USS Galaxy: The Next Generation Sim Log Stardate: 60804.20 - 60804.26

"The Walk Home"

Jaal Jaxom
Arel Smith

****

USS Galaxy
Sickbay

"This is ridiculous," Arel said in a low growl. She would have snapped
or even started to snarl at the nurse but her throat hurt from all of
the screaming she had done earlier at the staff.

"Doctor Burton said you could leave early *if* you had an escort
home," The nurse repeated.

Arel gave one of her best glares. "The counselor isn't here. I'm not
going to attack anyone now."

Her nurse gave a friendly smile. Obviously, she hadn't been on duty
when Arel and Brian had come in, on the verge of killing each other.
"I think she's more concerned with you making it back to your quarters
safely."

The security officer harrumphed. Figures, she thought. Your legs
buckle one frakking time (after several hours restrained to a bed, she
wanted to remind everyone) and suddenly you were a gorram invalid.

Pthaks.

The nurse had a sympathetic face. Arel wondered if it was the remnants
of Brian's emotions or just her own natural crankiness that made her
want to bash the nurse's face in. "Do you have anyone that can come
and get you?"

Arel frowned. "Yeah, I guess so."

****

Jaal had no idea why Arel had called him to Sickbay. She was rather
vague about it when he pressed for information. 'Well,' he thought,
'whatever it was, if she needed help, he'd offer it.'

The tall Trill walked into Sickbay and peered around the ward with
narrowed eyes. He'd pulled a late bridge shift and wasn't prepared for
the onslaught of light in the Galaxy's medical area. When he finally
noticed Smith, on a bio bed no less, he became curiouser.

Sickbay was one of the last places, anyone who knew Arel, would expect
her to be. He approached her biobed cautiously. "Uhm... what
happened?"

"They won't let me leave without an escort."

Jaal blinked. That was kind of unusual. He folded his arms and asked,
"Does this have something to do with you beating up Mister Elessidil?"

"Something like that," Arel said. "I'll tell you when we get out of
here. Just go sign the release papers."

Jaal smirked and raised one eyebrow in amusement. "Be right back."

Arel eased herself off the biobed when he returned. She tried to make
her legs seem less wobbly but of course he noticed. She shot Jaal a
glare. "Don't say a word. I want out of here."

Knowing Arel, and Klingons in general, and not wanting to make things
any worse, he obliged. He offered his arm to Arel to help keep her
steady. "Whenever you're ready."

Pride wanted her to shun the arm but needing to escape Sickbay was
more important. She took his arm.

==In The Corridor==

Jaal and Arel walked side by side, still arm in arm, down the corridor
to the nearest turbolift. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what 'did'
happen?"

"The counselor has some kind of Betazoid disease that amplifies his
emotions and projects them on others," Arel said after a big yawn.
"Then I guess he picks up on their emotions and reacts to them.
Anyway, he was pissed so I got pissed and I beat the shit out of him."

Jaal blinked twice not sure he followed all of that. "It created some
kind of feedback loop then? Geez, talk about a misunderstanding. Did
you let him live?"

"Yeah but I tried my hardest not to. Apparently. I don't really
remember all of it now," Arel admitted. "One nurse said 'homicidal
rage' was very fitting. I guess it took about six people to restrain
me."

"That's it?" Jaal asked half joking, half serious.

"Might have been more," She admitted.

The turbolift tube was now in sight. They continued to walk at a, more
or less, leisurely pace. Jaal was surprised to find he felt rather
comfortable walking arm-in-arm with someone who had Smith's killer
reputation. "So how's your head now? I mean, you're not feeling
anything strange at the moment, are you?"

"I feel like I've been clubbed in the head with a painstick," She
replied. "And I'm kind of tired." Arel then glared at him. "Not that
I'm complaining."

Jaal smirked. "Of course you're not complaining... you're merely
informing." They approached the lift and the doors opened dutifully.
He thought about offering to tuck in her in and read her a bedtime
story but then wisely decided that would be pushing things too far.
"The nurse on duty made me promise to take you all the way to your quarters."

She grunted. "Fine."

Arel rested her head back against the wall for just a minute and then
suddenly found herself being jostled by the Trill. "What?"

Jaal was keeping her from falling to the deck with artfully arms and
hands. "You're falling asleep, Smith."

"I was not," She huffed.

Now that she seemed she could stand on her own he let go. "You were too."

"Maybe I was," Arel grumbled. "So what?"

"How long have you been pulling double duty?" He asked curiously.

Arel yawned. "What?"

"I mean between security and strategic ops? Have you thought about
getting yourself a little break? In fact when was the last time you
had a day off from both?" Jaal knew how much Arel hated being catered
to in such a way but sometimes, you had to look out for your own
health.

That woke her up some.

"Oh no, you are not pulling that shit on me! I'm only tired from
getting pumped full of tranqs and having Elessidil's emotional garbage
shoved down my throat. I do NOT need a day off."

Jaal folded his arms across his chest and gave her a critical glare,
"Are you sure? If I know one thing about you, and Klingons in general,
is that you won't admit weakness no matter 'what' it is. Regardless of
that, a day off never hurt and I doubt anyone would fault you for it."

"And just what am I supposed to do with a day off?" Arel retorted.

"I'd go out of my mind with boredom."

"Well," Jaal said in a reasoning tone as the lift doors swished open,
"You could always practice riding motorcycles." He offered her his arm
again before stepping out.

"I thought the point was to relax?" She replied, taking his arm again.

"Once you get the hang of it, it's very relaxing," he told her in a
sagely fashion.

Arel snorted.

"Well, this is it," She said as they stopped in front of her door.
"Unless you're going to tuck me in too."

Jaal's head tilted in amusement, "I probably shouldn't tell you
this..." his smile grew wider, "but the thought 'had' crossed my
mind... and of course I wouldn't tell a soul."

"I think I'd deck you if I had more energy," Arel growled.

"I'm sure you'd try," he replied grinning. "But for now, I'll take
that as a 'no'." Jaal deftly slid his arm out from hers and turned to
continue down the corridor.

"Hey, Jaxom," She called after him. "Thanks."

Jaal stopped and spun around. "You're welcome." He spun once again and
went on his way with an odd grin on his face.

"The Improper Use of Chocolate"

Jaal Jaxom

Lt. JG Ophelia Zamora
JAG

LOCATION: Arboretum

---------------
The arboretum stretched out before her as she reclined on the grass.
One of those days was an understatement, and no matter what she
attempted to smell, she could not rid her nostrils of the stench that
had been placed in her office earlier that day. Turning her head to
the side, she noted that she had company.

"Hey..."

"Hey," Jaal replied, "Good to see you again." He smiled and sat beside her.

Her head tilted as a soft smile played on her lips.

"I hear our resident shitter fantasma left you a present too," Jaal
cut to the crap so to speak. "He's gotten quite a few people lately.
I'm rather surprised someone hasn't caught him yet."

"Personally, I don't know what's up with the security department. It
doesn't take a rocket scientist. Take a sample.....run a dna
scan...then match it to the records in the crew manifest.
Tada.....person captured."

"Oh no, we can't have any that," Jaal half joked, "That would take too
little time and make too much sense." His joking expression turned to
one of perturbation, "That wanker got my quarters too... along with
just about all of the senior staff. Whenever they find'em he'll need
to be taken into protective custody to keep his victims from killing
him. Some people I tell ya..."

"I've had enough death for a while....lock him up and throw away the key."

Jaal nodded slowly after seeing the seriousness of her comment. "Fair
nuff," he replied simply. He took a moment to look around the
arboretum. It was a place on the ship he rarely visited preferring a
beach/shoreline scene that could be easily reproduced on the holodeck.
On the other hand, 'real' plants and dirt had their good points too.

Changing the subject, Jaal mentioned, "Ya know, I really should come
here more often."

"It's my favorite place to be. Serenity is difficult to come by
except here...."

She glanced over at him, holding his stare for a long while. Staying silent,
Ophelia lowered her head and blushed slightly.

Jaal smirked while watching her. Several thoughts passed through his
mind but being a bit unsure of himself and his feelings for Ophelia
(except for the fact he was sure he liked her as a person), he simply
asked, "Okay, I give up, why are you blushing? Did I forget to zip up
my uniform or something?"

"What? No..." She paused, slightly chuckling. "I blush every now
and then when thoughts of a rather.....naughty nature pop into my
head."

"Naughty thoughts?" Jaal asked curiously. His own face reddened a
tinge but wasn't nearly as noticeable as Ophelia's. "How could just us
sitting here make you think that way? Dare I ask?" One of his eyebrows
rose challengingly.

"Not unless you want an answer." Zamora caught his raised eyebrow and smiled.

Now about a thousand different thoughts flitted through Jaal's head
and none of them were the 'nice' variety unless you counted a nice,
leisurely, 'private' breakfast the following morning. He shifted his
weight and leaned a little closer, but not too much closer, to Ophelia
and barely above a whisper replied, "I'd like to hear that answer."

Zamora's cheeks grew crimson yet again. "I don't think that I can
tell you.....I'd have to show you...." She whispered back.

Jaal smiled a little wider. He didn't think she liked him in that
manner but the redness on her face spoke volumes. His brain took a
quick inventory of the women he'd been socializing with of late. Right
now, at this moment, was the closest he'd been to any kind of physical
encounter in many weeks. What the hell, he thought, you only live
once.

"But 'will' you show me?" he whispered back.

"Yeah..." She stood, brushed off her uniform and offered her hand to
help him to his feet. Her hand wound around his as she led him to her
quarters. "Take a seat....I'll be right back....." And with that,
she left him, wondering around the corner.

Jaal sat wondering what would happen next, if anything. Shouldn't he
have known better? Ophelia was an intelligent, bright, and certainly
not easy. Was that why he felt attracted to her? Because it seemed
there would never be a dull moment? Because she was someone he could
match wits with? Now he felt like a fool thinking anything physical
would happen between them that quick.

He sat patiently waiting to see what would happen while keeping other
urges under wraps. No matter what happened, he decided, a good time
would be had.

She emerged, a few moments later with two plates and offered one to Jaal.
"There's this little bakery that makes the most....' Glancing over,
she viewed his somewhat deflated expression. 'Let me finish...before you get all depressed...."

Jaal shook his head while chuckling, "Not depressed," he protested
managing to not sound at all disappointed. "Surprised, certainly, but
not depressed."

"It's the most sinful chocolate cake...." Ophelia sat down beside him
before speaking again. "But...you have to taste it the right way...close your eyes....."

"Why?" he offered a questioning glance with a hint of suspicion in his tone.

'Just do it..." She growled playfully. Satisfied that he finally
submitted to closing his eyes, she took her index finger and spread
some of the frosting on her jaw line. "Now....find it....' She
cupped his face, leading it over to hers.

Jaal giggled in amusement. He never got to play in such a way with
food before. Allowing her hands to guide his face he put his tongue
out experimentally to see if he could detect any of the chocolate
cake. "Amah gettn' closa?"

Zamora laughed outright. "Um...no....keep trying..."

Jaal kept his tongue out and moved closer to the sound of her voice
while chuckling, "Habout nou?" He was certain he caught a whiff of
chocolate frosting now.

"No..." She giggled hard. "You look like a Terran anteater."

"Don makit soun lahk a bad ting."

Another attempt lead to more giggling between the both of them.

"Okay.....You poor boy....." Zamora cupped his face, leading it to
her jawline. "There....I'm putting you out of your misery...."

Jaal's nostrils filled with the scent of rose. The perfume she was
wearing coupled with the chocolate dazzled the olfactory nerves. He
chuckled a little more before settling down enough to plant his lips
right into he frosting on her face. He allowed himself a tender lick
and tasted it. "Mmmm... that IS good."

He giggled a little again and keeping his eyes closed, asked, "Is there more?"

"There's practically a whole cake back in the bedroom......." She
stared at him as his face was near hers... then couldn't help herself
when she viewed the smear of chocolate on his cheek. "God help us if
Starfleet ever gives you a gun...your aim is horrid."

Jaal opened his eyes and looked warmly into hers, "Firing phasers is a
LOT different than shooting for chocolate with your tongue and having
your eyes closed to boot!"

"Still...Jaal....it's the concept of the whole thing. Aim is
aim....whether its cake or Hydrans...."

Jaal shook his head, and explained somewhat seriously, "But chocolate
doesn't constitute a life or death situation. If this 'were' believe
me, there wouldn't be a speck cake on your face."

"No...chocolate does constitute a life or death
situation....especially if a woman needs it and she doesn't have it."
She retorted.

"Good point," Jaal replied rubbing his chin, "A whole cake you say?"
he asked with more than a hint of mischievousness in his voice, "in
the bedroom?"

"Almost whole......" Ophelia paused. "Why? Did we suddenly get an appetite?"

"I dunno, how hungry are you?" Jaal asked coyly.

"Geesh Jaal...what else do I have to do here? Dress up like Raynor
and do the hula? You have a hot woman in front of you offering you
the opportunity to unmentionable things to you and you sit there like
Bental waiting on the latest intelligence reports."

A pained expression came over Jaal's features, "Ouch! That hurt!"

"Oh....I'm sure you're okay...."

He shrugged lightly while taking one of her hands in his, "I just had
to be sure, ya know? I've been a victim of mixed signals before." He
let one finger wander up her arm caressing it lightly.

"How's this for confirmation?" Leaning over, Ophelia whispered
something in his ear then leaned back to see his reaction.

Jaal's eyebrows darted up and a very pleasant smile spread across his
face. "Really?" he asked barely hiding his excitement.

"Uh huh......right around the corner..." Zamora giggled she practically
yanked him forward.

Jaal eagerly followed her into the bathroom...

It's a Little Bit Funny...This Feeling Inside

Commander Brian Elessidil, Chief Counselor
Corporal Cianán Tierney, Combat Medic
It was an eventual inevitability. Cianán's appointment with Brian. The Betazoid was his therapist. It's not that the Angosian didn't want to see Brian, in fact his mind wandered to thoughts of him off and on since returning from their mission. His trip to a Hydran vessel recently helped keep his mind somewhat occupied. It wasn't to the point of obsession, but enough for Cianán to filter out other thoughts and focus.

The marine considered himself merely confused and needed to sort out thoughts and emotions - sometimes he couldn't tell the difference. Cianán looked into his mirror the ever constant ghosts of his past looked back at him but once again they were muted as Cianán thought about Brian.

"He's an officer. Not just any officer, a Commander. On the senior staff. A counselor, an instrument of peace. A Betazoid," Cianán thought to himself. "I'm a marine. A soldier. An Angosian soldier, an instrument of war." He shook his head and ran his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes.

Things became clearer when Cianán was told of Brian's diagnosis. It made sense. The demented behavior, the irrational thoughts and ideations. Cianán seemed immune to the brunt of Brian's inadvertent psychic projections and managed to bring him back to the ship without causing too much damage. It didn't help Cianán's guilt all that much. Unfortunately Cianán learned that his guilt only helped pile on Brian's already guilty conscience. It was a vicious cycle.

Taking a final sigh he tried to smile, if not in vain. He would approach it as though he would any other assignment. Visit the Counselor, work through some issues, get over it. Cianán nodded to himself in the mirror, tilted his head to the side and relieved some stress in his neck. He straightened his uniform and made his way to the Counseling Offices.

"Cianán, how are you feeling?" Brian asked upon admitting the Angosian to his office. He hadn't had an opportunity to speak with him since Brian himself got out of sickbay. "Come, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the couch and cluster of comfortable chairs at the other side of the office. "Can I get you anything?"

"Fine, Counselor." Cianán said flatly. He guessed he was fine. It was probably the best adjective, not the most eloquent but it worked. "No, thank you." The marine sat in one of the empty chairs his back was rigid. "I don't think I ever apologized for what I did on the planet." Cianán started the conversation.

"I don't think I ever asked you to," Brian replied, taking a seat across from him, noting the unusually stiff affect. "Has it been bothering you?"

Cianán nodded. "A little." It had been affecting him. "I don't think I handled myself as a marine should." The Angosian was referring to a whole list of indiscretions - not following orders, assaulting a senior officer, hostility towards a senior officer, behaviors unbecoming of a marine, inadvertently spilling his guts about his feelings, the list went on.

"Hm. Well, let's see, you performed your duties as required for the task at hand, you put yourself in harm's way to ensure those duties were carried out, and you independently resolved a crisis situation. Those all pretty much sound like things marines do. What did you think you did otherwise?"

"Well usually there's more death involved." Cianán said with a faked smile, trying to add levity and deflecting the question.

"Let's be glad there wasn't this time," Brian replied with a grin. "But somehow I don't think that's what disappointed you."

Cianán's fake smile disappeared. "It's confusing, complicated, I"m not sure."

"Why don't you try talking about it a little? Maybe we can figure it out together."

It was time to put it on the line. "I've been to seventeen psychologists, nine psychiatrists and countless other mental health specialists since my planet joined the Federation. I've seen Humans, Vulcans, Bajorans, Trill, and Betazoids. None of them have been as effective as you." Cianán paused for a moment. "I find myself thinking about you which helps clear my mind. Why?"

~Because I'm awesome~ briefly flicked through Brian's mind, but he realized this probably wasn't the right time for humor. He recalled what Cianán had said back on the Gamma Vered colony. "Cianán, let's first start by saying that everyone responds differently in counseling situations; a particularly counselor might be more effective with one person than with another, that's normal. You've been making progress with your emotional control but it's still a relatively new experience and all those emotions can be unsettling. Since this is where you've been working with that, it makes sense that there might be some association."

It sounded plausible, but so many ineffective counselors? He did seem to be progressing, but again it seemed to be solely attributed to Brian. Cianán shifted slightly in his chair. "So what should I do? I feel like I'm going crazy again. Instead of hearing hundreds of voices, all I'm hearing is yours."

Brian thought for a moment. "You say you're hearing my voice...is it saying anything in particular?"

"The same thing I hear all the time, just in your voice," Cianán said. "And it is a little disturbing to have your voice explaining that you're a 37 year old woman that is raising three children."

Cianán continued. "Sometimes I hear conversations we've had in the past. You reassuring me, telling me to get a hobby. I've relived the recent mission many times. And then sometimes you, or your voice, doesn't make sense."

"How so?"

Cianán thought for a moment. "It's like I don't want your voice to end so I start inventing conversations."

"Cianán," Brian began carefully, "maybe it's time we talked about your feelings toward me in general. We haven't really had a chance to address that since Gamma Vered. Do you know what I mean?"
Cianán felt a bit like an admonished child. It wasn't a good batch of feelings - embarrassment, disgust, anger. "What I said on the planet. It was in the heat of an argument, a tense situation." It was a bit of the truth and a bit of a lie.

"We often reveal the most significant truths in those moments, but that aside, what you've been telling me so far does seem to indicate that you've been thinking about me both consciously and subconciously. I'm not sure you're entirely comfortable with that, so I think it's important to discuss."
"Counselors always want to discuss. There must be some kind of pill to give out." Cianán felt the conversation was getting a bit too tense. Brian had hit the issue on the head. Cianán couldn't exactly comprehend what he felt for Brian, it was complicated.

"You could just think and I could read your thoughts, but somehow I don't think that would make you feel more comfortable," Brian light-heartedly offered. "This is new territory for you, Cianán. Feelings aren't often easy to discuss even for people who have a life's history with them, so don't expect it to be any easier for you. That doesn't mean it won't be helpful for you to try."

Cianán nodded once silently. "I'm not sure what I feel." The Angosian admitted. "I can't explain it very well. I once asked a counselor what it felt like to be happy, sad, scared...at least that way when I felt them I'd know. He said it was like trying to explain the color blue to a blind person. There aren't words. That's how I can explain it. I've never felt what I'm feeling now."

"Do you like the way you feel right now, or do you find it troubling? Is it something you want to try to explore and understand better or do you want to make it go away?"

It was an eerie feeling - probably best described as cognitive dissonance - as though all the voices from his past came together in one might chorus to scream GO AWAY!
"Explore."

Had that come from his lips? Cianán blinked trying to recall if it was his voice.

Thus the dilemma came to a head for the counselor. He understood Cianán's desire to understand these new emotions and whole-heartedly supported him in that. But the object of his affection -- if that was indeed what he was feeling -- was Brian himself, and that posed a significant problem.

"Fet's Interrogation"

Ensign Mique'lan Dar'ce
Tactical Officer

Gi'Mev Fet


"Computer, begin recording.

"Begin report on prisoner Gi-Mev Fet, junior intelligence officer attached to Hydran Destroyer Brkk'gar. Mr. Fet proved himself useful during an early interrogation, but feeling concern for his safety, I had security move him to a more secure location. Today I visited with him again, where he expounded on his earlier explanation of the Ulahzi cult.

"Mr. Fet explained the following facts to me, to make the rest more comprehensible. There are apparently many sects and cults on the Hydran world, though they all contain some degree of reverence for what we call the 'Starbeast.' They also share common household gods and sometimes ancestor worship. Many Hydrans actually worship the Starbeast, though the majority of them merely hold the beasts on a noble pedestal.

"One group, the Ulahzi, or Beast Hunters, hunts the Starbeast, believing that they are gods, and that one who can kill a god will in turn become a god."

Miqeu'lan paused, trying to figure out how best to iterate the next part. This part was important, probably the most important part of the report. Tactical would not need anything but this data, since Fet spent most of his time talking about disputes between cults.

"Periodically, it seems, these creatures have a migration, and this migration is near. Because the migration is so near, there has been a swelling in the ranks of the Ulahzi, particularly among starship commanders, who have begun to take their ships on hunting expeditions. Fet cannot tell us where the migration will be to, but says that the Ulahzi call it the Odyssey.

"There is another group, one that is larger, and is older than the Ulahzi cult, called the Keepership, roughly translated. They actually coral the Starbeasts and keep them in what could be called zoos, for lack of a better translation.

"Fet himself is a member of a cult known as the Order of the Sacred Beast. They are the sworn enemies of both the Keepership and the Ulahzi, and believe they are devoted to the freedom and well-being of the starbeasts. Their worship of the creatures, in fact, preclude him from even saying the Hydran word, opting instead to use the standard translation, though it is obviously difficult for him to form the sounds. He will not even say 'Starbeast', instead calling them 'Star Gods.' In the views of the Order, no Hydran is worthy of even seeing a Star God, let alone touching or killing one."

Pausing again, Mique'lan took a sip of his pomegranate juice, a beverage introduced to him just last week by an engineering ensign. She was trying to get him interested in Terran drinks and dishes for some reason, though most of what he had tried so far of Terran cuisine had fairly appalled him.

"Fet explained that he used the influence of his family to gain a commission on board ne of the hunter ships. His mission was to sabotage the ship, though his plans seem rather poorly planned, and remained unexecuted by the time his ship was destroyed. His crude mental shielding prevented me from scanning his surface thoughts, but upon a more in-depth probe, I realized that this young man was a mere youth, and his plans were far more ambitious than his abilities. He thinks more of career and mating than actually duty, and he is rather childish still, though he is considered an adult."

Ensign Dar'ce could barely stifle a chuckle as he reported the next part. It had been all he could do to keep from laughing when Fet had mentioned it.

"The prisoner asked me to join him on his quest to end the 'senseless massacre of innocent gods.' He either does not understand the position he is in, in a POW situation, or is even more high-minded than I originally thought him to be. I explained to him that it was my responsibility to interrogate prisoners, not stop hunting parties from killing their prey.
"Despite that last part, he seemed to enjoy the session, and in fact asked if I would come back tomorrow to talk again. I believe that I shall, if for no other reason than to obtain more information on the Order of the Sacred Beast."

Mique'lan stopped the recording, and saved the file to the tactical and security databases. He sent a copy to Commander Corgan's office, one to Lieutenant Daniels, and one to Commander Tarin. After a second thought, he also sent a copy to the Science Department, attention Sociology. They might find some of the information useful. He called the brig, and told them to expect him at 0700, so he could have a session before he went on shift.

After turning out the lights, Mique'lan went through his nightly routine of mental shielding that kept the Galaxy out of his dreams.

"Silver Platter"

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence


* * * Saul's quarters * * *

Saul looked up from the game board, eyeing Nyoko wildly.

"You know you can't win with these tricks."

The petite Japanese licked her lips, her hands not leaving the controls. On the table, the holographic projections of her miniscule samuraies stormed down the forested hill at Saul's stronghold. His archers held their longbows over their heads, waiting for the command of their relatively gigantic master. 'Total War' was a classic, but it was the real war that occupied Saul's mind right now.
"Who found that out? Firethrowers two to six - fire!"

"Firethrowers? Oro??"

Massive fireballs the size of tiny peas were hurled from the tree cover, where Saul's troops were hiding. Nyoko didn't expect them to be located outside the castle, where they would be vulnerable. Now, her troops were going to scatter in fear, and he was going to unleash his cavalry on them while they can't mount a reasonable defense.

That is, after he finds out what's going on.

"Computer, pause game."

Too bad - Nyoko's going to get some time to regroup herself. But on the virtual game field he could afford losses, or missed reports.

Nyoko stared at the pea fireballs. "You mean you didn't get Miquelan's report?"

"No. I don't know even who this guy is."

She grinned. "Horny. He's from Tactical. A good guy. we were on an away mission together."

"I should have insisted that all interrogations will be held by intelligence personnel." Saul stated, angrily. The interrogation team SFI promised him were still preoccupied elsewhere, and in the mean time he didn't have enough people in his department to handle all the POW's so he let security and tactical deal with the more junior captives; A grave mistake, it appeared.

"Why are you so pissed, anyway? Thought you hated paperwork."

She was awarded by a sly, careless grin. Saul's automatic response when he realizes he's letting others see him irritated, scared or angry. Miramon got that a lot.

"Do you know what my Thesis was about?"

"Master's? Something to do with the Hydrans, no?"

"Yes. So I am up-to-date with Starfleet's knowledge on them." The fact was, no one on the ship knew the Hydrans better than Saul. "People are trying to understand the structure of the cults and their conflicts for decades. Moreso since Havras. It's a big known secret in Hydran society. Like... like everyone on Earth know people masturbate, but an external observer would take years to find out."

"Yuck!!!" Nyoko protested, "Couldn't you find a better example?"

"What I am SAYING, Nyoko, is that this is a golden mine. Some people in SFI would sell their mother to find out about internal conflicts in Hydran society. It could enable us to turn the war around."

Nyoko was obviously still disgusted with Saul's 'colorful' example. "Bet you would sell your mother, too."

Saul's face fell. "She is dead." he said flatly.

Nyoko turned pale. "Really?"

"No. I think."

"Bastard!" She waved at thing. "You have an evil flatmate, Thing, evil!"

"MMMMMMMmiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" The Barzan alien agreed, hovering over Nyoko's shoulder.

Saul bolted up. "Computer, prepare message to Commanders Tarin and Corgan, and to Lieutenant Daniels. People, I want all POW interrogation to be under the supervision of an intelligence representative from now on. Also, Lieutenant Daniels, I want the entire transcript of all of Fet's interrogations to be sent to me. I 'understand' that this POW gave information about potential conflicts between Hydran cults. This is vital, Strategic intelligence, and as such it could be disinformation. I want to be in the loop with anything that happens with this Fet - everything. Good day. Saul Bental out."

"I'm almost sorry I told you." Nyoko said as he finished.

"Don't be, and I appreciate it - I might even let you win."

"No you won't." Nyoko giggled. "Computer, continue game. Cavalry one to seven - charge forward!"

* * *

After the game ended (in marginal victory, Saul's of course) and Nyoko left, Saul turned to his computer console. The report was already there, waiting, along with a message.

He was eager to get to it, but first he entered the boards. He did it daily, some times twice a day, browsing the bulletin board, seeking a message like an echo from the past. Now that Sotha's katra left his body, it was more due to a habit than an actual need. An addiction, perhaps.

He was almost ready to get back to Dar'ce's when he saw the message.

It was for him. 'Beloved'.

He glanced at the Chronometer. It was already a minute past the regular hour. Obviously the message was posted earlier. He stood, grabbed his jacket from the Sofa and headed for the door.

The Hydrans, the war, and the report would have to wait.

"Helpless"

Marine Captain Man'darr Maivia
Qolthra (NPC written by Mieke)

Qolthra looked around her small quarters. It was big enough to hold a slave. She was actually looking forward to having him here. Finally he was well behaved and she could adjust his intelligence. It would be fun to have a pet around again. The guards should be bringing him over any moment now and she smiled in anticipation.

Man'darr, dressed in a standard jumpsuit, stood at the door to Qolthra's room with two guards escorting him. The command to enter was soon given and Man'darr was shoved inside by the guards.

"Welcome home dear little pet." She smiled as he stumbled into the room. "Finally we are alone."

Man'darr still hated being called pet and the first chance he could, he would kill this hydran personally with his bare hands. "What do you want?"

She dialled up the obedience button on his collar, and slightly brought his intelligence back. "Behave, pet. You don't want me to have to punish you more, now do you?"

"No..ma'am," he replied, fighting the implant.
"Good. I will show you your new home." She said gently motioning him to come closer. Thanks to the implant it was impossible for him to attack her.

Man'darr stepped towards the female hydran without speaking as he kept his eyes on her.
He was coming along nicely. "Come." She showed him the bedroom were her bed was and on the ground was a large cushion with a blanket. "Your own place at my feet, pet." She told him proudly. "Much better then your cell."
"Why am I here?" Man'darr repeated.
"To pleasure me of course, and to keep me company. It gets lonely here. That's why I have finally allowed myself to keep one of my pets." She smiled at him. "Why don't you try out your sleeping place."
Man'darr nodded, wanting to try and throw the female hydran off guard as he laid down on the cushion.
"Excellent." Qolthra beamed proudly. "You are doing so well. Get comfy, little pet while I see to our dinner. "She left him alone for now.
Man'darr watched as the female Hydran went into the other room. He looked around the room for anything he could use against her.
A few minutes later she called from the other room. "you can come in now, pet."
Man'darr stood after checking out his surroundings and entered the main living area where the female hydran was located.
A dinner was laid out on the table, but only for one person. There was another bowl on the floor. Qolthra pointed at it. "Food, pet., come and get it."
It was one thing to sleep on the floor but to eat out of a bowl like some animal was going too far in his book. "I will not eat out of a bowl," he replied sternly.
"You will if you don't want to lose more of that precious intelligence of yours." Her finger was on the buttons.
Man'darr kicked the bowl across room. "No," he replied.
"Too bad." Expertly she flicked two dials. One to cause him exquisite pain, and the other taking down his intelligence several notches.
Man'darr grabbed his head as he fought from screaming out in pain.
She waited until the pain went down. "Clean up the mess, pet." She ordered him.
Man'darr remved his hands from his head slowly and moved to clean up the mess he had made.
"Good pet!" She praised him. "Now because I'm not a mean person, you are going to get new food when you finish cleaning up."
Man'darr remained quiet as he finished cleaning up the mess.
"Wonderful." Qolthra took the bowl and filled it again. Looking into his eyes she handed it to Man'darr on the floor.
"I am not hungry," Man'darr replied.
"Don't spoil it for yourself like a child. Do you want to lose the rest of your intelligence?"
Man'darr knew he would take great pleasure in killing this...female. His turn was coming and he would make sure this hydran paid for it with her life. He kept rehearsing the plan in his mind, so he would not forget it dispite the Hydran taking his intelligence down. He angerly sat down and ate the food with his hands.
"You are a slow learner." She said shaking her head. "Take my advise, co-operate more, or before you know it there will be nothing left of you. I have seen so many like you come and go. And it ended badly for all of them."
'No, you have never dealt with my kind or anyone like me,' Man'darr thought to himself as he ignored the hydran.
"When you are finished you can do the dishes." Qolthra told him as she sat down in a comfortable chair and switched on a view channel. "After that join me here."
Man'darr kept quiet as he finshed and tossed the dishes into a nearby dish washer. After a few minutes, Man'darr joined the hydran female as he kept running his plan through his mind until it would be more of a reaction than an action. "You called for me?"
"Yes, you can sit at my feet and watch with me." She said engrossed in her programme. It was obvious he was to sit on the ground.
Man'darr sat on the floor as he watched the program on the viewer. It was in Hydran so he couldn't understand but it seemed to be something about the war.
Qolthra absently stroked him on the head while she watched and munched on some snacks. The programme seemed to go on forever.
Man'darr was becoming bored with the program and trying to understand it.
Finally she stwitched off the programme. "It's late, pet. Time for bed.' She yawned. "You may use the bathroom before retiring." The interrogator gave him permission.
Man'darr used the restroom and then headed for the cushion that had been set out for him. Now he would simply have to wait.
When he left the bathroom she got ready for bed. Before going to bed she touched the dials on the remote leaving him almost completey paralyzed. Slaves should not wander around on their own during the night. "Sleep well, pet." She whispered.
Man'darr watched the female hydran place the control on the nearby nightstand, next to her bed. He also found it nearly impossible to move. Though he could still move, it was extremely hard for him to do so. Again, he closed his eyes as he went over his plan in his mind. After a few hours and sure that the female Hydran was asleep, he took in a deep breath as he pulled himself across the floor slowly and quietly. His muscles strained with each movement until thirty minutes later, he was at the foot of the nightstand. He again took a deep breath and reached up on the stand until he felt the control pad. His arm fell over the side of the table and landed on his other forearm. He looked at the control box for a moment before pressing the button he remembered seeing the female hydran press. He immediately felt the paralysis disappear and tried to remember which controlled his intelligence.
"Bad pet!" Without effort she took the controls away from him. "Still so rebellious." She touched some of the dials and the paralysis returned together with pain. "you cannot outsmart me. The sooner you learn that, the better for you."
Man'darr tried his best to not cry out in pain.

"The Final Lesson" - Part 5

****

I looked over at Ella and she was looking away.

I frowned and shook my hand free of blood and other bits of what was
left of Flitt's partner and walked over to her, grabbing her firmly by
the chin. "This is what you wanted, Ella."

She looked horrified, tired, miserable. Tears were already streaming
down her face and her mouth was opening but no sound, of course, came
out.

Everything about her screamed at me to stop. This was unfortunate, as
I knew the man had more hits left for me to deliver.

"If you want this, you have to watch," I reminded her sternly.

I'd told her this before I had started and Ella had agreed, probably
thinking that her vengeance would overcome any sympathy she might
feel. I could have told her that there were many people out there that
were like that; she wasn't one of them.

I let go of her chin, not that I think she noticed.

"You can't ask for a man's life without giving something in return,
Ella." I told her more gently.

I couldn't have said why I wanted her to learn this. I didn't love
her, I didn't want her, and I owed her nothing save what I'd been paid
for.

But I did want her to learn about consequences. Maybe so I could later
teach her about making the most of them.

Ella looked at me, if only to avoid looking at him. Those blue eyes
pleaded with me, whether she was aware of it or not.

"You watch or it ends," I told her.

She finally looked at the man bound to the chair and shuddered.
Minutes passed. And just when I thought that she was going to tell me
to stop, Ella Grey nodded her head.

I wiped the bloodstain from her chin and then went back to work.

Later, I brought her back to one of my hideaways for reasons that I've
never fully understood. Perhaps it was the only way that I could think
of to apologize to her for going through with her commission.

Perhaps because I knew that she would have to go home to that big
mansion with no one there to comfort her.

Perhaps because I had momentarily lost my damned mind.

She sat on the bed and stared out of the window, probably thinking
about right and wrong, good and bad, and monsters in the dark.
Probably wondering if she had just become one of them. I could have
reminded her of what the man had done to her or what he'd done to
countless others but it wouldn't have done any good. I left her to
shower the remainder of the guy off of me. When I came back into the
room, pants on for her sake, she was crying again.

I watched for a moment, perplexed. I never had had to deal with my
clients after my work and certainly not with their tears. This, I
realized, was the problem with bringing your work home.

I ended up wrenching her up from the bed to press her close into an awkward hug.

She was the first one to kiss me and I let her, let myself taste her
for some time, before finally pulling back.

"It won't make it go away," I tell her. "That's not you."

Her reply was a question, disguised as a hiccup of laughter.

"You don't forgive, Ella. Not even yourself." I didn't add that people
like that either went crazy with guilt or eventually pushed past it
and turned into people like me.

She started to sob and I pulled her towards me again. I laid us down
on the bed and let her cry it out.

I felt protective which was an odd sensation. And probably why I
didn't want to remind her that there was still Flitt to deal with. But
I did. This new found compassion was one thing, a paycheck was quite
another.

She was quiet for a while and then I felt her head shift as she nodded.

"Can you go through with it?"

She shook her head no.

"Then I have a suggestion," I said. I spent a few minutes doing the
calculations, while I considered adding in cuddling expenses but then
decided not to be a bastard. "My price will remain the same."

****

"I have ... confession to make," I whispered.

She was expressionless, but I would have bet money that Ella was
thinking she was the last person to grant absolution to anyone. "All
right."

I moved my mouth, pitched my voice low. Ella frowned and asked me to
repeat myself.

"Move ... closer," I said and she looked at me warily.

She's a smart girl but I had burned skin, a raspy voice, and genuine
tears in my eyes. She started to move closer.

I willed my numb fingers to be ready to catch my knife ...

Lunch

A joint post by Callum Kochanski and Naranda Roswell

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

Nara settled in after ordering her food and smiled at him, "How long have you been here?"

Callum smiled from across the table. "About 48 hours." He said as he worked it out in his head. "Only started my assignment here when you docked."

"Been assigned on a Starship before?" She asked curiously.

“Oh, yes.” He replied, Callum was no stranger to starships. He’d previously served on a Nova class scout vessel and an Intrepid class light cruiser, both tines as part of various research missions. “However...” He continued, “This is my first time on a ship so... Big!” Nara could see the look of excitement in the ensign’s face, like a small boy on a big adventure.

She smiled, "I'm sure you know that the hull is the Enterprise hull...”

“Sure do!” He said grinning. “It’s amazing they were able to restore it.” He said as the waiter brought over the food. In front of Callum now was a large bowl of Plomeek soup with a bread roll on the side. For Nara a dish of spiced chicken and rice. “So where do you hail from Naranda?”

"Sakaria." She spoke it casually as she took a bite of chicken.

“Fascinating...” Callum said between spoonfuls, not realising how hungry he’d been before. “Quite an impressive history for a small world.”

"I'm hoping the last war is... the last war." Something about that struck a chord in Callum, unknown to Nara he had such empathy with that thought. However, it was already far too late for his world. He didn’t even know if there was anyone else left. His smile was gone, a very somber man sat opposite Nara now. She noticed this, "What's wrong?"

Callum forced a tiny smile, not the huge grin that usually greeted people but a meek smile of a man in pain. “My home...” He began, quietly. “It was destroyed in war.” He paused... “Not even a real war. A petty boarder dispute which boiled into an unprovoked attack with a whole population paying the price.”

"Where is your home?"

“Setlik III.” He replied with a sigh. “It was on the front line in the Federation/Cardassian border war”

Frowning, she set down her fork, "I'm sorry."

"It’s alright." Callum said recomposing himself and reapplying a smile for show. "It was a long time ago"

"What is it like there now?”

Callum didn’t like lying. But he just, for one moment wanted to believe his home was still there and that he wasn’t the only one left. “Oh it’s great, beautiful golden skies and lush farm lands. Visitors say the grass smells like apples.”

Nara watched him. She always had her mental wall up, not being an active telepath. However, there was something in his tone. A wistfulness that transcended home sickness, to something much sadder.

Sometimes on a summer night I’d run away to the beach with a girl from down the street and lay under the stars. It was... umm is... An amazing place."

She gave him a look of pity. But he was back into his outsider mode. A smile as if everything was still ok. Secretly hoping she wouldn’t see through it, or even if she did just let him believe it for himself. Let him believe that everyone he loved hadn't been killed by cardassians. Or that the other children who'd survived hadn't died in the ranks of the Maquis searching for revenge.

Unfortunately she believed in facing things. She just looked at him, "How about we look at its latest satellite image."

“Nah," He said mopping up the last of his soup with the bread. "I got to go supervise some equipment transfer Think you can finish in engineering without me. It was kind of obvious he was looking for a way out.

"You're not getting off this easy. I know a girl who dealt with something just about as catastrophic and she was brave enough to not hide from it. Are you not as brave as an 11 year old little girl?"

“I’m not afraid." He said dropping his smile. "Maybe I just wanted to avoid the conversation about how Setlik III is now a rocky radioactive wasteland, forgotten by the Federation. Maybe forget that I’m alone in the universe and skip the pity."

"Who said I'd pity you? At least to your face?"

“Your face said it all, don’t worry I don’t mind it’s not the pity that worries me.” He said sitting back. “It’s that total void of being alone... That little girl I told you about? She survived only to die ten years later in a Maquis raid on a Cardassian warship.”

"How long ago did all this happen to you?"

“Almost 22 years.”

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked.

"Umm...” Callum paused; the question had caught him off guard. "No plans... I was going to try out the Galaxy's holodeck. Why?"

"What will you do there?"

Callum smiled, a real one this time. "No idea," He said. "That’s the beauty of a holodeck, imagination is the only limitation."

"Good."

“Why, exactly?” Callum said confused.

“It means your not dwelling in your grief.”

"It’s been 22 years, I think I'm over it" He said putting on the brave face again... Do you have any experience with holodeck's?" He asked

"Yes."

“Then would you care to join me when we both finish our shifts?”

“Why not?”

"That's my motto." Callum said with a wide smile. "1900 hours?" She nodded, smiling. Callum got up to leave. “Now if you’ll excuse me Nara I have some things to attend to.” He took a few steps before he turned back. “Oh by the way, do you know anything about Earth music?”

“A little.” She replied curiously.

Callum smiled as if he had an idea. "I'll see you later then, there’s a... Concert on the holodeck I’ve wanted to try." He winked, then turned around and walked away.

"1000 Steps"

Starring Prince Thufi XXXIV of Hydrax





The last purple rays of daylight twinkled dimly in the fading light.

Subtle shades of magenta and gold blended into a masterpiece of color as the azure sun settled behind the distant mountaintops.

The Capital city below lay shrouded in half darkness now, the twilight hour harkening the coming of artificial neons and flourescent

bulbs, casting their mechanical glare through the swirling methane vapors that was this planets life blood.

This was the throneworld of the Hydrans.

A purple-shrouded landscape cloaked in the poisonous mists that would choke the life from any lesser species in an instant.

A world of toxic lakes and acid rivers......mountains scarred by a flourocarbon rain, and stained with a sulphurious sheen of yellow

sickness.

A strong man would not last a minute on its surface.

It made Prince Thufi XXXIV quite happy that he was not a 'man'.

The Prince, (463rd in line for the throne) breathed in great lungfuls of the purple poison relishing each gulp of fresh air.

By the Stargods! It felt good to be back on the homeworld and breath something other than recycled starship air for months on end.

Years actually..... The Price mused to himself as he made his way down the broad grand avenue of the Capital city.

He'd been aboard the Warship SALARRDO for almost 18 months. Pushing the tiny little cruiser forall its worth.

Testing the ship and crew beyond what any sane Hydran could normally ask of them.

There had been death and destruction along the way.

Death....whether it came by the flames of hot atomic fury, or the icy knives of space.....semantics really.....had claimed almost a

quarter of the Slarrardo's crew in that time.

The once soft blues and violets of the Light Cruiser's hull was now a patchwork of durasteel patches and phaser burns.

But that was all in the past now.

The young Price that boarded the Slarardo 18 months ago had been a mere 5000th in line form the throne of Hydrax.

An inconsequential snot-beaked nobody who could be risked on the frontline aboard a third rate vessle.

What a difference a year and a half made.

Striding proudly......almost goosesteping his threelegs down the Royal Avenue, Prince thufi came before the Forbidden gates of the

Royal household.

These Forbidden Gates.....guarded by the elite death Commandos of the royal guard, and triple shielded with the Kingdoms most

powerful energy barriers would hearken instant death for any who dared pass their Topaz borders.

The Gates parted easily before his stride, yawning open into the Imperial throneroom itself......the Death Commandos lowering their

eyes in deference to one of the few allowed to breach their security and come into the holiest of holies....

Yes by the Gods what a difference a Year made!!

Through the chances of warfare and courtroom intrigue, Prince Thufi had broken into being 463rd in line to the throne, and was now

recognized as one of the rising young stars of the extended royal family.

Slarrardo was recalled to the homeworld, no longer being a vessle of suitable 'distinction' for nobility of his rank.

A Carrier....perhaps even a Dreadnought would be in the offering now, and while the Prince held a special place in his heart for the

daring little Light Cruiser, he had ridden the slarrardo as far as it would take im to glory.

For the rest of the trip he needed to break out the big guns....both literally and figurtively.

Political plotting, assassinations and backroom deals would be a new weapon in his arsenal......equally powerful as the Hellbores and

fusion Cannon's he commanded in the dark of stellar night.

Prince Thufi was mounting the 1000 Steps now.

the Forbidden dais of Steps that none save the innermost sanctum of the Royal Family dared set flipper upon.

There were a thousand of these steps leading up to the Throne itself, each designated for a single member of the inner cabal, and as

befit his station, Thufi stopped on the 463rd from the top.

More than halfway up the dais!! He thrilled..... and yet still so far. The Glittering Amethyst throne itself was still in the

distance the Queen herself all but invisible as an indistinct figure.

She however had not neglected to note his presence.

"THOUS HATH LONG BEEN AWAY FROM COURT THUFI n'LARENN 15th COUSIN OF MY UNCLES 43rd DAUGHTER."

The computer amplified voice of the Queen herself carried down the the 463rd step, seeming to whisper into the Prices very earflap.

"I have MiLady." Thufi replied softly, the same computer carrying his words back up to the pinacle of Hydran power itself. "You are

kind to recognize my lineage."

"THOU STANDETH ON THE 1000 STEPS COUSIN. WE ARE ALL FAMILY ON THIS THRONE."

Not entirely true.

Related yes, but the sort of political backbiting and betrayl that was common among those on the 1000 steps hardly made thier

relations....'familial'

"THOU HAST FOUND SUCCESS AMONGST THE STARS YOUNG THUFI."

Thufi bowed slightly to the distant figure. , "The stars have been kind. MiLady."

"...FAR MORE SUCCESS THAN WOULD HAVE BEEN SUPPOSED A MERE YEAR BEFORE."

The Prince grit his beak at the implied insult, but held his peace. He stood on the 463rd step!!!
A year ago he could not even have entered the building, and here he more than halfway up the throne.

~~~More than halfway there!!~~~ he fumed.

"WE SHALL HAVE TO REWARD THEE SUITABLY FOR THY MILITARY PROWESS....A NEW VESSLE TO COMMAND AGAINST THY QUEEN'S ENEMIES."

"So be it myLady. You are too Kind." Again this was expected....A SuperCarrier maybe?

There was along pause from the distant Queen, before the augmented voice again wispered into his ear.

"TAKE HEED OF THE HEIGHTS TO WHICH THEE HAVE RISEN 15TH COUSIN. REMEMBER IN THY RISE THAT FAR MANY MORE HAVE SLIPPED AND FALLEN AND

MAY NOT LOOK KINDLY UPON THY SUCCESS."

The warning was common sence for any Hydran, but to hear it from the Queen itself was suffciently odd enough to shake Thufi's nerve

for a moment.

Did she know something he did not?

He HAD been away from court for a long while, and it would be some weeks before his new Ship command was confirmed."

"Indeed miLady.....I shall endeavor to watch my step."

WISE....FOR FALLS FROM SUCH HEIGHTS ARE NOT EASILY SURVIVED.

Prince Thufi XXXIV.....Hero of the battles of Romulus, the Battle of , and the battle of the nebula.........Former Master and

Commander of the Light Cruiser Slarrardo, and now standing on the 463rd step from the Throne suddenly looked pale.

This apparently was a battlfield far more dangerous than the interstellar void to which he was so familiar.

The Stakes much bigger......and the rewards far richer.

"The Final Lesson" - Part Six

Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. Victor Krieghoff
Eileen Grey, npc

****

USS Galaxy
Ella's quarters

She was going to kill Corran Rex.

"I don't understand, precious," Eileen Grey said with a slight frown.
"You did this to your voice... deliberately?"

Ella thought about replying that it had always been a childhood dream
to sound like a heavily accented Hispanic male but her mother had
never understood sarcasm. Or if she did, the woman was a master of
pretending that she didn't.

"No, Mother," Ella answered in what she hoped passed for a patient
tone. She finished sending her message and set her computer PADD
aside. "I've lost my vocal patch and this is the back-up."

She didn't bother to add what her usual "voice" sounded like. She had
enough of a headache as it was.

"It's a prototype and there are only a few settings," Ella continued.
Apparently, her ex had been attempting to create a more human voice
and had succeeded, before his sense of humor had gotten the better of
him. Besides the voice of Darth Vader, she also had a setting called
'Antonio Banderas' and something called 'Gollum' to choose from.

She thought Antonio was the least offensive. It would probably take
her a few hours to fix but it would have to wait until she could spare
the time.

If she made it through this week, Corran was getting the mother of all
bitch outs.

"Well, I hope you will use John's services when he returns," Her
mother said in a voice that said she *would* be signing instead of
speaking. "You sound ludicrous."

"Really?" Ella asked. Her mother, true to form, ignored her.

Daro and her father had gone golfing on one of the holodecks and
weren't expected back for at least another two hours. Ella supposed
that she should have been more worried about what the assassin would
do with his down time but Daro had said he would not make his move
until the day of the party. For some reason she believed him. After
all, Victor wasn't the easiest of targets and it would be even harder
to get to him while he was in the middle of Security.

Replicating some drinks as an excuse to interrupt the conversation,
she offered up a silent prayer of thanks when the door chimed,
signaling a visitor and another possible distraction. "Come on in,"
she called out.

The door slid open and a familiar tingle reached her just as her
mother's high pitched scream sounded through the room as Eileen almost
bolted from the couch, backpedaled in terror, tripped on her own high
heels, and went crashing to the floor.

Oh dear, Ella thought.

"Mother," She said calmly. "Mother, it's okay. This is Victor. He's
not going to hurt you."

Victor considered offering Ella's mother a hand up, but, given the
strength of her reaction, decided that it wouldn't go well. He took a
step back, hoping that would be sufficient to place him out of range
of Mrs. Grey, and thought non-threatening peaceful thoughts. "I'm
sorry, ma'am," he said quietly. "I didn't realize that you'd be here
when I stopped by to see Ella, or that my presence would affect you so
strongly. Please, forgive me."

"It ... speaks?" Eileen asked. She almost looked at her daughter. "You know it?"

Ella winced. He might not admit it but she thought that people's
negative reactions over the years had to hurt. ~~I'm sorry~~

Victor shrugged. He'd heard the words, but now, after a lifetime as
Chulak, and with Angelienia to hold him and friends to support him, he
understood that they only had the power to hurt him if he allowed them
to. As he always did nowadays, he decided that he wouldn't. "It's all
right Ella," he assured her with a nod and a smile. "She's just
startled, that's all."

"Victor's a friend, Mother," Ella said out loud. "Why don't we step
into the hallway, Tiger?"

He stared at her for a moment, unable to reconcile the deep, resonant,
menacing - and masculine - tomes that were coming from Ella with her
appearance. "You've reprogrammed your voice modulator," he observed
somewhat unnecessarily. The voice was so memorable and incongruous
that he could only assume that she'd done it as part of a joke and
hadn't had time to reset it yet.

"That's a long story," She said as she moved to take his arm and pull
him in the direction of the door. "We'll be back in a moment, Mother."

Eileen Grey whimpered in response, probably thinking she was never
going to see her baby again, Ella thought.

"Sorry about that, Victor," Ella said as soon as the doors shut. "What
can I do for you?"

Victor stared at her for a moment longer, then shook his head and
smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry; the voice is just... disconcerting. What
I came by to do was say 'thank you.'"

"For what?"

"For asking us both to help out; that meant a lot, considering." He
nodded to her. "I appreciate it."

"Oh," She replied. What could she really say to that? "No problem. I'm
glad you guys are enjoying yourselves."

"I don't know that planning receptions and parties are my thing,"
Victor conceded. "Or that they ever will be, considering - but
Angelienia loves that sort of thing, and smiling and nodding when it
seems appropriate isn't that hard a task. It's good to see people
having fun around me."

Smiling and nodding is a lot harder than you think, Tiger, Ella
thought. But her smile for Victor this time was real. "I'm glad it's
been a bit easier on you. Well, I should probably get back in there
and make sure she's all right."

He nodded. "There's just one more thing - I wanted to tell you now,
because it looks like I'm going off-ship for a while, and I might not
have the chance to do so for a while - or make the reception, for that
matter." He nodded towards the door. "Although given your mother's
reaction, that may be less of an issue than it might otherwise."

"Where are you going?" She asked, trying to not show the sudden
happiness she felt. If he were off the ship, there was less chance of
Daro getting to him. She might have to move a bit quicker but still
... Victor would be out of danger.

Victor considered that. Should he tell her? Would it be a security
risk? "Hunting some lost children," he finally went with. It wasn't
far from the truth; Kit was like a child in some ways. Most people
were, when seen from the distance of his century-long life as Chulak.

She tilted her head. "Will Angie be going with you?"

She would if he asked her; Victor knew that. They'd talked about it,
and decided that this time she needed the time working with the new
CAG and the rest of the replacements in Vanguard Squadron and their
new fighters, time that would mean life or death for her the next time
that she had to fly a mission. "No, not this time; there's too much
going on in the squadron right now. She doesn't want to leave while
you're still in so much flux."

"Well, I'll keep you on the guest list just in case," Ella said.

"Your mother will be thrilled," he commented dryly, smiling.

"It's her natural state of being," Ella replied just as dryly. Of
course, with her new voice, it sounded ... strange. "Take care,
Victor."

"You too, Ella," he nodded. He hesitated, shook his head, and smiled.
"And please do something about that voice modulator - it's killing
me."

Ella smiled. "Can't have that."

"The Final Lesson" - Part 7

Ella Grey
Saul Bental

*****

The Galaxy's "bulletin board" had been created after the Romulan katra
incident to stop the influx of personal messages from flooding the
daily news and intelligence reports. It had been very popular amongst
the many people trying to re-connect with their katra's former mates,
family, and friends but now was used more as a resource for dating and
or finding people with similar fetishes like Klingon bondage or
interest in Ferengi lobes.

Even though it was mostly crap, Ella knew that he checked the boards
daily. And so she knew he would get the message.

- Meet me at the regular place at the regular time, Beloved -

Ella knew the 'beloved' would certainly catch his attention. Eela
hadn't been one to lavish affectionate nicknames unless she wanted
something.

She was waiting for seven minutes when Saul arrived. In their final
years, Sotha and Eela always dined around this time. Often it was the
only time of day they were together except for at night in bed.

"Live long and prosper." She heard his voice, coming from behind.

"I need your help," Ella said before he even sat down across from her.

Saul was used to people approaching him with that exact sentence,
having the reputation of go-to guy if you were aboard and needed
something obtained or done. Nonetheless, Ella was a proud person, and
would never approach him if it wasn't important. She was also one of
the few people on the ship he would do something for without asking
anything in return, implicitly or explicitly.

"Shoot."

"Saul," She began, not really knowing how to approach this. If he said
no, then the game was over right then and there. And then it was very
likely that she'd be in the Brig soon after. "Let's go for a walk."

The two of them stood up without a word. As they exited the crowded
hall, Ella felt Saul's hand on her left shoulder blade.

"Do you remember that traitor in the Az Shiber and how Sotha wanted to
dispatch him?" Eela had been a very hands-on person. That particular
commission had always unnerved her.

"Vaguely." The memories faded more and more each day since he and Ella
deposited their katras in the urn at Mount Hertzel.

"I need something of that sort," Ella said.

The hand left her back.

"I see. Who?"

Saul activated the jammer device which waited in his pocket for just
these kind of occasions. He regretted not bringing 'Thing' along.

Ella inhaled. She hoped that he would understand. Having once had
Sotha's katra, and the Romulan katras selecting like-minded
individuals, Ella thought he might be inclined to help her.

She quickly laid out everything, her relationship with Cole, the hit
on Victor, and her "back-up" plan - a plan that would need something
which wouldn't set off the computer's alarm system. "I can't turn him
in without turning myself in as well. And Victor ,,,"

Victor was different now. Happy. She couldn't mess with that.

"I don't want him involved," She continued. "I still might be able to
change Daro's mind."

Ella really didn't see that happening but it was probably better to
ease Saul into the whole situation.

"You won't. I know these people. And I suspect you're not too worried
about Victor either."

"Oh?" He hadn't been horrified or made her feel guilty. Ella relaxed slightly.

"You would have dealt with it immediately otherwise."

Saul stopped abruptly by a console. A few clicks, then he reached with
his right hand beneath his left armpit. To Ella's surprise, something
moved, and then he held an isolinear chip. He inserted the chip to one
of the console slots.

"Computer, store the entire records of all the personnel who boarded
the Galaxy in the last week to slot D."

He glanced at her. "Listen - I'll take care of it; You're too involved
with both of them, so they'll question you first after 'Dear John' is
gone. Correction - Corgan and *I* will question you. Leave it to me."

She shook her head. "As far as anyone knows, we just met. If something
has to happen, it has to be me, Saul. This is my mess. I don't like
involving anyone else as it is."

"But he came with your parents so he is essentially your guest." Saul
shrugged. "As you wish. I respect that. I don't suppose using the
official channels to apprehend him is a good idea."

"I like my life here," Ella said. "I don't think it can continue if
he's arrested. He'll tell everything. Plus he won't go willingly ... I
think if it has to happen it's better this way."

"What do you need done?"

"I need a present," She replied with a faint smile.

"The War on Other Fronts: Delta IV"

Takes place roughly after the Battle of the Kateren nebula in the last mission

"Y`lia...its time for Evenmeal....wash up please."

Springing from her plush blue Hossh Cusion in front of the TriDee, the slim Deltan girl snapped off the set with a wave of her hand, and lightly danced on tip toes across the Clan room for the fresher.

Perhaps 8 years of age, pale skinned and completely bald, the lack of hair seemed perfectly natural on the child, even for those races not so intuned to universal baldness.

Maybe it was her happy go lucky giggle and bouncing half walking/half hopping mode of getting around the house.

Bald human children look sick and near death…….

Deltan children were like unto tiny pixies of bubbliness.

Merrily humming a happy little tune, Y'lia dangled her thin fingers under the sonic spritzer, giggling slightly as the invisible sound waves

vibrated her hands into cleanliness.

"Y'lia.....did you hear me 'fi?" came the call again for evenmeal.

"Coming 'donnya." the girl called to her mother, her voice like the tender peals of small bells.

Hopping her way down the central stairs, the girl skidded gracefully to a stop beside the Evenmeal table, and took her place behind her chair.

Her 'donnya gave the tardy sprite a playful cross look, while her older sister U'lee tsk'd more seriously.

Older sisters were so hard to please.

Dinnertimes on Delta IV would be at once familiar to any human visitors. The customary gathering of the family unit behind their chairs until the 'donnya brought in the central dish was reminiscent of humans gathering to say grace.

The wiggles and giggles of the younger children (or 'fi) as they squirmed in their seats was similar to Earth children's own antics.

The strong father (or 'fen) stood tall and proud over his family.

Traditionally waiting for the 'donnya and all the 'fi to serve themselves and finish eating before he began.

After all in the ancient days it was the 'fen's responsibility to feed his tribe.....who would think of taking food for himself before his

children?

Modern technology and an end to hunger had softened the tradition, and nowadays most 'fen were content to nibble idly as the family ate.

Indeed, a human would have been completely comfortable in a Deltan household…….

Except for the fact of the nudity.

Point of fact, but it deserves to be said that Y'lia and her family were not completely naked…..nor were Deltans in general what would be described on Earth as nudists.

Human nudists go without clothes on purpose…..for a variety of reasons……..comfort……shock value….perversion….to make a social statement……live the 'lifestyle'....or what have you.

Deltans however gave it little thought one way or the other…..dressing or undressing as fashion struck them with no underlying purpose or agenda

It was like chosing to wear white socks or black.....just depended on the outfit and the occasion.

The 'fen was the most fully dressed. A silky trouser-shirt combination (similar to a Japanese ji) of light tans and blues that shimmered in the evening light. Barefoot and comfortable, he was the image of relaxation.

The Fair 'donnya was elegant in her formal headband set with ornate twisting of silver and bronze. A filmy slip of fabric hung from one shoulder covering herself…..or not…….depending on how she glided across the room. It was as beautiful as she.

The young 'fi were likewise dressed (or not) in the typical stylings of their age group.

Teenage U'lee, was a silky nymph in a sheer scarf of pale dyed greens and golds. Clasped at the neck and largely transparent, the fashion was simply that….fashion for a young girl.

The fact that it was see through made no issue with the Deltans…….why should it?

It looked nice, and didnt cost too much, so it was entirely appropriate.

Youngest Y'lia pranced around in a simple skirt…..and nothing else.

Why?

Because she liked the skirt.

Her parents barely gave it a thought. Why should they?


This is where the 'reputation' came from.

The Deltans were a beautiful people.

Lithe and graceful, they ran the gamut form 'merely' good looking, to the stunningly beautiful.

A planet full of Adonis's and Venus's with a passion for light and life like few others in the Federation.

Wonderful people……except for the 'reputation'.

It was a shame really.....the sex thing.

In a galaxy of 'sexually immature beings' those who had grown and transcended above it all, had somehow found themselves the hoary punch line to a thousand dirty jokes.

"How many Deltans does it take to...."

"There once was a lady from Delta....."

"A priest, a Deltan and a Rabbi walk into a bar......."

Pick any opening line, and the ending was about sex.

To the whole universe it seemed that all of Delta IV was only 'about sex'

It was an unfounded misinformed shame.

The rest on the universe didn't understand the ocean of difference between 'sexually evolved' and 'sexual perversion.'

A mature being is comfortable and at ease with is body and those around him......

A pervert feels the need to walk down the street wearing a big plastic wiener.

There were no dildos on Delta IV.....Why make a mockery of a beautiful thing?

Besides who really needed them when you had friends and neighbors?

"How was Lessons today girls?" the male Deltan asked.

His name was Paal. 47 years old and recently retired from Starfleet.

He'd spent much of his younger days soaring across the universe taking in the sights and wonders of the Federation and its territories.

However in his heart he knew he had to leave….had to get back to his beloved Delta IV.

Away from all those jokes, and away from the mandatory Oath of Celibacy.

The Oath wasn't so much an issue as most made it out to be.

Deltans would no more abuse a less mature being than a grown man would take advantage of a child.

Each was a perversion of the highest nature.

Occasionally there was a match made between an Delta and a particularly mature human, but those were rare and often viewed as 'robbing the cradle' on the Deltans behalf.

"Lessons was boring." U'lee poked at her food. A typical teenager.

"Boring…..Knowledge is never a bore my 'fi." he soothed, "However…tonight I think I can provide an interesting lesson for us all. We are having visitors."

"Visitors 'fen?" young Y'lia inquired as she sipped her klah. " Who….relatives? Love mates?"

Paal smiled. "No….visitors from my days in Starfleet. You remember tales of my friend Lieutenant Trevors?"

"The alien?"

"Yes the man from Earth. We served together on the USS Potempkin, and he just signaled his new ship is in orbit. If its okay with the family, I've invited him and a friend down for a visit for a bit"

"Razzy Ploo!" U'lee's interest perked up. "Real Aliens! Two of them? Here?"

Visitors on Delta were relatively uncommon. The same Oath of Celibacy that Deltans were required to take when leaving their world worked in reverse.

A Starfleet officer beaming down to Delta IV was likewise required to take an Oath not to mingle with the natives……as difficult as that may have been.

The soft tinkle of chimes interrupted any further discussion, and the children's eyes lit up in excitement.

"They're here." exclaimed young Y'lia almost popping out of her seat. "Can we greet them 'fen can we?"

Paal laughed slightly and nodded. It wasn't everyday an alien rang your doorbell. "Go with her U'lee, your 'donnya and I will be along presently."

Y'lia made a slight face at her older sister being allowed to greet the aliens as well....she wanted to do it herself, but as a young woman U'lee was expected to start upholding the household duties such as hosting guests on her parents behalf.

********

Lieutenant Commander John Trevors leaned forward to pull on the little silver door chime again marveling at its simple beauty.

He and the human woman next to him had been on Delta IV for less than 10 minutes total (having just beamed down from the Orbital Station) but already the world struck him as one of grace and beauty.

And light....

It wasn't anything that Trevors could put his finger on, but everything seemed brighter on Delta IV.

It wasn't just a matter of more sunlight...but maybe the air seemed cleaner and crisper and the colors brighter.

~~What a fantastic planet.~~~ he mused to himself for not the first time.

That was when the ornate door slid open and the slender half naked teenager enveloped him in a warm tender embrace.

"Welcome to the home of our fathers..." she breathed huskily, her breath warm and sweet on his face.

Few humans had ever had the priviledge....or the maturity to mate with Deltans.

Those that had described the experience as '...like melting in a sea of warm chocolate.....everything is smooth and sweet and smells wonderful....It wasnt the wild and crazy crash of orgasms that the old jokes made fun of, but rather a more spiritual and relaxing experience.

Like a hot bubblebath of love.

The girls hug was similar as he felt all the tension and stres melting from his bodyinto her warm arms....

It took all of his willpower and discipline not keep his hands still as the overpowering natural pheromones of Deltans rushed over him in a wave of warm tingles.

Only three things kept him a gentleman at that amazing instant.

1. His Oath to Starfleet (dangit)

2. His fellow officer standing next to him in wide eyed wonder.

3. The girl was half his age (underage most likely) and no doubt the daughter of his good friend Paal.

"Errr….ah…..wow…..very glad to be here." he managed with a nod.
~~What a fantastic planet.~~~ he thought yet again.

The greeting was not sexual in any way, but more of a loving snuggle and hug….just a way of welcoming a guest……

As quick as it begun, the embrace slid away and the girl.....woman?.....girl?...was wrapping herself the human woman standing behind him, repeating the greeting with a cloying scent of natural perfume.

"Welcome to the home of our fathers...." she breathed into her surprised face.

~~~Wow....what those jokes said about Deltan women was ~~~........no.....it wasn't quite right.

John Trevors stole a nervous glance at the bald young girl smiling beautifully from the doorway.

A girl...not a woman....he decided, with sparkling blue eyes.
The jokes were not right. Despite his arrousal he could see there was nothing implied by the greeting…..just strange and beautiful and…..

"YOW….who are you?"

"Hi." smiled the cute little girl wearing just a small skirt and nothing more. "I'm Y'lia. Puh-leezed to meet you."

"Uh…."

"Shake?" The imp held out her tiny hand….clearly a gesture she'd seen on a newsreel somewhere on how humans greeted.

Ears burning John did so, wishing for all the world he had somewhere to look that didn't include a naked kid.

"John! My friend!" Paal arrived in the doorway, "You've made it at last. Welcome to my humble home."

At last a familiar face. John stuck out his hand again. "Lieutenant Paal….Im…uh…honored….you don't think I could say no to an old crewmate?"

The Deltan man shook his head with a grin. "No John…..just Paal….Im out of the service now. Civilian and proud of it. How was the trip?"

Trevors allowed himself to be ushered into the house, "Rough Paal…rough…..The Zeus got pretty banged up and Captain von Ernst only put in here for emergency repairs….and oh….I forgot to introduce my fellow crewmate. This is Commander Teresa Church….one of the two XO's aboard ship.... goes by

the name of…."

"Panic." the tall woman extricated herself form the arms of the young Deltan and stuck out her hand, "Call me Panic."