ She mused.

"How may I be of assistance?" He inquired once both sat down on the opposite sides of the small conference table.

"Actually Mr. Bental, it's I who am here to be of assistance," she explained. "A little while back you asked for an investigation
to be carried out with the assistance of Eve. The purpose of which I believe was to find a way to neutralise her, just in case." ~
In case of what though is the question yet to be answered. ~ She added to herself.

"Lieutenants Eshe and myself have recently spent a little time with Eve. We had a few ideas, but if I may ask first, why do you
feel the need to have a method of neutralising a fellow officer?" She enquired curiously.

"Valentina is a very special case." Saul replied, resting his chin on his knuckles. Burton was renowned for having an overly
developed conscience, he recalled. "She is very good at what she does and she's a good person. Nevertheless, she has a unique
background and abilities which calls for the unusual request I made. Are you familiar with what she did during the Barzan incident
with the Borg or when the Angosian mass murderer was on board?"

"When the Angosian was aboard, yes sir, I was aware of most of the details after the events occurred. Though what happened at
Barzan not entirely, no." Kimberly admitted.

Saul's eyebrows shot upwards. "Did you just 'sir' me?"

Chuckling Kimberly shook her head, "Sorry, force of habit when dealing with senior officers and department heads, most of them
outrank me," she reminded him. "Anyway, I assume the Barzan event was similar to what happened with the Angosian?"

Saul shifted in his chair. "Worse. without going into details, Vala has to face an innate instability which is not her fault. If you
truly found a way to neutralize her in case of a crisis you understand why SFI wants someone like her in its ranks regardless, or
why I have to fight to keep her here. There are many people - both within the fleet or outside it - that would love to take her
apart and see how she ticks. To prevent that, I need to assure the command echelon of SFI that Vala can be controlled, or they would
use the instability as an excuse to get her into a lab."

Saul's voice became business-like. "That is why, Kimberly, you are actually doing her a favour."

~ A favour, making sure she can be turned off at the flip of a switch. ~ Kimberly mused silently. "We spent a while looking at
various possibilities," she admitted aloud though, "and without a better understanding of her cybernetic makeup there's not a great
deal we can do without endangering the ship." At his look she felt prompted to explain a little further, "basically, the amount of
energy required, or the technology we would have to utilise to neutralise or contain her could theoretically compromise the safety
of the ships primary systems, or may kill her if not properly aligned. The various options we considered are outlined here, but
once you've had a read I'm sure you'll understand why a different approach was considered."

"Go on."

"Well. Ironically, I think we started by looking at the problem from the wrong perspective. Because of her advanced make up we
assumed a high tech approach would be needed, turned out, we actually needed to go a little more low tech." Kimberly admitted.

Saul grinned slyly. He liked simple and dirty solutions. "You pull out the plug?"

"In a way," she admitted. "During our exam we realised that trying to stop her violently is pointless, she has a variety of
safeguards and protective measures that will help her stay on her feet. It was a bit of a surprise to find out that she can be
sedated though just like any normal unmodified Terran." Looking a little bemused at the thought Kimberly shrugged. "All that
technology and she can be knocked out by a simple sedative."

"Amazing." Saul murmured.

Sliding her PADD across the table Kimberly indicated it as she spoke. "The idea we came up with was to implant a small remote
activated hypo that contains a few doses of a medium strength sedative. If required you can remotely activate it and in five to ten
seconds she's unconscious for up to eight hours."

"And is there any way she can block the remote activation signal?" Saul inquired. He still found it hard to believe that Vala's
body wasn't immune to a sedative.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. As you're probably aware, there're a lot of devices inside her we have no idea what they do, at least 'I'
have no idea what they do," she added, indicating he probably knew a lot more than she did. "This however is the only option we
could come up with that didn't involve incapacitating half the ship. The other alternative is to put it on a timer that will
automatically inject her unless it receives a signal, that way if she can block the signal that won't help her except to make sure
she goes down."

Saul considered the two options. Putting a timer in Valentina would make her dependant on him. It would make things easier, and
safer. But would he agree to it if things were the other way around? Never. It gave someone else too much control over you. Even
what he asked Doctor Burton to do right now was pushing it.

"We could ask her. But it would be offensive just to ask. Let's keep it using the transmission. Is she aware of the solution?"

"She's aware of the solution insofar as to the need for a sedative, and I did mention the possibility of an implant. "Kimberly
said, not exactly sounding too thrilled. "However, the final decision as to what will be used, I think that's something you should
agree with her, the both of you need to agree on this I'm afraid before I'll agree to implant any device surgically." From her tone
any body language it was plainly evident that this wasn't her preferred way of doing things, even though she understood why.
Putting a leash on someone like this, even with the best of intentions, was a shaky first step that could lead to anything.

"Of course, of course. I'll talk to her. Thank you Doctor."

Standing Kimberly nodded, "Thank you. If you'll let me know what decision you both reach I'll make any necessary arrangements.
Until later."

"Wild West Inquisition"

LT JG Valentina "Eve" Kyznetsova
Commander Jaal Jaxom

Val had managed to get some information from Commander Smith about
Nathan Everett. Still, any good Intelligence operator knew that there
were always more than one or even two sides to a single story. She
was going to talk with everyone who knew and served with "Cowboy"
while on board the Miranda. Colonel Arvellion was recovering from his
wounds, and the few others on her list were engaged in recovery
operations of their own. All except Commander Jaal Jaxom. Formerly
of the Miranda as Operations, Chief Ops, Second Officer, and finally
Executive Officer of that single vessel, he too was on a recovery
mode, though his injuries were less severe than the Colonel's.

With Arel it had been easy to figure out how to lure her into a
position more or less amicable towards conversing about the ... unique
... pilot. For everyone else, save perhaps the counselor, the task
was a bit more daunting. Jaal's personnel files were surprisingly
sparse about the things he enjoyed doing in his off times. Short of
programming and his technological talents and motivations, there
wasn't much more for her to go on. Still ....

Well, no one had ever cracked the code on her cybernetics before. It
was something ... far too complex and adaptive to be held to the same
orderly standards that the Alpha/Beta quadrant powers came to rely on.
Even the Borg were vastly behind. Why not tempt him with a nugget of
that code, see what he could do with it. It was really something
better put to Ms. Mason, but given his track record, it SHOULD
interest him. At least.

She hoped.

Finally, though, she bucked up and got on with it. Val would meet
Commander Jaxom eventually, given his department's reliance upon
information from Intel. So, she sent him a message asking if she
could meet and speak with him after his duty rotation, his choice of
venue. Naturally fascinated by anything that was a puzzle, Jaal jumped
at the opportunity find about an actual cybernetic 'person'. During
his short time on the Enterprise, he'd gotten a few yuck-yucks in the
with android Data. Data, however, was 'all' machine, where this Val a
mix of living tissue and machine. He was eager to compare notes. He
met her outside the Intelligence office at the end of Val's shift.

As she logged out of the Intelligence network, Val made a quick query
of the computer as to Jaxom's where abouts, only mildly surprised to
find him waiting outside the Intel Complex. Gathering up a PADD, she
quickly downloaded a single line of her own "code" onto the device,
completed her log-off, and stepped outside. The PADD almost
immediately went up to his view, "take a look. Anywhere in particular
you'd like to sit and discuss this, Sir? Standing right outside the
Intelligence center isn't exactly the best place.

"Ya don't say?" he asked with an amused expression.

Valentina merely smirked.

He accepted the offered PADD and watched her curiously. "I'm game.
Wherever you're most comfortable," he quipped. "There's still lots of
the ship I haven't seen so anywhere but Ten Forward is good for me." A
cursory glance at the PADD had already started filling his head with
questions he wanted to ask.

"Where I'm most comfortable," Val mused as they began to walk down a
corridor at random. Turning to the right and entering a turbolift,
Val waited for the doors to close before announcing their destination.

"Arboretum."

Jaal looked to her, "This ship has an arboretum? Cool." The Miranda
was a larger ship, the Trill didn't really expect the Galaxy to have
all the amenities the larger Pathfinder class had. Pleasantly
surprised, he picked up the pace as he followed Val through the
corridors of the ship to their destination while noting the
differences between her and Data.

Under any form of scrutiny, Data could be easily identified as 'not
human:' the pale skin and yellow eyes gave it all away. Next, his
very demeanor spoke of something not 'normal,' so to speak. His
motions were stilted, almost jerky at times. Even the way he talked
set him apart from the humans he so desperately desired to emulate,
despite the emotion chip.

Valentina, on the other hand, had none of these characteristics. Even
her synthetics went so far as to perfectly mimic organic limbs, right
down to heat generation and a pulse. The only outward feature that
would distinguish Val from an unaugmented human was her eyes - violet
irises that gave her a uniquely exotic beauty. "As I understand it,
all galaxy class designs pre and post Dominion War have an arboretum.
Why weren't you expecting one?"

"I've never spent an overly long time on a Galaxy class ship," Jaal
answered, "Enterprise and Panther were both Sovereign and the only
other ship I've served extensively on was the Miranda."

The lift stopped then and Valentina led the way out, headed aft. "The
Galaxy class, with it's original design intent carrying a focus
towards accommodating families of the compliment and crew, has just
about everything when it comes to recreational facilities. The Galaxy
3 simply incorporated technological innovations and design advances
that place the original Galaxy class behind the power curve. Very
little in the way of accommodations was altered."

"It does seem more 'cushy' that what I'm used to. The Pathfinder was
posh but it could also take care of business. It seemed to me the
cushiness was an afterthought thought," Jaal replied.

"Perhaps." As they entered the Arboretum moments later Val gestured
to the PADD. "So, what's your thoughts on this, Sir?"

Jaal took a cursory look around at the Galaxy's display of flora and
fauna from around the Federation. "It's not as big as the Miranda's
arboretum but it's just as nice."

Val glared at him for a few seconds. She couldn't hold it, however,
cracking a smile and giggling. "I meant the single 'line' of code on
the PADD in your hand." Instead of taking a seat at one of the
benches scattered around Val continued down the path, which quickly
turned to gravel. "This specific line of code is the primary
controller for all of the synthetic muscle strands in my left calf."

Jaal watched her glare soften and eventually smile. The cyborg 'did'
have a sense of humor. "Of course," he brought the PADD up to inspect
its contents closer. "This is interesting to say the very least. It's
nothing like any computer code I've ever seen before... and I've seen
some pretty weird code." He remembered going aboard Atlantis when the
Miranda discovered the city floating in space. The consoles displayed
in whatever language the current user understood. Any language was
available including many that no one in the landing party had ever
seen before. "This'll take some time to study and even then, I'm not
sure I'll be able to make heads or tails of it... but I sure will
try."

"Good luck," she said. "While you're bashing your brains out trying
to figure out this code, would you mind if I asked you a few things?"
Jaal looked from the PADD to Val, "You can ask," he smirked.

"Tell me about Cowboy," she replied.

Despite spending four years at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco and
highly enjoying Terran motorcycles, Jaal still had a hard time keeping
Earth's history straight. Hell, Trill history was hard enough let
alone another planet entirely. "Weren't they from Earth and always
fighting the Cleveland Indians or some such thing?" It would have been
funny if he wasn't so serious sounding.

"Perhaps I should rephrase." Val had a suspicion that he was pulling
her legs, repeatedly, and on purpose. It certainly WOULD fit his
character profile. "I'm referring to Lieutenant Nathan Everret,
Deputy CAG of Galaxy's Vanguards. He was a pilot on board the Miranda
while you were serving as Executive Officer and came here in the
Tragic Transfer."

Jaal blinked twice. "Ohhhh...." he smiled mischievously as he
recognized the name. "You like the guy or something?"

"Well, let's just say I'm an interested party," Valentina corrected
him. "He says he's not someone I'd want to get involved with, said to
ask around."

Jaal chuckled. He didn't know Everett all that well but he had heard
the ship's scuttle about him from various sources, including Arel
Smith. "To be honest, I don't know him all that well. I've never heard
anything seriously bad about him though. How long have you two been
gettin' it on?"

Val quirked a brow at that last inquiry. "I've only begun to involve
myself with him for a week or so, give or take. Nothing serious,
though he IS skilled at what he does." She blushed a little at that
last comment. "Then again I don't have much scope for comparison ....
chronologically speaking he's my first in over 500 years. Relatively
speaking, it's been 10-15, give or take."

He let out a low whistle. Jaal didn't expect such a detailed answer.
"Well, good luck. I wish I could tell ya more I just don't know
Everett that well," he shrugged sympathetically, "other than he's
pretty fast paced and fancy-free."

Valentina nodded, "I Understand. Thank you for your time, sir."

"Anytime," Jaal smiled politely wondering if Cowboy knew, literally,
what he was getting into.

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