Hide and Seek, Part 2

Ensign Relsta

Mid-Afternoon

In life, we all have to play the cards that we are dealt.

Right now, unfortunately, Relsta was stuck with one sadistic bitch of a dealer.

The creature had paced for over ten minutes, so close that she could have touched its thick red fur. Its aroma was suffocating, rank and musky like bog gasses. Occasionally it would lunge in her general direction, snarling, and the smell that came from its maw was even more pungent. Relsta fought not to gag, her mind screaming hysterically even as she willed her body to stay perfectly still.

Why isn't it attacking? Surely it can see me! It's looking right at me!

It was as if the predator was aware that its prey was somewhere close—could sense her—and was becoming more agitated every minute that she eluded it.

Finally, it sat back on its haunches and screamed in frustration, a piercing, angry sound that sliced at the already frayed cords of her nerves.

And then, it stalked off.

Her hands shaking, Relsta grabbed a medium sized sharp rock and crawled back into the cover of the undergrowth, as quietly as possible. Safely out of sight, the trembling of her body grew uncontrollable and the rock slipped from her fingers. Why didn't it see me? What's going on?

Her brain grappled for explanations that made any semblance of sense, like that the creature was actually blind, or saw in a completely different spectrum of light that somehow did not include her...but a little voice, which sounded suspiciously like T'Pei at her most patronizing, pointed out that Artim hadn't been able to see her either. Relsta had never been so annoyed with the Vulcan woman when she wasn't even present.

Infuriating as it was, accepting that there might be something...'wrong' with her was at least an answer, and it calmed her down a bit. She had to get away from here and find Artim. Even if the Miran couldn't see her, he was in trouble, and she needed to help him. Plus, the creature had sort of been aware of her—maybe Artim would be too.

Relsta struck off downstream, torn between the hope that Artim had caught on a rock or drifted to shore, and the fear that he had, and the creatures had beaten her to him.

The afternoon wore on, the sun sinking lower to just beyond the tree line. Charcoal shadows smeared over the jungle, immediately swallowing the rich green of the trees, but chasing the flowers' more nimble reds and yellows up into the sky to form a stunning sunset. Relsta, who would normally have been near tears over such beauty, tried not to notice. Her people were social creatures, and the thought that she had nobody to share this scene with, might never share anything with anyone again, chilled the Denobulan to the bone. She had to find Artim. It simply wasn't an option.

She kept searching until long after the last ribbons of color had succumbed to the hungry darkness, on legs rubbery with exhaustion.

The night, however, with only stars to break the near perfect darkness, eventually drove her to stop. Until it was light, she could walk right past the Lieutenant and never see him. Relsta scaled a tree near the river, and there, clinging to the sturdiest branch she could find, discovered she could no longer escape from the dark thoughts that had been chasing her all day. After eight hours of walking, it was clear she wasn't going to find Artim—she tried desperately not to think about why. Even the oblivion of sleep was denied her, as her yearly hibernation would not come for months yet. Around and around her mind whirled— I don't know how to find anyone from the ship, and even if I could they wouldn't see me, unless I figure out what happened to me and fix it, but how can I do that with no equipment? And even if I can, by that time they'll have decided I was eaten and they'll leave, and I'll be stuck here, alone...

She couldn't face that; couldn't face the thought that they might leave her here, where not even the animals knew she existed. Relsta looked up at the stars, tears streaming down her face, waiting for morning's light.

"Following the Yellow Brick Road"

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

And The Mystery Gal
=====================================

(Alpha KS-128)

Colonel Arvelion had to lead almost 30 Marines a little over 10 kilometers through mostly open terrain behind enemy lines. The slaughter they inflicted on that Triad patrol was bound to draw unwanted attention, so it wasn't as if they had a great deal of time to make the trip either.

On the other-side of a narrow rise in the terrain marked by pockets of short pine trees, no more than a meter or so high, a full company of Triad troops, Breen judging by the mechanical voices, were marching towards the crash-site, likely looking to cut off the very Marines that were watching them march on.

For'kel's first instinct under normal circumstances would've been to attack. He had the advantage of surprise, concealment, and cover. The initiative would've been his (at first at least) and the fact that his Marines would've had one, maybe two whole seconds of open time to fire at point blank range at a standing, fully visible, and vulnerable enemy. They might have cut the Breen number by half before the infamous ice-worlders were able to form a coherent defense, bettering the odds immensely.

That being said, he was experienced enough to know that in 'this' case that would've been a very 'very' stupid idea.

His mission wasn't to kill enemy troops... at least not at the moment. As far as his concerned his mission was to get his troops, many of whom were fatigued and had injuries (however comparatively mild) of their own. Discretion was the better part of valor this evening he'd decided. It was best to watch them go, remain silent, and pray they moved on without incident.

Fortunately the Breen hadn't noticed they were being watch. As trained the Marines left practically no signature, and the ground was so frozen that it was nearly like walking on concrete, leaving no footprints for the more experienced and observant of the Breen Troops to pick up on.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the Breen moved on, eventually summiting a small hill and disappearing over it.

"It's fucking freezing." Private Ughalo, a Terran from someplace named Tanzania, lamented.

"Come on, you've never tried climbing Mount Kiliminjaro?" Leah asked, trying to hide the fact she was freezing as well when they started moving again.

"No."

"You come from Tanzania, and you've never been to Mount Kiliminjaro?"

"No, that place is cold too." The dark skinned Terran snuffed. "If you don't mind me asking sir, how long?"

For'kel didn't mind the question so much, though he wasn't exactly sure he had much of a good answer. It really depended on a number of variables. "Soon enough Private, hopefully soon after night fall."

And night fall was only another thirty or so minutes away. They really needed to get moving if they were going to get there before any ambient heat of the day dissipated and they were left with practically no choice but to use their suits' inbuilt heating elements which would light them up on power sensors like a candle in a window when the night was pitch black.

They put another kilometer plus behind them when the large Andorrian man threw up the halt sign. The Marines took defensive positions while Fork meandered his way over to the scout. "What's up?"

"Magnetic disturbance." The Andorrian whispered before pointing to his antennae.

And the Stagnorian didn't take long to discover why. The few dying rays of light left as gold battled orange battled red, and purple and blue where threatening to swallow their predecessors wholesale, revealed a wide area of recently overturned mounds of dirt. The minefield would have been cleverly hidden if it wasn't for the frozen ground... the field must have been laid by Hydran Engineers.

"We'll have to go around. The tree line is probably cl..." For'kel stopped talking suddenly.

"Did you hear that too?" The pointman asked.

There was another sound, the curdling moan of a wounded sentient being in obvious distress, and in rather bad shape. Out here, in the cold temperatures and wind gusts, a bad situation could get much worse very quickly, particularly if you were wounded.

"Yeah." Fork muttered. Shit, so much for going around. If he had access to some of the specialized engineering equipment the 188 had, they could've cleared the minefield in ten minutes, pick up the woman (so For'kel was figuring based on the voice weakly asking for 'help') and be on the other end. If there was a sniper on the other end (which would've accounted for how a woman managed to hit 'just' the right mine to be in the middle of a fucking minefield), it might've taken the engineer's 11 minutes to clear the field 'and' call an artillery strike in on the sniper. But all he had on him was a 'lightened' basic kit. The Engineers and their equipment were part of the party beamed directly to the camp by the Zeus.

He didn't want to run an active scan and possibly have the signal intercepted by enemy troops, but in this case the normal passive scan wouldn't tell him what type of mine they were dealing with... so he didn't have much of a choice other than to run the more detailed active scan.

It was a quick five second scan, hopefully too fast to alert the Triad. They were dealing with a fairly short and straight-forward 'personnel denial' style mine field. It was just over 50 meters deep, and ended at the tree line... the dispersal pattern indicating it was likely air-dropped and self-burying devices, which made sense when he thought about how exposed the mines were.

Fork snapped the tricorder closed. "All right, we don't know what's on the other side of the field, so let's play this safe. You guys stay here, I'm going to go forward and check things out. Post our sniper team in the tree-lines, if there's a shooter out there you guys are going to need to take him out before you can advance."

"Aye sir." The Andorrian nodded and took it upon himself to inform the unit of the plan.

For'kel adventured forward, shouldering his rifle and pulling out his type II as he moved through the minefield. He remembered doing this an awful lot as a 2nd Lieutenant, but that had been a few years ago back on the Miranda. With any hope he wasn't 'so' out of practice as for it to present a problem. The trick was, regardless of what most people thought, 'not' to step lightly. If you stepped lightly, you could hit a pressure mine, not realize it, and then blow yourself up with your next step. Force your foot down a little more heavily than usual though, and you're guaranteed to hear the 'click' if you make a mistake. Then, so long as you kept pressure on the mine, you'd be okay until your buddies could come help you out.

Man he really wished Transporter scatter devices and jammers weren't so wide-spread right now.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Fork briskly (at a pace one might consider reckless given there was a 'fuck' minefield involved) made his way through to a bloodied woman... girl really given her apparent age. She was blonde haired and blue eyed... kind of like Berilyn was when they first met if you substituted green eyes for blue, but fortunately his mind was set and focused on the situation. You didn't need annoying Deja Vu or flashbacks during a situation like this when your heart was pumping and the adrenaline was going. Her teeth were chattering, her fair skin was beginning to pale with the treat of frostbite, her blood was beginning to pool on the impermeable ground below her while falling snow had started and was beginning to sop it up...and although her wounds weren't severe the environment (and their lack of an available medic) made the situation more difficult...

Oh yeah, and the FUCKING mine field didn't help things either. Yep, Fork could think in run-on sentences.

She must've heard someone coming, because the obviously frightened girl started trying to scramble, as if her pretty eyes were just now focusing and she was trapped half way between sedate consciousness and alert unconsciousness.

"Shhh." He whispered as he carefully knelt next to her took her hand, and gave it a warm squeeze. "Relax, we're here to help. Stay where you are, don't move."

-------------------A While Earlier--------------------
"Perfect." Her eyes surveyed the territory in front of her that was pregnant with every conceivable type of land mine a creatively overzealous weapons expert could dream of in a wet drea

Her head lowered as she started to sing. "Off the Florida keys.....There's a place called Kokomo....that's where ya want to go.... to get away from it all...."

A slight grin later and a medium sized rock in hand, the young woman tossed the rock in the air and watched it fall flat to her open palm. Narrowing those overly big blue eyes again, she stepped ever so carefully between the mines. "Bodies in the sand....tropical drink melting in your hand....." Lifting her foot, she noticed the explosive resting eagerly on the ground. "Opps....That was close...."

She found her target a short distance from her current position and sighed heavily. Drawing her hand back behind her head with the rock nestled within it, her body stiffened. "That's where we wanna go.....way down in Kokomo....."

The slight ping was the signal that the mine had been hit. Normally, a person would close their eyes when they were staring death in the face, but not her. She watched silently with utter fascination as the small orb shot up and hovered in the air right at torso height. Another sound, a dark hiss signaled the projectionary shards extracting themselves from the orb.

Placing her hands on her hips, she teased the weapon to explode in front of her. The shards paused for a moment.

"Come to momma.........." The woman mocked as the primary explosion occurred with a brilliant fashion.

-------------Present time---------------------

Arvelion laid the type II down, and with his free hand (the 'trigger' one) he un-shouldered his rifle. Peering through the standard Starfleet Marine Corps sensor scope, he made a careful survey of their surroundings. The passive sensor node detected no abnormal power readings, no anomalous heat sources, and beyond the distortions caused by the minefield, there were no EM field distortions or suspicious signatures of any kind. The passive scanning element of his tricorder indicated all was clear, there was no sign of radio or subspace traffic, no indication of communications technologies of any kind that were unexplained. If there 'was' a sniper out there, they really knew their shit. Satisfied the risk was acceptable, he swung his rifle back over his shoulder and hit his combadge. "Looks clear ahead. Send a fire-team forward to scout ahead and wait for further orders."

"Roger, Colonel."

She knew him, she *knew* she would know him but it had been a while. Part of her wondered how he had been as of late. He looked dogged tired, but he always had a sense of exhaustion about him. The woman couldn't speak, but just attempted to move her head slightly.

He was about to pick her up when he noticed the edge of a dirt mound right below here neck, between her shoulders. Great, she was covering up a fucking landmine... just wonderful. His options now were to leave her where she was, knowing that it was likely the weather, the land-mine, the enemy, or some predator were likely to end her misery in order of likelihood knowing he would lose a life; or he could put two lives on risk, possibly get killed himself in the process.

For him, there wasn't an option.

He moved her cold hand from his, and let it rest on the crux of his shoulder. This was going to be a two-handed operation after-all, but he still didn't want her thinking he was leaving her behind. "I need you to stay perfectly still, understand?"

The only sound she could make was a gurgle, but inwardly she was laughing at the predicament. Only she would set something up like this and complicate it by landing herself on another land mine. God, she was good!

It was a painstaking process. Once activated, a modern pressure mine basically worked on the same principles as an ancient nuclear weapon, although on a 'much' smaller scale. The pressure activated a sensor, the sensor fed information to an initiator which began the process of pressurizing a small warhead to the point of super-critical mass. Once the trigger was released, the pressure ceased, and the result was a really big 'boom'. So long as the pressure was maintained, you'd be okay.

To start disarming, Fork drew his combat knife, and went about the laborious task of 'chiseling' his way to the base of the mine, clawing away mounds of hacked out dirt to gain access. Next he drew out his tricorder and his kit. He started by polarizing the base of the trigger in place, insuring the all important circuit was maintained. The tricorder indicating there was no 'back-up' mechanism in place. They were safe.

Barely suppressing a deep urge to sigh with relief, he noticed the prongs of the pressure sensor had become imbedded (albeit shallowly) into the woman's skin. It had to be removed. "This is going to hurt, okay? But stay with me, squeeze if you need to." He patted her hand reassuringly before continuing on, cutting the top portion of the pressure sensor off at the thinly exposed stem. That done he sat her up, careful to avoid any of the mines around them, and moving some of the shredded fabrics of her clothing and uniform aside, started to remove the latches prong by prong, almost like removing fish-hooks.

She simply closed her eyes as the pain started. It was more erotic than anything else, the way it coursed through her body. Groaning in agony, she opened her eyes to find them blood red. They were bleeding again from the corners. So, was the pain from the mine injuries or from the bio weapon the Breen had injected her with?

The urge to answer the question bit at her relentlessly. Taking care, she brought her right hand up and felt her left forearm. 'NOTHING!' She screamed in her head. Someone had triggered the injection and the capsule had denigrated. Now what? How was she supposed to get on board with the scanning devices she knew Krieghoff had in place? Damn...it was going to be a good and bloody battle.

"Christ!" She managed to scream.

Fork bit his lower lip as he removed the last prong. He couldn't exactly carry her 'and' watch where he was stepping (she was thin, but she was not thin enough to be transparent) simultaneously, and her legs were most definitely not up to functioning. One was broken in at least one place, probably fractured in others. Mines could do a lot of damage.

"Colonel, we're across." Leah's whispered voice cut through the silence. "The path is clear up ahead."

"Good work, I'm on my way." Fork packed up, setting his type II to a high (but not overly so) level. "Close your eyes and cover your ears, this is going to be loud."

'Not as loud as when I get on board the Galaxy....Fork.' She thought to herself as she offered him a lonely small nod with her head.

Here's hoping that if a tree fell in a forest, and nobody was around to hear it, it really 'didn't' make a sound. He aimed the type II at the base of a nearby, heavy timber tree, and fired. In less than a minute it was creaking and cracking at the base. Fork covered his 'patient's' body, protecting her from twigs, branches, and most of the pine needles. It was a makeshift bridge that would guarantee they could at least get out of the minefield, and back to the unit. "No additional injuries, right?" He asked her just to make sure.

"Not yet." She muttered.

By now gold had faded from the sky completely, and orange was right behind it. Red was the predominant color, but purple was quickly taking over and blue was right behind it while black was beginning to form on the fringes. He gave her a hypo of pain-killer, the only relief he could really offer her at this moment, before slipping his arms under her back and legs. Resting her arms against her chest, he picked her up and climbed up onto the log, walking over the bridge and to safe territory. He held her close when he made the leap from tree to ground, hoping not to make the landing 'too' rough. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was already wondering whom he could pawn her off on when his arms inevitably got tired.

"Damnation Alley"

Conclusion of 'Gunboat Diplomacy' Space Battle



With
Prince Thufi XXXIV
Captain Na'sav
Captain Rebecca von Ernst








Prince Thufi closed his trap....

"Now..." he blorbled in anticipation as R'lyeh cut in her sublight impellers not a dozen kalgaams from a scrambling Federation Battlecruiser, the USS Langley.

"All ships open fire."

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

(Bridge- USS Vigilant)

The small raiding force that had worked well as a diversion made it back to the main fleet literally at half strength. The fast destroyer and three gunboats took up a flanking position off the port bow of the starboard dreadnought... giving the crew of the bridge of the Vigilant it's first look at the force opposing them.

"Holy shit." Trissa muttered.

"Nothing holy about it, Ensign." The skipper shot back. The two fleets had given each other bloody noses... three transports for two gunboats and a destroyer... now the gloves came off. "Let our

transports know they sure as hell better finish unloading fast. All impulse engines ahead, maximum thrust. Take us on the following course..." his fingers treaded over the console with a light touch,

laying out for his crew a parabolic course that would keep them on the outer perimeter of the Hydran task force.

The Cruisers he knew his little ship stood a chance with... the dreadnoughts not so much. A few volleys from them, and they'd be running for the escape pods. Hence why it was important to keep the

Hydran cruisers between the Vigilant and the big baddies in the formation's center. They'd have to wait until Zeus was ready before making an attack run on one of the Dreadnoughts.

"Ready all weapons, fire at everything you get the opportunity to."

Zipping along, the Vigilant fired a salvo of phaser fire and torpedoes at the bow of the first light cruiser it came across. Behind her, the Jakarta made it's own attack run, the Saber class ship firing a trio of torpedoes and multiple phaser blasts.

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

(Flag-Bridge RHS R'lyeh)

Leaning forward in his Command Couch, Prince Thufi studied the gas-filled holo-tank before him. The Federation Battle line was shaping up slowly. True they were caught in 'shallow water' just as he planned, but they were climbing hard for open space.

"Ragged...." he mused to himself stroking his lower beak with a fore-tentacle. "There is little evidence of cohesion in their actions. War-Officer...analysis?"

A nearby tripod straightened to attention. "Yes my Prince. Intelligence indicates that the Task Force Commander is most likely Captain Vone Rnst....I think that's how you pronounce it...our agent in fleet

BuPers would seem to suggest she is new to fleet actions, having previously been used in solo-raiding

actions."

"Indeed." Thufi mused. "Much as have I….eh?"

The War-Officer shifted uncomfortably. True...up to now the Prince himself specialized in light raiding

aboard his beloved Slarrardo, but it wouldn't be wise to point out that deficiency.

Thufi blogled a 'Hrumph.' He was under no such illusions. This was also his first Fleet action in overall command. The notion was scary. Two Heavy fleets pounding away at each other with relative novices in overall command.

~~Very well Vone Rnst....shall we see whose breaking point is closer?~~

==========

It was a messy battle.

Two massive fleets going gunport to gunport in a short ranged slugfest that left jagged holes in the once pristine hulls of blue and white.

Atmosphere hissed into open space...

Durasteel vaporized into molten gas...

Crewmen of two legs and three screamed their final silent screams into the frozen darkness.

Thufi held his two Dreadnoughts in the center of his Line.

R'lyeh and Azathoth poured their heavy fire in all directions, effectively denying the center to the much lighter Federation Cruisers. They were the backstop he established in his base of fire.

In support there were two more Heavy cruisers and Thufi's old mount the Light Cruiser Slarrardo.

Screening duties were upheld by the three remaining Destroyers and the last of the gunboats.

He'd left his Carriers behind in the outer solar system to launch their fighters at extreme range.

For Rebecca, USS Langley and the Zeus itself were her heavies. Modern Akira and Prometheus class Battlecruisers respectively, they both had nearly the firepower of the larger ships, but not nearly the

staying power.

The remainder of her fleet rounded out on the cruisers Sa'forz and Speedwell with the Jakarta serving as

escort to the Langley.

At the other end of the spectrum was the Defiant class Vigilant which served as her only screen along

with the Old Battlecruiser Kaf'ek, an Excelsior class antique that barely matched more modern

lightweights.

She had more cruisers, but was notably weak at the Super Heavy and Super Light end of the weight

spectrum.

Going toe to toe with the Dreadnoughts was the insane thing to do.

So of course that's what she did.

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

(Bridge USS Zeus)

"I said closer!" the tiny redhead ordered clutching desperately to her oversized command chair.

"Go nose to nose with the big guys and let loose with everything you got! We stand off at a distance and

they'll trap us between their broadsides and the planet!"

<<We're gonna lose a lot of good men going in at point blank!>> crackled the response over the speakers.

"Well duh." she rolled her eyes. "That's what they're there for...break a few eggs and all that right?

just do it!"

Turning back to the swirling mass of equations before her, head screaming in pain and soul burning in her chest she showed it all aside in favor of the Math!

She'd have ordered one of her more useless ships....the Excelsior probably to make a kamikaze run on one

of the Dreadnoughts if she thought she could get away with it, but it seemed the rest of Starfleet had

this thing about sanity and all that.

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

(Bridge- USS Vigilant)

Na'sav wasn't particularly sure about his counterpart on the Zeus... it wasn't a question of her intellect or her sanity, he knew she had plenty of the first and enough of the latter to play a convincing enough role. What he doubted was her system of ethics and morals.

He watched the scene ahead with appalling terror, the Promethus class ship closing in bow to bow with one of the Hydran dreadnoughts. How many kids weren't going to get to write home to their parents tonight because one of starfleet's most beautiful minds had gone all kinds of homicidal? One way or another, she 'needed' to be stopped.

Rebecca Von Ernst was the kind of officer that would win you a million glorious battles... and find a way to lose the war... or at the least make you wish you had. That was what he was going to put in his after action report if he survived long enough to write one.

Which shifted his focus. They still had a fight to finish.

"Langley's port side shields are near collapse, they won't survive another salvo on that side."

"God damnit, 'someone' needed to at least make recommendations to the gathered CO's. You couldn't fight a pitched battle this way. "Ask the Kaf'ek if they can cover the Langley while she reforms. The Jakarta..."

"Too late sir." one of the Binars chirped in mechanical standard. "The Langley is disabled. All hands are abandoning ship."

Internally Na'sav growled. The Langley had a torpedo firepower equivalent to half a dozen normal starships. They were lucky that the planet below was already in their hands, it saved them from having to worry about the Langley's fighter and aux craft complements. "Then tell the Kal'ek they need to pick up the survivors. Ask the Jakarta to run interference for them. We'll follow Zeus. someone's got to protect la diabla roja over there."

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

(Bridge USS ZEUS)

"Kal'ek's breaking off to pick up survivors…." Panic reported dutifully.

"What?" Rebecca's eye popped open from her figuring and noted as a whole section of her equation was wiped off the screen by the unexpected move. "What Noodlehead gave that order?" she demanded.

Fear cleared her throat…"Well the Vigilant has been…." she started only to be cut off with a wave of the hand.

"Belay that." Rebecca grumped, "And tell Kal'ek to get back into line….I need the Langley disabled and sitting right where she is."

Punching angrily at the repeater screens she doodled up a new set of equations from scratch… "There are still transports in the lower orbit and with Langley disabled and dead in the water up here, she serves as a big fat shield between them and the Dreadnoughts. If she's disabled they may ignore her….maybe…maybe not, but the important thing is she can soak up some fire for the troops downstairs."

Fear and Panic glanced at each other. It was sure sign of Rebecca's frustration that she was bothering to explain anything to them. Usually she just gave orders and too bad if you didn't understand why.

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

(Flag Bridge RHS R'lyeh)

"Federation Battlecruiser disabled my Price." came the triumphant gleek, "She's launching lifeboats now…shall I finish her off?"

"Cease fire." Thufi clicked noisily. "Shift broadsides to their Flagship, we'll come back to the cripples once this is all done."

The purple methane swirled bridge shuddered from an intense volley, but the Dreadnought's shields held.

He hadn't expected the Feddies to go point blank with him…and certainly it delayed his assault on the valuable transports in low orbit, but so much the better for the opportunity to take out the main task force.

"Prepare to come about…." Thufi blorked.

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

(Bridge- USS Vigilant)

"Hydran dreadnought coming about at 017 mark 003." Trissa called out, her hands busily rerouting resources to their necessary destinations. It was tougher than one might expect... given the Defiant class ship's unique design, you had to be equally worried about routing 'too much' power to systems as you were about not getting them enough. If you weren't careful you could very easily overload your own weapons' systems.

"Shields down to 70%" Bynar 2 (Izer) reported.

"Target evaluation complete. Zeus had inflicted significant damage to starboard dreadnought's starboard shielding." Bynar 1 (Azer) clicked in soon afterwards.

Na'sav recognized an opening when he saw one. A solid strafing run along the dreadnought's starboard side might give enough of an opening to land some heavy hits against it's equally heavily armored hull. "Ready all weapons and prepare for an attack run. We'll start on the Dreadnought and then hit the light cruiser on it's rear. Everything you've got Azer."

The little ship leapt forward at high-impulse, it's impellers making it virtually impossible for the Hydran ships to catch it, or even for the gunners to train their weapons on it. Vigilant closed the distance with the R'lyeh within seconds, pouring multiple salvos of pulse and beam phaser fire, and no less than a dozen quantum torpedoes hit the big vessel's shields, the last one of which apparently found a momentary gap in the behemoth warship's defenses and struck exposed hull near to it's starboard impeller assembly.

Vigilant didn't go unscathed. The little ship was battered by knicks and hits from fusion cannons of all calibers. The engineering console and plasma conduit behind it on the bridge erupted, sending a Vulcan man to the deck badly wounded by shrapnel and severe burns. Automated damage control systems kicked in, reducing plasma flow pressure to the damaged station and finally sealing off the ruptured artery to prevent plasma leaking. Hissing let them know that the ultra-hot gas dissipated and cooled almost immediately.

"Shields down to 30%" Izer grimaced.

"We have casualties reported on Decks 1, 2, and 4. The Doc is on it.... we also have minor damage to the power distribution network on decks 3, 4, and 5. Engineering is re-routing to auxiliary distribution systems, and damage control teams are responding."

Na'sav nodded in Trissa's direction. "Shield generators get top priority. We're not out of this yet. Let Zeus know the road is clear for another assault."

"Weapons re-armed and locked on target." Azer clicked.

"Target their power generation systems. Maximum yield on all weapons, minimum safety range. Fire."

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

The RHS Azathoth was an old ship. Built in what the Federation would refer to as the 2350's it was from an era where the Royal Hydran Navy had emphasized heavy hitting and armor over maneuverability and stealth.

None of the above helped the Federation seeing as the aforementioned heavy hitting and armor was allowing the 'Idiot God' to deal out some crippling blows at point blank range.

Thufi had chosen to add it to his feet for just this purpose….while he could command from the newer more maneuverable R'Lyeh, the Azathoth would be the big brother to deal out the pain.

The battle was shaping up nicely…..perhaps not very pretty, and it would certainly never go down in history as one of the classic naval battles of all time, but it served his purposes.

The Prince gave a satisfied click as he watched the Intrepid Class Fast Cruiser erupt in a hale of Purple Hellbores.

Between the two Dreadnoughts there was just too much firepower for the Feddies to withstand.

So of course it was a shock when that damned redhead took away half his fleet.

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

(Bridge USS ZEUS)

"You heard what I said! " Rebecca thumped her chair angrily, hanging on for dear life in the variable gravity. "Give me an intercept course on that biggest ship and redline the impulse engines!!"

Her face was bleeding badly.

Half her tiny mathematical repeater screens had shorted out in a shower of metal and glass that somehow had missed taking out one of her eyes.

The pain in her cheek however was nothing compared to the death knell in her head, or the screaming in her heart….Just before the screen shorted she computed a way to win….again damnit!

Tapping in minute course correction into her own command console, Rebecca guided the battle scarred Zeus in a flurry of twists that would have made the tiny Vigilant proud.

Arcing through the dust and debris that was once the USS Speedwell she emerged trailing crimson fire barely a 100k from the massive Azathoth…still spitting out purple death to all who came near.

"P…p….prepare to overload Warp C..c..core." Rebecca stuttered.

~~~Noodles!!…I'm stuttering again..~~~ her burning mind raged. ~~Haven't done that in months~~~

It was the final rebellion of her humanity against the glowing numbers dancing before her eyes.

She was human damnit!

But humans had a monopoly on damnation.

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

(RHS Azathoth)

"Federation Battlecruiser entering range Captain." reported the War Officer aboard the Azathoth, "Close intercept course…predict she will veer off at 5 kalagams and retreat along reciprocal course."

The Captain nodded. Brave but useless….She'd inflict heavy damage in such a close call no doubt, but lose her own command at the same time….the battle would still be won by his Prince.

"Weapons….overload Fusion Cannons and prepare to fire as she bears…." he gogged.

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

(Bridge USS ZEUS)

"Captain…..Rebecca." Panic's soft voice cut through the din of alarms and red lights, "You don't have to do this…."

Turning at the sound of her name, Rebecca studied her two XO's as if they were strangers. Blood trailed down her face forgotten for a moment "I…I…have to win Panic……Teresa….I….I don't know how t..to do anything else."

The world seemed to slow into a dull roar….even without the repeater screens equations and formulas danced before her brown eyes.

~~~So pretty….so perfect~~~

As the Zeus barreled in closer and closer towards the ship three times her size…..and showing no sign of slowing, Fear and Panic looked at each other….and felt the chilling emotions for which they were names.

"Please don't…."one of them asked….nobody remembered who

"I have too…the math cant lie….so pretty….."

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

(Bridge RHS Azathoth)

"She's not veering off!" the Navigation Officer Gleeked with sudden panic.

The Azathoth's Captain felt a sudden stab of fear…."Surely not…." he blortled.

But the Nav-Screens didn't lie…..they worked off of math too.

"GREESAYAH's TENTACLES!! All power to shields…evasive….evasive!!!" he cried.

But as mentioned…Azathoth was not built to maneuver.

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

(FLAG BRIDGE RHS R'lyeh)

Thufi saw it happen in a moment of clarity and knew instantly the battle was lost….

"So unfair…..so close ……."

He was already reaching to make the call for retreat when it happened.

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

(Zeus/Azathtoth)

The Hull separation occurred at the last possible moment. Zeus…as a Prometheus class vessel had the ability to separate into three fully functional, warp capable warships at a moments notice.

Normally Fear and Panic would each command a separate ship as Rebecca commanded the third…..but that's not what happened here.

The separation ability was a feature that Rebecca had largely ignored over the years…she preferred to keep the extra power of three individual Warp Core's all together to give Zeus the extra punch she needed.

Besides…..she wasn't any good at directing multiple ships.

The bottom third of the Zeus dropped away barely 20kilometers from the Azathoth and while Rebecca, Fear, Panic and the rest pulled away in a high G braking maneuver, the bottom third barreled ahead at a significant fraction of the speed of light.

This of course came as somewhat of a shock to the 1/3 of the crew who were still aboard and quite unable to quickly reroute the quantum Math lockouts the Captain had erected around their computer access…..

She locked them in!!

They weren't important her dead soul told her.

The Warp Core and antimatter pods still aboard was important.

Simple.

The mathematical equation burning in her heart balanced out to zero as the ships struck.

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

At superluminal speeds it hardly mattered if the Zeus's hull was made of Steel or jello….anything striking that hard was going to hurt.

It just so happened it was made of pale white Duranium, with loaded Quantum Torpedo Racks and an overloaded Warp Core.

A hundred years ago a young officer asked a grizzled old Engineer if self destructing the Main Engines would affect an alien Probe ¼ the mass of the moon.

"Aye laddie," the Engineer assured him sadly, "When that much matter and antimatter come together, it will indeed."

Azathoth wasn't that big.

Blue and white hulls merged in a screaming inferno of nuclear fire and cursing souls. One could almost hear the Idiot God himself laughing as the death of ironies met the combined Hydran and Federation crews.

As they died, torn apart by hideous radiation and fire the crews were united in a way….Human and Hydran alike died screaming….died cursing a small redheaded farm girl from Minnesota who doomed them all.

They'd have to stand in line.

She had lots of demons waiting for her.

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

Later Textbooks revealed the Battle above AS-128 as a tactical draw.

In the aftermath of losing one of his Dreadnoughts, Prince Thufi XXXIV withdrew the remainder of his fleet beyond the planets moon to rest and repair.

Captain von Enst was carried from the bridge comatose, after having collapsed from blood loss, and Commander Teresa 'PANIC' Church assumed command and withdrew the last few Federation ships from orbit as well.

The Planetary Ground Campaign would continue for some time, eventually resulting as a major victory for the Federation, but the great starships never clashed over AS-128 again.

Later, Thufi took R'lyeh back to the Hydran homeworld, and the tales of his subsequent victories are well documented in the Official Histories of the Hydran Monarchy

USS Zeus…or the 2/3 of her that remained was eventually moved to space dock in the coming weeks, and the entire crew reassigned, scattered amongst the fleet having sworn oaths of secrecy.

In retrospect there wasn't a worse way to keep a secret as the rumor of the treachery at AS-128 spread.

But that is another story.

"Meet and Greet"

Lieutenant Darkstar
Ensign Hok
NPC Receptionist

Location: Lobby of the Navigation offices.

Hok stepped into the reception area of the offices of the
Navigation department. Normally, he did a quick look-see of
the surroundings when he was in a new place for the first
time, but this time, he didn't. Hok had heard rumors about
his department head, Darkstar, so he wanted to make a good
first impression. Looking directly at the yeoman sitting at
the desk, a cute Hew-mon woman with long, brown hair and
striking, brown eyes, he walked towards her and stopped in
front of her desk.

"I'm Ensign Hok, the new Conn officer. I'm here to see
Lieutenant Darkstar."

The yeoman studied Hok for a second with those striking,
brown eyes, then tapped the console of her computer.

"Yes, we've been expecting you. Please have a seat."

A seat? Why should he have a seat?

"Yes, ma'am." Hok started to turn away.

"I'm a yeoman and you're an officer," said the receptionist.
"You don't call me, ma'am."

Hok paused and looked at those striking, brown eyes, a
sheepish expression on his face. "I'll be sitting down now."

The yeoman sighed and shook her head. When Hok had taken
his seat, she tapped her console again. Hok could hear a
buzzing sound from behind the closed office door of the
chief of the department.

"Ensign Hok is here to see you, sir," said the receptionist.

A few moments died a long and agonizing death before the
door behind the receptionist buzzed and opened slightly.

"Chief Darkstar will see you now," the receptionist said,
then added, "and, Ensign, look at your feet if you get
nauseous. It helps."

"Um, okay," said Hok as he stood. Smiling at those
striking, brown eyes, he approached the slightly-opened
door. Peeking inside, he saw that it was dark. With a
sigh, he entered.

Inside, Hok was surprised to find himself standing on the
saucer section of the Galaxy, as it moved through space.

Whoa! This was incredible, thought Hok. I could charge
people admission to come see this.

After growing accustomed to the sensory input, he saw the
imposing figure of Darkstar, sitting in a chair atop of
where the bridge would be.

Darkstar had yet to recover completely from the mauling he
took from the Gorn on the bridge and the criss-crossed scars
on his face seemed to glow in the man-made starlight. With
his good arm he gestured to the Ferengi.

"Name?"

"Ensign Hok, sir." Direct and to the point, he thought.

"Have you ever flown anything larger then a shuttle craft
before?"

"Yes, sir. An Akira class, on my cadet cruise."

Darkstar stood up from his chair and loomed over the Ferengi.

Darkstar was larger than Hok had originally thought!

"Are you prepared to defend yourself from attacks at any
given moment?"

Hok gulped. He had barely passed the combat training
curriculum at the academy. He wondered if he would have
time to run back out of the office, if Darkstar came after him.

"Yes, sir," said Hok, not quite convinced.

The Chief stared directly at him for a long moment.

"All of the Conn officers are combat certified. If the
bridge is overrun by invaders, the Captain is the first
target. The pilot is always the second. We train with
ship's Marine compliment. You will report to the gym at
17:00," he said.

Marine training? Hok wanted nothing to do with that. He
*was* combat certified, after all.

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," the Indian ordered and sat back down into his
chair.

Gladly, thought Hok.

"Yes, sir."

Hok spun sharply on his heels and quickly exited the office.
When the door clicked closed behind him, he sighed and
searched for those striking, brown eyes.

"I told you," said the receptionist, a broad smile
accompanying her striking, brown eyes.

"Marine training," said Hok. "Where's the profit in that?
Unless...." Hok beamed a smile, as an idea flashed in his mind.

Hide and Seek, Part 3 (final)

Ensign Relsta

Just after moonrise

And she thought being invisible had been bad. Invisible and non-corporeal simply took the cake.

She couldn't even sit in a tree anymore. Well, she could sit in a tree, but that wouldn't exactly be the emotionally comforting experience she needed at the moment.

Relsta took a swipe at a cluster of flowers, just to check. Her hand went right through, with the barest sensation of a shiver.

'Maybe I'm a ghost?' She didn't remember dying. Shouldn't you remember how you died?

Relsta poked at her rear end, which was no doubt going to be one huge bruise from her trip through the tree. Ghosts definitely didn't get bruises. And ghosts didn't suddenly develop the ability to move through things--that came with the package from the beginning.

'So, I'm not a ghost. I'm just...disappearing. I'm actually....fading away...'

The Denobulan had been rubbing her hands unconsciously, as if trying to prove they were solid, but at the mental image of fading gradually, she stopped, staring dead ahead as an epiphany hit her.

"I'm changing..." she spoke aloud for the first time in hours. "Being here made me change, and...I might not be the only one!" Relsta had started in a choked whisper, but by the end, she was laughing in excitement, dancing through the reeds—literally—in celebration. "Why didn't I think of this before?" Her imaginary T'Pei raised an eyebrow in agreement at that last point, and she spun around in mock anger, looking for all the world like she was pointing a finger at the nearest tree. "You—and what help have you been? Why didn't you help me think of this? And just where did you go? You left me all alone all night!"

Relsta was hugely relieved that her friend had reappeared. Denobulans viewed seeing visions and hearing voices as one of the healthiest ways to cope with high stress situations, but she had been far too despondent for the past few hours to properly hallucinate.

Plus, it turned out that yelling at an imaginary T'Pei felt just about as good as yelling at the real one.

The moon had risen, and there was enough light that travel would be safe. Relsta set off immediately, not wanting to wait a single moment. She had at least a full day's worth of ground to cover to get back to the crash sight, which was the most likely place to find any others who had changed.

Now that she had a plan, Relsta was, predictably, nothing if not optimistic. If this had happened to people other than her, than surely someone on Galaxy would be smart enough to figure out that not all of them had been eaten—her money was on Lieutenant Kara'nin. And, if he figured it out, then surely anyone else besides him would care enough to stay and find them!

With this much improved attitude, Relsta was even able to enjoy her new, non-corporeal status, rapidly determining that stealthy travel is much easier when you can move straight through things. She also discovered, from a rather painful meet-and-greet between her shin with a rock, that she could not walk through everything. After this revelation, the Ensign had been more cautious, testing a wide variety of plants and even animals as she passed. Thus far, she couldn't find a pattern of any sort--this tree she could walk through, that one was completely solid, this grass was solid, that rock was...

"How fascinating," the Denobulan breathed, crouching down cautiously as if any fast movements would startle away the scene in front of her. There was a rock growing...out of a tree. The rock was not embedded in the trunk, it looked more like they were overlapping, somehow. Relsta reached forward, fingertips breaking the surface of the rock. Pressing further, her eyes widened as she found herself stroking the bark through the rock. Her instincts urged her to remove her hand and keep walking, to find the others, but the scientist in her wanted nothing more than to solve this puzzle. Could whatever was affecting her have also changed the rock? How was she similar to the rock, but not the tree? Or, what if she and the tree had changed, leaving the rock solid...except to them. Relsta let her hand fall out of the rock, sighing. Speculation was useless until she could ascertain what it was that had happened to her. She reluctantly got to her feet, sparing one last look back at the rock and moving on.

Once she had noticed the phenomenon, she saw it everywhere. What she had previously thought was a cluster of flowers turned out to be nearly identical flowers overlapping each other, some solid, some not. There were bushes which grew in almost--but not quite--the exact same spot, creating a blurry shadow which made her feel as if her pupils were dilated. But the most striking experience occurred in the very early morning, just before dawn. Relsta had headed due south, and for the past hour, had walked along a ridge that seemed to signal the edge of the jungle. She entered a clearing very recently scorched by wild fire. Burnt remains of tree trunks littered the ground, and not even moss had yet taken hold in the barren earth.

Relsta blinked, not believing her eyes. Amidst the rubble a forest was growing. Dozens upon dozens of tall trees, so tall that they must have been growing here for over one hundred Earth years. It was impossible. A scorched wasteland and a thriving old growth forest could not be in the same place...Speechless, Relsta wandered through the clearing, finding that she could walk through all of the living trees, while the dead ones were solid. Even more surreal, the living trees would occasionally fade slightly, shimmering in the air like sometime from a poorly made holodeck program. Before her eyes, one shimmering tree melted into nothingness. With renewed urgency, Relsta pushed forward, away of the grove and the unsettling future it foreshadowed.

At sunrise, it began to rain, as if the planet obstinately wanted to delay the break of day for as long as it could. It started with a single splash of cold in her hand as the droplet passed through. She saw it fall, touch the skin on her palm, and then, milliseconds later, emerge on the other side to fall and wet the grass, while she remained perfectly dry. The sensation was eerie, like her blood had turned to ice water and was rushing out of her body through her skin.

The downpour intensified, and now she was pierced by hundreds of icy darts as the tiny droplets raced through her body. The cold was unceasing. It burned in every nerve, painfully overwhelming her senses, and Relsta staggered sideways, holding her arms above her in an attempt to shield herself from the onslaught. It was futile--the rain just passed straight through her arms and then into her body.

She dove into a tree, but the cold of staying suspended inside of the trunk was only slightly more bearable than the droplets. Relsta knew her core temperature was dropping dangerously. If she didn't find shelter soon, she would become hypothermic. Deciding not to risk the unknown, she turned back the way she had come. About ten minutes before she had seen a small cave set into the ridge. She could find shelter there until the storm passed. Sprinting, the Denobulan covered the distance in six minutes, but despite being out of the rain and completely dry, she still shivered uncontrollably. Leaning against the wall of the cave's opening, Relsta said a small thank you that the rocks in this cave were solid, and could protect her from the rain.

Unfortunately, Relsta would live to regret those words.

Fortunately, Relsta would live to regret those words.

Because at that moment, the Universe, fickle woman that she is, chose to give Relsta exactly what she had hoped for most: company.

And they were more than willing to show her exactly how solid the rocks were.

"Monster"
Lilly Stone AKA Faylin McAlister

Planet 128

==============================
Slightly, the small groan escaped the woman's dry lips. As her body slowed down in an attempt to repair itself, her mind busied itself with memories that the woman did not want to relive as she drifted in and out of consciousness on a makeshift Marine bed.

*******
"Help me get you out of my mind. Tell me something cruel, anger me, just something to get rid of the memories. Please." McAlister was not one to plead, yet she felt backed against the wall. Her eyes shot him a look of desperation as she looked at Bental.

"Faylin.", He took a step forward, reaching for her hand. He regretted it in mid-motion, retrieving his hand to its proper place.

"Wish I had anything to say, but listen - even if there was nothing in our way, you'd get bored eventually and move on to the next guy. One of the reasons we hit it off so well is because neither of us can sit on our butts for too long."

******
McAlister yanked her ponytail tighter as she grinned. "Hi!" She stated in a rather annoying perky tone. "Who are you?"

Raynor silently cursed, now he had to be all socially... then he became cheerful from his neutral expression. "Ensign Zev Raynor... Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer... and you?"

McAlister bit back a laugh as she viewed his expression.

"Ensign Faylin McAlister.....Judge advocate. Please don't be chipper on my account, honestly, it does you no justice." She had to wonder if the academy taught the intelligence officers to have a stoic face constantly, or if they all just needed a powerful Ferengi laxative.

*********

Nara nodded, still unsure what to do with the information. "Ok." After an awkward silence, she sounded a bit worried, "You're the JAG officer."

"Yes, that I am." Faylin stated with a hint of venom to her tone. She waved off concern, inwardly content that she heard worry in Nara's voice. McAlister knew she was a bitch, but, she didn't care. The true essence of the woman started to surface. She did not just earn a reputation as a vixen, she earned a reputation as the lowest, sneakiest, backhanded, most vicious attorney of the bunch at headquarters. Emotions meant nothing to her, except where her daughter was concerned. Men and women both were to be used for her pleasure, advancement, and disposal when she was finished. Her eyes flashed as her mentally switched. Standing, she nodded to Nara as she still sat.

"I have to get going." Turning to leave, she permitted an evil grin to cross her features. She paused, turned to face Nara and spoke. "If Saul seems a little more passionate these days, you can thank memories of me for that." With a confident step, she exited Ten-Forward.

*******
"What the hell did we do last night Aerv?" Panic rose in her voice.

"Yes," Aerv murmured in a tired, thoughtful manner. He rose into something approximating a sitting position, and managed a slight frown. "We may have had a little too much to drink."

"Do you think so?" McAlister responded in an utterly sarcastic tone. She paused. "Fuck"

"Well...and we did that too...." tr'Ahalaen replied with a soft chuckle.

*******

"Fay, there's been an accident." Miramon didn't know the exact details, but according to the security officer that had accompanied him, some piece of heavy furniture had fallen on the girl and the trauma had been responsible for her death. How did you convey that to a parent without sounding as though you were reciting a mission report? "Olivia was hit by heavy furniture and, well, there was really no way she could have survived the impact. I really am sorry, but there was nothing anybody could do."

Faylin shook her head, her voice lowered, with a sense of pure evilness in it's tone. "Don't touch me!" Reaching up, she shoved the Bajoran's hand from her shoulder. McAlister started to back up, still shaking her head, her eyes glowing with anger. "You're a liar!"

****

"Where is she?" Faylin repeated in a venomous tone.

"In sickbay. The damage was...extensive." He'd hesitated to say that, but there obviously wouldn't be any way to restrain her from walking out that door unless he was inclined to stay there for a few days. "The doctors are doing what they can to minimise the damage so you can conduct whatever funeral rituals you prefer."

Silence accompanied her as she stood, making her way back to Olivia's bedroom. Her hands flew up to her mouth as the tears presented themselves yet again. "Oh." Walking over to Olivia's little bed, Faylin gently lifted her favorite blanket to her face, inhaling the sweet, innocent scent of her daughter. Just a few days ago, she slept peacefully and securely not far from her mother. Her dreams of far off lands, pink and bright, with fairies dancing would occur no more. Sitting on the bed for a moment, Faylin wept for the loss of her baby girl. Emerging from the bedroom, she held the blanket, cradling it in her arms. Looking up at the security guard, she spoke. "I brought her home......in this......I want it with her...."

"That's okay, Fay. We can arrange that easily enough," Miramon said, softly. He had a feeling that the brazen anger that had existed a moment ago had dissipated now. All that would be left was grief, which was natural enough. Neither he nor T'Rei moved, but instead simply remained standing there, waiting to see what Faylin would do next. Even if she didn't notice them, it would be better, to his mind, if they remained. Certainly he wasn't going to leave her alone in this state.

Turning, she let herself truly feel the loneliness as it invaded her quarters. It's harsh darkness swept the little girl's laughter and delight from the rooms, leaving the atmosphere barren and desolate. Faylin's breath left for a moment as well, as she felt the cold breeze leave the room just as it came in. The air of death was about all of them, wrapping itself around McAlister and violently squeezing the joy, happiness, and contentment out of her. It left her a shell of the woman she just was a few moments before.

*********

The day was coming soon. The day, where the rest of the crew would know what it felt to loose someone. Whether that someone was a fellow crewmember, wife, mother, son, daughter, aunt, uncle, friend, lover….that did not matter. The fact remained that it was coming like a thief in the night. The reaper of grimness knew when it was going to strike, how it was going to strike, and why it was going to strike. Olivia was the warm up for the main event. The little girl served the purpose of flexing its muscles. It hovered just outside in space, its shadow large, yet unknowing in its true form. It held its grasp on the ships and the planet with a firmness that no one could deny. Patiently, it waited for the time to strike. Evilness fed its desire, passion ebbed it on. If it could just taste the sweetness of the new souls that it fed upon, it would be satisfied. Yet, the time had not come. The hunger for soul food grew with each passing moment. The delicate morsel of the girl's soul was but a nibble of the feast that it had planned for itself. Destiny was the child it held next to its skeleton chest. Soon, it would release Destiny and feed on the souls its child decided to pick for it.

Faylin felt the darkness, she felt death, and she felt the Reaper. All three had been her bedfellows for the past few days, uninviting themselves in to her life with such force she had no strength to fight them. McAlister invited them in, let them sleep, eat, and devourer her with such determination that they kept by her to feed their needs. One day, she thought, she would have the strength to fight them off, to kick them to the curb so to speak. However, that day was not today. As morbid as it sounded, she felt comfortable with them. The evils kept her company, even if it was miserable. She felt an odd sort of peace with them there. They could do no more damage to her from what they had already done. Peace, be still. No matter if the peace was birthed from lightness or darkness. To Faylin, it was peace none the less.

*********
"Oh, you are as far from a saint now with your words. I thought I could come to you for comfort. However, I see that you are more concerned with the future instead of the now. Boy, you've changed, for the worst in my opinion. You remember Risa? In the public pool at midnight? That was spontaneous....the wild Saul that I knew back then let nothing stop him in getting what he wanted. Fine, if you are content with your boring little life on this ship, so be it from me to try and force you to remember how hot we were together to try and help me. You have let all the life drain out of you. Oh, and last time I checked, you are not married. Your nothing but a pale, lifeless, boring Intell officer. What a waste you turned out to be."

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

Upon arriving at security, her eyebrow instantly shot into a Vulcan position as she viewed the security officer. "I have an appointment with Corgan."

Unfortunately for the aforementioned JAG officer, the person on duty was none other than Allison Jimsdottir, who locked Faylin with a disapproving stare.

"Uh.....like I dont think so."

Call her suspicious, but the thought of a lady dressed like a streetwalker going in to have a private meeting with HER James Corgan was just not going to fly with Alli.

"Yes, I do think so..... If you check your little data padd there....yep, that one. You will see that I have an appointment already booked with the Chief."

While Faylin was talking, Alli was running her eyes up the officer's rather skimpy outfit.......Stiletto heels.......Miniskirt......Silk top. There wasn't too many ways to interpret that. ~~~Besides.....that top SO does not go with her hair color...HEL-lo~~~

**********
"What?" Saul's mind quickly made the connection. "How did you get that report?"

"I'd love to say that I'm as resourcefull as Intell, however, I'm not. I transfered from JAG to security while tensions are high. They could use the extra help."

"I see. Faylin--" Saul spoke quietly. "Olivia... you know how she died. It was not painless."

"I just recieved a copy of the autopsy report.....Olivia was injected with a ricin hybrid....in the crux of her arm. Hence....painless death! Tell me why you didn't think this important enough to look into it yourself instead of passing it to security? It states.....you recieved this two days before it happened Saul. Why didn't you put a rush on it....? Do you realize YOU could have saved her?"

Saul didn't flinch. "It's security's job to deal with these cases, and I passed it to them without delay. We didn't even know the trasmission was directed to the Galaxy. If you want to blame anyone, blame the babysitter."
****************

"Yes. I got a lovely visit in my office yesterday. A very pissed off CMO and a counselor about ready to come over here and rip a marine a new asshole. Needless to say, I heard them out, and then came here and talked to the accuser. I have both interviews recorded." She paused. "Did you, tell one Lieutenant Branwen London, that Anjoli D'Bari used her pheromones on her?

"Marines could use another asshole." She stated in a matter of fact tone. "I had security take a statement from her. Branwen stated that she believed that D'Bari used pheromones on her."

"Did you ask her how she knew that?" Gwyin asked "Because in my interview with her, she said you told her."

"I suggested, I didn't tell her. She took the information I gave her concerning the species and did what she wanted with it."

"Right" Gwyin said coldly. "You gave information on a species to a supposed rape victim and then the poor girl goes running off on it and adding it to make the case seem worse." She drew breath. "Lt. Commander D'Bari, takes medication. Its well documented in her file, that the medication is pheromone suppressant. Drops the level of Pheromone to zero." She looked at the JAG officer. "It is the duty of a JAG officer to hear the facts, not to give leading suggestions to those who are considered a victim about the supposed rapist."

"General information on a species is available anywhere Commander. Let's get a grasp on reality, shall we?"

******
"Steven, nothing about me is nice and easy............................."

"Have you never done it nice and slow? Or are you an 'always doing it quick and rough' kind of woman?" Steven asked.

"Slow bores me Steven. Besides, being aggressive is a good trait to have. It gets you what you want."

******

A dark moan yet again as a young Marine glanced a concern look down at her.

"Miss......are you in pain?"

She nodded, for the pain she felt was more than physical. It was also a mental pain that reminded her that some time in her life, she was indeed human and not the monster that she had become.

"Know Your Enemy"

Lt. Victor Krieghoff

Lt. JG T'Pei

Ensign Veronica Nila

CPO Hope Cannon

****

USS Galaxy

Deck 8

Exobiology Lab

=/\=Krieghoff to Transporter Room Three.=/\=

=/\=Transporter Room Three.=/\=

=/\=Is it still there, Chief?=/\=

=/\=Yes! And it's disgusting! It keeps oozing on the pad – can I beam it into space? Please? I may not be able to eat meat for a month after this, poor Upchurch, and Commander Smith!=/\=

=/\=No space, Chief, but I'll be wanting you to beam it to Sciences in a few minutes.=/\=

=/\=Is that a few *real* minutes, or just a figure of speech?=/\=

=/\=Real minutes, Chief. No more than ten – I'm about to get to Deck Eight now, I'll get you a Lab to beam it to ASAP.=/\=

=/\=Okay – but if this thing isn't gone in ten minutes, I'm beaming it into your office!=/\=

=/\=Ten minutes, tops, Chief… and thank you.=/\=

=/\= For not beaming this thing into space?=/\=

=/\=No. For staying on the job and pulling people out when the recall came after what happened earlier with Gary. Especially for staying and pulling Commander Smith out without being ordered to when her combadge signaled; you probably saved her life.=/\=

=/\=Oh… you're welcome… But this thing still lands in your office in nine minutes and thirty seconds.=/\=

=/\=Got it, Chief.=/\=

Victor rounded the corner and didn't stop as he reached the Sciences main doors and they slid open. Two steps inside, he paused, looked around, and zeroed in on an ensign with a clipboard moving between labs. "Ensign, I need an exobiologist and a lab, please."

The woman stopped, blanched slightly, and asked hesitantly, "Do we get them back when you're done?"

"Get them back?"

"The exobiologist?" she offered tentatively.

"Ah... yes," Victor agreed, explaining further, "I've got a specimen from the planet I need analyzed ASAP."

"Oh!" She backed up a step, then another, and relaxed a little as she reached the edge of his effect on her. "Lab Four is set up for that and it's free…"

Without waiting for more information, Victor tapped his combadge. =/\=Krieghoff to Transporter Room Three. Beam it to Sciences Lab Four, Chief.=/\=

=/\=Oh thank God! It's headed there now – I'm dropping it on the lab table.=/\=

Victor looked at the ensign who nodded. =/\=Thank you again, Chief.=/\=

=/\=It's there now – and you're welcome. But you owe me big for this one; it's going to take a week to get the smell out of here. Cannon out.=/\=

"Halfway there," Victor said, turning back to the ensign, "Ensign…?"

"Nila, Sir. Veronica Nila."

"All right Veronica, now about my exobiologist?"

Veronica frowned and bit her lip. "Ummm… that's harder, sir. Ordinarily, Commander Kara'nin would assign someone, but he's wrapped up in a 'Do Not Disturb' experiment trying to figure out where the people that vanished went. I'd get 8-Ball – I mean, Lieutenant T'Pol to do it, but…."

"8-Ball is fine – it's the name she prefers; and I already know she's one of the vanished," Victor nodded. "Likewise, I know Artim is missing too. Who does that leave?"

"Exobiologists? In Sciences?" she shook her head. "No topflight personnel. Sandoval's your man if it's a plant, but…?" She looked at him hopefully.

"Animal," Victor returned. And what was that about 'in Sciences?'"

"Well… there's an exobiologist in Operations – a damned good one – but you'd have to clear reassigning Lieutenant T'Pei with Commander K'aa. The human one," she clarified needlessly.

"All right," Victor nodded. "I'll get on the horn to him right now."

****

USS Galaxy

Deck 9

Operations Offices

A schematic display of the area near the crash site glowed above the work table, tiny lights marking the paths of the away teams. White dots for those who had safely returned to the ship, blue for those who had...disappeared. No matter how long she gazed at the display, and despite the information on the mountains of PADDs that surrounded her, T'Pei could find no pattern, nothing to explain why only certain paths led to blue.

=/\=K'aa to T'Pei.=/\=

The Vulcan raised a surprised eyebrow. The Commander's shift had ended several hours before, and given the number of hours he had spent in here with her before that, she would have expected him to be asleep.

=/\=T'Pei here, Commander.=/\=

=/\= Lieutenant Krieghoff has requested your assistance in conducting a necropsy on an animal carcass from the planet. It appears that you are the only experienced exobiologist currently aboard.=/\=

She noted the irritation in the Commander's voice, and she wondered just how poorly the conversation with the Security Chief had gone.

=/\= Prepare a summary of your findings on the disappearances thus far and send it to me on the hour. I told him you would meet him in Sciences Lab Four at that time. =/\=

=/\=Understood, sir. =/\=

=/\=When the procedure is completed, your priority is this investigation, Lieutenant. I will take over your bridge duties for the time being.=/\=

The man sounded exhausted, and T'Pei was reminded that his body was still recovering from a long regimen of neglect and abuse.

=/\= Commander, if I may speak freely...I am capable of going without rest for longer periods than humans are. =/\= There was a sharp intake of breath at the word 'human'. =/\=Your duty shift ended four and a half hours ago. Perhaps it would be prudent for you to rest. =/\=

Exercising some prudence of her own, the Vulcan signed off before K'aa could reply.

****

52 minutes later, the Deck 8 turbolift doors hissed open to reveal Victor Krieghoff glowering in front of the main doors to the Sciences area, rather than at the designated meeting place. Neither the demeanor nor the location was wholly unexpected, T'Pei mused, given recent events and the Lieutenant's radius of influence, respectively.

"Lieutenant Krieghoff," she began, nodding politely.

"Lieutenant," he nodded in return. "The specimen is in Lab 4. Ensign Nila engaged the stasis locks on the lab table to prevent further cellular decay, although it was without that measure for…" he checked his PADD "…4.57 hours. I have some material that I can relate as you work, or before, whichever will be best for you?"

T'Pei studied the Security Chief, mildly impressed with the question. In her experience, most humans were unwilling to have their audience engaged in any activity beyond listening to them. "I understand that this is a matter of some urgency. It would be most efficient if I see the specimen immediately, while you pass on your information."

Leading the way through the main doors, T'Pei wound her way through the corridors to Lab four. Fortunately, she was familiar with the department's layout, because all of the main areas appeared to be deserted. Clearly they had been warned that Krieghoff was coming.

Arriving at the locker area near the lab, T'Pei selected a lab coat, shoes and head covering from the Biohazard locker.

"How many individuals have come into contact with the specimen?"

"Four, possibly five," Victor replied as T'Pei began to put the garb on. He ticked off with his fingers. "One, Commander Arel Smith, on planet, who killed the creature – she'll want the knife in its head back, by the way – and was almost in turn killed by it and some packmates. Two, Chief Cannon in Transporter Room Three, where the specimen was beamed aboard with Commander Smith. Three, myself, also in Transporter Room Three, when I persuaded Chief Cannon to not beam the remains into space. Four, you, when you enter the room. The possible fifth may be Crewman Gary Upchurch who was killed earlier by one or more of the creatures – we don't know that this specimen is one of the ones that killed him, but it was encountered in the same area. There is also a chance of contamination by DNA left in or on Transporter Room Three or its transport pad, but that was decontaminated thoroughly two hours previously when Crewman Upchurch's remains were removed."

"As the person with the most...interaction with the creature, has Commander Smith shown any evidence of ill health?" At Krieghoff's amused look, she crisply amended, "Beyond the obvious, of course."

"None to date."

Donning the last of her safety gear, T'Pei gestured to a bank of screens near the entrance to the lab. "These should allow you sufficiently varied perspectives of the procedure."

"Remote viewing?" Victor frowned, one hand on a locker door. "I had planned on attending the procedure."

"As of now, we have no information on whether this creature poses a biological risk to the crew. I have performed over one thousand necropsies and am familiar with the equipment and protocol required in this situation. You, conversely, are entirely inexperienced in exobiology. Your presence would only serve to hinder my work."

As an afterthought to her blunt assessment, the Vulcan added evenly, "You are a member of the senior staff. Exposure to an unknown entity is an unnecessary and illogical risk."

Victor's frown deepened, but he nodded in acquiescence. "Agreed."

At the door to the lab, T'Pei turned back, her voice muffled through the face mask. "In addition to standard procedures, should I look for anything in particular?"

"Commander Smith said that her phaser 'didn't work' when she shot the creatures. As she's under sedation, I'm not certain what that meant, but I definitely want to know if that's possible." He checked the PADD in his hand as it beeped. "I have a report of one of the creatures having a possibly fatal reaction to ingesting portions of a crewman it attacked – Ensign Saiyk, a Vulcan. There may be something useful to look for there, as well. I'll go try and verify that right now and, if possible, locate and retrieve the remains of the creature for transport here." He looked back up at her. "Other than that, I need to know everything that you can tell me about the animal so I know how to keep them from killing anyone else: visual acuity, other sensory ranges, estimated land speed, estimates on methods of attack from the biology, the works."

He smiled in a way that T'Pei was certain most species would find alarming. "Basically, everything you'd need to know if you were going to hunt one of these things on foot."

"Captain meet the Captain"



With Captain Leo Streely and unauthorized use of Captain T'Vara

(Man it's been like years since we had us a good old fashioned unauthorizing!!! Man this takes me back!)




Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS GALAXY

Time: In a lull period where nobody is getting eaten and phase shifting is being diagnosed.






Nebular rain pelted the hull of the USS GALAXY, but the sleek craft did not flinch nor shudder.


Nay, she held steadfast as the winds howled across the Great Bird's shell, filling the cavernous hallways with an ethereal moan - a sound akin to the voices of great Captain's past calling out from the beyond each bearing witness to the legend himself.


Wearing the customary look of confidence etched across his rugged brow, the great one strode with a confident gait cross the threshold and into the inner sanctum where once men such as Bhrode, Price and M'Kantu made the choices that helped mankind carve through the canyon of the universe like a raging river.


He paused and looked upon his opposite...


"Captain Streely, may I ask why you are accompanied by an Ensign who is apparently recording some sort of overly descriptive and grammatically incorrect narrative?" Captain T'Vara asked.


Leo looked taken aback.


"Who? Shakes? He's my bard."


"Your.... bard. I am unfamiliar with this position."


"Heh heh. Captain...T'Vara....Var...may I call you Var?"


"No."


"Var, this ship is chalk full of epic battles and rich history. I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I myself have had played a part in some of it. In fact, I feel some what like that Greek guy but with out all the sweaty man love. What's his name Shakes?"


"Odysseus, Captain?"


"Naah, that other guy who was in those movies with all those clay monsters who moved like 1 frame a second..."


"The point, Captain..." T'Vara said politely yet forcfully.


"OK, OK, OK. I ramble at times. Shakes here, he's recording my greatness so that the annals of history will be accurate."


"I see." the Vulcan said, pausing a moment to reflect. "Ensign, you are dismissed."


"WHAT?!?!?! DID YOU GET UP ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE MIND MELD THIS MORNING?" Leo exploded, eyes wide open with amazement.


"Mr. Streely, please do not believe that simply because I am newly assigned to this ship that I do not know that you are a Captain merely by clerical error." T'Vara said cooly steepling her fingers as she spoke.


"I tolerate you and your aberrant rank because I am told from several members of my senior staff that you are somehow good for the morale on the ship during wartime. If you were to continue to make yourself an irritation in my hind quarters, I would be less likely to see your entertainment value to the crew and be more inclined to radio Admiral Bhrode for permission to reassign you. Perhaps to the embassy on Talis 5, the all male mining colony."


"OK, OK, OK! Lets not get our purple panties in a snit." Leo said waving his hands in the air.


He looked back at the confused looking Shakes.


"What the hell are you doing? Are you still here? You heard the lady! Back up on outta here! Pervert! I mention panties and suddenly you're a bulkhead!" he yelled at the Ensign and then after the doors closed and the two Captains were finally alone, he turned the old "Streely Charm" up a notch or two.


"Look, clearly we got off on the wrong foot. I tell you what, I have a joke to lighten the mood a little bit."


"A joke?" the Vulcan said.


"Yeah, yeah. A joke. Its funny. I just heard it today!" he said.


"I am going to hypothesize that things like this are the root cause of my people raising their eye brow." she said trying to avoid just that.


"What do you get when you cross Geordi La Forge and Sub Commander T'Pol?"


"I am breathless with anticipation." the Captain deadpanned.


"NICE IMPLANTS!!!! Get it?!?!? Implants...and T'Pal she's so...vavavavoom!" Leo said making air boobs with his hands.


"T'Vara to Security..." she said stabbing at the comm with a perfectly manicured fingernail.


"OK! OK! OK! OK!!!! CULTURAL DIFFERENCE HERE!!! OK!!!"


< SECURITY SIR......>


"Please stand by." The Vulcan ordered.


< COPY THAT. STANDING BY. >


"Alright, I just wanna talk about 2 things here. I'll be quick." Leo pleaded.


"I am afraid we are long past 'quick'. Continue."


"First, when M'Kantu was here, he let me use the Captain's Yacht as an office."


"And you want to continue to use the craft for your own devices?"


"I don't have any devices. I just wanna have a place to hang out. You know, someplace out from underfoot, unless of coarse you think a bridge station would be best..."


"I am assuming that you have an alternate method of transportation should I require the use of said yacht."


Leo kicked his feet up on her desk. His imitation Hirogen skinned boots gleamed in the light.


"Babe, my best buddy is the Navigation Chief. He can get you a fleet of shuttle craft if you needed them. Besides, I don't think the Yacht has been used since the early days of GALAXY:The Original Series."


T'Vara pushed the man's feet from her desk nearly toppling him out of the chair.


"I have no idea what you are referring to, but you may use the yacht. Besides, it would take me weeks to have the shag carpeting and the smell of incense removed."


Leo looked surprised.


"How...How did you know about the carpet?!?! I just had that installed. Shag zebra skin is impossible to find!"


"As I said earlier I am new to this ship, not new to the universe. The second item on your itinerary?"


"You..ah..you're gonna love this one." Leo said moving closer as if he were about to reveal the secret behind a magic trick. "You remember how you said that I am invaluable when it comes to keeping this dreary boat afloat?"


"How could I? It was only 4.7 minutes ago and that was not quite the way I phrased it."


"Listen, for the good of the ship........I want to be able to use half of a deck."


"Half of a deck or what?"


"Of the ship's decks."


"You want half of a deck plate?"


"No I don't want half of a deck plate. What the hell would I do with a deck plate? I want to be able to have half of one of the GALAXY's decks. Specifically Deck 32."


As much as she tried to fight the urge, her left eyebrow finally shot up.

"Logan's Run"

Logan Zamora

Ophelia Zamora

Jack Callahan

Location: Personal Quarters of Ophelia Zamora

==================================
The bright orange, red, and blue ear buds protected him from the outside world. The little MP6 player was easily cradled within his palm as the sounds of his favorite music. The songs comforted him in the now hectic world he found himself in. Without dad around, Logan knew that he had to be the man of the little family. At least, that's what Jack told him once not a long time ago.

"Logan, you have to step up and be a man for your mom now. Think you can do that?"

"Can you show me how?" He remembered he asked Jack. He also recalled that Jack nodded while puffing on one of his infamous cigars that always made mom so upset.

Mom. She looked really sad and sick lately. When ever he had asked her if she was okay, she would give him that soft smile and a nod. He knew it was a lie, she was anything but okay. And, he felt powerless to help her. He did know that a very bad person was trying to hurt her, and him. But he knew she would never let anything bad happen to him if she could help it. She was a really good mommy.

Standing up, he walked over to a small wooden table and two chairs that his mother had given him after he arrived. It was his table, the table that he had his snacks on. She had called him over, offering him a plate of animal crackers and a glass of strawberry milk. It had to be strawberry, chocolate was gross, and plain milk was even grosser! ICK! Pulling out the chair, he sat and studied the plate of cookies before him.

There was a bear. Gently, he picked it up.

'A bear. A bear could protect me and mom.' He thought. It's big claws and big teeth would rip through anyone that tried to hurt me and her. Logan thought again. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed and swallowed much like a bear would. A few scattered crumbs dropped to the floor drawing his attention for a moment.

The next cookie. A tiger.

'A tiger could protect us too! He could eat the person in one gulp!'

Logan picked up the tiger, then in his left hand picked up a giraffe.

"Your the bad girl." He told the giraffe.

His eyes wondered over to the vanilla flavored tiger. Placing the giraffe down on the table, he raised the tiger and held it in the air over the giraffe. A moment went by before the tiger smashed into the giraffe.

"Your a bad animal!" Logan spoke softly as he crashed the tiger into the other cookie. "You want to hurt me!" His little voice raised higher.

"You...you want to hurt mommy!" His voice raised yet again, causing Ophelia to charge around the corner.

"Logan?"

"What?" He looked up, his brown eyes full of tears of not understanding.

"Oh Logan....what's wrong?" She brought herself quickly down onto his level, wrapping the boy in loving arms.

"Your not going to........" Tears streamed down his small cheeks as he looked at his beautiful mother.

"Logan? What? I'm not gonna what honey?" This killed her, to see her son hurting.

"Your....your not going to die...are you?" His eyes widened largely as he brought his right sleeve across his dripping nose.

"Oh honey...no....No, I'm not going to die." Lia paused, sniffing herself.

"There are people here...they are protecting us baby. Jack......Victor....even the Captain. They will let nothing happen to us okay? We....we are on this big strong starship that can go *anywhere* it wants to. She is not ever going to be able to get on board honey...." She paused. "Aw babe....."

Ophelia felt him nuzzle into her neck as she continued to talk to him in a soft whisper. "It's okay. You know, I love you...I'll never leave you...no matter what."

"Never?" He brought his head up, looking directly into his mother's eyes.

"Never ever ever!" She offered him another sad smile, the only kind she knew how to give.

He accepted another hug from his mother, his eyes closing for a moment before his eyelids permitted him to see his surroundings. Raising his head slightly, he caught sight of Jack leaning up against the door frame. At times, the boy had to wonder why Jack had a habit of holding door frames up. Didn't he know they could do that on their own? Callahan nodded at him before sticking yet another cigar in his mouth. Admiration filled Logan.

"Mommy?"

"Yes Logan...."

"I wanna be just like Jack when I grow up...."

"Don't you even think about it....." Ophelia responded grimly before giving him another motherly embrace.

"Stretch"

Lt. 8-ball Hunter


They made the decision to try and leave the ship--the rationale was that there might be more natural materials on the planet's surface, materials that they could use to make a smoke signal indicating that they were still alive and, furthermore, get your asses back here, Galaxy, and rescue us. This wasn't the real reason they were moving, however; their chances of being eaten alive seemed just as likely outside the ship as in. Walker, however, felt that being devoured by animals was somehow more natural than being eaten by cannibals. As far as 8-ball was concerned, she just wanted to be moving. The more she felt like she was doing something, the less she was likely to have another meltdown and fall apart.

Getting off of the ship was more complicated than it sounded, however. For starters, the damn thing was massive. They seemed to be somewhere at the heart of the ship, which meant they had a long way to go without being able to use transporters. Not to mention they had to keep ducking into empty quarters (or walls) to avoid being seen by the flesh-munching people walking around.

8-ball slid out of the wall and shuddered. "It's a handy trick, no doubt," she said, "but, really? Walking through walls is creepy."

Walker didn't seem too perturbed. "Creepier things on this ship than that," he said, which was certainly true enough. 8-ball looked in the direction that the bad guy had disappeared to. He'd been dragging a body behind him, an ensign from Medical that she didn't recognize. The ensign had been unconscious but still clearly alive. 8-ball looked around them, but there was no blood, no hair, no big piles of creepy cannibal drool.

"They didn't eat him," she murmured.

"Yet," Walker reminded her. "For all we know, they're saving him for dessert."

8-ball didn't respond. She wondered if they could be capturing the Starfleet officers for anything other than supper.

Walker didn't seem to care. "Can we go yet?" he asked. "I mean, unless you're planning on launching a bold and daring rescue . . . which, well, that might be very noble, but---"

"Is very ill fucking advised?" 8-ball finished for him. "Yeah. Got the memo on that one. You're right; let's go before--"

"Shhh," Walker said suddenly, hand clamping down over 8-ball's mouth. 8-ball froze but heard nothing--no agonized screams, no foosteps, nothing. She jerked Walker's hand away from her mouth with no small bit of irritation.

"Quit doing that," she said. " A simple 'Shut up, 8-ball' would---"

"Shut up, 8-ball!" Walker snapped and abruptly pulled her backwards towards the wall again. Before 8-ball could sink fully into it, a lieutenant burst around the corner. "Forbes!" she yelled. "Forbes, dammit, answer me!"

"Thank God for that," Walker said. He walked over to the lieutenant, trying to get her attention, but she of course couldn't see him. 8-ball hung back a few steps, watching her scream for whoever Forbes was. There was something . . . strange . . . about this woman, something that made her seem almost . . . indistinct. Her outline was blurred, as if she had no edges to her fingers, her limbs; they seemed to just fade out instead of end. Even weirder, her hands were almost transparent; 8-ball could see through the skin to the uniform behind them.

It was like she was fading . . . in excessive slow-motion.

If 8-ball didn't know better, she would have thought she was looking at a ghost.

"What the hell . . ."

Walker turned around to look at her. "What?"

"You don't--you don't see that?"

Walker turned back to the lieutenantt. "See what? Gonzalez? She's just standing there."

"No, she's--it's like she's--you can't see her . . . fading?"

Walker frowned at 8-ball and opened his mouth even as Gonzalez tapped her comm badge. "Gonzalez to Galaxy."

"Gonzalez?" The transporter chief sounded pissed. "Where the damned hell have you been? Recall was ordered twenty minutes ago."

"I know, Sir. I was trying to find Forbes. It's his first mission, and I just--"

"Need to get your ass back to the Galaxy? Yes, Lieutenant, that's exactly what you need to do this second. Understood?"

Gonzalez closed her eyes. "Yes, Sir," she said. "One to beam up."

The lieutenant disappeared, and 8-ball stepped forward, examining the space that she had been standing in. There didn't appear to be anything unusual about the spot itself---no more visible distortions, no sudden change in temperature. 8-ball looked back at Walker. "I don't get it," she said.

"I don't, either," he said. "Since I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know. It was weird, like, like she wasn't really there, or . . . I don't know. I'd have thought she was just disappearing, you know, like us, but she couldn't see us, and . . . I don't know. You really didn't see it?"

Walker said that he did not, carefully keeping his face in the neutral expression of someone who was speaking to a batshit crazy person. Which may or may not have been fair, but it pissed 8-ball off all the same.

"Don't you be looking at me like that, Johnny Walker," she snapped. "I may be six kinds of crazy, but I'm not that kind of crazy--all my hallucinations have to do with repressed emotions and post-traumatic stress and creepy dead children, not random chicks with blurry fucking outlines. I know what I saw, so what about you give me the benefit of the doubt for two fucking seconds instead of dismissing me out of hand, okay?"

Walker just raised his eyebrows at her. "You're cranky when you're invisible," he said, after a second.

It made her laugh. "Gets me everytime," she said. "Well? You got any theories?"

Walker thought about it. "Maybe," he said, frowning, "but it's just a guess."

"That's why they call it a theory, Johnny Walker."

"Okay, really? John or Walker. Just pick one--it'll save time."

"Whatever. You've got a name like Johnny Walker and you don't think I'm going to be using it at every given opportunity? Give it up. What's this big theory of yours?"

Walker sighed. "You were the first one to go missing, right? Or one of the first, anyway?" When she nodded, he said, "Well, here's how I see it. We phased out of our own, I don't know, existence or dimension or whatever. We phased out into this one, but in some ways it's like we're in between them both. The fact that we can move through walls--we haven't seen any of these . . . monsters . . . do that yet. What I'm saying is, maybe the longer we're here, the more we're becoming a part of this dimension, this reality?"

8-ball thought about that. "You're saying if we stay here long enough, we won't be able to see the Galaxy crew anymore than they can see us?"

Walker ran a hand through his hair. "Like I said, just a theory. But it would explain why those guys never even glanced twice at our more corporeal crewmates. And it would also explain why Gonzalez seemed all . . . fuzzy . . . to you, when she didn't to me. You've been gone longer than I have."

"And if it happens to both of us, if we lose grasp on our own reality . . ."

"We won't ever get out of here," Walker said grimly. "We'll be supper to those things, just like what happened to the original crew of this ship."

8-ball blinked. "We don't know that's what happened to them," she said. "I think it's pretty obvious they phased out, but we don't know that they're all dead."

Walker just looked at her.

"What? I can't look on the bright side of things while being trapped on a ship with people trying to kill me?"

Walker snorted. "Now that you mention it," he said, "I do have an idea that could brighten up things considerably."

"Yeah?" 8-ball asked. "You got booze? Chocolate? A bat'leth?"

"A quicker way out." When 8-ball raised her eyebrows, Walker pointed wordlessly at the wall of the ship. 8-ball looked at it blankly for a minute before she understood what he was suggesting.

"Oh, fuck you, Johnny Walker," she said. "You want to climb out the ship through the fucking walls?"

"Why not?" he asked. "It'd be a lot quicker than what we've been doing and probably safer too. I don't know why it didn't occur to me before. We could be off this ship in half the time."

"Or we could get stuck," 8-ball said, though there was no reason to think that such a thing would happen since they had moved easily through solid objects so far. The idea just freaked her out. "I think I'd rather take my chances with the cannibals."

The second she said it, she knew it was a mistake.

Someone screamed. It was close--not in eyesight, but getting closer---footsteps pounding on the ship's floor, drawing near. Coming for them. Walker met 8-ball's eyes. "Stay here," he said, "and you might get your wish."

Without looking back, Walker stepped through the wall. "Asshole," she said and turned just in time to see one of those crazies coming around the corner fast, shrieking for no apparent reason other than possible bloodlust.

"Jesus!" 8-ball said and started to scramble through the wall. She emerged partially into somebody's empty quarters and had enough time to notice Walker standing a few feet in front of her before feeling something (fingers) slither around her ankle.

The ankle that she hadn't pulled through the wall yet.

She was tugged back, hard, and 8-ball shrieked as she ungracefully faceplanted into the carpet, desperately trying to grab hold of something, anything, that would keep her this side of the wall. "Walker!" she screamed, and Walker turned around, cursed, and dove towards her, grabbing her arms even as she was pulled backward by both legs.

8-ball tried to claw forwards, but the thing holding on to her had a good grip---8-ball screamed again, in pain, as she felt the cannibal's long, probably diseased fingernails tear through her uniform into her calves. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Walker! Johnny Walker, don't you let go, godammit!"

Walker was trying, she could see that---he was pulling so hard that the vein in the center of his forehead was starting to bulge out---but he couldn't pull her out of the monster's grip. He pulled and the thing pulled and 8-ball didn't think her skin could stretch that way much longer.

God, she thought faintly, in some detached part of her mind. They're going to pull me apart. They're going to rip me in half . . . through a wall . . .

8-ball screamed.

The scream seemed to tear from her, through her, reverberated outwards like a psychic drum beat. She could hear it, feel it, pushing forwards like the image of Azra 8-ball had once unconsciously projected onto the crew. Help me, her mind screamed to them. HELP ME!

Sure, that distant part of her mind said quietly. Think to use your psychic mumbo jumbo NOW.

In all fairness, it was unlikely that 8-ball would have been able to telepathically communicate with any of the Galaxy crew while they were still surveying the ship--she had next to no control over her psychic abilities, not to mention just shitty fucking luck. If she'd practiced more, studied more, maybe she'd have been able to get some kind of message out . . . so, yeah, too bad she'd stormed out on her Vulcan mentor then, huh?

Yeah. Too bad.

Walker flinched back a little---the force of her scream, echoing in the corners of his brain---and his gripped slipped a little on her wrists. He tightened his fingers painfully, trying to hold on, but 8-ball continued to slide backwards, only visible now from the shoulders up. "Hold on," he said desperately to her, as she stared back at him with wide eyes. "Hold on. Hold on!"

But 8-ball couldn't.

Her wrists slid out of his grip until he was only holding onto her by her fingers. "8-ball!" he yelled. "8-ball!"

He pulled and one of 8-ball's fingers snapped. She screamed again and was pulled completely through the wall.

Blindly, 8-ball tried to scramble away, but rough hands tightened on her, flipped her on her back and held her down. She was inches away from her captor's face---a blonde woman whose skin was painted in shades of filth and grease and blood. Her eyes, blue and bloodshot, were empty of anything akin to higher brain function. She appeared to be salivating, but there was no blood around her teeth, her tongue.

The woman-thing put one hand to 8-ball's cheek. Her fingers were dripping red.

I'm going to die, 8-ball thought.

There wasn't panic in the thought like there should have been. It was a calm statement, logical, the only possible solution for the equation that had been presented her. She was going to die. That was fact. There was no getting around that.

She wished that she could find some consolation in the hope that her desperate cry for help had reached the ship. That someone, somewhere, aboard the Galaxy had heard her scream and knew that she was alive, or had been. She wanted them to come back to this ship and find her body, to know what had happened to her. She wished she could believe in that.

But she couldn't. Her psychic talents, as powerful as they could be, didn't have that kind of range. Her invisible shipmates still on the surface undoubtedly heard her plea for help, but they were stuck in the same boat she was, all too soon to become the last supper. No one on Galaxy would have heard her scream--T'Pei, maybe, if they had ever joined in a mind meld, but hell, they couldn't even get past counting without trying to kill each other. The Galaxy would never know what happened to her, and she was going to die here, alone.

It was a good thing she was going into shock. Otherwise, she'd be a lot more freaked out right now.

The woman-thing smiled at her. She was missing a lot of teeth. And 8-ball realized, in a detached manner, that she seemed somehow familiar.

She couldn't pin it down, though, because then the woman started slamming her head against the ground. The first slam just hurt. The second took all the color out of her vision.

Well, 8-ball thought, at least I'll be unconscious when she eats me.

She took some consolation in that, at least.

She never felt the third slam.

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