"Coffin Pod Drop"

PO2 Maxwell

Lt. Victor Krieghoff

Lt. Dhanishta Eshe

Col. For'kel Arvelion

***Location, Space above Altroth III***

The sudden thud with his head feeling like it just went through the percussion section of the Boston Orchestra was pretty much the catalyst needed to make the dour Medic puke. Thank goodness for anti-emetics! The ejection from the vessel was a strange feeling, somewhat similar to what he had practiced several times in the escape pods. The only difference was less dampening from the generator, more of that dragging and falling sensation.

He remembered the sudden thud-fooosh! And then total silence... except for the music tracks he listened to at a low enough volume to pay attention to the telemetry being fed to his Hazard Suit Helmet (he actually figured out the wireless options on his own). The power consumption was about the same as a dozen LED lights clustered, so he didn't have to worry about that. For a moment, he was taken back to the summer before his senior year of high school started. The accident. Where he lost normal use of his legs. A subatmospheric shuttle crash in the midwest where he nearly lost his life and indeed was the only survivor. A split second of sheer terror gripped him, and so did the nausea. Eventually they both subsided and his training took over, as well as some techniques the Counselors taught him to remain calm.

What he was worried about was actually bumping into someone else on the way down or getting hit by space debris. With that thought in mind, he wondered how everyone else was doing.

****

The launch was no better or worse than Victor had expected. Better than the ghostly memories his conversation with Dhani had brought back by far –he still had both his arms for example – but worse than his only previous experience with small-craft crashes, since the torpedo casing had no internal inertial dampeners and only an improvised impact harness. After the initial slam of the launch, there was nothing but silence and the calm floating of zero gravity as the torpedo casing sped on its way.

Perhaps too much calm, and too much silence.

Freed from distractions, as he'd powered down everything in the Hazard Team uniform and reduced his life support to one setting above minimal to lower his power consumption and reduce his detection signature, his mind wandered as the torpedo casing sped onwards, remembering things that he'd tried not to think of too much for months and years now. The cramped surroundings brought back the room with the crushing walls that had forced Ella to tell him how she felt. The silent darkness made him recall the long jump between ships during the Dominion War that had cost him his original left lung. The way the container of extra equipment pressed against him made him think of a lifetime of nights spent with Sakonna laying next to him. And that, inevitably, brought to mind the nights when they didn't just lie there, and the things that they'd done.

Victor tried not to remember them, tried to push them aside and think about something else, but the images and the memories, once the floodgates had opened, wouldn't stop. They flashed through his mind for an eternity, sometimes with different people and different faces taking Sakonna's place – Ella Grey, Angelienia, Rissa, Betty Goldstein, Shelley O'Rourke, and even Chief Cannon from Transporter Control - until his suit unnecessarily tripped a warning that it no longer fit properly below the waist, his discomfort having already told him that.

Victor took a series of deep breaths, cycled his helmet open, and knocked the thoughts out of his head by the simple expedient of banging it into an internal support until he was cross-eyed from the pain. Resealing the helmet, he closed his eyes, let the pain fade… and then cursed, and settled in for a long, long trip as, despite the pain, the images started to return again.

****

The transition was a simple shift in perception, nothing more and nothing less. Already underway before she even left the ship. Dhanishta's conscious mind was already falling behind, although not suppressed as it had once been. This time it was subtle, a shift that no one would notice, a shift that was welcome rather than feared.

She could feel his heart beat like and echo of her own. She could hear his thoughts as if they were an extension of her own, and she could feel 'her' like a parasite worming around in her gut waiting with baited breath to come forth from the recess of darkness it was cocooned within.

The memories of Romulus ebbed on the edge of her psyche; the fear of what was to come filled her mind, her body shook as she thought of what might be. The only calming factor was his voice. It was like a glimmer of light at the edge of a shadowed abyss, it was words of wisdom that she alone could never possess.

There is nothing before, nothing after, just the battle and nothing more.

Those words floated in her mind, and she made herself concentrate on them. Every time her mind lapsed and began to run on a tangent she brought it back to that statement and focused upon it as it was oxygen.

She breathed those words in, exhaled them out and somewhere in-between the shift was made…

****

Wow the damn thing really 'was' cramped. He felt the beginning throbbing of pain in his knees which occasionally happened when he was in a very tight space. Standing up again was probably going to hurt like a bitch, but he certainly wasn't going to spend the mission in what passed for a coffin with rockets. Man, if this turned into a coffin he'd be heading into the after life in style!

They were most certainly strange thoughts, but the Colonel had discovered long ago that it was best not to think about the predicament you found yourself in, particularly when it came to stupid and dangerous stunts of your own design. He'd said his prayers; made his peace... the only thing to do now was wait.

Inevitably his thoughts turned back to his wife. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to wonder, if only briefly whether or not she was there. If she was, what would the reunion be like? If she was... what the hell could they have 'done' to her? Most importantly, could they 'save' her?

She really was the light of life. He heard that tune she liked humming and singing to when she was baking, or while she was waiting on him to finish cooking, or when she was putting Koren to rest after they'd read to him. It might have been wishful thinking, or just an auditory hallucination, but it was a damned convincing one.

And then the whole world went topsy-turvey. It certainly wasn't a surprise, he'd expected a hard impact... and he wasn't disappointed. What 'was' surprising was that he managed to survive it, jostling inside against the walls, bouncing up and down as his casing was thrown end over end, finally sliding to a halt some distance away.

Grateful for the fact that the device was soundproof; he let out a string of swears and groans as he righted himself. There was definitely going to be a lot of bruises come morning. He managed to hit the release catch, and jumped out of his casing much faster than one would have thought likely.

Rifle in hand, his first act was to survey the area before he gathered the rest of his gear, and moved on to the rally point.

"All In"- Operation Retrieval

Colonel For'kel Arvelion
Commanding Officer

Sergeant Thral (PCC- Mike)
Demolitions Specialist
188th Starfleet Marines Detachment
=========================================

(Altroth III)

It had been slow going to say the least, but finally all the teams were in place. If the Hydrans had seen them coming, they certainly gave no indication of such. He wondered if this was how Han Solo felt before he tried to take down the Death Star's shields... yeah a knowledge of antique movies was just one more of those things Bery had that rubbed off on him over the years.

The grounds of the Altroth III Special Operations and Flight survival school were ominous, but other than the building and the flight deck, there wasn't anything much to it. Almost all of the classes were held outside, so there was no reason for a lot of infrastructure. The only reason it drew their attention was because it happened to be the building which defended the power generator for the entire Altroth III Naval complex.

"Are we ready?" He murmured in between breaths from the re-breather.

"Support and assault teams are in position, Colonel." Leah Owen nodded.

"Come on Sergeant, set the breeching charge."

"Was already on it sir. Had to turn em down a bit though, didn't want to get any of ours. Still should do the job.", Thral replied as he whipped a pair of block shaped charges off the bottom of his pack. Some demolitionists would have taken a few seconds to study the wall but Thral had done this enough times that he quickly slapped the blocks in the perfect spot and stepped away.

"Fire in the hole!", he half shouted after taking a swig from the rebreather. One breath later he pushed the keypad on his wrist and a hole large enough for the squad to move through appeared. "Party time kids!"

As soon as the charge exploded, they were on the proverbial clock.

Everyone powered up and moved in. The shock and disbelief on the faces of the Hydran Navy's future Special Operators and Fighter Pilots was unmistakable as they, along with what looked like Triad training advisors, stared at what they assumed must have been another drill when Starfleet Marines came streaming through the door, weapons blazing. This time it was no simulation... it wasn't their instructors trying to scare the hell out of them, it wasn't some kind of drill, this was the real deal, and real hot phaser fire heading their way.

It really wasn't right to call it an 'assault', as that presumed the Marines had attacked a group ready to defend themselves. The 250 plus personnel in the dormitory were unarmed, and exhausted after having just come back from field training exercises. In the end, not a single one of the students of this academy class would live to see graduation.

"Clear!" Corporal Tithes, barked out.

"Good. Plant the charges. Thral, Owen, Kaz, you're with me." For'kel forced open the door leading to the access hall for the installation's power systems. It wasn't long that they had to run, with only the one automated plasma turret which was easily knocked out. Moisture began seeping into the re-breathed oxygen as each member of the team began sweating. It got so that you could almost taste it in the air... this was the no turning back point. After this, they were in it for keeps.

On the other side of the double doors they came upon, a trio of Hydran engineers prepared to defend their stations. Between them they had just one rifle and two hand held plasma weapons. Not an overwhelming amount of firepower. but they hadn't been expecting an attack on one of the most secured facilities in all of Hydran space. If it wasn't for the fact they'd 'heard' the commotion directly above them, they also would have assumed this was simply another drill. Ker'que, the head of the trio, concentrated the combined ocular focus of all three of his stalks on the door ahead of them. They'd taken cover the best they could, behind station or bulkhead or even the core itself.

"As soon as the door opens, fire!" He clicked furiously, turning back just in time.

There was the terrifying shock of another explosion, shards of the heavy door that once kept the inside secured flew inward, slicing into everything in their path. The Hydran on Ker'que's left lost his right most eye stalk to one such shard, and he himself felt a jagged piece cut into his left arm. Still the trio opened merciless fire on the open door, intending to keep their assailants out by volume of fire if not by effectiveness. That lasted for a full twenty seconds, an eternity in the heat of conflict, until they stopped. After all of it, not a single Marine had come in.

"Where are they?!" The wounded Hydran on the left growled.

"Maybe we killed them all." The hopeful, unscathed Hydran on the right offered.

Ker'que, like every good leader regardless of species or service allegiance, took it upon himself to take charge of the situation. Gulping, or whatever the Hydran equivalent was, he raised his rifle, his three legs cautiously crossing over each other as he stepped towards the door, intent on seeing exactly what happened. There was the tiniest of clacks, a pling, and the sound of a metalic orb rolling down a hard floor.

Ker'que barely had time to scream "Merkle Glerkel!" and turn before it went off.

The four Marines came bursting in through the door then. Following the inward explosion of the door, and then the photon grenade, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot left to clean up. There was no time to celebrate though, they were on the clock. "Set the charges, Thral." For'kel ordered before opening up his tricorder and establishing a direct link to the Hydran's main frame. It contained the virus that had been created by the Data Warfare unit, with the help of Intel, to paralyze the security lockouts and establish a datalink with their captured ship. It took nearly forty seconds... Owen and Tithes maintaining an impatient vigil while the Stagnorian and Tellerite worked.

"Now comes my favorite part.", Thral smirled as he pulled off his pack and started pulling satchel charges out. "Hmm, one here...another one here....oooh, one here, that should make things look real nice."

"Sir...you're..."

"Yes, I'm making it pretty." Thral returned Owen's quizzical look with his customary glare. She wasn't used to seeing a demolitionist walking around like a sculptor. But that was exactly what Thral was doing as he placed his smaller charges on the reactor. Didn't need much to make it go up so he could afford to be creative. "That should do it sir. Not my best work but it will do."

"Got it." For'kel nodded as his tricorder completed the upload and executed. Shutting it and shoving it in his pocket, he grabbed his rifle. "Arvelion to Beta team, split up and head for your objectives. Good luck." The quartet began racing back up the hall they just came down. The purplish hazy hue to everything made it somewhat more challenging to find your way out without being disoriented, but they managed to head right back out the same whole they just created. Outside there was screaming to echo the organized chaos unfolding. The automated defenses were by now activated, but having breeched the well defended perimeter and forcing the base's defenders to turn their fire inward muted the advantage they offered and provided excellent cover.

The speedy Colonel ducked into the storage shed that was their pre-arranged hold out. Owen, being pretty quick in her own right came in next, and between the two of them there was sufficient covering fire and smoke to allow the explosives laden (although now much lighter) Thral and Tithes. "Thral, do it! Arvelion to Ilia, you have thirty seconds before the back-ups kick in."

With what could best be described as the most gleeful look the devil himself could conjure up the Tellarite pressed the button. A split second later the marines could feel ground pulse as the reactor went up. Thral looked over his shoulder and smiled wickedly. "And we're only getting started."

"On it." Came the unnervingly cool voice of the 188th's lead computer geek.

Fork checked his watch. "Twenty seconds."

"Standby." The same calm voice spoke.

Leah bit on her lower lip, ever so lightly.

"Ten seconds." The Colonel took a breath.

"Standby."

"Five seconds..."

"Ok Colonel, we're in." Ilia replied to the great relief of a good number of people around him. "Re-directing their defensive fire now. Mother hen's got you."

"All right, let's go." For'kel took off, leading the way where the rest of the team would be awaiting them. By now Victor, Dhani, Max and the others should be in position and waiting. "Lieutenant Krieghoff, we're clear. Make your move, I'll see you back aboard ship."

The sound of explosions coming from the fighter field in the distance indicated that Lieutenant Ward's group was now doing their job. Without sensors,datalinks, or fighters for that matter, it would be virtually impossible for the Hydrans to make effective use of the three squadrons available to them.

The quartet of Marines made their rendezvous with the rest of 1st platoon who's job it would be to clear this side of the prison, meeting up with 2nd platoon midway through, and enabling the evacuation of what they presumed to be maybe 3 of 4 dozen prisoners once the medics checked them out. It should have been a simple matter of breeching the wall, walking in, killing what few guards were around, freeing the prisoners, giving them rebreathers, and walking out.

Well they were bound to hit a 'kink' in the plan at some point.

The door opened without them... and there wasn't anyone on the other side trying to leave. It was the
damndest thing.

"It could be a trap." Leah murmured, tightening her hold on her rifle.

"It could be." For'kel nodded and ran a quick tricorder check. "But if it is, it's masterfully disguised. Stay here." The Colonel took a few tentative steps through the wide open door... and not a damned thing
happened. It was as if the Prophets themselves had smiled upon their rescue mission. He could hardly believe it when he checked a Hydran console. If he was reading it right, all the cells had been set to local control (meaning they could be opened from the cell rather than from the master security console) 'and'
all the doors between them and the POW's were mysteriously opened. Needless to say, 'that' wasn't the kink which was spoken of earlier. No, the 'kink' came when he got a read on just how many prisoners there
REALLY were. Some were Romulans, some were Klingons, some were even Cardassians, and Starfleeters made up the bulk, but all told there must have been somewhere near 400 prisoners in the complex. He couldn't help but let go of a quote attributed to none other than the infamous Captain Von Ernst herself...

"Fiddlesticks."

"We don't have enough re-breathers for 'all' of them!" Tithes noted, in the event any one else in the team had trouble telling the difference between about 50 and nearly 400.

"And we can't beam them out?" Leah figured it would probably be interpreted as a stupid question, but with the facility being firmly under their control save for a few unnecessary systems...

"No." For'kel sighed. "The Hydrans are fanatical about transporter security it seems. The only way to issue transporter commands on this base is from the command center. Our ship won't be able to beam us up on it's own because of the material used in this building's construction... and I doubt we have enough low-yield demolitions left to make a hole in their command center. If we use the high-yield stuff, we'd risk not taking it in tact..." he shook his head. "We'll have to bring them out in groups. We have 50, 2nd platoon has 50... we can bring out 100 people each trip. Three or four trips... just gotta make sure everyone takes their re-breathers off when they're beamed up. We'll escort them away from the inhibitor field just like rehearsed." Once it seemed like everyone had an understanding of what was expected from them, For'kel let 3rd platoon know to expect company shortly, and started breaking the platoon down by squads. At four levels high, each squad would be responsible for clearing a level. Once the levels were clear of Hydrans, they'd start moving prisoners.

"I might have a better way, if you'll hear it" The voice that uttered the words though was not that of any of the marines but rather a somewhat short Hydran that had appeared in the corridor along with four others that looked like soldiers. However their weapons were not trained on the marines as one might expect, they were lowered at a gesture from the shorter Hydran who spoke again once he had the starfleeters attention. "I know you have no reason to trust me but we share the same goals. I am Prince L'sar and if I'm correct
you're Fork'el, conqueror of ch'Rhian.

Fork's rifle had shot up quicker than the time it would have taken to double click a stop-watch. Had this been an actual combat situation though the Hydrans 'did' have the drop, unexpected as it was. No one could say what would have happened, but it was best not to answer that question. When he better analyzed the situation he let his own rifle slowly lower. Had they intended to fire, they would've done so by now. "You know me?"

"Yes, you are known to many of us. Some speak in awe, most in disgust. But this is not the time to speak of stories. I've come to assist you and I think you'd do well to hear my words.", the Prince was doing his best not to sound commanding. He had need of this Stagnorian.

"I have deadlines to meet... why should I spend time listening to you?" The longer they waited, the more likely a counter-attack became after all.

"The Overseer of this facility is a cruel beast. I had planned to arrest him and take command of the facility personally and arrange for an exchange, but your appearance has changed those plans. Your liberation of the prisoners suits my purposes equally so I made sure you could get this far. I've ordered my troops to provide token resistance only but there are some here more loyal to Overseer Grek'lr then myself. I've also adjusted our patrol routes in this sector to ease your escape. Skirt the edge of the Ipsos nebula, should
provide sufficient cover." The Hydran slowly reached for a PADD and tossed it towards the marines. "That contains all the data you'll need to escape. There's something else there as well, but I can't speak of it now, there's no time. You must go before Grek'lr realizes the attack. May the great beast watch over you."

For'kel gave the PADD a quick glance over, before nodding to the Hydran Prince as another religious soldier (if on the wrong side) on the battlefield with whom an understanding could be reached. "And you. Good luck."
===================================================

For'kel didn't trust the Hydran Prince by a long shot, not immediately anyway. However they were able to rather quickly verify all the information the man had provided through the Hydrans' own tapped network. Ilia had been confident that they weren't able to tell that their main computers had been tapped, so Fork allowed himself to presume the information provided was accurate.

"Thral, call in all the engineers we have with us and start wiring this 'entire' building up. I want to vaporize the whole damned thing. The medics will start evaluating the prisoners for identity and primary care before they're moved to the Alpha. PFC Owen and I will start opening up the cells once they're cleared, and we'll all meet back at the ship. Good?"

Nods all around.

Leah and For'kel made their way down the corridor of clamoring POW's. By now word had certainly circulated that a rescue force had arrived, and as if desperately clinching to a dream one didn't want to give up, nobody wanted to be 'forgotten' before the inevitable Hydran return. The medics were doing their best to stabilize everyones condition (and discretely verify their identity) before beaming them away. It was a time consuming process, one that had to be done. Personally, Colonel Arvelion couldn't wait to 'get the hell out
of dodge'. He found himself hoping against hope that one of the cells would have his wife in it, though even if she was among the hundreds here, she was likely on the other side of the prison.

That's when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. "Are you alright, Owen?"

"Dinged my shoulder when the Hydrans showed up turning too fast." She sighed, and likely would have blushed over it's stupidity were they not in the middle of a combat zone. "I think I dislocated it."

"Injury as a direct result of hostile action... congratulations private I think you just qualified for your first purple heart."

"Thank you sir." A sarcastic smirk spread across her pink lips. "Far from the way I envisioned it happening though."

"No doubt." He agreed before holding up his hand. Checking to make sure there were no Hydrans around, he showed Leah the scan from his tricorder.

"Capellan life sign, must be the Captain. Get ready."

Man'darr came out, wearing only a jumpsuit, covered in hydran blood as he dragged the deceased body of a female Hydran by one of its eyestalks. He looked at the colonel, dropping the dead hydran to the deck. "Leave any hydrans for me to kill?" he asked.

Fork didn't pay any attention to the dead Hydran, and passed his rifle over. He'd be better off using the type II in his condition anyway. "Good to see you alive, Captain. Make your way back to the rest of the platoon. They're already beaming up POW's, and we could use someone to organize things back there. Don't worry about the Hydrans, there won't be anything left here once we're done."

Fork watched as Man'darr made his way back towards the Marines, the bloody corpse in hand and sliding across the floor behind him. If one ever wanted to imagine what a caveman looked like after clubbing an animal to death for his dinner, well there it was. He was half surprised the gritty Capellan warrior wasn't gnawing on an eyestalk.

"Marine Alpha to Colonel Arvelion." Sergeant Ilia's hurried words indicated something was up. "The dockyards put out a distress call. We've neutralized the yards, but we've already detected a Hydran battle group on it's way. We've got about thirty minutes."

"We're almost done here. We're falling back to the prison blocks, start beaming us up as soon as you get a lo..."

Then his tricorder went off. He almost jumped when he saw a female life sign, faint as it was, all of a few meters down the hall. Could it be...?

Giving Owen the hand signal to follow him, he made his way down the hall. Seconds passed like hours until they finally came to the open door, the most unnerving sound he'd yet heard piercing the previous quiet of the darkened halls. A feminine voice, butchered nearly beyond recognition by pain and suffering singing 'Alouette' while ruefully trying to ignore what was happening to her. For'kel and Leah backed against the outside wall, the shadows inside suggesting two figures were still standing. He tried his best, but he couldn't get a clear look and the tricorder wouldn't register anything beyond the three life-signs in the room, thanks to those damned Hydran security techniques. The woeful singing finally stopped as one of the figures injected the woman with a vial of 'something'.

It was all the destraction the two Marines needed. As soon as For'kel went in firing, Leah came in and took out the second target. The first was a Hydran scientist, the second a Breen technical advisor. Both were doubled up and dropped like so much liquid from the sky. The woman simply continued muttering incoherently, but there was a quality to her voice he knew. One that he thought he knew intimately.

"Ber...?"

No, it wasn't her. When he finally got to the woman's side it wasn't anyone he knew. The battered, broken body was a dark haired woman he never encountered before. She was bruised, badly cut, and there was a particularly nasty series of devices connected to her... the purposes of which he could only speculate as he could only speculate why she was so close to the male population, and even then he didn't want to. She didn't seem to be cogent of what was happening, murmuring more French words. She closed her eyes, and it seemed like she was going to sleep.

For'kel looked around frantically before gesturing to a control station. "Leah, that's the system control display, cut power to everything." He was betting that much like Federation technology, Hydran technology had a 'fail safe' mode. It was always logically better for equipment to 'not work' rather than malfunction.

Sure enough, as soon as it was powered down, the arm of manifold devices retracted. It was a simple matter of removing the manually placed sensor probles, and getting her the hell out of there. Normally he would have just wrapped her in his jacket, but given that wasn't possible with the hazard suit, he simply wrapped her as best as he could in the cloth-like sterilizing sheet that was covering the metal operating table she had been laid out on for display purposes. He did his best to keep his eyes on hers as he wrapped her up, she'd been through enough without having to bear that kind of embarrassment.

"Who are you?" She quested in a dazed state. She'd stopped shaking, whether it being from a realization she was no longer in danger or a side-effect of whatever inoculation the Hydran had given her, he didn't know.

"Colonel For'kel Arvelion, Starfleet Marines. You're almost home. Can you walk?" The question was answered for him when he saw the condition of her left leg. He tucked his arms under her and, wincing with the effort, picked her up. Light as she was for him to handle normally, after everything it was becoming quite an effort.

She made an incoherent sound, word or moan he didn't know, but once she was up she seemed to settle in against him sleepily. "Thank you for rescuing me, but the princess is in another castle." She added, druggedly wrapping an arm over his shoulder so as not to fall.

"So I've noticed." The Colonel struggled not to sound venomously sarcastic or frustrated, but her sense of humor had hit a little too close home.

"All the other rooms are clear." Leah came back from the console.

"All right, let's get the hell out of here. Take point Owen."

There wasn't anything but silence as they moved back. The few Hydran guards that were left had long since gotten it through their minds that they wouldn't be beating the Marines today, and that it would be better to live and try tomorrow than to be yet another KIA. They would take their time to regroup before trying a counter attack...

"Colonel, we spotted Hydran Infantry closing from the North, I think it's time to fall back!"

"Beam out as soon as you can Ward, we're done here." For'kel called back as he and Owen made it back to the central block.

"You know you're going to have to put her down eventually, right Colonel."

"Shut it, Reyes. All Marines fall back to extraction points. Thral, as soon as we're clear and they reoccupy the position..."

The Tellerite demolitions specialist nodded as the final groups disappeared in transporter sparkles. The massive, cold prison complex was replaced by the alien confines of their captured ship, with a rudimentary medical facility established on the flight deck. For'kel raced to the first available cot and let down the woman in his arms as gently as possible. He pulled the mask off his face and tapped his combadge. "Arvellion to Ilia, get us the hell out of here Sergeant. Skirt the Ipsos nebula on our escape route, I'll explain later."

"Ka-boom!" One of the Marines shouted in admiration of Thral and the Engineers' demo job on the Hydran complex. So large and violent the explosion was, that it was visible from space. The only thing that would be left of the entire complex was a smoking crater, and those Hydran body parts lucky enough to have been severed by the force of the explosion and rain down afterwards rather than outright incinerated.

"Old Soldiers Don't Die..."

By

Benedict "Max" Maxwell, APP
PO2, NCOIC EMRT
USS Galaxy

The Ace Bar, Lower East Side, Manhattan, North America, Earth...2414

The trio sat around the dilapidated booth heads hung low. One was a Rear-Admiral, his slicked back gray hair a tell-tale of who wore such a fine coiffe. The second one was a woman in civilian clothes, who didn't fit the current establishment anymore than the finely coiffed Admiral did.

The third member, however looked like an old hand, with a leather jacket (authentic), ripped denim jeans, and his head shaved clean while his beard was bleach blonde. He took a swig out of his PBR and regarded the two in front of him.

"You know, it's fucking with people like you that got Roger killed, and me in this mess I'm in now." The 'Neo-Punker' took another swig of his beer and took a drag of his Djarum clove cigarette. The woman absently swatted at the waves of thick whitish-blue smoke before she spoke.

"It's fucking with people like us, as you so eloquently put it, Mr. Maxwell, that has enabled the Federation as a whole to avert many threats over a fifteen year span. Remember, you traded the 'teal' for the 'black'. No one made that decision for you."

Yeah, no one but me, the former Medic turned Intelligence Operative thought bitterly. To the two present, he offered no further rebuke or remark. He simply spared an equal unwelcome stare to his 'guests'. Then he glanced at the bouncer by the door. It was the signal that the meeting would be over soon, and the two 'guests' may need to be 'guided' to the exit.

"I've got a bar to run," Mr. Maxwell finally said. He already knew why they were there. He could read that much as they did broadcast their intent. What he wanted to know was why him. He was in his 60's. His legs were now fully synthetic after a massive EMP took out the implants that were installed in 2383 to replace the originals. His best friend Roger Vernikoff was killed during an intelligence mission about twenty years ago into an organized crime syndicate. And while he was still a member of Starfleet, he decided almost a year ago to take terminal leave until he was ready to retire...in three more months.

Apparently, those who held the purse strings had other ideas.

"Max," Admiral Ascencion finally spoke up. "Roger was a very dear friend of mine as well. And do not forget that I am the one that asked him to leave Medical and transfer into Intelligence...much as you did, but under different circumstances-"

"Circumstances were that you asked and he did you a favor," Maxwell blasted back. "I became Bental's bitch. I'm just glad he's dead now. I sleep easier knowing that he's worm bait." He nodded to the bouncer at the door. As far as Maxwell was concerned, the meeting was over. He didn't even want to know why anymore. He just wanted them gone. The problem was, the bouncer was gone. Max turned his attention to the woman who was sitting in front of him, who wore a small knowing smile.

"So will you listen to our offer now, Mr. Maxwell," she asked.

"Not like I really have a choice, now do I?" Max lit another cigarette. He wondered if he would have a chance to hang out with his superstar son Connor before he went out on whatever deathmission he was being pimped out for this time.

"What Lies Within: Part 1"

Sonia An'quinsos
And
Adrian An'quinsos

*2261: Sector Unknown*

There was a soft, though distinct violet flash that marked the
Orioni't'hazi's entry into normal space. However the flash would
easily have been easily missed, if not drowned out by the vast expanse
of nebula looming ominously before them. The ship's sensors were
already making through sweeps of the area, processing the information,
translating, and relaying it through a holographic imaging system in
another room aboard the ship for even further analysis. Through it one
could see vast clouds, towering before them like mountains seem to
ascend into forever, their shapes made known by the stellar nurseries
that dwelled within. And gazing at the image with a distinct,
resonating thoughtfulness was someone who could have been mistaken for
a boy of fourteen, and yet those deep blue eyes hinted at something
far more than what he appeared. He was dressed simply in black
trousers and a long-sleeved dark blue shirt looked to be more in
contemplation than actual studying of the readouts before him.

"Find anything interesting?"

The sound of her voice hadn't caught him off guard; his ears twitched
slightly as his head slowly turned to face his much older and equally
taller sibling. She was standing in observation at the doorway,
emerald irises gazing upon the three-dimensional depiction of the
nebula within the confines of the holographic simulator. Her eyes
narrowed slightly, tracing real-time patterns and distortions, and
then glancing back over at her brother. Audrian met her gaze directly
and was unfazed. There were people back on their homeworld who were a
little intimidated by her; the height, demeanor, and physical prowess
could make anyone think twice. But this wasn't some exotic Amazon from
the farthest reaches of space, this was his sister and far as he was
concerned she could be as commanding as she liked but the El-Aurian
woman was still his sister.

"It still has a lot of life in her yet…" He trailed off, and then
tilted his head pensively. "Definitely violent in some places and in
others just… quiet…" The young El-Aurian looked back at his sister
curiously. "Why are we here exactly Sonriell?"

"Twofold reasons actually Aud'rhian," She stepped into the room, and
tapped a few things into the console. "You expressed an interest in
another excursion away from the Homeworld and two…" The image began to
shrink, reform, and then show a different part of the nebula. Compared
to the brighter, more beautiful regions, it looked wholly darker and
uninviting. "There's an anomaly I've recently discovered that I
thought you'd might like to help me unravel."

Walking over to the console panel he gazed intently at the sensor
readings and frowned slight. "There's too much background radiation at
the moment, but the sensors indicate the anomaly to be artificial,
massive, and localized to that specific location." He pointed to the
darkest portion of the nebula that was currently displayed. "Are we
going in to check it out?"

Sonra nodded, turning to leave the room. "We wouldn't be here otherwise."

"With as long as you've had the Orioni't'hazi, I'm a little surprised
you hadn't run into this sooner."

"Space is a big place!" She professed, looking back at him. "There are
still places in this Galaxy; stars, planets, moons, nebulae, and races
that I have yet to encounter."

"Is the nebula in the Archives?"

"Yes… and no." She stepped onto the small 'bridge' and began inputting
coordinates. "After I initially encountered the Nebula, I returned to
the Homeworld to do a preliminary investigation and found it unlisted
in any general searches. I continued to narrow parameters, adding the
coordinates and even the sensor data I gathered and hit a wall."

"It was classified." Aud'rhian replied; for him that was the obvious reason.

She nodded. "So, I did a retrograde search, looking for any iota of
information directly or indirectly pertaining to this area of space
and all I could find were ghost stories about old relics, ancient
curses, and the dead walking among the living. They were stories told
by other races that had happened by this sector of space which made me
highly curious and so…"

"You hacked into the archives?"

"I was sorely tempted to do it, and would have succeeded, but I
figured another trip was in order." Sonriell finished inputting what
she needed and turned to her brother with a mischievous gleam.
"Besides if I really wanted to get into the archives, I would have
'borrowed' our father's security access codes."

Moving at a quarter impulse the small ship maneuvered through the
nebula, leaving brighter, more violent regions behind for places where
stars ceased forming ages ago. Almost nearing their destination,
Audrian began to feel an unnerving sense of dread; ghost stories were
for parents who scared their children into being good. And yet, the
young El-Aurian understood the reasons for those stories in question.
This part of the nebula was dead; the only light that infused the dust
with any kind of glow was the product of radiation; excited atoms
striking bored ones to cause a decisive, though faint light to wash
upon the ship as it stood on the precipice between the known and the
unknown. His eyes gazed toward the sensor readouts and still there
seemed to be a barrier. However, what he could tell was that it was
still artificial, very massive, and metallic…

"Sonriell these sensor readings…" He looked up as the ship began to
move into the cloud under an eighth impulse power.

"I'm seeing it too and adjusting coordinates as needed."

He nodded looking back up at the view screen and seeing nothing but
dust. And of course there were colors in that dust; deep maroons,
muddy browns, and as many shades of black as you could name scattered
throughout the area. Only a few minutes into the cloud and they still
hadn't reached their destination, not that either of them were
impatient. However, patience could only go so far and the ship sped to
a quarter impulse. A few thousand kilometers soon turned into ten
thousand, twenty thousand, and then (after not bothering to count for
a little while,) fifty thousand kilometers. Sensors chirped
intermittently throughout all of this, scanning the region ahead of
them and slowly formulating a representation of what was ahead.
Sonriell frowned slightly; either background radiation was still
interfering with sensor arrays or whatever ahead didn't want to be
found… or didn't need to be at any rate…

"It's coming into… view…"

Ship began to slow until it reached their destination; the
Orioni't'hazi had left the dust behind and found itself within an
enormous pocket beholding something equally enormous. The one hundred
and forty meter long ship looked like a speck amidst something that
was vast in appearance as to be a monster. It looked, for lack of a
better description to be an dark grayish ocean liner (minus the smoke
stacks,) sitting dead in space. Sensors were set to maximum, as the
two El-Aurians attempted to make sense of it all. While Aud'rhian
approached the screen looking it up and down, the Sonriell's eyes lit
up slightly as she noted the hull configuration, signature, and other
tale-telling things about the ship.

"It was in a battle; the outer hull is riddled with scars from
weapon's fire. However, hull integrity is uncompromised. It's as
though this ship was made to withstand extreme punishment."

"That ship was made to last for a very long time." He mused aloud. "I
can see why there were so many stories; this ship has a sort of
haunting aesthetic to it." Audrian smiled in thought continuing to
look on.

"Yes and a sporadic dampening field." She added gazing intently at the
sensor readouts. "That's why the sensor array was having trouble
locking onto it." She scratched her chin and continued. "Or rather a
Dampening Array; sensors are detecting a series a series of nodes
scattered in a triaxial pattern with the generator located deep within
the ship. Under optimal efficiency this ship would have been perfectly
hidden but now…" She tapped a few buttons and looked satisfied. "This
shouldn't take too long by the looks of it."

"What shouldn't take too long?" Audrian slowly turned around, brow
raised. "Wait, you're not thinking of going aboard are you?"

"Maybe," Sonra looked up at him, eyes full of a distinct gleam.
"You're not scared are you Aud'rhian? What about that haunting
aesthetic you commented about"

"Scared, me?" He returned indignantly; it might have sounded
magnitudes more serious if his voice hadn't been two octaves above its
current level. "There isn't-" Aud'rhian paused and took a deep breath
before puberty decide to start all over again. "I'm not scared in the
least. As long as we get in there and do what we need to do and get
out, it's fine by me."

"I've got environmental suits in the hold." She replied, smirking.
"I've located a docking bay and plotting course as we speak."

"Great…" He trailed off and muttered before the doors closed. "And I
was referring to the aesthetics on the outside… daft women…"

As suspected the docking bay did respond to commands and with her
delight, the El-Aurian female landed it safely, closed the bay, and
then Sonriell along with Aud'rhian stepped out and, except for the
Orioni't'hazi, found the area devoid of anything except for dust. With
flashlights and sensor equipment, the pair made it to a functioning
access terminal where they were able to download a schematic of the
ship and find the shortest path to their destination. Overall
Aud'rhian had to admit it wasn't as bad as he thought it could be, in
fact, he admitted to himself, this was actually kind of fun. Though in
his opinion they could have done with a bit more lighting, besides the
luminescence mounted on his wrist, but it wasn't half bad. Now all he
had to do was shut off the feeling that he was being watched. His
sister appeared totally at ease; then again with all the stories she's
told him, he wasn't surprised. This was probably a walk in the park
for-

"What was that?"

"You're imagination," She replied then looked up. "Combined with the
ship creaking- age will do that to you."

"I'm sure out of the two of us here you'd 'definitely' know better
than that." He stressed with a smirk.

"Careful, you might get stuck here because someone forgot you on the way out."

"And what will you tell mom and dad?"

"Hirogen attack, power conduit overload, transporter malfunction- oh,
I'm sure I can think up a million ways to-"

"Shhhh…"

A disruptor gun came to both thier hands; despite appearances he was
more than old enough to handle and fire a simple disruptor pistol. The
weapons whined faintly to life as the barrel shifted angles. While the
younger El-Aurian had a growing expression of trepidation on his face,
the older El-Aurian looked ready for a fight. The pair began backing
up slowly, casting a light upon the corridor. They weren't very far
from the generator and all that needed to be done was to get there.
The backing up increased as they heard a strange rattling sound, along
with distinctive pounding, and what sounded like footsteps. Sonriell
kept her little brother behind her up until they came to an access
panel. The woman frowned as the entry into the room was encrypted and
she was starting to understand why. Her finger began to fly across the
panel in an attempt to break that code, enhanced further by the
scanning device on her wrist. As the sounds drew closer her eyes
skipped to her brother who appeared to be taking point in front of
her, seemingly calm and ready to obliterate anything that might come
their way. After a minute of bickering with the computer, the woman
slammed her fist against the door, and suddenly her eyes lit up.

"I'm about to try something else… just don't tell dad."

"Trying something else, dad isn't in the know, got it."

The woman didn't even bother looking back at her little brother.
Instead she did what she should have done in the first place, smiled
with relief, and yanked Aud'rhian into the room, closing the door
almost instantly after. The pair breathed a sigh of relief and
listened at the door for anything else. What they got was a cold,
definitive silence- well, along with what sounded like the ship
experiencing minor creaks. The El-Aurians looked at each other looked
at one another in complete disbelief, and then turned and headed for
the generator and got to work. The first thing was obvious: run a
complete diagnostic and locate the source of the problem. Step two was
to fix or replace any damaged circuitry found within the generator.
Step three was to bring it back online, with step four being the
easiest things of all- to leave. To their credit the pair didn't waste
time; Sonra ran the diagnostics while Aud'rhian assisted in the
repairs, meanwhile keeping an eye on the doors as he didn't believe
that silence for a moment.

"Activating Dampening Field Array… and it's back up to full power.
That should do for a few centuries I should think: technology built to
last."

"Yeah, well I wonder what tried to interfere with it then. I took a
few scans while you were finishing the repairs on the generator. The
power distribution conduits are far too small for anyone to crawl
through. There are no ventilation shafts, ducts, or hatchways of any
sort. The only way in and out of this room is through that door, which
like the rest of this room appears significantly more reinforced than
the rest of the ship."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that was the only way out." She
frowned checking her scanner. "Sensors are detecting movement in the
cooridor, lots of it… heading this way."

"Species?" He asked, as his weapon whined to life.

"I can't tell… there's too much flux." She ran towards the doors and
began to input a long series of alphanumerics into the panel as fast
as her fingers could fly. Unfortunately the door began to open and the
El-Aurian glimpsed what looked to be claws reaching out to her…

"Get back!"

In all his forty six years, it was the fiercest she ever heard him
sound. A deep, greenish pulse flew past her, followed by several more
frying the owner of that clawed hand along with the owners of several
other clawed hands. The barrage didn't seem to let up until the door
finally closed and the woman took a step back, breathing heavily as
she heard the sound of pounding began on the door.

"They looked like ghosts," Aud'rhian spoke up, adrenaline continuing
to course wildly through his body. "There screams… they sounded like
rage, loneliness, hatred, sadness, and death- they wouldn't stop-"

"Aud'rhian listen to me." She placed a hand on his shoulders and
looked him in the eyes. "Set your disruptor to its lowest setting.
We're going to fuse the door shut, do you understand?"

He blinked a moment as if in a distant dream and then nodded back at
his sister. Doing what was asked of him they set to fusing the door
permanently or at least as permanently shut as possible. She ran over
to a console and began inputting a series of sequences and commands
and smiled. Thankfully the Orioni't'hazi was docked within the ship or
else they'd really be screwed. She inputted the last of her commands;
it wouldn't be perfect but they would be within the docking bay.
Setting up one other thing, she activated the transporters and the
pair vanished in a glow of lights and sparkles. After they left, the
second thing activated, erasing their destination so that anyone
trying to break in would be unable to do so. As soon as they fully
materialized Sonriell and Audrian sprinted back toward the El-Aurian's
ship, weapons at the ready in case something showed up like-

"Audrian-"

*2385: Outside of San Francisco, Earth*

There was an unexpected shattering of glass; something that was once a
vase went flying across the room and transformed into a thousand
prisms. This was proceeded by a series of curses spoken in fifteen
distinct languages, a few of which were Spanish, Klingon, Bolian,
Ferengi, Naussicaan, several unknown from the Beta and Delta
Quadrants, and one specifically in the language of the speaker in
question. That particular language in question was El-Aurian, one the
average humanoid didn't believe contained any form of curses. This was
understandable as the language intricate and complex tongue possessed
a quasi-musical tonality, moving from one word to the next in a
smooth, flowing, ethereal fashion. However, truth be known the
language had a lot of interesting curses, swear words, color metaphors
and complex slurs that would surprise a Klingon and make a marine
flush with embarrassment. Unfortunately it had the habit of sounding
like beautiful poetry- very demented- but beautiful nonetheless.

"Lights!" She practically yelled in her own bedroom. Throwing open the
covers revealed an ornery-looking woman in a dark blue nightgown that
began stalk towards her desk to where the origin of the beeping lay
shining brightly on a console. "Who in the Nine Hells…"

"Fleet Admiral An'quinsos." Came the formal greeting and a double
blink. "This is Captain Michael Strider of the USS Stormwarden, I
trust all is well this evening?"

Sonia's eyes narrowed slightly, not because of the person but because
of the time of day. "Captain Strider; yes, I'm trying to hold down
things on the home front. Now, for your sake, I hope this isn't a
casual call?

"No ma'am," He replied quickly and began relaying information to her.
A series of images were brought up on another display panel and were
carefully studied. It appeared to be a binary system complete with
twelve planets, two asteroid fields and a host of moons. "A few hours
ago we were making a survey of that system where we discovered a
large, artificial structure." Sonia brought up the image and her face
softened into a rather unreadable expression. "Internal scans were
reflected, however, we were able to do a complete analysis of the
hull. We ran the signature against every known configuration in the
Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Our search had to be narrowed to uncommon
and finally rare signatures before we found our match. We double
checked everything and finally determined it to be-"

"Yes… El-Aurian." She finished and continued. "Has anyone else been notified?"

"Only you ma'am." He affirmed. "What are you orders?"

The woman stood up, hands in a contemplative gesture. She went back to
the console, inputting in a few figures and nodded quietly to herself.
Then, she did another search and smiled slightly. "Meet me on Deep
Space Four, best possible speed. I'll be heading off world in an
hour."

"Right away ma'am."

"And Captain, this goes no further, got it?"

"Yes ma'am Strider out."

She pursed her lips, contemplating what to do as she changed clothes
and began packing. There was also the need for someone who knew the
insides of a ship like that and she knew just such a person…

"Survival Skills"

Cmdr. Arel Smith, apc
& special guests :)

***

USS Galaxy
Arel Smith's quarters

Arel stared at the label blankly.

'Avoid death'

Of course you should avoid death; that was a simple survival skill.
She didn't see why the hover bike maker felt the need to label it,
unless they thought that she was such a horrible parent that her son
could only learn this by reading a gorram sticker.

Arel told herself to be rational, that the manufacturers weren't
thinking that she was a bad mother, couldn't possibly know that she
had nearly forgotten to buy her son a birthday present, which would
now arrive late, but she'd never been a very rational person. The
label was mocking her and therefore must die.

The only thing that kept the hover bike from certain death was that
Korvin wanted one. It was bad enough that she couldn't be there for
his day; Arel at least could give him the one present he had asked
for.

Arel cursed loudly, pushed her Korvin's present into the corner, and
stomped off to the bedroom. She stripped, threw on her new over-sized
shirt ('You made Kahless cry ... now you die .... painfully), and then
threw herself down on the bed with a huff.

A few hours later, Arel jolted awake. She thought she had heard ...

She listened for a few minutes but heard nothing. Still, the room
suddenly felt hot and oppressive. Her heartbeat was pounding in her
chest like it was trying to break free from her rib cage.

Arel kicked off her blankets and reached for Feck'lar before
remembering that she didn't need protection from a stuffed cat and
that her childhood toy had been blown up along with everything on
board the Carthage anyway. She scowled and started to make a mental
note to subtly bitch to Jaal about all her lost possessions when she
heard the noise again.

She sat up quickly, simultaneously grabbing the knife hidden under her
pillow, and listened hard. She heard it again.

"QI'yaH!," Arel yelled and jumped out of bed.

She strode into the other room and, sure enough, there was a sickening
little ball of fur sitting on her coffee table. Purring.

"Blech," She shuddered, gripping the knife tightly. "Disgusting."

It was no secret that Arel detested tribbles. Every couple of years
whatever ship she was on at the time seemed to come down with an
infestation and since some complete pthak had pronounced that tribbles
were sentient, she wasn't allowed to kill any of them.

There were some days when she longed for Qo'Nos.

She looked around the room and found it fairly sparse, except for all
the mounted weapons. The bedroom had a bookcase with a row of books.
Nothing to really trap the damn tribble with. She didn't really want
to call for help; it would have been a shame to kill the person who
was coming to the rescue for laughing at her.

Then again, some people were harder to kill than others.

****

"Colonel! Incoming for you on the blue-line!" The Sergeant had to yell
loud enough to be heard over the ongoing sortie squads lifting off
from the deck, but after hanging the sub-com up sideways above the
squawk box and leaning out the bulkhead panel and cupping his hands
around his mouth to repeat the call, his intended recipient cocked his
head a notch to the right and waved him down.

"Fresco, you know the deal. Give the Marines their covering fire as
much as you can. We'll get you back-up as soon as refuel and
reservicing is done on the next squad. Do your best and come back in
mostly one piece." The taller of the two males grasped the smaller's
shoulders and squeezed gently, his face an awkward and wan smile as
one who knew the odds weren't good. The campaign wasn't going well,
and they'd lost a lot of good men and women.

After Fresco saluted and left to gather his remaining wing on another
sortie, the Colonel tucked his own helmet under his left arm and
turned to face the Tech Sergeant.

"Who is it and what the frack do they want?" The blueline was a
secondary two-way subspace transmission line to the outside galaxy.
Connected through subspace relay beacons between him and the nearest
Starbase, it was an encrypted code-algorithm meant for generic
tactical updates. Generally, those came in regulated packets, but one
wasn't due for at least another twenty minutes. It wasn't meant for chit-chat.

"Switchboard says it's your wife, sir."

James Mitchell raised an eyebrow just mere seconds before he took
several steps forward and threw his helmet at the Sergeant.

"Get out." And he slammed the office door closed on his bewildered
look, finger up about to point out something most likely meaningless
to the Bajoran. Most things these idiots said were.

He harrumphed at his recently reorganized desk, mentally filing away a
future action that involved taking his sergeant by the collar and
using him as a dishrag on the bomber oil pits. That should scare him
off cleaning anything without his express permission again.

Hesitant, he snatched the sub-com unit off the 'box, and unsure,
double-taking as he tried to think of something, he gave up.

"What do you want, Arel?"

"Unpredictable Hand of Fate"
2nd Lt Cora Dobryin

***
Cora's Quarters, USS Galaxy

***

Cora suddenly awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of her computer
beeping. Messages that arrived at hour odd of the night were never good.
Quickly she pulled herself out of bed ot see what it was about. The other
thing that got her attention is the message happened to be encrypted and
required a security code to access it.

When the face of one of her old Intel counterparts appeared, Cora was even
more shocked, ³I hope this message finds you well Cora. The fact that I¹m
contacting you now means a day has come that I never hoped to see, because
I¹d hoped that the truth would stay hidden. However even we who are the
master at keeping secrets and manipulating information do not always
succeed.²

There was a long pause before Alec Taban continued, ³I don¹t really want to
give you this message over subspace. However I know you¹re current
assignment is just as unpredictable as previous ones. Expect a package
shortly. You¹ll know how to deal with it from there. You were trained well
Cora. All I can say is good luck and I¹m sorry.²

³You¹re a survivor I know that much and you¹ll hear from me again soon,²
just as quick as Taban appeared his message ended. Though it left Cora
wondering what would be next. She still had several hours before her duty
shift was due to start; however, Cora also knew that she wouldn¹t be able to
get back to sleep after that message. It left her pondering her past and her
future. Something in Alec¹s tone indicated things were about to change
drastically for Dobryin.

Friends and colleagues had been trying to spare her the added stress and
consequences of something. At this point Cora just didn¹t know what yet that
one message had initiated the process of awakening some long dormant
memories, ones that had been hidden so deep they could almost be considered
a void in her memory.

Silence lingered in Cora's quarters as she was lost in thought. The hand of
Fatw was always unpredictable.

"Hapy Motders Day"

Ophelia Zamora
JAG

Location: Personal Quarters

---------------------------
She was the first to admit that she was driving herself crazy with the need to feel her son wrap his arms around her. It was quickly turning into an obsession, not unlike the time that she thought she might have been first pregnant with Logan. Smiling softly as she pulled out his baby book, she ran her right hand along the delicate stitching of the blue rocking horse on the lighter blue fabric that covered the outside of the book. Her mother had stitched it by hand for them. They were so happy back then, well, at least one of them was. Alex could have cared less about his son, something that haunted her daily to this day still.

Opening the first page, it was sparsely decorated except for the small test strip with the plus sign. It had long since faded with time, however the thin blue lines still convinced her that even back then, she was indeed pregnant with her delightful little boy. The memories flooded back, the good and the bad..........

-------------------------Almost 7 years ago---------------------------

Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at the test. The plus stared back at her, mocking her with information she kinda already knew but couldn't admit outright just yet. Part of her wanted to yell with joy, part of her wanted to cringe with terror. Her life, their life would change permanently.

"Well?" His head peeked around the corner and instantly he could tell. "DId I knock ya up?"

Her lips pursed slightly in mild frustration at her husband. "I am, according to this source, pregnant."

"Jeez Lia, why do you have to sound like such a god damned lawyer all the time?.....a simple yes or no would have sufficed. Ya know us security types aint' as intelligent as your group of highly educated doctors of law."

As much as she wanted to say, "That's painfully obvious", she had to keep in mind that she had a life inside her, and did not want to sacrifice it by a quick kick to the stomach over an ill thought of response. "Sorry..." She whispered.

He left the room, permitting her a smidgen of peace in her turbulent life. "He'd be better as a memory" She thought out loud as she stood and exited the bathroom.

---------------------Present Day----------------------

The small package rested on the end table as her eyes drifted over to it. It had been given to her this morning, but remained unopened as her focus had been on the baby book. Placing the book down beside her, Ophelia stretched over to get the small box.

It was brown, with no return address but was clearly labeled for her. Unwrapping it had taken but a moment and with a small smile, she lifted the first thing. It was a piece of plain white paper that looked someone defeated with various creases. Turning it over, her smile grew a little wider as she read the letter that was handwritten with shaky penmanship in blue crayon.

Mommie. Hi it is Logan. I wented to wiss you a hapy Motders day! I mad stuf for you. Hope you lick it. Luv Logan

Zamora's smile plastered itself on her mouth as she hugged the letter close to her. He was writing! When did that happen? A wave of sadness washed over her, but it was mixed with joy as she realized how much he had accomplished in the time he was with her mother. Placing the letter on her lap, she peeked into the box and drew out the last item.

It was a foam heart that held a picture. And, the picture was of Logan. She giggled, realized that it was his infamous fake overly cheesy grin that he perfected when ever a digital recorder was around. His dark eyebrows were even overly arched, making his appearance almost cartoonish in nature. Man, that boy did try....no one could say he did not.

She felt happy for the first time in a while. Even though she did miss him terribly, she suddenly had an overwhelming sense of peace about the whole situation. Things would work out.....they had to.

"Holodeck Philosophizing"

Cmdr. Jaal Jaxom
Strategic Operations Officer

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara
Acting CO

*****
Holodeck 3

When the computer had told her that Commander Jaxom was on the
Holodeck, Iniara had almost decided to let the matter wait until his
next duty shift rolled around. All too often downtime was interrupted
by any of a number of external forces, so the XO tried as hard as she
could to not become one of those forces.

But after nearly half an hour trying to ignore the padd sitting
silently on the corner of her desk, Iniara decided she'd had enough.
So, grabbing said padd she strode out of her quarters and made a
beeline for Holodeck Three. So much for trying to stay out of his
personal time. She just hoped Jaal would forgive the intrusion.

The holodeck wasn't locked; a sign that relieved Iniara somewhat,
since if he really hadn't wanted to be disturbed, he would have locked
the doors. She stepped through the blast doors...

...and immediately came face to face with... sand, and lots of it...
and in the distance were waves crashing gently along the shore while
the sun, low in the sky, reflected off the water lazily.

Off in the distance a lone figure was standing and simply watching the
sun set on a horizon of purple water. The color of the water
immediately told Iniara she was on Trill.

For a split second Iniara thought about turning around and leaving;
the Commander had obviously come here to relax, and she didn't want to
disturb that relaxation with talk of work. But the scenery was nice;
certainly a lot nicer than the last time she'd been on Trill, back
when the USS Akira had nearly destroyed the planet's capital.
Beginning to make her way towards the shore, she wondered if Jaal
would mind her spending a few minutes relaxing as well.

"Evening, Commander," she began once she was close enough for him to
hear her over the sound of the waves and the wind. "I hope I'm not
interrupting."

Jaal looked up from his uniform to see who was interrupting him. A
small smile crept to his lips when he saw it was Iniara. "Not at all
'Commander. How's life in the big chair?"

"It's certainly interesting," she replied with a small smile. "Though
it'll be a bit of a relief once I'm back in my own chair, I suppose."

"Any new word on the Captain's condition?" he asked.

"Not much, I'm afraid. Well, that's not entirely true; Dr. Burton has
called in a specialist to assist her with the surgery to repair the
Captain's spine. At the moment they're still doing simulations, but
their chances of success seem to be increasing slowly but surely. But
if the procedure works, he'll still be in for a long recovery period."

Jaal nodded, "That's good to hear... 'and' it could mean you'll be in
charge for the foreseeable future." He tilted his head to right and
scrutinized her reaction. He had been in her exact position twice
while on the Miranda: once during the joint mission to the Breen
homeworld when Captain Elaithin was held hostage and again when
Captain Summers was killed in their first meeting of a starbeast over
Romulus. "It might be some time before you're back in your own chair.
I'd say for the time being, the center chair is yours."

Iniara did her best not to grimace, but wasn't entirely successful.
She looked back at him before commenting, "I suppose it's good that
I'm growing accustomed to the position, though I don't think I'll get
totally *used* to it for a very long time." She paused, fidgeting
with the padd in her hands. "You've been in this situation before,
haven't you? I don't suppose you have any helpful advice to pass on."

"Well," Jaal began trying to sound encouraging, "Don't let them see
you sweat. Make sure people have plenty to do to keep their minds on
their work. Don't change the routine, it'll help keep the crew
grounded." He shrugged, "Aside from that it's business as usual but
with more admin work."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that. "That's one thing I did
notice. I think my yeoman may be more anxious for me to return to my
own position than I am; nowadays he's constantly swimming in a sea of
padds. I mean, the job is a lot of work, but I'd be lying if I said
it wasn't a good experience. Even when it scares me to death."

"If you need anything, Iniara, don't hesitate to ask," he told her
earnestly, "You know I've done this before. You know I'll help out any
way I can."

"Thanks; I really appreciate that," she replied, looking back out at
the holographic ocean. Briefly she fidgeted with the padd again,
tapping a knuckle against its hard case, before continuing
tentatively, "Sometimes... Sometimes I have trouble asking for help,
or even realizing that I need it in the first place. So, ah, if you
see that happening and think you can help, please, don't be afraid to
force yourself on me."

Jaal's head twitched back and forth and his eyebrows raised in
surprise. One corner of his mouth twisted upward as the unspoken
"REALLY NOW?" hung itself the air.

Iniara's mouth clacked shut suddenly, a realization dawning on her as
her last words echoed in her head. "Um, I mean..." Her face flushed
red as her mind dutifully recalled the true meaning of that phrase in
Standard. Over a decade speaking the language, she thought with a
groan, and she still had yet to fully master it. In a soft voice she
quickly added, "That's...um, that's not what I meant to say."

Jaal's expression soften to a deep smile, "Oh, I KNOW." He looked back
out at the water, still smiling, while thinking now would be a great
time to change the subject despite the myriad of possible responses
rifling through his mind. "So... what brings you here with that PADD
you've been fidgeting with?"

"Oh...yeah, that." Iniara looked down at the padd, praying that her
cheeks would hurry up and stop burning. "It's the reports from your
away mission to the Hydran vessel; I had a couple questions about what
happened. But...we can talk about it later if you prefer. As curious
as I am about what went on out there, now I'm debating whether or not
I want to ruin this lovely scenery with work talk."

"It's up to you," Jaal told her while still looking out to sea, "but
there's nothing that will ruin this for me." Now he looked at her
again as the last vestiges of sun were about to disappear below the
horizon. "We can stay here... or go somewhere else if you want," he
shrugged, "I'm okay either way."

"Okay. Well..." She looked at the sunset, then back at the padd,
then at the sunset once more. "You know, forget it," she said
quietly, as if too loud a voice would ruin the scene unfolding before
them. A half smile played across her lips as she flipped the padd over
and slid it up the back of her uniform jacket, then added, "Work can
wait."

Jaal smiled at the ocean but stayed silent for the time being. He
remembered the small breaks when he managed to take when he was in
charge of the Miranda were few and far between... and necessary.

Several long moments passed as the pair stood silent, watching as the
sun slowly descended below the horizon, its brilliant rays casting a
warm amber glow on the purplish ocean. Once the glow had mellowed,
leaving behind nothing more than a thin golden line on the horizon,
Iniara finally broke the silence. "Wow," she breathed. "That was
spectacular."

"Yeah," was all the Trill said. The scene still awed him everytime he
witnessed it whether at home or on the holodeck.

"You know, the last time we were on a holodeck, we ended up on a
beach," she told him. "I guess this is a sort of special place for
you?"

Jaal cast a sideways glance at Iniara, "You could say that."

She nodded slowly, then asked, "Did you grow up near the water?"

Still watching the water he explained, "The family vineyard is about
two kilometers from the Sea of Trill... the water has always been a
part of our life. My brother, sister, and I can swim like fish. I've
always loved the calming essence of the water. I go back as often as I
can... though I haven't had a chance in over two years now." He sighed
deeply, "Hopefully I'll get back soon though." He didn't sound
convinced it was going to happen.

And in fact, that was exactly what Iniara picked up on, the
combination of his tone of voice, body language, and what little
emotion she could sense from him causing her lips to automatically
form the question even before she consciously realized what sounds
were coming out of her mouth. "You...don't seem very convinced of
that."

"It's hard to stay convinced of anything with a war going on," he
replied plainly.

Jaal finally turned to face her and went on, "I remember feeling the
same way during the Dominion War... only then I was younger...
possibly stupider," a small grin formed on his lips but quickly
disappeared, "...anyway, it's hard for me to think about the future
not knowing if it's going to happen or not."

"Well, technically, the future will always happen, whether we're
around to see it or not." She made a face, then added, "Sorry, I know
that's a bit morbid, but..." Her voice trailing off Iniara sighed,
the air whistling softly through her teeth.

Despite the grave nature the conversation took, Jaal's eyebrow
amusedly rose a bit, "But?..."

"Hmmm..." Her expression brightened suddenly, leaving Jaal wondering
just what was going on in her brain. "I have an idea." She bent
down, going for the clasps on her boots. Pulling them open she yanked
off boots, then socks, then rolled up her pant legs nearly to her
knees. She straightened and pulled the padd out of her jacket,
letting it fall to the ground before grinning at Jaal. "I know it's
only holo-sand and holo-water, but it's better than nothing," she told
him. And then, she trotted off into the frothy surf.

One second later, another pair of boots and socks joined Iniara's in the sand.

When Jaal caught up to her he made sure to playfully splash a good
amount of water in her direction.

"Hey!" Iniara threw her arms up in a protective, though mostly
pointless, gesture. While it wasn't that much water, relatively
speaking, she could still feel it beginning to soak into the cloth of
her uniform. "No fair!" she retorted as she began to slog through the
wet sand and surf, trying to get away from him. The water sloshed
against her knees, soaking her pant legs, but that didn't matter so
long as Jaal took the bait and followed her. And from the sound of
it, he was. He was probably wondering what she was up to, but at
least he had taken the bait.

An evil grin spread across her face as she stopped, turned back
towards Jaal. Once he was within range she leaned sideways, slicing
an arm into the knee-deep water and sending a wave of it flying at
him.

Jaal attempted to dive out of the way. Failing, he found himself
rather wet from Iniara splashing him.

"Got you!" she cried out, clapping her hands together.

Jaal looked down at his now wet uniform. "Yeah, yeah you did." He
glanced out to sea with a quick motion of his eyes. He knew what was
going to happen next by the way the water moved. A wave washed up on
shore catching his companion wetting her uniform from the waist down.
(Of course, being the programmer of this particular holographic
environment didn't hurt either.)

"Looks like you got it too," Jaal laughed out loud.

Grinning, Iniara looked down at herself, noting where the black of her
uniform looked a little darker than normal. "I guess I did!" she
replied with a laugh. Looking back up at Jaal, she held her arms out
to the side then leaned back, falling into the surf with a loud
splash.

Naturally, when she emerged the XO was completely soaked, her normally
well-styled hair slicked back and plastered against her head, her
waterlogged uniform dripping excess water back into the ocean. "And
now it doesn't matter!" she told Jaal, moving slowly back towards the
shallows. "Hey, you know what I love most about the holodeck?"

"Do tell," Jaal prodded needlessly while folding his arms across his chest.

"This may look and feel real, but technically it's not. When the
program ends, all the water goes away-- including the water soaking
our uniforms. All I do is run a hand through my hair, put my boots
back on, and I'm good as new...no need for a new uniform or anything."
She kicked a foot idly back and forth in the shallow water, savoring
the feel of it through her toes, and added, "Technology is awesome."

"I suppose you're right," he looked around with an almost sad
expression, "It's too bad it isn't real though." He looked to Iniara
as the sadness melted from his face, "There's so much more fun to have
in reality. Ya know?"

"Very true." Iniara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting once more
out to sea. "You know, this almost reminds me of--"

"Operations to Captain Tarin."

Abruptly cut off by the interruption, Iniara's eyes narrowed as she
tried her best not to stab her commbadge too hard. Only partially
succeeding in that endeavor she replied, "Tarin here; go ahead."

"Sir, you have an incoming transmission from Rear Admiral Odetta
Pearle; priority two."

"Understood, thank you. Tarin out." Tapping her commbadge once more
she turned towards Jaal and grinned almost sarcastically. "Now what
was that about reality being so much more fun?" she asked playfully.

Jaal shrugged sheepishly. "That's how things go sometimes on a
starship. You should know better by now."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it though," she replied.

"You still haven't told me your original reason for finding me," he
questioned her before she turned and left. "If you want, when you're
done with your shift meet me for a meal?"

The question blurted out before he could stop it but he didn't regret
it either. Sure, he'd shared a couple of hot nights with Ophelia but
they really hadn't made any commitments to each other so there was no
guilt at all. In fact, he thought later, it wouldn't be a bad thing to
expand his horizons a little.

"Sure; sounds good," Iniara replied as she sloshed out of the water
towards her boots. Her instinct was to try and dry her feet before
she put the boots back on, but knowing that the 'water' would
disappear as soon as she walked off the holodeck, she didn't bother.
"I'll bring my padd...all I wanted to ask you about was your mission
report, and what happened to Lieutenant Kyznetsova." As expected
Jaal's expression darkened slightly at that, but she kept going.
"Maybe we can go through it over some dinner. Computer, arch."

The scenery shimmered out to reveal the holodeck's blast doors, which
oddly enough had appeared halfway in the shallows. Iniara watched
with interest as the doors slid open, the gently lapping water
seemingly held back by an invisible wall. She stepped out into the
hall beyond, marveling at the feel of the water and sand 'evaporating'
from her body as she passed beyond the holoemitters, then turned, ran
a hand through her slightly messy hair, and finished, "I'll comm you
when I'm done with the Admiral. Until then!"

"What Lies Within: Part 2"

Sonia An'quinsos
Adrian An'quinsos
And various NPC's

*2261: Sector Unknown*

The usual reactions to someone screaming your name as a disruptor gun
is being aimed is to recoil back from whatever's near you or scramble
away for dea life. However, everyone reacts in their own way. However
everyone and every race reacts in their own way, from struggling, to
blind fighting, and even winking someone out of existence. However,
Aud'rhian did something else not because of choice, but because of
instinct and more importantly, reflexes. As clawed hands reached out
to grab him, he began as graceful of a circle formation as one might
attempt in an environmental suit. Nearing its left side, a palm strike
was delivered just beneath the ribs sending it howling in pain.
Momentum, carrying him further he reached the back, delivering to
strikes to approximate place of his kidneys. Rotation still in
progress another strike was delivered to its left side and finally a
fist strike, aimed directly for its solar plexus before entering a
defensive stance. Unable to keep its balance, it fell backward, its
center of gravity lost, crumpling unceremoniously to the ground
unconscious, the wind sufficiently knocked out of it.

"Aud'rhian… we need to go." Sonriell intoned softly as the sounds of
footsteps could be heard in the cooridor.

"Yes… we need-"

The El-Aurians turned and went into an all out run for the
Orioni't'hazi. Nearing the ship she tapped a button on her wrist and
the doors opened. Neither of them stopped until they were inside,
closed the doors, and began their departure. Helmet removed on her way
into the bridge, Sonriell triggered the docking bay doors to open and
took off as fast as the ship would allow within the conditions of the
nebula and saw a number of those creatures drifting dead in space and
breathed a sigh of relief. If there was any trace of movement she
would have jumped to maximum warp, damn the dangers. Coming to a full
stop at the edge of the pocket, the woman raised shields, and began a
series of sensor sweeps before heading back to the cargo hold to get
out of her suit.

"Aud'rhian are you…"

Out of his suit, the youth- by El-Aurian standards- was staring at the
floor. The only sign of movement could be seen in his hands, which
wasn't initially apparent until she got closer. It was very slight,
though beginning to increase; she could see them shaking, almost
uncontrollably. Remaining silent, she began to remove her suit,
watching him carefully as she did so, and then after putting it up,
took a seat next her baby brother on a bench in the room. As she put
an arm around him, she noticed that it seemed to help, but not much.
It was funny, Sonriell mused; the five of them were different in their
own ways. She was admittedly headstrong, stubborn, and strong-willed;
called the eye of the storm by her father. Kailen was serious,
responsible, and a bit of a traditionalist. Jaina was similar, but
more fiery, color, and very creative. Eldred technologically gifted;
reputed able to listen to any engine, he could find the source of the
problem without fail and come up with several solutions. Aud'rhian,
she considered was the most personable of them and the gentlest,
something she considered he would never grow out of in his lifetime.

"Are you all right? It didn't hurt you or anything did it?"

The older sibling blinked, smiled, and pulled him in slightly. "No,
I'm okay little brother, not one scratch on me."

"Good." He said slowly and then shifted his gaze to the wall before
them. "I… I killed them. I-I didn't mean to, it was just a simple
reaction, those hands were so close, and I couldn't let them harm
you."

"I know Aud'rhian, and you did the right thing. Mind you," She looked
at him with a small grin. "I they got the message after a few shots.
Still, don't beat yourself up over it Aud'rhian, that's the price of
exploration- something our ancestors learned a long time ago when we
first began exploring the galaxy."

"What did you mean when you said don't tell dad?" There was a timbre
in his voice suggesting a want to shift the subject.

"Oh… I 'borrowed' his security codes." She placed a finger to her
lips. "I hedged my bets on the assumption that if the records were
classified that anything our father had might come in handy. You
recognized that technology didn't you?"

Aud'rhian nodded with reflection.

"I had a strong feeling that it would take that kind of security
clearance to get us through that door." She intoned in thought. "Also
that the technology used to mask the ship was ours, and I can
certainly understand why they did it. What I don't fully understand is
why that ship was created. However, I intend to find out everything
once we get back to the Homeworld." Sonriell titled her head slightly.
"By the way, excellent form back there."

He blinked a moment, making himself recall exactly what it was she was
referring to. "Oh… thank you, or rather, thank our father. He's an
excellent instructor."

Sonriell smiled and they sat their together in the silence for a bit
longer before returning to the small bridge. Everything from bridge to
generator schematics was uploaded into the mainframe for future study.
Once the sensor sweeps were finished and everything was determined to
be working and in proper order, the El-Aurian set course back to the
Homeworld. The ship remained in its place, unbothered by anyone or
anything as the place was well bathed in radiation to do anything
except to observe the nebula for aesthetic value. Even the most
sensitive of sensor technology wouldn't have detected and anything
that would run upon by happenstance would quickly find out why it was
masked from sight. Now whether they would live to tell about hat
matter… that's another story for another time…

*2385: Deep Space 4*

"Aww dad come on, please?"

"Maxim, if you've seen one holodeck simulation you've seen them all."

"But dad, it's a sky diving simulation complete with everything from
cloud surfing to air turbulence, and all sorts of really cool stuff!"

"If you want to go sky diving and cloud surfing we can do that when we
get back to Risa. I'm sure your Uncle Dyfed had tons of new tricks to
teach you the moment we're there."

"You're no fun at all!" He frowned, those bright blue eyes narrowing
into twin points as he glanced back at his father.

"I am too fun!" He proclaimed loud enough to make only the deaf unable
to hear him. "Why, I'm the funnest thing since… since Warp Nine!"

"Oh really?" Maxim asked crossing his arms.

"Well-"

"Impossible: at warp nine you get to cruise breakneck speeds all the
while making sure you watch out for stars, planets, rogue asteroids,
comets, shockwaves, and of course… extreme turbulence." There was a
certain glow in that voice. "Now that is true fun."

"Aunt Sonia!" The boy exclaimed, forgetting whatever grievances he
might have had with his father as he ran up to the six-foot-four woman
and gave her a hug. "I've missed you!"

The El-Aurian laughed as she bent down to hug him. "As I have you
Maxim. It's been months since I last seen you. Seems like you've grown
an inch or two. And Adrian," She raised her brow, emerald orbs
glancing at him thoughtfully. "Not turning into Kailen are we?"

It was his turn to give a look. "I'll turn into Kailen when I consider
lectures, tests, and grading papers to be fun. Until that time comes-
which will be never- consider the pleasure centers in my brain to be
functioning perfectly."

"Excellent," She pronounced then nodded back behind her. "As you can
see they were kind enough of to provide me with a security detail-"

"Which I trust that you've been very kind to-"

"And they could some fun of their own."

"What are you-"

"Lieutenant Ried," She spun on her heels with the energy of a woman a
fraction of her age. "I have a very important assignment for you."

The Lieutenant junior grade stepped forward, a little unsure of what
she wanted but wasn't about to show that on his face or his posturing.
Whatever it was it had to be important; did that mean the information
would be encrypted in some way? Regardless, this was after all a
Starfleet Admiral, and any assignment she may have on him could be
vital to Starfleet Security. It could mean medals of distinction and
maybe even a promotion…

"I want you to take my nephew to the Holodeck."

"Cool!"

Or not…

"I hear they have an excellent sky diving simulation on this station!"

He swallowed hard and then looked over at this kid. He couldn't have
been any older than seven or eight. Why he had a little brother that
age, and all that kid was interested in was baseball. This kid was
probably into similar things, I mean who actually does stuff like that
at this age?

"Awesome, thank you Aunt Sonia!" He hugged her once more and walked up
to the Lieutenant, holding out a hand to shake. "Maxim An'quinsos."

"Zack Reid," He replied shaking the boy's hand with his best smile,
meanwhile crying inside. If he wanted to do crazy stunts he would have
been a fighter pilot…

"You are to guard him with the same- the same amount of important as
you would me, got it Lieutenant?"

"Yes ma'am." The Lieutenant replied quickly. Maybe they could stop by
sickbay on their way to the Holodeck.

"Have fun you two!" She called out, waiving them goodbye with a satisfied smile.

It all happened so fast for Adrian An'quinsos. One moment he was
debating with his son, the next his sister shows up, and it all
concluded with his son walking off with a security officer to the
Holodeck. He blinked throughout all of this, many times he blinked
trying to grasp the situation and then found himself reaching over to
pinch himself to see if whether or not this was all some surrealistic
daydream he was having. With the first pinch he wasn't convinced;
anyone could pinch themselves once in a daydream. But, it was after
the fifth time that he finally convinced himself that this was taking
place and he had been little more than a pawn in his sister's power
mad schemes to… rule the galaxy?

"You… you… what did you just do?"

"I made it so that I could speak to you in private," She turned
around, the smile gone, and gestured him to walk with her. The
El-Aurian looked back at the other security officer and nodded; while
she'd rather not have either of them, she could deal with one. "On
something very important and very… familiar."

"Are we heading to your quarters?"

"I just got here actually; no time for quarters, and no time to settle in."

"A ship's coming by to claim you then?" He chuckled slightly.
"Eldred's still not done with the Orioni't'hazi?"

"No." She frowned. "When I gave my baby to him I stated only that I
wanted system upgrades and even handed him the schematics. When Eldred
took one look at the ship, he shook his head and told me that in light
of the Dominion War, Borg Attacks, and of course the Triad, a total
system's overhaul as in order."

"I thought Eldred left Federation Space months ago?" Adrian queried.
"Said he wanted to see the rest of the Alpha Quadrant and promised to
keep in touch."

"He did, and then I asked him back." The humanoid female replied
soundly nodding towards a table. "He assembled a group of engineers
and technicians-"

"El-Aurian?" Adrian asked, slightly concerned as he took a seat.
Although the Federation had a good combination of engineers and
technicians, there were some systems totally incompatible and others
that were sensitive. The fact that she let their brother do this meant
a miracle must've taken place.

"Mostly; El-Aurian engineers are hard to find." The understatement of
the century. "Eldred liked the ideas, loved the schematics, and was
thrilled with what I wanted. And then a second afterwards he looked at
me with this certain smile of his and said he could do much better."

Adrian leaned forward, eyes darting back forth briefly before landing
on her. What Federation Standard that had passed between them
previously was abandoned and replaced with their own language. "A
haash' n'shireth…" [We can speak now…]

["Do you remember when you were a child, when our mother used to tell
you about the Time of Legends? They began in the early days, shortly
after our ancestors began to explore the galaxy. They were also called
the Time of the Empire when Pen Shoza was said to have written his
famous Saga of Destiny."]

["Yes,"] He nodded thoughtfully. ["When the Bal-Shiroc came to our
world and chaos descended upon it like a plague. After the Empress
Amnoni was killed the Emperor journeyed to the Sea of the Sand's
Birth, learned the secrets of the monks, and killed the Demon that
killed his wife. Everyone knows those stories-"] He looked at her
suspiciously ["What does that have to do with why you're here
Sonriell?"]

["Do you remember that ship we found in the nebula Aud'rhian?" ] She
gazed pointedly at him. ["It was four years before the Borg destroyed
our Homeworld, and we found it…"]

Adrian looked back at her a moment, leaned back a little, and regarded
her with a distant expression. The Nebula must've been one of the most
beautiful sights he'd ever seen of their Homeworld. It made them look
diminutive in comparison with those vast pillars that ascended into
forever, the glow of young, hot stars, swirling gases, and glowing
clouds. And then there was a patch in that nebula and something about
it made his hairs stands on end. It was the same something that was
occurring, except this time it was combined with chills. Memories of
dark corridors lit only by their lights, claw-like hands and those
screams…

["The Dampening Field Technology was ours."] He finally spoke as the
less pleasant aspects of the trip passed before his eyes. ["There was…
a series of Old High El-Aurian characters on the console in that room.
I figured it was some of our people trying to mislead whoever might
try and tamper with what was there. I had other suspicions, but I was
only forty six at the time."]

["I finally used our father's access codes to open the classified
section of the Archives-"]

["I'm not surprised."]

["Just before the Bal-Shiroc descended upon our world, the Emperor put
the Imperiatrix Protocols which called for a series of warships to be
constructed. He didn't want just any old warship, he wanted the
ultimate ship, a monster of incredible size, resilience, and power. He
wanted something of indomitability, a ship which, if need be could
last millennia and he got that ship."] She looked toward the window
for a moment. ["The Empire was pooled their vast recourses together to
give him twelve such ships. It took a century as all efforts were
concentrated on this near-insurmountable endeavor, but they did it."]

["So what were those things aboard that ship then?"]

["Hybrids."] It was the best word she could up with at the moment.
["If you like, think shock troops that were created, placed in
suspended animation, and then unfrozen for this one chance to excise
the Bal-Shiroc from our Homeworld. They were a combination, the best
of both worlds if you like. However the El-Aurian genome has always
had this thing about being 'combined,' hence stasis. They would last
for a day, maybe even three at the most and then die. Those we found
on that ship had probably been in undiscovered stasis pods."]

He frowned slightly; the whole thing sounded almost horrible. To think
someone might have volunteered to undergo this, only to die later
whether they won or not. As for the El-Aurian genetic structure, it
was incredibly resilient, and didn't like to be messed with. ["So what
happened after the battle?"]

["The Emperor was amazed, beyond his expectations in fact, but wasn't
sure what to do with the ships. Even in our early days we were never a
warrior race and even this was just a meant to destroy something that
had brought nothing but pain, anguish and death upon our world. But
with all that happened, it also became our greatest shame. Eventually
it was decided that the ships would be used as colony transport
vessels. Finally nine of the twelve were scrapped, the metal reused to
make new, smaller ships."]

["That a few things then; what those things were on board that old
ship, why the information was hidden in the Planetary Archives, but
not the reason why there was a ship hidden in that nebula and where
are the other two?"]

["One of the last great battles was fought there, possibly the one
that was to determine the outcome of the whole battle. The ship was
said to be placed there to honor those who had died for a noble cause…
or something of that nature. Some records indicate that someone came
upon it by happenstance and the government dealt with it the best way
they could. The nebula was a reasonable location; I might actually try
to return sometime and see if everything is still there."

["And the other two?"]
["One was said to have taken a large number of our people to a world
lying in this Quadrant beyond the boundary of known space. The
other…"] She bit her lip lightly before going further. ["The other was
found in a double star system, which is why I came to talk to you."]

["Oh?"] Adrian looked back at her with heavy concern; suppose if the
triad found it. ["What does this have to do with-"] He cut his own
self off in thought and replied. ["You need someone who knows the
ship."]

The woman nodded as her combadge went off…

=/\= "Strider to An'quinsos, this is the Stormwarden."=/\=

=/\= "An'quinsos here go ahead."=/\=

=/\= "We're ready to bring you aboard."=/\=

=/\= "I'll let you know, An'quinsos out "=/\=

Adrian's mouth dropped slightly. "The Stormwarden? You're getting
there via the Stormwarden? Why?"

"Even a Fleet Admiral has a favorite ship Adrian," She smiled a little
and leaned forward. "And I like the Stormwarden, she's a part of my
fleet after all."

He frowned at her as memories of the Stormwarden came flooding back
then conceded. "Fine… when do we leave?"

"I never thought you'd ask. We'll leave as soon as Maxim gets back
from the Holodeck. I think we can bring along that Lieutenant Ried to
keep him company. I'm sure they're having an excellent time…"

*Holodeck one*

As they jumped out of the shuttle, Maxim had this look of absolute
excitement, cheering as the soared through the air. Meanwhile
Lieutenant Ried could only think one thing…

'I don't wanna die… I don't wanna die… please don't let me die…'

"On Dragons and Legends"

Blunden Harbor, Northern British Columbia, Earth
====================================

"George, when will the Dragon come back?"

Looking up from his latest work, Chief George Sewid of the
Kwakwaka'wakw, had to consider the child's words carefully before
answering. Since her arrival from Bajor almost two years ago, young
Teallan Jeni had become as dear to him as his own daughters Keila and
Rose. His heart soared when he saw the children combing the rough,
gravel beach of Blunden Harbor for scallop and clam shells, or chasing
seagulls along the ebbing waves. Seventeen months and many of the
village couldn't imagine life without the Bajoran child, but they
didn't see the darkness she tried to keep hidden, or the scars her
psyche bore.

In public Jeni was the model child with an overdosed sense of
curiosity. With gusto she had quickly explored every nook and cranny
of the village and surrounding coastline, and had even found ancient
cedar totems the villagers had lost in distant memory, but the
discoveries were painted subtly with something more sinister…
something a child of twelve summers shouldn't know. In his evening
walk in the shadowy cedar forest, George had come upon hidden caches
of food and supplies – cast off garbage to most villagers, but useful
items like old netting, rope wire and lures. He knew Jeni had stashed
the items, knowing of her nightmares all too well.

Th'Khiss had mentioned that the child had some dark experiences in the
Delta Quadrant, far away amongst distant stars. Parents passed on to
the beyond, Jeni had rejected the religious and social governance of
her people. She knew nothing of Bajor and cared nothing for their
Prophets, and at twelve years old had managed an escape from that
world worthy of the most skilled and accomplished smuggler. She had
developed other disturbing skills on the distant planet as well;
working on the salmon boats since fifteen George knew his way around a
knife well, but Jeni could filet Chinook and Coho faster than anyone
in the village and the Kwakwaka'wakw chief knew that preparing fish
wasn't the only thing the child could so with a blade.

~Sisiutl, what have you gotten me into?~

Sewid looked at Jeni's expectant face, then down at the rough cedar
mask in his calloused hands. From the unfinished wood interlocking
fangs grinned up at him, and large unpainted eyes bore into his soul.
The mask was of a Sisiutl, the Kwakwaka'wakw soultaker spirit who
dwelled in the cold waters of Queen Charlotte Sound and when Th'Khiss
K'aa came to study his tribe it was as though the ancient legend had
grown legs and walked into their lives – the resemblance was more than
uncanny. The Gorn warrior had lived with them for a year, then a
second, and today the elders often asked when the Sisiutl would return
to sit on the village dock and eat halibut or Chinook whole, and sing
of his distant and ancient race. Now, his friend had been out of
contact for over a year, and calls to Starfleet were met with
professional but icy rejection.

"I don't know, Jeni", he said at last. "I'll keep trying, I promise."

The Bajoran girl frowned but nodded at the Chief's words, then looked
down at the unfinished mask now lying on the cluttered workbench.
"That looks like the Dragon… is it?"

"The… Dragon's father", George replied, not wanting to admit that he
started the work in a fit of nostalgia instead of devotion to the
artistic and spiritual heritage of the Kwakwaka'wakw. "He looks like
him though, doesn't he?"

"The Dragon's fangs are bigger", she said quickly and in a tone that
would tolerate no debate. "He's not coming back, is he?"

A leathery index finger brushed fine curls of cedar shavings from the
brow of the spirit mask. He'd finish the carving work tonight, and
tomorrow bright enamels would be applied to bring the piece to life -
but now a child needed his full attention, and no myth or legend was
as important.

"I don't know."

"Jeni and the Dragon"

Teallan Jeni, Bajoran Refugee
The Dragon (?)

My name is Jeni and I'm ten and yesterday I met a Dragon.

Momma told be all about dragons when I was little. She called them
endo... endoter... well, said they were cold blooded animals that
liked to lie on the rocks back on Bajor to keep warm. I've never been
to Bajor, but everybody says it's real nice. And even better now than it
was when Momma was there. She also said they had lots of teeth and
scales in stead of skin, and she was right.

I was hiding from the Cardies on the new ship when the Dragon found
me. My hiding places are good 'cause I'm real small, so the Dragon
had to use its claw to reach in and get me. I hit him with my shiv,
and it got stuck in his hand past his wrist. I don't think I hurt him
much, but I don't think he liked it.

There was a lot of growling and hissing, and he grabbed me with his
other claw by my tunic. Momma didn't tell me dragons could talk -
that was a surprise. He's got a real low voice that kinda growls and
hisses at the same time. Anyways, he dangled me in the air by my
tunic and said "That wasn't very nice", but with a lot more "S" sounds
everywhere. And he made me pick the shiv out of his hand.

The Dragon's got a really big head, and I swear by the Prophets he
could bite my head or even the Gul's head clean off. But mostly he
uses it for talking. He talks a lot. He wanted to know where Momma
and Daddy were an' I told him they were with the Prophets.

I don't think he believed me. And he made lots of hissing noises.

I asked him where his Momma and Daddy where, and he had to think a
long time before saying he didn't have any. I didn't believe him
either, but he seemed kind of sad. I said it was bad to have no
family, 'cause I think it is, and he said he did have a family, and
asked if I wanted to see it. The Dragon's pretty neat, so I said yes
as long as he promised not to eat me.

He didn't say anything, but made a bunch of hissing noises kinda like
the sound a harvester makes when it breaks down.

Anyways, he took me to a neat room that had a whole beach ocean behind
the door! He said it wasn't an ocean, but something called an inlet,
but I think it was an ocean. It was the most water I've ever seen
ever! We walked for a bit until we saw a village made of wood at the
edge of the beach. It smelled nice because of the smoky, salty smells
in the air - there was some fish drying on poles, and some being
smoked.

It made me hungry.

I was surprised that the Dragon's family weren't other dragons, but
humans! Maybe he was a human who got turned into a Dragon, I don't
know.

The first member of his family I met was George, who was the Dragon's
brother. George was real nice, and have the Dragon a hard time for
not feeding me. We went to George's house and I got to eat something
called 'salmon' with 'potato salad' and 'just salad'. The 'just
salad' was like 'potato salad' but without the potatoes and more green
stuff. It was all pretty good, and George said I ate just like the
Dragon.

The Dragon ate a lot, but he didn't cook his salmon, and even ate the
heads. He also had something called "boiled Moosehead", but it was
just a hot can of liquid, and said I wouldn't like either one. George
agreed, and he dug out something called "ice cream" when I was
finished.

George is really really nice.

When we were done, we went to the beach and me and George's daughter
Keila got to go looking for stuff, but I had to give the Dragon my
shiv - he said I wouldn't need it anymore. Me and Keila went all
along the beach for hours and found lots of real good stuff. There
were things like 'clam shells' and 'scallop shells' and 'sand
dollars'. The sand dollar's were especially neat 'cause some of them
were alive. The alive ones had lots of hair on the bottom, and they
like to stay in the sand so we put them back.

Keila is nice like George. She's my age, and laughs a lot. She's
never heard of Cardies, or Spoonheads, or anything like that. George
must me a good Dad, because Keila's not afraid of anything.

I'm always afraid.

She had to drag me onto the part of the beach where the water is
because I was afraid of the waves, but I'm not now. I asked her if
she was ever afraid of things, and she pointed at the beach and said
when she was little, she was really afraid of the Dragon. She said
that when the Dragon first came, *everybody* was afraid of him, and I
can see why. It took a year for the villagers to not be ascared of
him. The other kids in the village would look at the Dragon from the
bushes, or underneath blankets, or from some shadows, but if it made
him angry he never showed it. It was when the Dragon started telling
stories of other dragons that most people started not being scared of
him.

We finished the day with lots of shells and sand dollars - more than
we could carry on one trip, but we threw some into the ocean so a nice
man called 'Bukwus' would make us rich. When the sun began to go
down, the Dragon called us in for dinner.

The whole village came to the beach and lit a big fire to cook dinner
with. I don't like fire, 'cause when there's a big fire, it means the
Cardies are mad. This was nice though, because nobody was angry and
there was a lot of laughing and singing and dancing. They gave me a
wolf's mask made of wood and I got to dance around the fire with the
other girls.

We ate more salmon for dinner, and potatoes that were put in the fire
and not a salad, more 'just salad' and something called 'steak' even
though it came from something called a 'cow'. There wasn't any more
ice cream, but there
was something called 'Indian candy', but it wasn't candy, just a
different kind of
salmon. It was good, though.

I've never eaten so much, and I could barely move when I was finished
- my tummy was making lots of weird gurgly sounds, but it felt good to
be full. When the plates were cleared, it was time for a story and
the adults drew sticks to see who was going to tell it. Everyone
laughed when the Dragon got the stick, and he made a big show of
hissing and growling and complaining but it just made everybody laugh
more.

I was really full, and the heat of the fire was making me really
sleepy, but I really wanted to hear the Dragon's story. I thought it
would be a story of other Dragons, but it wasn't, it was the story of
the Mouse Woman.

The Mouse Woman came with the other spirits in the Black Canoe. She
was the auntie of the Raven, and tried to keep him out of trouble but
he was too clever and misch... mischiev... bad, but not in a mean way.
The other spirits were the Raven, the Eagle, the Dogfish Woman, the
Grizzly and the Grizzly Mother and her Cubs. A Cub is a baby Grizzly,
and there was a good Cub and a bad Cub, but not in a mean way. There
was also the Wolf, the Beaver, the Frog, and the Dogfish Woman who was half fish
and half woman - no dog. The last on the Canoe were two humans - the Shaman
who was the leader, and the Conscript, who was scared all the time
but had to row.

That was a lot of people in the Canoe and there was lots more who
wanted to go, but there was no room. The only one who could go with
them was the Mouse Woman, who was very small, and very brave, and very
clever. She hid under the Raven's tail which was a good thing because
the Raven was telling the Shaman where to guide the Canoe, and the
Raven could be very bad, but not in a mean way.

The Raven actually got the Canoe lost lots of time because he thought
it was funny and he likes to trick people, but the Mouse Woman was
always there to make sure the Raven was nice and tell the Shaman the
right way to go.

The Spirits must be like the Prophets, because the Canoe travelled
over the sky and stars, and the Sprits can't be seen any more unless
they want you to.

I don't remember where the Canoe went 'cause I went to sleep and slept
for a long time. When I woke up, the sun was almost as high as it
could go and I was really hungry again. The Dragon took me into one
of the houses and we had breakfast with George's family. It was only
something called oatmeal, with no salmon, but it was good.

We said goodbye to George and his family, and I hugged Keila who gave
me a nice blanket to keep me warm when it got cold. The Dragon asked
if I really wanted it, which was strange because he didn't give it to
me. I said I did, and he went off to make sure it would go with me,
whatever that meant.

We left the beach and went through the doorway and came back to the
ship just as everybody was going to leave. The Dragon found one of
the mylar and made sure she would take me onto the transport going
back to Bajor. It made me sad, because when I was around the Dragon,
who no longer scared me, I didn't feel afraid of anything. I grabbed
onto his leg, which was really warm, and wouldn't let go. I even
called him a liar because Dragons were supposed to be cold blooded and
he was warm.

He shook and hissed a lot, but it didn't seem like he was angry. A
big, scaly hand cradled my head and he explained that staying close to
the fire had made him warm, and he wasn't the type who lied. He also
said that there was nothing to be afraid of, because he had something
that would protect me better than any shiv.

I let go, and wiped some of the tears from my eyes. The Dragon knelt
down to my level, and I saw that his eyes were really big and yellow,
bigger than I thought. He put a leather necklace around my head, and
at the bottom was a wooden face of a very small, whiskered lady. It
was the Mouse Woman, and the Dragon said that if I kept the Mouse
Woman with me to Bajor, she would make sure nothing bad happened to
me, because she was really clever. I looked at her face, and I could
see her small mouse nose and whiskers, and the little smile she had.

The Dragon stood and shoo'd me into the transport with the mylar, and
wished me a good trip. The door closed, and I could see him still
waving his claws behind the glass for a while.

I sat with my blanket and the Mouse Woman's face in my hands, and when
the mylar asked my what the necklace was, she wasn't very nice and said
it was blas... blasfem... bad, but not in a mean way. He said the
Prophet's wouldn't like it. I told her that the Mouse Woman would
stay with me, because she was small, and didn't take up much room.
When we got to Bajor, I'd introduce her to the Prophets, and maybe
they would be friends.

I don't think the Mylar liked that. I'll keep a real close eye on
Mouse Woman just in case.

Sometimes, when I think of that Miranda place, I think it was like a
dream because things were so bad for a long time. The Cardies are
gone, and every body's got lots of food and don't look scared all the
time, but it doesn't feel real sometimes.

I have to look at Mouse Woman to remember that day.

Dragons don't *really* talk, do they?

"The Case of the Case"

Lt. Cmdr. Tarin Iniara
Acting CO, USS Galaxy

****
Deck 8
Senior Officers' Quarters

It had taken a day and a half for Operations to realize that the smell
just wasn't going to come out. So, instead of working around the
clock to replace every single piece of carpet, wall paneling, ceiling,
furniture, and all the other fixtures found in the standard set of
senior officer-level quarters, they'd elected to move her.

Iniara didn't mind, not too much at least. Unlike most everyone who
was on the ship for any length of time, the XO had but a handful of
small personal items in her quarters, not a single one of which had
been defiled by the so-called 'Phantom'. Therefore, it took only a
short amount of time for the assigned crewmen to catalog the suite's
contents, move her personal items, dispose of everything else in the
matter reclamators, and replicate a set of identical items for use in
her new quarters. Having been in charge of similar projects when
she'd been an Operations Officer, Iniara knew that given the
relatively small amount of uniforms, off-duty clothing, personal
grooming items and nonstandard decorative fixtures she had, it would
take the crew of four ratings no more than two hours to complete the
task.

Thus, she was pleased when, one hour and fifty-two minutes after she'd
approved Operations' request to move her down the hall, they commed
her back to let her know everything was done.

"Thank you, Chief. Tarin out," she finished, closing the channel with
a tap of her commbadge. It was getting to be about dinnertime, so why
not go 'home', check out the new place, and grab a bite to eat. Of
course, that would only take a few seconds, she thought as she powered
down her desktop terminal, turned off the lights, moved through the
outer office into the hallway...

...and right into her new quarters.

Iniara was still trying to decide if her new quarters being right
across the hall from her office, and thus mere meters from the Battle
Bridge, was going to wind up being incredibly convenient or incredibly
irritating. Probably a bit of both, she figured. But since this was
the only already configured suite of the proper size that wasn't
occupied and didn't smell like day-old feces, there hadn't been much
choice. She'd tried to get the crewman with whom she'd initially
spoken to assign her somewhere else, even if it meant moving into a
smaller suite; after all, she was single, didn't possess much, hardly
ever entertained visitors, and rarely did anything in her quarters but
work and sleep, so what was the point of all the space? But after
about thirty seconds of back-and-forth with the crewman, who'd
nervously stammered something about 'the space each officer was
entitled to' and how a two-unit suite just wasn't large enough for
someone of her rank, Iniara had decided there were much more important
things to worry about on this ship than the distance (or lack thereof)
between office and home.

Well, at the very least, she thought as she stepped through the door,
her new suite was configured exactly as her old one had been. For a
moment she'd been worried that something weird would happen, like the
bedroom would be on the left this time, or the kitchen and desk areas
would be backwards, or the furniture would be in that hideous
patterned pale green fabric that had been cropping up on some of the
newer Starfleet installations, or something else equally unexpected.

"Computer, lights." As the room brightened, Iniara took a moment to
look around. No, everything was just as it should be. Well, for the
most part, she realized as her gaze settled on a small grouping of
objects arranged neatly on the corner of the desk. The pile was
topped by a padd, which she picked up and activated, skimming the
short report which had been left for her by the Ops crew.

REPORT 45509A-991-17C
PREPARED BY Operations Work Crew 17C: Rodis, Eric; th'Endilev,
Harvallathen; Cassidy, Jeanine; Shan, Toren
STARDATE 60804.02

Reconfiguration of quarters Deck 8, Section 17, Unit 03.

Items of nonpersonal or replaceable nature replaced due to persistent odor:
(5) uniform, standard duty, full set
(1) uniform, Class A, full set
(1) uniform, dress, full set
(1) field jacket
(1) duty vest
(2) standard swimsuit
(5) training fatigues
(2) footwear, standard
(1) footwear, dress
(1) footwear, training
(1) personal grooming kit 441-B

Items of personal or irreplaceable nature moved:
(1) holoprojector and stand, black, cylindrical, 15 cm tall x 8 cm diameter
(1) small framed photograph, silver frame, 10 cm x 8 cm
(1) small framed pair of holoimages, black frame, 25 cm x 15 cm
(1) standard issue display case containing (9) service ribbons and (3)
medals, dark wood finish, 30 cm x 20 cm
(1) standard Federation shipping container, serial number
5997-40E-122905, contents unknown, 1.5 m x 1 m x 0.5 m

All civilian/nonstandard/personal attire with persistent odor
separated and maintained in container 2042-44873, also moved.

Reconfiguration completed stardate 60804.02 at 1918 hours by
Operations Work Crew 17C.

END REPORT

Her eyes roaming over the few objects, Iniara's gaze first settled on
the glossy black box sitting on the floor, the numbers 2042-44873
emblazoned in vibrant red on its top. She stooped down and opened the
case just far enough to see what was inside.

"Whooo!" she whistled, slammed the case shut on what she assumed was
all her civilian attire and underclothes, then waved her hand in front
of her face to try and disperse the smell. Frankly, it was amazing
how pervasive the smell was, given that the Phantom hadn't even left
his 'gifts' in her closet. She made a mental note to have Operations
come pick up the case for disposal; it was nice of the crew to leave
her civilian attire in case she had wanted to go through it, but with
that smell, she was just going to have to let it all go. Thankfully,
she realized, nothing in there was totally irreplaceable. Losing the
deep green Tholian silk dress she'd picked up during her last real
shore leave (which had been years ago, she recalled with a slight
grimace) was somewhat irritating, but she could replace it eventually.
Besides, in the years she'd had it, she'd worn it maybe three times.
It was beautiful, but...

Iniara frowned as her gaze moved on to the other large case, this one
a flat, rectangular piece in the drab grey of a Starfleet shipping
container. "This isn't mine..." she murmured. Certain the crew had
made a mistake, Iniara flipped back to the report, then looked back
down at the case once more. Sure enough, she noticed after a moment,
the serial number on the case matched the one in the report.

Tossing the padd onto her desk, Iniara squatted down, running a hand
over the case's smooth top. She searched her mind, trying to remember
if she'd ever seen this particular case before, and after several
seconds realized that she hadn't. But as she squinted at the tiny
text printed below the larger serial number, Iniara realized it had
her name, ship, and old room number on it.

"Computer," she called out, "access information on shipping container
5997-40E-122905."

"Information accessed."

"Who is listed as the recipient of this container?"

"Tarin, Iniara; Lieutenant Commander; Executive Officer, USS Galaxy NCC-70637."

"And who is listed as the sender?"

"Tarin, Iniara; Lieutenant Commander; Executive Officer, USS Galaxy NCC-70637."

Iniara frowned and looked up at the ceiling, as if she could somehow
pinpoint the exact location of the omnipresent computer voice and
shoot it a dirty look. She'd sent no such container, especially not
to herself. Did that mean someone was forging shipping documents?
"When was the container shipped?" she continued.

"Stardate 60707.06."

"Point of origin of the shipment?"

"Vulcan. Province of Raal, city of Tir."

"What in the..." Moving into a kneel she leaned forward, eyes roaming
over every square centimeter of the thing. She'd never shipped
anything this size or shape, especially not to herself. She thought
the date corresponded to Galaxy's trip to Vulcan last year, so it
could have come aboard then...but she'd never been to any city called
Tir, and certainly not to ship herself a random container with
Prophets only knew what inside. Was this someone's idea of a stupid
prank or practical joke? If so, she failed to see the purpose.

"When did this container arrive on board?" she continued her
questioning of the computer.

"Stardate 60707.10."

"What happened to it after that?"

"Case received at 1207 hours in batch 3498-A-231 by Forn, Thelon;
Petty Officer Second Class; Cargo Bay Operations. Case transferred
same day to personal quarters unit 08-0414 at 1423 hours. Case moved
to personal quarters unit 08-1703 on stardate 60804.02 at 1840 hours."

Sighing, Iniara dropped into a sitting position before the case. So,
according to the computer, this shipping case had been in her old
quarters for about half a year until it had been moved into her new
quarters by the work crew less than two hours ago. Scratching her
head, she tried to grasp at the fleeting memories that were passing
behind her eyes, snatching at anything that looked like it had
something to do with this thing. There was a vague idea of the case
floating around in there...something about coming home one day,
finding the case on her floor...not thinking much of it...sliding it
under her bed...

But still, there was nothing in her head about ever having shipped the
case to herself. Was there? She closed her eyes and stilled her
breathing, doing her best to concentrate on the memories. If she
tried too hard they would flit away, but maybe if she was a bit more
patient...

"Oh, forget it," she said after a long moment, opening her eyes and
looking down once more at the case. All this digging and speculation
was a waste of time. Annoyed, she pressed her thumb firmly against
the case's thumbprint reader. After a moment the case chirped
pleasantly, its small screen coming to life and displaying the text
"Please enter personal access code" with a small keypad below it.

Iniara slapped her forehead in frustration. "In the name of the
Prophets..." she muttered, then quickly input her standard shipboard
access code. The case buzzed at her, the display automatically
refreshing itself: the code was incorrect. So she tried it backwards.
Same thing. She tried her Starfleet serial number, then her Bajoran
Militia serial number, then her birthday, then the birthdays of all
the relatives and close friends she could remember, before finally
getting frustrated enough to slap the top of the case, hard, the sound
of skin on metal echoing briefly through the room. She let out a low
growl, rubbing the stinging palm with her other hand.

"Forget it. Forget it, forget it, forget it," Iniara repeated as she
stood, grabbing one edge of the case and dragging it towards her new
bed. "Whatever's inside you must not be *that* important; I think I
can afford to ignore you for a while yet." Letting the case fall
unceremoniously to the floor she kicked at it, boot thumping against
its side as she pushed it under the bed.

Sighing and placing hands on hips she turned to face the remainder of
her personal effects. At least she knew where all of them had come
from. Some family photos, a box of medals, a holoprojector she rarely
used...it would take no time at all to set things up just the way they
had been. "Well, no time like now," she commented, and got to work.

6212