Galaxy "Taking Command"
Written By Lt. Kahn Nilani
Chief Medcial Officer

We had only been on the ship maybe 5 min and I was already working on the injured. Captain Price finally sat down and I started working on his injured hand, the Captain handed me a padd as I finished fixing his Hand.

"What is this?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

["Your orders Lieutenant. I'm leaving you in command of the Qul'etlh when we beam down to Qo'nos."] the Captain replied in a serious tone.

My mouth hung open for a sec

["What's a matter doctor, You seem lost for words. And might I add for the first time mate"]

I finally figured out what I was going to say

"Captain... don't you think that someone else might be better..."

The Captain cut me off half way through

["No Lieutenant. You are the ranking officer on board once the away team beams down. I would leave Lieutenant Morris in command,"] The Captain looked at where the fallen Lt was laying. ["...but with the seriousness of her injuries, I doubt doing anything other than recovering is a good idea."]

I nodded "Yes, she should recover, but it will take time. What about the Klingons Captain? Surly one of them would be more qualified..."

["No Lieutenant. Most of the Klingon crew on board will be coming down to First City, except for Numar who will stay to help repair the Qul'etlh. That leaves just Federation officers, so as ranking officer, I'm leaving you in charge."]

"I understand Captain. I hope everything turns out well for you down there." I replied.

["Aye. Me too 'mate. G'Day Doctor."]

The Captain stood up and headed for the exit. I stood up my self!

"Captain!"

["Yes Mate!"]

I moved over to him and placed my hand on his chest

"May the prophets Guide you!"

["Thank you Nilani!"]

The captain turned and exited the sickbay, I looked around and all was calm.

"Anara! I will be on the bridge if you need me!"

I exited the Sickbay and walked along the corridors finally getting to the Bridge doors. They opened and I entered looking at the Officers on the bridge, I then moved to the center seat and sat down.

"Report!"

USS Galaxy
Ensign Milan Brynnu
Medical Officer

Milan Brynnu didn't know what to about all the wounded people that were flooding into the medical facility. She could never have been prepared for this kind of mayhem. Even during her medical training at the academy couldn't have prevented the anxiety and worry that gripped her heart, mind, and soul at this very moment.

She had just finished placing sutures on a deep gash across Ensign Baerl's shoulder that he had received during his confrontation with a Klingon warrior. The wound was deep, but none the less dangerous.

"There you go. Your good to go." Milan smiled at the Bolian officer who returned a smile of his own. Milan was certain that this officer was flirting with her. Her face turned an even more vivid shade of blue and smiled an even broader smile. "Can I have my hand back?"

"Uhhh-oh, sure." Baerl relinquished his hold of Milan's hand.

At that instant there was a commotion across the room. Milan turned to see that the blue skinned klingon woman was thrashing around wildly. She rushed over to where she was. There were already several nurses in her vicinity trying to restrain her. Milan grabbed a hypospray filled with a sedative and rushed to the scene. She looked at the medical readings quickly and assessed the situation with practiced ease.

It was as Milan thought. Ensign M'aerikh was suffering from a violent reaction to eleamine. She quickly administered the shot, and within seconds Ensign M'aerikh was sleeping soundly again.

It was going to be a rough day.

"Let The Punishment Fit The Crime"
USS GALAXY
Lt. Commander Deiran Casey
Acting Captain

Deiran enjoyed his long night’s sleep. He returned to his temporary quarters. Spent time with his beautiful wife who suggested they had something to finish that the Klingons rudely interrupted the night before. Deiran was tired, but he was not that tired. He happily agreed to Miran’s suggestion. The couple was just happy to be together.

Miran saw how much Deiran truly loved her. He showed his love when he found out she was still alive. She had never seen Deiran cry, or even shed a tear. But when she met him at the Ready Room after the battle she saw tears in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. He wasn’t afraid to tell her why they were there.

Their love was even stronger now. Deiran had proved to her once and for all of his undying love and devotion.

It was morning on the Galaxy. Time for Deiran to head back to duty. He had an hour before his shift started. He gave a passionate kiss and embrace to his wife, kissed Lara’s cheek as she of course giggled. And then he headed to Ten Forward. Normally the family would’ve had breakfast together but Miran had plans and started her day early and already had breakfast.

Deiran walked down deck 5 and observed the battle scars that the ship received. He was proud of the crew. They all fought so well. This ship was becoming just as famous for it’s exploits as the Enterprise was and that was something Casey was proud to take part in. The Galaxy was up there with the Enterprise, the Endeavor, the Europa, the Ticonderoga. Out of the most famous ships in Starfleet, the Galaxy was included among the elite. And so was her Captain, Captain Lee Price.

Casey was even making a name for himself, even before the battle here at Boreth. Commander Sterner, was a popular officer in Starfleet. The best and brightest in Starfleet were on the Galaxy. The Galaxy took part in some of the battles against the Jem’Hadar and was still in good shape. She fought well.

Deiran approached the turbolift and was pleased to see that it had been fixed during the night. He entered and was on his way to Deck Ten.

*** Ten Forward ***

The doors of Ten Forward opened and Deiran entered a crowded bar. The night shift had just ended and they were all here having a drink. When everyone noticed Deiran walk in, the crowd hushed. Like they would if Price entered. Casey nodded to everyone.

"Carry on, enjoy your break. You deserve it. I would like to say one thing. You all performed superbly. I’m proud of you all. Let’s not forget those who gave the supreme sacrifice during the battle. Never let their memories die. A round of drinks on me, Door!"

Door’s face turned pale when he realized he would have to serve everyone the drink of their choice. He was already understaffed. Casey sat down at his usual table near the port-side window.

A pretty waitress came to take his order. She was clearly flirting with him. She had long blonde hair, a body to die for. It was a shame she didn’t know he was devoted to his wife and daughter. "Hello ‘Commander, may I take your order?" she said in a low, almost seductive tone. Casey was getting used to this, women all over the ship were going gaga over him. Oh well, life’s rough he thought to himself. Casey wasn’t the kind to commit adultery, he didn’t need any other woman but Miran. That didn’t mean he didn’t notice other women, he just chose to be friends with them.

"I’ll have a Denver Omelet, some Orange Juice, hash browns and a bran muffin with a side of butter," Deiran was hungry. A few minutes later he was busily eating his breakfast.

He sat at the table eating, he looked out the window upon Boreth. A beautiful planet with a reddish, blue aura around it. A pretty planet which was unusual for Klingons. He didn’t really associate beauty with Klingon culture.

He would always remember this planet. It was the place that would propel his career forward. He knew it would. The place where he made history.

He finished his breakfast and headed for the Bridge.

*** Main Bridge ***

Casey was happy to see engineers working on the Bridge, some of the LCARS displays had been damaged in the battle. The way things were progressing, the ship would be in great shape by the time Captain Price returned. The only thing anyone would notice were the hull breaches. And no matter how much the engineers worked on repairing them, they would need some time for repair in a Space Station. Casey knew 12 hours of repair duty and 12 hours of rest would work.

It had been almost 36 hours since the Galaxy won the battle with the Bitas. The Galaxy was far from 100%, but 55% was better than 0.

Deiran walked down the ramp and didn’t turn for the Command Chair. Casey saw Mac stand up so Casey could sit down. "No, Mac you stay, I have reports to look over. I’ll be back in an hour."

Deiran entered the Ready Room, sat at the desk and accessed his own LCARS display. He hadn’t been using the Captain’s. He didn’t think it was proper to disturb any of the Captain’s belongings. He just sat at the desk.

Looking over reports, at least 60 of them. As he perused the reports he came across one that burned him up inside. Xala had broken into the ship’s computer again. That was the last draw, she had used up all of her second chances.

Starfleet required that any multiple infractions committed by Xala and she would be sent back to Earth. It was out of Casey’s hands and out of Price’s. She had sealed her own fate.

"Casey to Albrecht," Deiran said in a neutral voice.

[Albrecht here sir,]

"How is Sunder, Lieutenant?"

[Still in sickbay recovering. He’s getting better. He may just get himself thrown out of sickbay by the nurses with all the complaining he does.] Albrecht laughed and Casey couldn’t help but join in the laughter. He knew how ornery Sunder could be at times.

"Well, according to my security program files, Xala tried to break into the ship’s computer again. And according to her parole, when she has committed an infraction twice she is to be returned to Earth. It’s out of my hands. So make sure she gets her belongings gathered together. When Captain Price returns, and he’s lifted the ban on the comm traffic. We’ll make sure she’s extradited to earth. Let Sunder know and make sure he knows he’ll need to fill out a report on the matter. Got that Lieutenant?"

[Aye sir, I’m going to visit him now.] Albrecht replied.

"Good, be sure and tell him I said to get well soon. We need him," Casey said genuinely.

[We’ll do Captain.]

"Casey out."

Casey returned to his reports. He thought of a Terran saying, ‘Let The Punishment Fit The Crime.’ He felt sorry for Xala.

“Hide and seek, Targ style…”
by Lt. Hunter McKenzie
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Galaxy

Mac continued to monitor the reports from different sections. Repairs were proceeding accordingly and the Galaxy continued to function as the well oiled machine that it is. Flipping over to the Security channels recognized Derian’s voice

=/\=…damn targ of Lt Samara's found and thrown in the brig. Do whatever you have to find it, short of kill setting. While you are at it, tell Environmental to start cleaning up Deck 5. Casey out .=/\=

Mac smirked as he thought of D’Akana running amok throughout the Enterprise. Motioning for Ensign Louve’ to man the console he sprinted for turbolift, heading to K’Eyt’s quarters before hitting deck 5.

Deck 5

As Mac stepped off TL he motioned for the two Security officers that he had called for on his way down. “Okay, Gentlemen. This is merely a search and locate. D’Akana is harmless unless you piss him off.. Just find him and use this to subdue him.” Mac handed them the collar control. Pulling out the TacTricorder they began a systematic search of the deck…

2 hours later…

Mac wiped sweat off his brow as he stopped outside of the Jeffries tube. The cover had been removed and set aside. “Great,” exclaimed Mac, “Some Tech left the cover off and D’Akana has found his way into the Jeffries tube.” Turning to the two ensigns Mac handed them the tricorder, as he climbed into the tube. “You to go to Tube 4 and 7. I’ll try to flush him to you. Remember he’s not to be harmed...Okay?” He added. Nodding the two ensigns hurried off.

Jeffries Tube 5

As Mac crawled along the tube he cursed the Environmental controls. Jeffries tubes were barely bearable with the controls working normally with them down they were down right hot. As he neared the junction of tubes 4 and 7 he caught the sound of movement and smiled as he pulled his self to the edge of the junction. Taking a deep breath he jettisoned himself from the tube with an exhilarating “HAH!!!….”

….to land face to face with a large Klingon bent over a complex electronic device. As Mac landed at the bottom of the junction the Klingon turned and withdrew the d’k tahg from his belt. Snarling he lunged at Mac who barely avoided the deadly blade, but succeeded in knocking the phaser from his hand. Confined by the cramped quarters, Mac was resigned to a defensive battle, that coupled with the injuries he received from the earlier battle put him at a severe disadvantage. He was barely blocking the massive swings of the blade as it came closer and closer with each strike. Suddenly with unexpected speed the Klingon attacker lashed out with a massive side kick, knocking Mac into the hatch controls on the far wall. Mac glanced down at the long, deadly fall and quickly moved from the opening. The Klingon grunted as he delivered another solid blow to Mac and drove him to his knees, a resounding pop coming from his already injured ribs.

***With your death, Human. My honor will grow. And upon my receipt of the command this anti-matter implosion device will destroy the mighty Galaxy and my name will be sung with the likes of Kang and Kahless.” Spouted the warrior, ginning evilly

As he raised the wickedly bladed weapon and prepared to strike, Mac knowing that there was no way that he could defend against the blow. From the corner of his eye Mac saw a fleeting shadow launch itself through the air. Mac dropped his head as the shadow struck the Klingon , by surprise and while off balance into the open hatch. The Klingon screamed as he fell the sound ending suddenly as a sickening thud resounded from the bottom of the shaft. Mac looked up in time to receive a wet , slobbering kiss from D’ Akana. As he pulled himself to the edge of the shaft he saw the Klingon’s lifeless body twisted at an awkward angle, as it lay at the bottom….

“We make quite a team don’t we,” he asked as he scratched the Targ’s ear who gave a resounding bark in response.

Lt. Hunter McKenzie, Chief Tactical Officer, USS GALAXY
ICQ # 6728583

"Storm Clouds"
by Ensign Xavier Bishop
Security
USS Galaxy

Xavier's eyes fluttered open. Before him was a sea of swirling billowy gray clouds filled with dark shadows that undulated with serpentine hypnotism. He stared into the sea of clouds and became acutely aware of distant muffled sounds which permeated through the foggy haziness of the shrowd and began to take on a sharper more distinctive tone. As he listened the shrowd of grayness began to melt away. "...coming around."

Xavier's head turned in the direction of the uttered words. A dark shadow loomed before him. He looked into it and smiled weakly as it miraculously coalesced into the face of a young Bolian woman who stared back at him with sympathetic eyes. "Heya....."

"Dr. Milan Brynnu." filled in the Bolian woman.

"...Doc." finished Xavier.

He looked beyond her and saw a familiar face smiling back at him. "Heya Numa." He closed his eyes and lapsed into blissfull slumber.

***** Undetermined Amount of Time Later *****

Xavier opened his eyes and stared at the three people standing in a semi- circle about him, engaged in conversation. Numa, Mat, and Lieutenant Commander Sunder. A small chuckle barked from his dry c

racked lips. The trio startled by the unexpected sound turned toward him. Smiles split Numa's and Matt's expressions as they looked at their friend.

"Good to see you among the living, Xaev." said Mat as he leaned over and clutched his friends arm.

"Yeah, we were a little worried their for awhile." chimed in Numa. She smiled mischievously, "But seeing as your ok, you owe us all a round of drinks for scaring us like that."

Xavier stared passed his friends with a smile on his face. "I've heard quite a bit about you ensign." said Ursa as he approached a little closer.

"Yes, sir." replied Xavier with his quirky smile.

"What is it ensign?" Ursa's tone took on a slight edge as he looked uncomfortably at the Andorian.

Xavier chuckled some more as he continued to stare at his commanding officer through glassy eyes. "Your out of uniform, sir."

Both Matt and Numa looked from Xavier to Ursa. The hulking form of Ursa loomed over the trio like some stone gargoyle. Intimidating. Commanding. Stormclouds seathed within his dark eyes. But all of this ferocity was caged within a dainty little medical smock. Numa and Matt burst out laughing.

"NURSE!!!" roared Ursa.

Still laughing, Numa patted Matt on the shoulder, "Well, I have to get back to work before I'm missed." She picked up a data pad and put it gently next to Xavier. "George left this for you, Xaev." She turned and walked out of sickbay.

Xavier picked up the PADD and read it. He smiled. *George, I grossly misjudged you.* He lay the PADD next to him and observed a nurse running frantically toward his commanding officer.

"I want clothes now!" commanded Ursa. Xavier smiled sleepily at the incident.

"Uh...yes, sir. Sir." the nurse stumbled over her words.

Matt, chuckling, looked down at his friend, "You know he'll have double shifts waiting for us don't you?". Xavier chuckled also as Matt looked over to Ursa who was graciously accepting a neatly folded bundle of Starfleet Utilities from Doctor Milan. "There's a matter I have to discuss with you, sir."

"Yes?" answered Lieutenant Commander Sunder turning toward Matt.

"YOU MEAN I WAS GASSED!!!" bellowed Ensign M'aerikh from across the room.

Xavier was already asleep.

"Confronting the High Council"
by Commander Joerg Sterner

The away team was finally back on the Qul'etlh. The fight with the hybrids turned out to be more difficult than the first fight they had, shortly after they arrived at the complex on Praxis. However after this fight they had all the evidence they needed to confront the Klingon High Council, including a living sample of the genetic experiments.

After Commander Sterner helped Captain Price to get to sickbay, he went to the bridge of the Qul'etlh to reassure that the evidence they had collected was safe even if they would not return. Lieutenant Thomas was on the bridge and the ship was on its way to the Klingon home world. Within a matter of minutes they should arrive at the planet.

Finally the Qul'etlh was in orbit around Qo'nos. The away team reassembled in the transporter room and was on their way to confront the High Council with the evidence they had collected. Captain Price carried a bag, while Joerg has all the other evidence collected in his tricorder. All the members of the away team knew what was at stake at that moment and that there was a chance that they won't leave Qo'nos alive, but they accepted that risk for the sake of the Klingon population.

Finally Captain Price nodded to Lieutenant Samara and she activated the controls to beam them all down. Moments later they were on the Klingon home world.

******* High Council chamber *******

Once they were inside the chambers of the High Council, Joerg was very impressed by the great halls there. He of course has never been there before himself, but he had heard many stories about that particular structure before. But all of them couldn't describe what these halls were really like. Upon realizing that they weren't on a sightseeing tour, Joerg refocused his thoughts back to the work ahead.

Finally they arrived at the main hall, where the High Council already was in a meeting at the moment the away team arrived. Captain Price directly addressed Gowron and brought forth the evidence they had collected. Gowron was very enraged about the interference of Federation personal in Klingon internal affairs, but Captain Price, being a clever diplomat, convinced him to think the whole thing over again.

In the end Captain Price was able to complete a deal. The secret experiments will stop, in exchange for that the Federation won't make their finding about these tests public. It was deal Gowron hardly could refuse.

After they had completed the deal with the High Council, the away team was allowed back to their ship. Everyone was relieved, once they were back on board the Qul'etlh. Joerg only then thought about the Galaxy and 'Commander Casey in command of the vessel. Although he was sure that Casey was able to command the starship during their absence, he still was very curious what had happened to them in the meantime.

"A New Friend - Flashback part 1"
by Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga

Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga was in her quarters. Her temporary quarters at Starbase 317. But her quarters weren't there. Not in the sense of anything furnished,at least. Her transfer had been processed easily (thanks, most likely, to her brother); but she was still surprised she made it.

A Galaxy-class starship. The Galaxy. The USS Galaxy! Captain Price. Fleet-Captain Price!! She still couldn't believe it.

Her things had been taken aboard an hour ago by a civilian porter from the lounge at the starbase, and it cost Be'Tran 3 slips of latinum; but worth it. She didn't hafta lug all that stuff up the boarding ramp herself.

She could concentrate on making good impressions. Something her grandfather had told her she was always good at.

She strolled boredly over to the communications console. She was thinking of sending a letter. To Julie, to Dad, to Khalfani (no , he and Dr. Laabros were still honeymooning .) : just to tell someone she was nearly there. A starship. And no Commander Ben-zAddir. Her old CO on Starbase 410 had realy been riding her. He didn't like Klingons one bit!!

Julie, she could write to Julie, she should have time. It would be at least an hour before the Galaxy left port. She activated the console.

At that moment an announcemet-claxon sounded over the bases communication system.Something was going to be announced by the stations computer. " Attention, all departing personel, " the announcement began, "all personel departing aboard the USS Galaxy, report to docking hatch 43 within 5 minutes."

" What !", Be'Tran shouted to herself.

The computer repeated it's announcement, almost as if in response. " Five minutes?" ,she'd really let time slip by. Daydreaming. She knew it was too far to run, but she had to try.

She bolted from her quarters, momentarily ignoring the door security buzzer. "Gotta seal the room .".

She turned back, and punched the security-actuator. "Computer, seal these quarters pending new activation code." they were, after all, no longer her quarters.

Now for it !! She bolted up the corridor, her long legs carrying her as fast as they could, she nearly bowled over a young science-ensign in the process.

Reaching a turbolift, she basicly leaped in, much to the surprise of the Ferengi (in the station on business, of course) inside. "Want out ? " she asked sharply, "Believe me fella, i'm in a hurry ! ".

" Oh, no, by all means ; I'll stay here. No hurry. " replied the Ferengi.

Be'Tran's Betazoid abilities kicked in. "Thank the fates for their sex-drive . " she thought, as she sensed the Ferengi's lust. "OK," she said aloud, "but I don't have time to satisfy any boyish inclinations, I'm outbound on the Galaxy! "

The Ferengi looked openly surprised, "Boyish...how'd you know..."

Be'Tran did not respond; "Docking area." she ordered blandly to the turbolift.

All the trip down, she stared at the Ferengi and tried to look menacing, without laughing. She found it amusing. He was obviously aroused at her, yet frightened. Because she looked Klingon, or because he knew she knew he was horny, she didn't know which.

The turbolift slowed to a halt, and the doors flew open. Docking Level. Now to find the right port. A quick glance at a computer-displayed map on a wall screen solved that problem; and Be'Tran was off again, at a good sprint. She was a good runner.

The docking corridor was in sight. Was she too late? No, the Galaxy was still docked. How long did she have. That turbolift ride seemed terribly long. She half bounded into the entry of the docking ramp corridor; and nearly barrelled over a tall, blue-eyed man, with greyish hair... in a captains uniform!!

"Whoa there, slow down, ensign, where we headed ? ", the Captain was half-chuckling, and he spoke with an Australian brogue.

" Ensign...Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga....reporting...reporting for duty...sir ? ", she half-questioned, out of breath (more from surprise than the running).

" Welcome aboard; or, rather,'Welcome aboard, when you get aboard'. " said the Captain, "I'm Captain Lee Price, and this is my Chief Medical Officer,Dr. Khan Nilani." at this, Price gestured to a tall,attractive Bajoran woman, who , in turn extended a hand in Be'Tran's direction.

"Pleased to meet you , Ensign.", she said,"You're Khalfani M'Benga's sister,aren't you. The Exec. from the Yorktown,I mean."

" Yes ma'am," replied Be'Tran, " and it's an honor to meet you,", and she turned at this point to her still-smiling new CO," both of you sir. "

" Well-met, Ensign," replied Price, " but why the hurry ? "

"The computer said five minutes." said Be'Tran.

"Five minutes 'till what ? " asked the doctor.

" Five minutes before the Galaxy leaves port,ma'am." replied Be'Tran.

" Not likely," laughed Price, " false alarm. Got their message board messed up I'ld guess, mate. Dr. Khan and I have several things to do on board the station yet. You'll have time to get aboard, check in, and hit your quarters before we pull out; so slow down and grab your breath." Price put a firm but friendly hand on Be'Tran's shoulder, "That's an order." he said softly, grinning.

" Of course, sir, thank you ; good to be serving with you, sir. " replied Be'Tran, "permission to go aboard ?"

Lee let out a laugh," Granted," he said, "now hit the ramp flyin' and don't look back Ensign, your future lies before you." and with that, and a " g'day " the Captain and the Doctor continued on into the starbase.

Be'Tran looked long after Price. She knew now, more than she had expected to know so soon, why his crew followed him into so many dangerous situations; and on so many dangerous missions. People followed Cpt. Lee Price not because they had to, not because it was orders, or duty. People followed Cpt. Lee Price because Cpt. Lee Price made them want to follow him; as a man, as a friend, not just a commanding officer. She knew, at that moment, that as long as she remained aboard the Galaxy her loyalty to Price would never waver.

**********

Be'Tran continued on up the ramp, to be greeted by a stern-looking, square-jawed Lieutenant, in an OPS uniform, with a PADD.

"Permission to come aboard,sir ? " Be'Tran querried.

The Lieutenant glanced up from his PADD, and an expression of unabashed interest crossed his face; he was all business,however.

" Name ? "

" Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga."

"Position?"

"Engineering."

The lieutenant scanned his readout. " OK, Here it is; M'Benga, Be'Tran, Engineering. Alright, Ensign, proceed; your quarters are 9-47. Report to Mr. Mercury."

Be'Tran smiled broadly; Her quarters. Her quarters,aboard a Galaxy-class starship. "Thank You, sir.", she said, and proceeded through the docking hatch, and into the long corridor. After several twists and turns (admittedly, she didn't know her way around to well), she aproached a turbolift.

Just as she was about to enter, the door hissed open, and a tall, blond man sporting commander's pips exited. "Excuse me,sir." began Be'Tran.

" Just coming aboard, Ensign ? ", asked the Commander.

"Yes,sir."

" Welcome aboard,then; I'm Commander Sterner, Joerg Sterner, First Officer," said the Commander, " Good to have you aboard...and your name is? "

" Ensign M'Benga, I'm an Engineer." said Be'Tran, "Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga; and it's good, no, great to be aboard, sir."

" Well," said Sterner, "I hope you feel the same way after a couple of weeks on duty." the Commander smiled,and there was a flash in his blue eyes. " We're a busy ship y'know."

" Oh,I'll feel just fine sir," replied Be'Tran confidently," I love my work,and it loves me. I'll be more than happy to right on shift."

Sterner smiled, 'This one's eager.', he thought. " Report to Mr.Hewson for now,then; Lieutenant Mercury's not back aboard yet. That is if you intend to go to your duty station right now!"

"Well,sir," said Be'Tran," With your permission, I thought I'ld go to my quarters first, see if my stuff got sent up alright, y'know."

"Of course,Ensign; get yourself settled in." said Sterner, "we probably wont be lieving port for at least an hour."

"Thank you sir.", said Be'Tran, and proceeded toward the turbolift.

"Oh,Ensign. " called Sterner, "I couldn't help but notice the sash ? "

"Yes, sir," replied Be'Tran, "it's a family heirloom. Is it alright,I mean, within dress-code and every thing? "

"Well, sure," Sterner hesitated, "It's alright for now; but you might want to clear it with the captain." He gestured at the dakh'tag sheathed on Be'Tran's sash: " Is that a knife scabbarded there?"

" Yes,sir." she replied.

"May I have a look? "

"Ofcourse, sir.". Be'Tran removed the dakh'tag from it's sheath,and handed it, carefully, to Sterner, hilt-first.

"Looks good." said the commander., "Good workmanship. The captain has one of these on his desk. He definately will want to have a look at this.",Sterner turned the dagger over in his hand. "Good workmanship." he repeated.

" Thank you , sir." said Be'Tran," It belonged to my grandfather."

" Keep it in good health," said Sterner, "and keep it safe." and he handed it back,butt-first.

"Thank you sir, I will," Be'Tran said.

"Good to meet you,Ensign, now get to your quarters." Said Sterner.

"Of course,sir." said Be'Tran," Good to meet you,sir.",and she entered the turbolift.

"Oh,Ensign," called Sterner, before the lift-doors slid shut.

Be'Tran stuck her head out into the corridor, and held the door open. "Sir?"

" You don't happen to have a Targ, do you Ensign ? ", asked Sterner, and Be'Tran thought she could sense ammusement in his question.

"No sir." she replied.

"Good." said Sterner, "Just wondering. The knife reminded me of someone else. "

" Well sir," asked Be'Tran, "Do you want a Targ? "

"No ! Thank you ,Ensign." replied Sterner, and the turbolift doors slid shut.

"A New Friend - Flashback part 2"
by Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga

Be'Tran was in her quarters. They were HER quarters ! No roomate...no quadmates (like in the Academy)...just Be'Tran. Actually, she was getting a little lonely, whe off duty. She'd visited 10Forward. She'd hobnobbed a bit with her co workers. But she hadn't actually made a friend yet. Not like she was used to. Not a buddy.

She had met Lt. Samara a couple of times in Engineering. Be'Tran found her very intriguing, but she seemed very troubled. Someone had mentioned that K'Eytyanna had spent time in a Cardassian prison. " That'll do it. ", Be'Tran had thought at the time (in reference to a possible cause for K'Eytyanna's problems). Be'Tran still wanted to be her friend. Why ? Maybe because they were both Klingons. Maybe because Be'Tran could sense, to some degree, the depth of K'Eytyanna's pain (her Betazoid powers not being "full strength" by any means). Maybe Be'Tran just liked her.

Be'Tran was busy at the moment playing with her food-slot. She was trying to come up with interesting Targ-treats. Lt. Mercury had told her K'Eytyanna had a Targ. Maybe a way to a troubled woman's friendship was through her pet's stomach.

***WHAM!!***

The Galaxy seemed to shudder suddenly. The red-alert claxons went off. Be'Tran stopped playing with the food slot, and hurried to her bed, scrambling into the bottom half of her uniform that she had let dangle over the edge of her bed when she came in off duty.

'We're under attack.', she thought; as she scrambled to put on her boots. A voice (not the computer's) came over the ship's comm-system. "All hands to battle stations. All hands to battle stations."

Be'Tran was dressed and ready. She didn't worry about her sash, she left it hanging on the tall display rack she had replicated for it days before. She bolted out of her quarters. Battle Stations! That meant the Galaxy was under attack. And that meant Be'Tran was to reprt directly to Engineering. Emergency Procedures. So she headed for the nearest turbolift.

Another voice, this one female, and over the commbadge. " Lieutenant Boudreaux to all engineering personel. Report to engineering at once."

Be'Tran hit her own badge, "Ensign M'Benga here," she announced, "I'm on my way!"

She entered the crew-level turbolift and barked "Engineering ! " to the control-program. The turbolift started downward, and Be'Tran could feel the enertia.

*** WHAM ***

The ship rocked violently. Be'Tran was thrown against the wall of the lift-chamber. The lights dimmed briefly, but came back up. "Whew." said Be'Tran aloud, "What the hell is going on?"

Another violent shudder. Whoever was attacking the Galaxy, they weren't just pushing shoulders. they were throwing solid punches. The lights went down again; and the turbolifts control console blew out. Sparks seared the air as Be'Tran hit the floor of the lift for cover.

The lift whined to a halt. Fast!! Forcing Be'Tran to roll across the floor from the enertia. The sparks continued from the control pannel. The lift was dead. Be'Tran scrambled to her feet. The smoke from the sparking control pannel was beginnig to clear. "OK," she said aloud, "at least environ-control is still up."

She stepped up to the control-pannel, and yanked the cover off. More sparks. More shaking (Galaxy was still under attack). The conduits were melted. Be'Tran knew in an instant that she couldn't get the lift running again. She also knew that she couldn't just sit in it and wait for someone to find her, or someone else to fix it.

She surveyed her surroundings, and noticed withease the hatch in the lift's roof, the escape-hatch. She crouched down for momentum and jumped for the hatch. Another shudder, and she was thrown against the far wall of the lift.

"Dammit !! " She tried again, this time forcing the hatch open wth a fist, with the full power of her jump behind it. She jumped again, and grabbed the lip of the now barely-open escape-way. With her free hand she forced the hatch open the rest of the way. She climbed deftly out onto the top of the lift-carriage.

Grunting, she pulled herself to her feet on top of the lift, and kicked aside the hatch-door for room to stand. She put her long-fingered hands on her hips and surveyed her situation again.

" Now all I gotta do is somehow climb around this lift, and scrable down to engineering." she said, " Piece of cake." Then she looked down the sides of the lift, noticing how little space existed between the carriage, and the wall of the lift-tube. " Piece of very hard-to-bake cake!".

Suddenly there was avery loud creaking, a groaning of metal. The lift was giving away with Be'Tran on top of it!!

*** SNAP ***

The lift-clamp on the left gave out. Be'Tran was thrown on her back as the carriage dropped a few meters.

*** CREEK ***

" Oh, shit! " Be'Tran knew she was introuble. The otther clamp was breaking. She crawled to the right side of the lift and peered over. The clamp was almost toally out of it's groove.

*** SNAP ***

And it gave! The carriage went hurtling down the seemingly miles-deep lift-tube with Ensign M'Benga clinging atop it for dear life. She struggled to her feet, and let out a deep howell that any Klingon warrior would've been proud of. Then...she jumped.

She jumped, and tried desperately to propell herself backwards, aiming herself in the general direction of the service-ladder to her aft in the lift tube. The lift sped away beneath her, but she kept on falling. Tumbling like a freefalling skydiver.

Then she remembered something Julie taught her at the Academy. Tumbling. Gymnastics. Let the weight, shape, dipersemnet, and natural "balance' of your own body take charge, and it's enertia propel you. M'Benga tried it. She tucked her flailing legs up, curling her body, then she thrust them out strait again and went limp.

She was trying to shift her weight in the general direction of the ladder. Her head swam. She was whirling and falling; then she stopped. She slammed into the wall of the lift-tube. Her right hand , almost instinctively, groping for the ladder-rungs. Her feet found one instead, but much too hard. She slipped and her face came crashing down on another rung. She felt a stinging pain in her head, near the hairline, and could tell from the taste in her mouth that her lip was bleeding.

Nonetheless, she hung on; grabbing the ladder with both hands : she began to climb down , still groggy. The ship was still shaking somewhat, but more as if it were reacting to internal damage, rather than external attack.

Be'Tran struggled down the ladder. She didn't know just how far she had fallen, but engineering couldn't be to far down... could it?

She reached a lift-door, and strugled for the emergency hand actuator that would open the door from inside the shaft. It was then that she saw the ID-plate.; " Engineering Level! " she read aloud. "Yes ! Yes ! Yes ! ".

She groped the actuator and tugged. Nothing. " Dammit!". A third time. Yes! The door began to inch it's way open. Slowly, slowly. She pulled herself across the ladder . The red-alert lights were still flashing. The door was open about 2/3 of the way now. She grabbed onto the edge of it for leverage, and tried to pull herself through the opening.

Suddenly a man's hand was thrust out into her face. She grabbed it instinctively. It was Lieutenant Hewson. He pulled her from the shaft and she slumped onto the floor of the main engineering room.

"Ensign ? " Hewson was obviously concerned.

" Thanks A.C. . " said Be'Tran; she liked calling him that, and despite his being her superior officer, he didn't seem to mind. Maybe she had made a friend after all. She stood herself up ,appearently nonoe the worse for wear.

" Your mouth's bleeding. " commented Hewson.

Be'Tran wiped her lip, and gazed at the unusual almost purple-like tone of her own blood. " Yeah. " she replied softly. People were hustling about the engine-room and Be'Tran saw Lieutenat Boudreau come into view.

" Turbolift's out . " she commented lightly to Hewson; and began to damn-near strut over to Melissa, ready to assume her duties.

"Approaching the Point of No Return"
by Lt. Tebrianne Bancroft

Things had been hectic since the battle. Tebrianne was worn out--exhausted was closer to the truth. She slumped against the wall of the turbolift. It had been nearly forty hours, of which she'd only slept four. Or was it six? Casey had tried to chase her off the bridge and out of engineering on more than one occasion, but she'd managed to convince him to let her stay on for another couple hours. She had been living off of raktajinos--the only part of Klingon culture she could really tolerate. The enormous amounts of caffeine had finally started to wear off.

The doors to the lift opened and Teb nearly poured into the corridor. She wandered down the center of the hall toward her quarters. It wasn't far--that much she knew. She hadn't been there in over twenty-four hours having slept for two hours in Ten Forward nearly twenty hours ago. Maybe it was thirty-six hours since she'd seen the inside of her quarters. Teb couldn't remember anymore.

The doors slid open and she stepped into the darkness.

"Computer," she said quietly. "Lights. Twenty percent."

The room was bathed in the amber glow of the lowered lighting level. Tebrianne pulled off her duty jacket and dropped it into the chair. She'd have to have it recycled. She'd never thought of herself as a grease monkey before...now she had the stains to prove it.

Tebrianne walked over to the replicator, unzipping her tunic and ruffling her red forelock as she went.

"Ice water. Three degrees centigrade."

A tall crystal glass shimmered into existence in front of her. Teb picked it up and took a long gulp. She held the cold glass against her forehead for a moment. With a practiced motion, she kicked out of her boots and flopped onto her couch while only spilling a little of her water.

After taking another sip, Teb leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. She absently twirled the small silver ring in her belly button and let her body relax. Without fail, Greer Erikson came to the front of her thoughts.

Teb beat the back of her head against the couch a few times. "Why can't I have a moment of peace without you coming into my head?" she said. She knew why.

Tebrianne didn't mind thinking about Greer. She didn't mind spending many hours hoping he would notice her and ask her to the holodecks or some such. She didn't mind the wishful fantasies of his lips brushing against hers, their bodies intertwined. She didn't mind any of that rubbish. She did mind the fact that she didn't have the guts to make a move. Greer was a wonderful chap, but he had the observational skills of a Bolian Wing-gnat. Why wouldn't he just notice that she was head over heels in love with him--

In love? Was she in love with him? There was more than just lusting after him. Wasn't there? He was smart. He was very good looking. He was a wonderful man. She didn't really know him...but was that really all that important? There was only one way to tell if she was in love with him. She would have to spend time with him. She would have to get to know him. Once they'd spent time together, then she'd know for certain she was head over heels in love with him, and not just interested in a quick tumble. She'd hardly ever thought about them having sex... It wasn't that much really... Was it?

She really was tired. But being tired had its advantages. When she was tired, Teb tended to be a little more bold than usual. She didn't quite think as clearly as she should. She tended to take chances that she usually wouldn't take when she'd hardly slept a wink during the previous two days.

Tebrianne reached over across the couch and plucked her communicator off her duty tunic. She tapped the face and opened a channel. With a devilish smile, she hoped she had the guts to carry through.

"Bancroft to Erikson," she said quickly. "Hi Greer..." This was it. The point of no return. Now or never. She was standing at the precipice, ready to take the plunge. Or something like that. ". . . I was kind of wondering if you wanted to get something to eat, or maybe a coffee, in Ten Forward."

It was done. Now all she could do was wait. She had cast everything to the winds and now it was up to Greer. Would he or wouldn't he... Why was it taking him so long? Teb hoped he was okay?

After what seemed like an eternity, Greer finally answered. "See you there soon, Tebrianne. Erikson out."

Tebrianne stared open mouthed at her coffee table. He said yes. It was only coffee or something to drink... But, he said yes. It was a start. Right? A jumping off point?

Tebrianne nearly spilled her water as she plopped the glass on the table. She was heading for her bedroom at a near sprint. Her maroon duty tunic discarded halfway to the door and bra flung into a heap at the foot of her bed. Tebrianne searched her closet frantically, trying to find the right outfit to meet Greer in.

She slipped out of her pants and rifled through a selection of short skirts of varying fabrics. She felt awkward as she stood almost naked, searching for the right thing to wear to Ten Forward...and she had half a mind to just show up as she was. It would leave little doubt in Greer's mind that she wanted to be with him. Then again, he'd probably think she was just some two-bit floozy.

Tebrianne pulled out a leather skirt and held it up. It was the one she'd worn for the concert right before she joined the Academy and the band split up. She knew they wouldn't last once she'd joined Starfleet. Half the time, she felt like she was the only one interested in the music. Everyone else just seemed interested in the groupies and the sex. Teb had avoided all of that. The sex, drugs and rock and roll image wasn't for her. She just wanted to play her music. She didn't have time for that other garbage.

Maybe it was that goody-goody side of her that led her to Starfleet--that led her to Greer. Maybe it was fate. Maybe she should hurry up before she's late and Greer leaves.

Teb grabbed a pair of red and black stockings. They were always her favorite. The checkerboard pattern was fun, and it was better than some of the other designs. She pulled on a pair of low-cut soft leather boots with a slight heel.

All she needed was something to cover her top, and she'd be ready to go meet her destiny. Teb grabbed a black bustier from her closet. She slipped into it and smiled--it gave her cleavage that would rival even Xala. Tebrianne blushed as she stared at herself in the mirror. The bustier left her shoulders bare--the yin-yang tattoo on her right shoulder blade displayed prominently. It was also cut short--just above her pierced navel--making Teb glad she'd done the extra situps the other day.

There's something missing, Teb decided. She threw her leather jacket on and smiled with satisfaction.

Tebrianne left her quarters, headed toward Ten Forward. She sang to herself as the turbolift sped through the ship. She had no idea what she was singing...her nerves were starting to kick in.

***

Teb walked into Ten Forward. A quick look around told her that Greer wasn't there yet. She found an empty table near one of the windows looking out over Boreth. She could feel eyes on her as she moved toward the table. Teb sat down and scanned the scene around her.

Neuvo-London Punk meets GQ Starfleet Hunk, she thought. Teb giggled to herself, quickly covering her mouth with her hands so she didn't draw too much attention to herself.

She looked up and saw that a few people at the bar were looking at her. She turned away and glanced out the window. Greer would be there soon, and she would find the guts to tell him how she felt.

It was way past the point of no return.

Lt. Tebrianne, USS Galaxy, Chief Helmsman
[dodger@hevanet.com]
UIN# 2172851

"Karyn of all trades"
by Ensign Karyn Dallas
Counselor/teacher

After her burns were taken care of, Karyn decided to help out in sickbay. While she knew she wasn't a brain surgeon, she was a whiz with a dermal regenerator and she could draw a tricorder faster than anyone this side of the Alpha Quadrant. She quickly went over to Dr. Khatroweena, to see where she could help.

"Dr. Khatroweena", Karyn gently touched her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"Yes, she answered tiredly, "what do you need?"

"Counselor Karyn Dallas reporting for duty, "what can I do to help?"

"There's some people over there, she said pointing near the entrance, "who have cuts and bruises that need attention. Can you handle that?"

"Yes, maam, I'll get right on it."

Dr. Khatroweena looked exhausted to Karyn. She of course didn't show it but Karyn knew better. Years of practice had taught Karyn how to read people. The doctor needed a break and something told her it wasn't going to be easy trying to convince the doctor of that. She'd have to deal with her later. It was time to get to work.

Most of the injured needed minor repairs. Many people didn't recognize Karyn but she used this opportunity to introduce herself. This was sure a strange way to meet the crew but better this way than not at all. After she treated the new arrivals, Karyn went around doing what she could to make the others more comfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Xavier Bishop open his eyes. She rolled beside his bed.

"Hello ensign, how do you feel?"

"I've been better and you are..."

"Counselor Karyn Dallas, psychologist, teacher and temporary candy striper."

"Pleased to meet you, Karyn. I'm Xavier Bishop security officer."

"Nice to meet you,can I get you anything?"

" Some water might be nice."

"Coming right up", she said, as she flashed him one of her bright grins. When she returned with his water, he was already fast asleep. Karyn shrugged her shoulders and decided to check on Lexana. Lexana was asleep and it appeared she was dreaming. She had kicked all her blankets at the end of the biobed. Being careful not to disturb her friend, she gingerly replaced the blankets. She decided it was time to check on Dr. Khatroweena. She was barking orders left and right. She looked even more exhausted than she did earlier, but to her credit she was keeping up an excellent front. She needed a break and fast. Karyn moved across sickbay determined to help a fellow co-worker in need, even if it was only raktijino.

"Hope Floats"
Casey Ti Miran

Miran moved around the sparsely decorated quarters they had to call home for a while. She missed everything. Bobbie missed everything.. The little ferret would move around the room looking lost. Though he didn't say it because he knew what it would do to his wife's feelings, Deiran probably wished Bobbie got left behind.

Miran longed for a rocking chair. She missed the comfort that the Stephin family gift gave to her as she cradled her daughter. It would help her relieve the worry she had for Deiran. He was so busy and Miran was afraid that he would burn himself out.

She gathered up Lara and Bobbie. To get her mind off of Deiran and what all had happened, Miran decided to go down to the arboretum. As had everything, it had taken damage and she had been volunteering down there for some time.

*** Miran reached down and set the water to rippling. On the surface floated a peace lily that had not survived the assualt. It kind of gave Miran a sense of hope that someday she could be like the lily on the water- peaceful, beautiful.

Carefully, she took a bulb and replanted a lily for the one that was lost. Many other flowers had been crushed, but with their roots intact, it was hopeful that they would grow again without being replanted. Lara cooed next to her. The young mother smiled, brushing the dirt of her hands to touch her daughter's button nose for a moment before returning to plant care.

The Rhododendron bush need but to have the small debris pieces removed from it. She finished breaking off the broken stems on the rose bushes.

Flowers were hope, love and peace. They were like a child- need to be nurtured and loved. Miran spoke to the flowers in muted tones encouraging them to grow and be beautiful once again.

Ensign M'Benga was bent over an access-pannel in Ten Forward.She and Ensign Whipper were hard at work on repairs.Be'Tran had been working 24-7 sience the fighting ended.She was still surprised.Surprised as hell.Surprised at her own people.

A spark of energy crackled from the power conduits. "Oops.",Whipper quipped with a grin.

Be'Tran grabbed a tricorder from the pile she had made of her tools and ran a quick diagnostic. She shot Whipper a quick grin and reworked the conduit. "You're good," said Whipper, "you're quiick."

Be'Tran let out a husky giggle; "That's not all I'm good at, rerouting power conduits, I mean." The Ten-Forward lights began coming back up.

"Well, Ensign, just what other skills do you posess ?" came Dom's response, but Be'Tran didn't offer an answer. Her attention had been caught by the striking figure that just enterred the lounge.

She was tall, and beautiful; with blue skin and whit hair, but otherwise, a decidedly Klingon appearence. Be'Tran hadn't noticed this one before, not in the weeks sience she came aboard the Galaxy. Her Betazoid powers were going off. This woman was troubled. Maybe Be'Tran could help.

She rose from her work, and started toward the woman, who was now seated and ordering from a waiter. "Hey,where ya goin'?" asked Whipper.

Be'Tran clapped a long-fingered hand on Dom's shoulder, "Right back." she said softly.

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

V'Ehlma's drink arrived, and she took a quick sip, rubbing her aching head. 'You think they could've warned me about this.' she thought, in reference to the gass that, to some extent, was still troubling her system.

She looked up from her drink to notice a tall, long haired Klingon woman approaching. At least at first glance she looked Klingon; but she had light eyes.

The Klingon woman,an Ensign, strolled boldly up to V'Ehlma's table and damn-near hollered a greeting: "loqNey qo'locness!", a standard Klingon greeting; then, "Hi...I'm Ensign M'Benga, may I join you?"

V'Ehlma looked into her drink, "Why not...".

"Good." Be'Tran M'Benga plopped vigourously into the seat opposite the conn-officer. She snapped her long fingers for the waiter. "I'm new around here, what's good to drink?".

V'Ehlma shot the young Ensign a sharp glance, "What is it you want?".

"You're not feeling too well are you? What's your name? I'm Be'Tran.".

"You told me that already.".

Be'Tran giggled again, "Yeah, I did, didn't I? Well I'm just trying to break the ice."

The waiter turned up with his grin , and a menu.Be'Tran smiled up at him and reached up and patted him on the stomach. The waiter seemed a bit taken aback.

"Beer, real, if you've got it; German! Synthale if you don't!" Be'Tran was talking loud enough for the rest of Ten Forward to hear, but the waiter still asked her to repeat. She did so, with a laugh, which semed to bring a smile to V'Ehlma's face. Be'Tran tickled the waiter's tummy, and he jerked back, but then hurried off (presumably to process Be'Tan's order.

"You're in a damn good mood for a Klingon who just helped fight a battle with Klingons ?" V'Ehlma querried.

"Well," said Be'Tran, "i'm always ina good mood, I guess. As for the battle, I didn't do any fighting to speak of; I'm on the clean-up team. I'm with engineering."

Ensign M'Benga leaned closer to V'Ehlma, "as for the Klingon part, I'm only 1/4 Klingon.".

"You don't look it.". replied V'Ehlma.

"Well, it's true. My father is human, my mother is half Klingon.".

"Half-Klingon ?", asked V'Ehlma, her interest piqued.

"Yeah, half-Klingon, half-Betazoid."

V'Ehlma sat back in her chair, "Oh...that's how you know I'm not 'feeling well'.".

"Yeah," replied Be'Tran, "Not to worry, I'm not a counselor, I'm an engineer; I just thought...".

"What ?".

"Well, you looked like you could use a friend.". Be'Tran's drink arrived, and the waiter set it down and hurried off; Be'Tran laughed again.

"I feel like shit." said V'Ehlma, "It's that damn gas.".

"Oh," said Be'Tran, "What they used to knock out those renegade that boarded the ship. Hey, it gave me a pretty good headache too; what I got of it. Don't worry, you'll come through alright." and with that Ensign M'Benga smiled broadly. "You're part Klingon yourself, aren't you ?" she asked V'Ehlma.

"Don't I look it ?", responded Ensign M'aerikh.

Be'Tran looked the other ensign over. She noticed for the first time, the Andorian feelers. "Whoa..." she exclaimed, "You're part Andorian, aren't you? No wonder that gas messed you up. Wow !".

"I though you were an engineer ?" said V'Ehlma.

"I am ." .

"Well, is Andorian physiology required reading for Engineers now. Even the doctors, Khatroweena and Brynnu, didn't expect it to bother me like this." V'Ehlma said.

" My father is a doctor on Earth, " replied Be'Tran, "We got medical info to the roof at home, including alien physiology. ".

" Hey !", it was Ensign Whipper, "Be'Tran what're you doing, taking a break !? ".

Be'Tran stood up and took a long drought of beer, "Wow !", she exclaimed, "The ' real stuff' ! Thanks ! ", she bellowed the last word at the barkeep.

" Be'Tran ? " Whipper was getting impatient.

" Gotta go. " M'Benga said to V'Ehlma. "Hey, wait, I still don't know your name ? ".

" It's V'Ehlma," she replied, " V'Ehlma M'aerikh, Ensign V'Ehlma M'aerikh."

Be'Tran chuckled, " Nice to meet you V'Ehlma-V'Ehlma M'aerikh-Ensign V'Ehlma M'aerikh. " she laughed, despite V'Ehlma's frown. " And we'll meet again. Qapla ! ".

With that, she slammed her empty mug on the table and sauntered off to help Mr. Whipper with the power-couplings and the lighting.

"Returning to the Galaxy"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price

Captain's Log: Supplemental

Our mission to prevent the Klingon High Council from proceeding with their plans to mutate the population has been successful. After obtaining the proof needed to substantiate the bej'mey claims, Chancellor Gowron agreed to cease going forward on the High Council's plan in exchange for our silence over the wej'oy'nem and the subsequent attempts by the High Council to rewrite Klingon history to cover up the previous mutation.

It is not a perfect solution, but given the situation with the Dominion war, it will have to suffice if the Federation is to stand a chance of keeping the Alpha quadrant. Gowron has agreed to release the surviving bej'mey members from their imprisonment, restoring their family honor and possessions as before. Unfortunately my close friend, K'Ral, has been killed while in the mines on Rura Penthe. His family name and honor will be restored of course, but the galaxy will forever be diminished with his passing. He was a warrior and a true friend. I can only hope he takes comfort in the knowledge that he died with honor and can walk proudly among those others he meets in Sto-Vo-Kor.

We are presently on route back to Boreth to rendezvous with the USS Galaxy. I imaging Lieutenant Commander Casey will be please to have us back after the boring assignment of orbiting the sacred Klingon planet for so many days.

I find myself looking forward to returning to the Galaxy's decks. The Qul'etlh is a fine ship, but the Klingon Bird of Prey is not as nicely outfitted as the Galaxy. Soon we will all be back home, and then on to Federation space where I will have the unenviable duty of informing Starfleet Command of our adventures the last few days. I am confident that though unsanctioned, that Starfleet will see that our actions were warranted.

Captain Price finished making the recording by tapping his comm badge to deactivate it. He then sat back and looked out the nearest observation portal at the passing stars. Removing the d'k tahg that K'Ral had once given him, Lee examined the blade, running a thumb over the house inscription in the pommel of the handle. K'Ral son of Kras. He gazed at it for a moment and then looked out across the stars. "We did it my friend. You can rest easy now 'mate. The Empire is safe."

By Dr. Felicia Khatroweena,
Lieutenant (Assistant Chief Medical Officer),
USS Galaxy NCC-70637

***** LOCATION *****

Things had started to build up in Sickbay. While the rest of the ship was coming off the 'high' of being attacked, Sickbay was in full swing still. Cat had a quick chance to talk with the newest of the medical officers aboard the Galaxy. Milan was doing very well, Cat was impressed with her professionalism as well as her 'strength.' Been only on the Galaxy for a short time and already working in a 'war' situation.

Cat moved quickly to her next patient as he was brought in. Cat raised an eyebrow in surprise as she recoginised her newest charge. A Vulcan, but that didn't stop her from doing what she could for the man. Broken leg and massive blood loss were the diagnosis. Cat had his leg bound and Metropan applied to rapidly regenerate the break. The blood loss at this time was the major concern and Vulcan plasma was being given to him. Ensign T'Vek could have been in trouble if he hadn't been brought to Sickbay so soon. He needed to be watched carefully. "I wan't to know when he comes around."

As Cat turned to go to the next 'lucky contestant,' Cat chided herself, she was going a little stir crazy thinking things like that. 'How long have I been on duty?' lazily crossed her mind.

She almost walked into a security officer, "Yes, Hello?"

"Doctor, Ensign T'Vek had this in his hands when he was found near the turbolifts."

"What is it?"

"An engineering assessment of the damage to the Galaxy, some of the decks above and below here."

'Huh?', she thought. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

The security officer looked sheepish and Cat recognised that the female security officer was tired as much as anybody and probably not working at hundred and one percent. 'Like yourself huh?' crossed her mind.

"Take it down to Engineering and you when you have done that, get some rest - Doctor's Orders. Now Scram!"

The officer turned and left and for the first time, saw in all of the faces in Sickbay the tiredness in them all. But underlying it all was a determination that not one of them was going to quit.

Suddenly one of the patients being brought in were going into convulsions, 'Oh no not again!' Cat rushed over, as Milan was quick to sedate the woman. Cat also noticed that Ursa was quick on the uptake and had it almost under control. "What's going on here?"

Milan told Cat that the woman was reacting to the Eleamine Gas pumped to deal with the invaders. Cat listened to Milan's quick diagnosis and watched her quick action in helping the woman. Cat put a hand on Milan's shoulder, "You're doing great work Milan. Keep it up!"

Cat moved over to check the condition of Counsellor Ral, she had lost a lot of blood. Cat's mind brought up a fantastic image of a cruel and troubling mural on the walls of Sickbay. Rather than paints, it was made up of the different blood that was on the Galaxy. Cat continued on and kept at her duties. The more she tried, the more the yawns that she tried to hold back would force themselves to the surface. She shook her head, to clear her mind of the image of the mural.

A communication came from Miran, Deiran's wife. She had concerns about her husband condition. Knowing that Deiran would do everything is his power to stay out of Sickbay. 'If Muhammad would not come to the Mountain, then the Mountain is going to have to go see Muhammad.' Cat quickly went to the bridge and treated the errant acting Captain.

Not long after she had returned from the bridge, Counsellor Parker came over to her. "I'm told to talk to you about helping in Sickbay."

Cat looked at her, "Follow me counsellor!" Cat gave to Erin a tricorder. "Thanks Erin, I would like you just to be a second pair of hands if needed. Right now, you being a counsellor could be the greatest help to us right now. Also being another pair of eyes for the critical cases would be helpful."

Cat had Erin move through and keep up the morale of the patients. Some of the energetic ones, like a certain Ursa Sunder needed a lot of work. Not only did they need work to keep their morale, with out it, a lot of work was needed to keep it up. Moving past his bed, Cat gave Ursa a smile, hopefully the 'gentle giant' would learn to relax. He needed something to occupy his mind. "Ursa, We have a number of the injured hostile Klingons in Sickbay. Could you just check over the security procedures? I don't want a repeat of what happened with the Breen a few months ago."

Ursa looked up, he almost jumped out of the biobed, until he remembered his healing kidney and the regarding eye of 'his' doctor. "I'll look into it for you, Cat." As Cat moved by, she hoped that Ursa wouldn't realise too soon that she had invented that job for him.

She had to catch the Half Andorian/ Half Klingon that Milan treated a few hours ago. The woman was quite weak from the Eleamine Gas, but seemed determined to return to her duties. Cat would have much prefered for her to stay in Sickbay. But she was determined and so Cat let her leave. Cat set some notes for herself to look in on Ensign M'aerikh when she had a little time to spare.

Cat turned to see the third of the counsellors on the Galaxy. Counsellor Dallas had asked to help in the treatment of some of the injured. Cat pointed her over to some of the scrapes and cuts that had been shunted aside for the more serious cases.

Cat continued to watch her charges, to try and be in fourteen places at the same time. At the back of her mind was a voice telling her to slow down, to relax. She already had caught a couple of mistakes that she almost made. Cat knew she was tired, but she didn't have much of a choice, she had a job to do. Damn the consequences.

All of a sudden she felt something hard and warm in her hand. She looked down in surprise to see that Counsellor Dallas had given her a cup of raktijino. "Doctor Khatroweena, I think you could do with this."

Cat took a sip and went to put it down, "Thank you Counsellor, much appreciated."

"Doctor, I think it be better if you drank it all. I can see what you are thinking. I think Sickbay can do with out you for a couple of minutes, don't you? Why don't you take time to drink it and give yourself a chance to relax? Of course I could make it counsellor's orders." Karyn gave a small smile. "Do I need to stand here and watch you and make you relax. Cat gave in, it felt good to let the whirlwind rush her by and not have to worry about it for a couple of moments. As soon as she had finished the cup, she was going back to work. Right now, the raktijino tasted good.

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

"Returning, Decisions still Left"
by Lt. Thomas

Chris returned to the Klingon ship with the Away Team. He was exhausted from the recent mission, but mentally he was fine. Of course that would likely change once he got to talking with Belira about things, but he was ready for that one. He was just happy that the mission had been a success and they'd succeeded in stopping the genetic mutation of the Klingon race into something more dangerous than the Jem'Hadar.

He decided that he'd arrange to spend all of his free time talking with her, as there was so much on the line that he wasn't willing to just give up on that easily. He spent the time thinking about how to deal with the subject, and not cause more harm then good. He considered his strategy well for he knew this was going to be his only chance to convince her that he was still in love with her and that he held what they had with honor.

He took a deep breath and set off to find her. He had spent only an hour working out his plan, before he ditched it and chose to let his heart lead. He figured that if it was allowed to lead the way, then perhaps just perhaps it would show her that he still was an honorable man. With that decision made he set off to talk with her, as they had a few days to do that before they reached the Galaxy.

** livings quarters on the ship **

Chris approached Belira's quarters. Well here goes nothing he thought to himself and crossed his fingers. He pressed on the buzzer, letting her know that someone was here to see her.

The door opened to relieve Belira standing there glaring at him.

"Belira we need to talk, about our history. I will answer any and all questions you ask of me, but we need to talk. I don't want to leave you every again, if you're willing to have me back in your life. I will try to explain my actions, my feelings, all of it to you." Chris said hopping beyond hope that she'd just finish hearing him out over the next few days. "Please at least just listen to what I have to say and then you can make up your mind."

She stood there thinking about what or how to respond to him. "Very well, I will listen, but I don't promise anything beyond that at this moment. If you truly are my deceased husband, then you know who I was and will see what happens."

Chris was thankful for the chance to talk and share with her his side of the story, even if meant bending a few rules. He decided that love and happiness or at least a shot at them was wroth the price. Plus he was pretty confident that he could do this without, giving away anything that would still be classified. Which he was pretty sure, was just some of the things he did, whilst living as a Klingon and had little to do with his love and marriage to Belira.

"Come in, I am sure not going to let the ship hear this."

"Thank you, I was hopping to keep this private for now." Chris said as he entered her quarters which were just like most of the other ones on this ship. The only quarters on this ship that would be different were the captain's.

They both headed for the only place that you could sit down on. This was going to be awaked considering they'd be sitting right next to each other versus sitting opposite of each other.

He turned to face her, after they'd sat down. He then proceed to tell her everything about why he was there and why he chose to marry here, despite the fact he wasn't truly a Klingon. He wasn't sure how she would take hearing this information, but he'd made two decisions when he started this round of talking. First he'd let his heart lead the way and secondly he was going to try and explain everything that he could to her. She deserved to know the truth even if, the results in the end weren't the ones he was looking for, but he felt this was very important.

"I was an Ensign in Starfleet it had just been a few after I graduated from Starfleet Academy that the SI came back around and requested my help on a new assigment. If I had been able to see into the future, I might've done things differently. I accepted the assignment never the less, and spent 5 intense weeks in learning how to become a Klingon. This wasn't my first time in learning to become someone, I wasn't to start with. As a cadet, my training time was spent a Romulan working of course for Starfleet Intelligence.

"After completing my training, I was provided transportation to the Klingon empire, via a number of different routes once I was close to the boarder. I had already learned to speak Klingon before taking this mission, as I made the trip which took about a week to complete. I learned a lot and improved my ability to live as Klingon in a hurry during this time." Chris continued to relay the story from departure to finish, and allowing Belira plenty of time to ask questions about his motives and reasons behind doing such things. He answered them with love and honor, and the would continue to tell what transpired, providing his own personally feelings, making it into a story.

Christopher Patton
Lt. Christopher Thomas - USS Galaxy - AES

"Getting back on our feet"

Jack entered sickbay, his legs wobbly, feeling like they were made of rubber, his whole body wet with perspiration. The place was a vision of controlled chaos as medical personnel ran around, helping the injured. The moaning, the screaming, the smell, the bodies… it all brought back memories of the Nimrod. There too, he had seen this before, his crewmates, wounded, dead or dying. It was bad enough if it happened fighting the enemy, but to have to suffer like this at the hands of one's allies, that was unforgivable. Walking up to a harried feline officer, he scraped his throat.

"Excuse me, sir, but if you have a free moment, could you check out my injury. In the meantime, if you could direct me to your triage facility, I would be most grateful."

The officer turned around, the sadness and grief in her eyes almost a physical force. Without a word, she immediately scanned him with her tricorder.

"Ensign, do you realize…."

Jack wasn't completely listening anymore, rather, he was concentrating on standing upright. However, the deck didn't seem to cooperate.

"Ensign, are you listening to me? You have lost a lot of blood. You need to lie down so we can start replacing it and work on your wounds."

Hawkins smiled a rare smile, responding to the doctor's admonition.

"Lay down? I think that that is a splendid idea", he said before the floor obligingly tilted sideways and slammed into him, taking him away from the pain.

Several hours later.

With a low groan, Jack woke up, laying flat on his stomach. It took him some time to focus on his whereabouts but then he managed to open one eye, then the next. The feeling in his body began to come back, for which he was grateful, until the pain in his back made him think twice about the wisdom of wanting it.

"Easy does it, mister."

D'Auria groggily turned his head, looking straight into the face of a nurse.

"You'll be fine. I know it hurts, but we had to do a complete skin graft on your back. It was completely burned away and the flesh underneath wasn't much better. We repaired all that we could and replaced what we couldn't. In a few days, you'll be alright, provided you do as the doctor says. You are off duty and in sickbay for the next 72 hours."

"That is unacceptable. I am needed for repairs. Where are my clothes?"

He tried to stand up, the pain shooting through his body like wildfire, making him suppress a groan.

"Cat!"

"Now what?"

The feline medical officer came into view, looking even more exhausted then the last time.

"The ensign is questioning your medical opinion. He insists on leaving to return to his duties."

"Does he now?"

She turned towards him, her medical tricorder scanning him.

"Well, ensign, tell me, where did you get your medical degree?"

"I don't have a medical degree."

"I see. But still, you question my diagnosis. Do you know that your back was almost completely gone? Most of the flesh was either burned or almost irreparably damaged. It is a miracle you are still alive. Now get back into that bed, before you strain the new skin and tissue."

D'Auria didn't listen and got up. Big mistake, as soon as he was standing, his legs gave and he landed on the floor, a sharp pain shooting through his back accompanied by a wet ripping sound.

"Oh no, help me get him back on the bed. The skin didn't hold."

The two medical officers unceremoniously placed him back on the bed. Taking a hypospray with an aenestatic, pressing it against his neck, she said, "Now, if you promise to behave yourself while I close you up again, you might be able to leave in three days. In the meantime, I suggest you take it easy. Not too much sudden movements. The flesh is still tender as is the skin. You could rip it all apart by being stubborn. You will stay here, and no more arguments."

"Yes, doctor", he said, his voice cracking slightly as the pain slowly subsided and he nodded off again. With a sigh, the doctor began repairing the damage.

::two days later::

Jack had finally convinced doctor Khathroweena to let him go; his wounds had healed sufficiently for him to walk on his own. He had to promise not to overextend himself in the next week and come by every day for a checkup. And he would only be allowed to do light duty. D'Auria was one of the last science officers to leave, T'Vek, who only had broken a leg being gone before him.

He had gone straight to his quarters, which oddly enough, were pristine, not a thing out of place. It was strange, considering the pounding the Galaxy had received from the Klingons. After taking a long, hot shower, Jack got into a clean uniform. He slipped a small gun and ammo into his right boot, knowing full well it was against regulations. However, his time on the border listening post and on the Nimrod had taught him a great deal when it came to survival. The recent battle with the Klingons had once again shown that it paid to be prepared.

It was still hours before Gamma shift, but since everywhere on the ship, the damage repair crews were still busy, he decided to take a look at the science labs. At the very least, they were sure to be a mess. A few minutes later, he saw his assumption was right.

The main science bay looked like it had been hit by a tornado, consoles were destroyed, burned out. Shattered equipment lay everywhere. With a sigh, he began the cleanup. After he had finished that, he would get going on repairing as much of the damage as possible, until the engineers came in for the big repairs. As he was moving through the debris, a thought occurred to him.

The C-defense he had heard about had done some good in defending the ship. He had read a book once, in which several automated defense systems in the late 20th century had been described. Now, he was wondering why such things weren't standard equipment on starships. It was an intriguing challenge; he was already working on increasing the efficiency of the sensors. He could do more then that, he could take the work he had done on the Nimrod, add it to the C-defense and other systems to turn it into a cohesive defense system. Slowly, a smile spread across his face as he put broken equipment, glass and other stuff in a self-contained reclamator.

'Back to past future's', he thought to himself.

Ensign M'Benga approached the holodeck. Holodeck 4. She touched an actuator, and the computer confirmed the holodeck empty.

"Computer, run program. " she began, " Lake side setting."

"Specify. " replied the computer.

"Oh, lemme see, " said Be'Tran aloud, " Betazed, lake Elnara. "

" Working, " came the computer's responce, " Program complete, you may enter when ready." The huge holodeck doors slid open with their traditional groan and Be'Tran slipped inside.

The setting inside was beautifu, just as she remembered when her mother had taken her and one of her brothers to visit Betazed when she was 9. "Maybe, the computer read my mind. " the doors groaned shut behind her.

"Computer, " she called out

to what seemed to be outdoor landscape. The computer came on. " Create a beach-lounging chair, risian style. A picknic basket. Oh, yes, anda bathing suit, one-piece, late 20th century style. "

" Working." came the computer's standard response. Within seconds the items Be'Tran had requested were laid out for her on the holodeck floor, or, rather, the banks of Lake Elnara.

She picked up the bathing suit. She hadn't chosen the color, but the computer seemed to have good taste. She liked bright reds (they highlited her skin), and thats what the computer gave her, with a splash of orange down the front. She took off her uniform, tossing it near the picnic basket, and put on the swimsuit.

This was her first "leisure time" in days. Commander Sterner had been correct. The Galaxy was a busy ship. But busier still because of the Klingons. Her CO, whom she also considdered a friend, Lieutenant Hewson, had explained the whole situation to her; the whole plot, and now she was just damn glad Cpt. Price had enterviened. 'What the hell is wrong with my people. ' she thought, " Well, they're not my only people. " she said aloud, maybe that was why she was visiting Betazed, via the holodeck; maybe it was time she got intouch with her other two facets. Both her Human and Betazoid sides had been severly neglected sience her grandfather's death 5 years ago. No more!

She plunged into the lake. It was cold. Oh, she was still a Klingon; she had a Klingon heart ( both emotionaly, and biologicly), and she wasn't going to let some underhanded shenanigans of the high council darken her pride. They were politicians, and leaders; history had always shown that the politicians and leaders of a people very rarely reflected the whole of the populace. She was just going to braoden her enterests, that was all.

She climbed out of the lake, and plopped her dripping form ( she hadn't requested a towell) into the lounge-chair. " Computer, music."

" Specify type; " the computer began, " Andorian blues, Klingon opera, Argolian Ceremonial..."

" Earth, " said Be'tran, " Late 20th century 'Alternative' Rock-and-Roll. "

" Artists; " said the computer, " Hootie & The Blowfish, The Wallflowers, Matchbox 20, Wilco... "

"Counting Crows, " Be'Tran interrupted, " start with 'Have You Seen Me Lately'.", the computer complied and the guitar dominated rock of Adam Duritz and the Counting Crows ( a 1990's American group) began to fill the holodeck.

Be'Tran stood up out of the lounge-chair and started to dance, going over all the different things she had helped repair int the past few days. The lights in ten forward (where she met V'Ehlma, her new friend, she hoped, from the Navigations department), the turbolifts (talk about hands-on experience), transporter room 3. She stopped dancing, and stooped for the picnic basket.

She tipped the lid up, and peered inside. She was getting very hungry.

*** EMPTY ***

She had forgot to have the computer replicate any food into the basket!!

=/\= "Tying Up the Ends" =/\=
by Lt Matthew Albrecht

The doors to the cargo bay control room slapped shut behind him with little finality. Matthew knew he was leaving their Klingon captives in good care. Once the remaining invaders were collected from Sickbay, they would all be in secure facilities. The lower-level detention area was still online, making an excellent place for keeping the rowdiest Klingons behind individual forcefields.

With that thought, Albrecht's comm badge chirped to life. It followed the chirp with the voice of one of the newest officers in Security, "Ensign Moray to Lt. Albrecht..." The ensign spoke in an carefree voice, totally belying the circumstances he was in.

The lieutenant replied, "Go ahead, Moray. How are things in the detention area?" He didn't break stride on his way to Sickbay. He was anxious to let 'commander Sunder in on the latest Security events. Surely the 'commander was feeling in the dark and wishing he could take charge and leave his biobed.

Moray replied, "Sir, the forcefields have become unstable due to the repairs being conducted. I recommend we move these prisoners into the cargo bay with the others," he concluded.

Matthew did not realize that the ensign was controlling his prisoners not with energy barriers but with intimidation. Had he known, he might have worried about the situation. "Alright, sounds wise. Go ahead and request whatever assistance you require from Jacqui, she'll get you some people," he suggested. He lifted his PADD and began to enter the prisoner transfer authorization into his log.

Moray answered, "Sir, support will not be necessary. I have the prisoners under control." He sounded exceedingly confident.

The walking, PADD updating officer added, "Very good, ensign. One more thing; Strip your prisoners of all potentially harmfull belongings, even if it means taking their suspenders and their trousers drop. Commander Casey wants to make sure none of these cowboys leave the cattle drive early, understand?" By getting the procedure out of the way, his cargo bay personell would have less to worry about as they went about doing the same to their existing prisoners.

The reply was short--two words. "Affirmative, sir."

**** later, Sickbay ****

Sickbay was still bustling with activity. As he passed through the doors, alert nurses gave him the once over to see if he required care. He calculated that he was given approximately six once-overs, making it more like a six- over! The odd thought made him grin lopsidedly. They surely noticed his bandaged hands and red, burned face, but rightly determined he was not there for medical attention.

On one bed, a blue-skinned Klingon with antannae writhed. She appeared to be suffering from the Eleamine gas worse than the recovering Klingons in the cargo bay. It was nearly painful to look at, considering that he had given the final orders to allow the gas attack to take place. He absently ran his fingers over his throat while he considered how the woman must feel--finally deciding he could not truly know what she was going through. Matthew passed her bed on his way to see 'commander Sunder. He pushed aside the guilt, although it was worse somehow than the guilt he felt in connection with the deceased security officers he was responsible for.

Ensign Bishop was there, as well. He was stirring just as Matthew met Ursa at the next bed. Numa Taureen came from across the room, and Ursa stood from his bed; The three officers met around the wounded Andorian's biobed. They passed greetings, and Matthew and ensign Taureen entertained Ursa with a description of Xavier's deeds during the Klingon attack. They were interrupted by Bishop's anachronistic light chuckle. "Good to see you among the living, Xaev," Matthew said, and leaned down to clutch his friends arm.

The four of them traded jibes until Bishop could no longer remain awake. Taureen headed off to see to her duties, and the two senior security officers were left to discuss their department. Albrecht gave his chief the story of the conflict from security's point of view, "...Communications were limited, and most of this I picked up from later conversations with Jacqui and Mason. Of course, the parts I was there for are fairly accurate..." Both men shook their heads at the numbers of personnel lost. Security had drilled and drilled for boarding party scenarios in the weeks before entering Klingon space. They were fairly sure the department had been as prepared as possible for the attack.

Ursa interrupted Matthew's retelling to ask, "How exactly did you burn yourself? You left that part out," he pointed out. Matthew reluctantly described his makeshift personal forcefield shield, and how he managed to survive his three-to-one ordeal on deck ten. He made a point of explaining the value ensign Bishop had been running main security during the first part of the conflict.

**** Still later, lt. Gakor's apartment ****

Albrecht blinked his eyes several times quickly, to clear his blurry vision. He was as tired as he could remember ever being. The large fish tank bubbled, its surface in turmoil from the filters and pumps. He shook some flakes of Tropical Fish supplement number seven onto the water at the tank's top. Spines was already there, gulping up mouths full of tankwater in premature attempts to feed. He was hungry, having skipped his last feeding time.

The officer leaned his face against the transparent surface of the tank, letting its cool, smooth face cool his. Spines ignored him, instead eating his fill of the nutritious flakes. Matthew backed away from the fish, and sat upon the comfortable, overstuffed sofa chair Gakor had nearby. It offered a clear view of the tank with its rare tropical sea plants swaying back and forth hypnotically. Under normal circumstances it was always a relaxing sight; In his worn-out condition, it put him right to sleep.

He was snoring for forty minutes, his head lolling back against the cushions. He finally woke to the sound of his comm badge. "Casey to Albrecht," Deiran said in a neutral voice.

Startled, and a little embarrassed, Matthew replied, "Albrecht here sir." He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

Casey began with, "How is Sunder, Lieutenant?" Matthew wondered why the Galaxy's acting captain didn't call his chief of security personally, finally deciding that the man's time was filled with other responsibilities. He was obviously concerned with the 'commander's condition, since the question was the first thing he said.

Matthew remembered his visit to sickbay, "Still in sickbay recovering. He’s getting better. He may just get himself thrown out of sickbay by the nurses with all the complaining he does." He and Casey shared a laugh at the image of Ursa Sunder terrorizing the medical staff of sickbay.

Deiran continued, "Well, according to my security program files, Xala tried to break into the ship’s computer again. And according to her parole, when she has committed an infraction twice she is to be returned to Earth. It’s out of my hands. So make sure she gets her belongings gathered together. When Captain Price returns, and he’s lifted the ban on the comm traffic, we’ll make sure she’s extradited to earth. Let Sunder know and make sure he knows he’ll need to fill out a report on the matter. Got that Lieutenant?"

"Aye sir, I’m going to visit him now," Albrecht replied. He wanted an excuse to check on the wounded security officers anyway.

"Good, be sure and tell him I said to get well soon. We need him," Casey said genuinely.

Matthew stood from the little sofa, and straightened his uniform tunic. He assured the other officer, "Will do, Captain."

From the comm badge came "Casey out."

Picking up his uniform jacket and making a quick 'goodbye' to Spines, the security officer made his way out of Gakor's rooms. He thought for a moment about how he hadn't really had a chance to miss his friend while she was away, he had been so busy. Then he was on his way to Sickbay to report to 'commander Sunder on the Xala issue. Right after that, he would visit the woman and perform his duty--Strange, he hadn't passed more than a few words with the woman the entire time she was aboard.

Lt Matthew Albrecht
Security officer
USS Galaxy NCC 70637

Scene: Lower Level Detention Area, USS Galaxy.

Ensign Moray: Ok, You heard the Lieutenant. Harrison, since your at the main console why don't you perform a level one sensor sweep of the inner brig.

Ensign Harrison: Sure. Stand bye.

Harrisons hands dance across the LCAR displays of the security console, as a blue scanning field forms against the wall of the inner brig and begins to sweep across the brig area. The field sweeps over the Klingons, and dissipates before contact with the far wall of the brig. Harrison reviews the results of the field sweep on the screen display of the console before speaking.

Harrison: Looks like the Klingons are clean, nothing was missed in the earilyer searches.

Moray: Good. Prepare to beam Klingon prisoners to the Cargo Detention area.

Harrison: Transporters standing by. Power is tight, but within exceptable limits.

Ensign's McKnight and Moray move into a cover positions on the brig, raising their phaser rifles.

McKnight: Suppose I should tell them where there going?

Moray: (Pretending to think it over)... No....Energize.

Harrison triggers the beamout from the security console, capturing the Klingon Warriors in the shimmering Federation transporter effect. In a few seconds, the harmonic chimes of the transporters energy effect fade, as throughout the room weapons are lowered.

Moray: Just anouther wonderful day in Star Fleet. (Smiling)

Both Harrison and McKnight smile, allowing the tension to fade from there tired forms.

McKnight: Well, were off shift in a few minutes, I guess Im buying in Ten Forward...

Harrison: Sounds good to me..

Moray: Only if we make it interesting..I've been wanting to try this special stock of Romulan Ale.....

"Time to Move On"
By: Lt. (jg) Ryak Sullax

Ryak started to do some scans of the Galaxy to see actually what sensors were not functioning. Ryak started to collect all of the data he could and loaded it into his padd. Ryak's mind kept drifting off to the prospect of a son. He couldn't imagine that it was possible.

******* Romulus ********

A woman slowly walks over to Ryak. Ryak looks towards her thinking that she was yet another Romulan to come and spit on him. She walks up to his table and looks into his eyes.

"I am Centurian T'Sel, Sella." The vision stated.

Ryak shook his head and tried to bring himself from staring. "Um.....I....Yes...." Ryak pointed to the chair.

Sella sat down and started to talk to Ryak. "BEEP"

****** USS Galaxy ******

Ryak snaps to to see that his download was complete. Ryak typed up a request for a shuttle pilot and sent it out to all departments. Ryak started to calibrate the sensors starting from what he could do on the bridge.

An hour had passed before Ryak received his first reply. After the requests were in Ryak called them up on his screen.

"There are three requests." the computer stated.

"Display requests." Ryak replied.

The first request was from Ensign Jack D'Auria.

"Computer what is the race of all three applicants?"

"All three applicants are Human."

"Computer is not Ensign D'Auria in science?"

"Correct Ensign D'Auria is a science officer."

"Computer the other two are pilots correct?"

"Correct."

"Do any of the applicants speak Romulan?"

"Ensign Aaron Sharp is the only applicant that speaks the language."

"Computer correlate the possible scenario's for a Trip to Romulus with each shuttle pilot and calculate the best choice."

The computer started to run scenario's through. The first person removed from the list was Ensign George Prince. The computer ran some more scenario's the came up with a decision.

"The best choice is Ensign Sharp."

"What was the deciding factor?"

"Ensign Sharp has the ability to converse in Romulan."

"Computer send a message to Ensign D'Auria and Prince and thank them for assisting in this mission but regretfully the position has been filled."

Ryak looked at the time and saw that his shift was almost up. "Lt Sullax to Ensign Sharp."

"Ensign Sharp here sir."

"Ensign when you have some time could you come to my quarters. I would like to discuss our journey to Romulus. We will be leaving as soon as the Galaxy leaves Klingon space." Ryak sta

rted to feel that his Romulan arrogance was still very strong as he talked.

"Aye sir, anything else?"

"Yes Ensign one more thing. I expect you to bring your ideas on the best shuttle for the job and I assume you are capable of having the request for the shuttle and the route plan filed by the time I wish to leave." This time Ryak tried to tone down his arrogance but not to any luck.

"Aye sir."

"Be there soon, Sullax out."

Ryak finished up the few things he had to do and slowly and painfully made his way back to his quarters. The only thing on his mind was his son.

Chris Gagne
A.K.A. Lieutenant(JG.) Ryak Sullax
Science Officer
USS Galaxy
Contact at: i2qtnot2b@hotmail.com

"Duties call."
by Lieutenants Greer Erikson and Tebrianne Bancroft

Greer sat there for a few more moments after responding to Tebrianne's message. Prior to this whole mess with the Klingons, Greer had been discussing some unusual occurrences in personal research that he and Lieutenant Albrecht had been conducting. The whole situation had been a little too coincidental, especially since they had independently identified the discrepancies to the same period of time. Not generally the kind of person to jump to a conclusion, Erikson reminded himself of the personal notes he had made during his discussion with Matthew in the Ready Room and decided where he wanted to go with his part of the whole issue.

"Erikson to Taurean." Greer said as he stood up.

["Taurean here sir."] the sound of the Benzite's voice acknowledged. ["Please don't tell that we're having problems with the sensors crashing again."]

"Fortunately not. Actually, I was hoping that that you might run an analysis on some mineral samples for me please."

["I don't see why not. What are the scans of?"]

"A Klingon artifact. More specifically a very old knife. I ran an analysis of it a few days ago, but to be honest, I would rather the opinion of someone with a specialization in mineralogy to confirm or deny my own assessment." Erikson explained. "What I need to is to confirm that the artifact is actually from the time it is claimed. You can find all of the details in the tricorder scans I took on Boreth."

["I'll get it done as soon as I can Lieutenant. Taurean out."]

*** Deck Ten: Ten Forward ***

Walking into the Ten Forward lounge, Greer giving cursory glances until he spotted Tebrianne, sitting at a table by herself. This particular situation reminded him of the night before the mission to Kal-Dixas, except it had been him sitting at the table by himself and she came over and started talking. It had been that Ten Forward that Greer had first met Tebrianne, and since that time last year, they had become good friends.

Although there was no real reason for him to remember at this point in time, he tried to remember what color her hair was at that time. "Purple." he said thinking out aloud. One of the crewmen at the bar gave him an odd look for muttering the single word which really didn't seem to have any purpose or meaning to her.

"Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening." he said as he approached the table. Tebrianne was dressed up. Leather and stockings. It wasn't typical of what he had seen her dressed in, but certainly not as unusual as some of the things he had seen Ronni dressed in.

"Which?" Tebrianne asked.

"I don't remember." Greer said with a playful expression of confusion. "It's been so long I can't remember what time of the day it's supposed to be. Then ofcourse we've been working on those damn sensors."

"Tell me about it. The navigational computer was not pleased at all those maneuvers, not to mention the disrupter fire." she said before looking at the waiter. "A raktajino please."

"And a macchiato for me." Greer added. "I could well imagine." he said as he returned to their conversation. "Once we started getting somewhere with the sensors, we discovered that we've still had a few minor problems with some of the science labs. Nothing that shouldn't be fixed before the Captain returns. Have you heard anything?"

"Not yet," Tebrianne replied. She seemed slightly distracted--as if something were on her mind.

"Thank you." Greer said as the waiter handed him his beverage. "Whatever it is, just don't think about it and will mostly likely not get you down."

"Thank you," Teb said as the waiter placed her raktajino on the table in front of her. After he'd left, she glanced at Greer. "That's much easier said than done," she said, trying not to let him know exactly what she was thinking about.

Tebrianne took a sip of her raktajino. Why was she drinking raktajino? To stay awake? And, so she wouldn't fall asleep while in the middle of talking to Greer. "So...," she said breaking the silence. "Cat tells me you have a jazz club holodeck program? That sounds really fab."

"Just an old program that I've had for some time now. It's actually modeled on a jazz club on Bourbon Street that I once saw when I was visiting New Orleans. It's not the same as actually being there, but when you that many light years away from the real thing you don't really seem to mind that much. You've definitely got to take a look at it some time." Erikson said as he changed the tone of his voice. "I think you'd probably like it."

"I've got a few programs of old clubs and auditoriums my band played before I joined Starfleet. Did you know I had a band before joining Starfleet?"

"Really? I knew that you played an instrument, and wanted to start a band on the ship, but I didn't realize you had already been in a band before. You must have loved your music."

"Yeah," she said, stirring her coffee absently. "Fifteen years old and the lead singer and guitarist for one of the more popular bands of the London Neo-Punk scene of 2369. You probably couldn't tell I'm a punker, could you?" Tebrianne gave Greer a big smile and ruffled her red forelock. "I know it's not mainstream or anything, and you don't see many Starfleet officers dressed like this, but I guess it is my way of displaying my individuality while off-duty." Teb nervously ran a finger over the earrings in one of her pointed ears.

"Fifteen?" he said as he nearly choked on his macchiato. "That means you were fifteen when I was . . . well it was the year that I was assigned to the Vulcan Science Academy. Goodness, you sure know how to make a guy feel old." Greer joked subtly.

Tebrianne laughed. "It's hard to imagine it was so long ago when we first both met in here, before your mission to Kal Dixas," Teb said with a smile. "Crikey, I was still an ensign then. Now look at me. A lieutenant and the head of the helm department. I guess I still dress the same, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that. I mean I've never seen you actually wear what you have on now." he said as he shook his head. "Not only that, but your hair color has changed a number of times since then." he added with a smile.

"You know what is really strange? I am the Chief Helmsman of the USS Galaxy, but I'm younger than everyone else in the helm department. Who would've thought..."

Teb looked down into her empty raktajino glass as the waiter approached.

"I guess I'm due for a refill," she said to Greer. "Yeah, mate, I'll just have a lager."

"One lager," the waiter said with a smile. "And anything for you, sir?"

"A Balso tonic thanks." he said before turning back to Tebrianne. "I think you've simply run into more opportunities for advancement than most. Prior to this assignment, I spent two years on Vulcan and an addition two years on Earth. In both instances there just wasn't much of an oppurtunity for advancement. As of two years ago I was the only one of my friends that had never been promoted to the rank of a junior grade lieutenant."

"So I guess you're making up for lost time now."

"Not really. It's as I said, there's simply more room for advancement on a starship. I requested assignment to the Galaxy because I wanted a chance to see what was out there. I guess I've just been lucky that I got noticed along the way."

"Still, it seems like we've . . ."

["Engineering to Lieutenant Bancroft."] the voice of the young officer said as it interrupted Tebrianne mid-speech.

Greer looked at the chief helmsman. "Duty calls."

"Bancroft here." Tebrianne said as she tapped the communicator hidden under her leather jacket. "Go ahead Ensign."

["Sorry to bother you Lieutenant. We've got the navigational computer working properly again and I think you should probably have a look at it. Just in case."]

"Understood," Tebrianne said a little disappointed, looking at Greer with an apologetic expression, "I'll be there shortly. Bancroft out."

"We just seem to be unable to sit down and have a conversation without a disruption. Really though, I should probably get back to some work myself." Greer said as he placed down his empty glass. "Just don't let me forget about showing you that jazz club program."

"Don't worry," Tebrianne said with a smile, "I won't."

"Do you remember?"
By: Ensign Christopher Isaac Campbell

Ensign Campbell rolled over on his other side. Times like this; when he was alone with nothing much to occupy his mind, the memories from his year on the S.I stealth ship The Serpent came to him.

Memories that would make him ashamed of having followed orders. Memories that would make him disgusted by Starfleet. Memories that would make him nauseous. Memories, so unfairly bestowed on him.

He closed his eyes. Maybe he would be lucky enough to fall asleep and, if only for a few hours, escape from his meaninglesness life. Chris wasn't lucky. Instead, teh memories became clearer before his eyes, with nothing else for them to see. So detailed and real:

"Fire!"

Lt. Commander Cervius yelling.

"Fire! Take it out!"

Christopher quickly opened his eyes. Still the memories came.

Chris saw the small Ferengi trade-ship, no match for the Serpent, trying to escape. In vain. Chris, controlling the Combat Station on Beta Shift, had already damaged the ship.

"Fire! That's an order!" Lt. Commander Cervius turning at him. "We have our orders, Ensign!"

Christopher swallowed hard. "Computer," He said, "play Campbell #3 and increase light strenght with 25%." His quarters brightened up and classical music filled the room.

A helpless ship, with no crime commited other then to accidently have stumbled over information Starfleet rather they didn't have. Helpless. Yet, no mercy. "Fire!"

Christopher, now realizing the efforts to escape his memories were totally hopeless closed his eyes and rolled over on his back.

His hand responding to Starfleet training and responding to orders, even befor his head did, reached out at the controls and fired two blasts from the phaser banks. The Ferengi ship, with shields at eleven percent, having no chance started exploding.... At least Chris didn't have memories of that other then seeing the viewscreen lighting up through his closed eyelids.

Christopher, lying completly still in his bunk, swallowed hard once, before slowly drifting asleep with the lights and the music on.

Joel
aka Ensign Campbell

Don’t let him escape!
Ensign Keras T’Vek
Science Officer
USS Galaxy

Ensign Keras T’Vek eyes open and he slowly took in his surroundings, he noticed a clock and he immediately recognized that he would be late for his shift if he did not act fast. He was apparently in sickbay, laying on one of the bio beds with a IV attached to his arm. No one had noticed that he was awake yet, or else he would probably attracted some attention by now, of course Sickbay was slightly overcrowded he thought. He attempted to move his leg, sending a small amount of pain shooting up through his leg, but nothing he could not suppress. He tested the rest of his body to make sure he was able to move and complete task without major impediment.

Glancing around to make sure the nurses were elsewhere he slowly unhooked himself from the IV, waiting for the an alarm to go off notifying the doctors off his attempt to get back to his duties. He glanced at his uniform to notice it was still blood soaked and the entire left legging had been removed to help get at the leg.

He slowly rose from the bed glancing around the room, placing most of his weight on his strong leg, allowing his weak leg to take up a little bit of the slack. Pain shot up through his leg as he carefully made his way toward the exit. A large man was yelling something at the nurses and was giving him an adequate distraction. When all of a sudden he felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice say, "Where do you think you are going?"

He turned on his good foot to face Doctor Khatroweena, holding on to a cup of what appeared to me some sort of stimulant. She was ragged and a little rough around the edges from lack of sleep, but still gave the aura of control in her sickbay.

"Doctor, I was heading toward my cabin to prepare for my shift. I did not wish to be late, since I am sure that my abilities may be of some use do to the damage."

"I am sure that the Science Department will live with out you." She said smiling as she laid him on to the Bio Bed.

"I did not wish to imply that my presence is needed, I am quite sure my fellow Science Officers can full fill there duties above and beyond what is the norm…" He could not finish as Doctor Khatroweena applied a hypo to the nape of his neck. "Now when you wake up you should be able to go back to duty…", was all he heard as his mind fought the depressant that sent him into a blissful sleep.

****SOME TIME LATER****

Keras awoke to see the familiar surroundings of Sickbay, he glanced at the clock he had seen earlier to see that he had been asleep for several hours, his body feeling quite refreshed. He slowly rose from his bed to see one of the nurses approaching him.

"I hear that you attempted to escape."

"I was merely attempting to return to duty."

The nurse glanced at him with a bemused smile. "Well you seem fine but I recommend some more sleep after you leave. You are fit to return to you duties", she said with a smile.

Keras nodded and slowly made his way out of the Sickbay, noticing that the man that had supplied the distraction earlier still looked disgruntled.

Outside he was greeted by two different Security Officers guarding sickbay. He quickly made his way to the turbolift with any hesitation, the chances of the even occurring again after repairs was very unlikely. In a matter of minutes he was in his room, and exchanging his dirty uniform for a clean one. He showered quickly before putting it on then was out the door holding onto a PADD containing information on a lab one of the Science Officers had asked him to look at. His shift had ended some time ago so he decided to head to Ten-Forward, he was a little hungry and his mouth seemed parched.

He soon arrived after using a working turbolift, his route having no difficulties. Ten-Forward was sparsely populated. A few people sat at a bar, he could see the CSO engaged in conversation with a young female, who had her hair colored. He spotted a table away from the mainstream of things near one of the windows looking out into the heavens and he sat down, looking over the PADD when he was disturbed by a waiter asking for his order.

"White rice with bread, and a glass of cold water." The waiter looked a little puzzled but left and came back with his order. He had encountered rice when he was in the Academy and it favored him. He took sips from the glass containing the water as he ate and looked at the PADD. Now and then he stopped and glanced out the window into space. The planet below hung against the stars like a large juggernaut floating through space, he could see the sun of the solar system just beginning to show its face over the side of the planet. The beams lancing out to send the darkness back to the caves, while the stars and distant galaxies danced.

" Clothes! " Sunder shouted at the first hapless nurse that unfortunately found himself in his way.

He'd had enough.

Sickbay had finally managed to overpower the security chief's tolerance level, erupting into an uncharacteristically short-fused temper. Within seconds the medtech had accessed the replicator and brought Sunder his uniform, not even stopping to think if he had been released from Sickbay yet.

Before fully divesting himself of the short sickbay smock that had earned him several humorous chuckles, Sunder allowed himself a quick check on Bishop. The Andorian was healing nicely according to the diagnostic bed - at least what Sunder could make out from the display. Well, at least none of it was in red lighting, he decided. Still, the blue-skinned security officer was owed a joke at his own expense Sunder decided. He'd wait until Bishop was doing a lot better though.

He grimaced as he dressed. His side was still tender, tender as in hit with a meat hammer. Still, he was grateful for the pain. The pain told him he was lucky and alive. He just wished that it would speak a little less emphatically.

Quickly making sure that Felicia wasn't around to order him back into bed, Sunder stepped through the sickbay door and back onto regular duty. A slight sigh of relief escaped him as he walked once more among the land of the healthy and mobile. He took his time getting to the security office. He had reports to make - blessed reports! Boring, humdrum and anally administrative though they were, they were surely better than staring at the stark, white ceiling in sickbay! Stepping into the turbo-lift, he swore that if he ever complained about a report again he would check himself into the medical bay for a few hours to remind him what boredom was really like.

The turbo-lift gave a slight lurch, forcing Sunder to wince a bit, but was on its way to the security office. He would have checked Ten-Forward first to see if Xala was alright, but he needed to check things at the office first, as it were. If there had been anything serious, it would have come to his attention in sickbay, despite his infirmity he reasoned.

Straightening out his uniform, he stepped into the hallway and evaluated the outside of the security office.

... And he thought he looked bad.

What a mess, he observed ruefully. Ugly scabs of melted bulkhead permeated the entire area - the whole deck it seemed. The walls were no longer their uniform grey colour. Now it was criss-crossed with blue, sulphouric yellow, black and brown. Doors were absent, revealing open offices and workrooms in much the same shape as the corridor.

The security offices were worse off. Being a key target during the boarding action, it had suffered greatly. While the outside damage was mostly cosmetic, security was a shambles. The brigs were uninhabitable, the electronic locks were inoperative, and the main consoles looked as if they had been used for target practice - which, they had, in a sense.

He shook his head and looked for his own office. By a happy stroke of luck, the specially fitted chair he had brought with him from OP77 was still intact. His side complained noisely as he leaned down to right it. Once it was on its feet, Sunder sank gratefully into its interior. Of course, the room was a mess, but the scores of maintenance and security people working like fevered bees in the area gave him a degree of optimism that the place would be back to shape within a reasonable amount of time.

His desk was still standing as well. Most of his bric-a-brac was lying around the room in various states of composition. He'd have his hands full repairing all the bits-n-pieces - along with his military miniatures in his quarters, he suddenly remembered. Back to the drawing board, he silently muttered.

Finally the figure of Mathew Albrecht outside in the main node caught his eye. Another one he'd have to mention in the reports. From what little gossip he'd been able to salvage down in sickbay, Albrecht had acquitted himself quite admirably in the action. Now here he was, apparently supervising some of the refitting and repair work. He got up and slowly made his way over to the door, leaning on it heavily.

" No, damn it! The main console was a three-seated fixture! I know you can't see the emplacements! That's because we ripped them out and used them for barricades! " Albrecht shouted at a maintenance technician.

" Shouldn't you leave the repair work to the professionals, Mathew? " Sunder teased.

" Chief! " Albrecht exclaimed with a note of surprise in his voice. " I thought you were still in sickbay! Dr. Khatroweena didn't inform me that you were to be released otherwise I would have been down to see you by now. "

" Dr. Khatroweena wasn't informed that I was released. " Sunder replied tersely. " I got tired of cooling my heels and not knowing what was going on down here. Besides, " he added, " a little company would have been well-placed. Not that I'm accusing anybody of dereliction of their duty to their commanding officer, but it would have been nice to have a visit once in a while! " He said with a tired laugh. He observed that Albrecht looked overly stressed about something. Sunder mentally shrugged, dismissing it due to all the more than his share of the work he'd been pulling lately. But then, Mathew's face grew dark as he appeared to ponder what he was going to say next. Just as it was un-natural for Sunder to quip a joke, it wasn't right for Albrecht to grow so morose. Something gripped Sunder's stomach with a cold grasp.

" Where's Xala? "

" Chief... Ursa, it's not like she's dead... " He began. " When you were unconscious the bridge discovered that she'd been at the Security Holoprograms again. Well, Casey ordered her incarceration and she jumped ship when the fighting started. She took a shuttle and headed for ... God-knows-where. "

" She... left? " Sunder asked in a quiet voice. Albrecht could only nod his head in response.

" Ursa, it was just as well. A warrant went out for her arrest. She was in a make-shift brig pending trial at the next starbase. She tapped the forcefield through the replicator systems and that was that. She was out in all the confusion. " The lieutenant offered as a token of comfort.

Sunder turned away and stepped into the shadows where he couldn't be seen. He remained there for a few minutes and then returned back to Albrecht.

She'd left.

Again.

He turned back to Albrecht; his face a mask of cold stone, as if nothing had happened. His voice was devoid of any emotion, any sign that the woman he loved had run out on him again.

" Very well Lieutenant. I want the construction effort to be doubled. We've got Klingon prisoners down in the hold as I understand it. We need the brigs back at operating capacity. Now that the primary systems are back to working order, the ship's inner security systems are now top-priority. " Sunder said mechanically, as if he hadn't heard Albrecht's news.

" Ursa... are you alright? " Albrecht asked.

" Fine, Mr. Albrecht. " Sunder answered, ignoring the note of concern in Mathew's voice. " Next, I want a complete report from you detailing security activities to date, including the gas attack on all decks. I've heard that some of the partial-Klingon crew-members were distressed with the effect the gas had on them. Issue a statement: if they have a problem with it, they can bloody well come and see me about it! IS THAT CLEAR? " Sunder's voice raised considerably. Albrecht nodded, pitying the poor fool who approached the chief in the next little while.

He stormed around the complex, ignoring the pain in his side. " This place gets fixed in 18 hours with no exceptions. Everyone works double-shifts until the Klingons are properly imprisoned. Got it? "

" Got it chief. " Albrecht said tiredly.

With that Sunder left the area, forcing his mind to his work and away from the woman who left him...

...again.

"The Return"
USS GALAXY
Lt. Commander Deiran Casey
No Longer Acting Captain
Checked by Captain Price

Casey was in the Ready Room, looking over more reports. He had a good night’s rest and was feeling good. Repairs were coming along quite well, the medical staff moved out of Holodeck 2, as they were using it as a triage. And so most of the ships systems, including trivial and morale type systems like the holodecks and replicators were all back on-line.

The crew was doing an extraordinary job. Basically the only ship component that wasn’t fixed were the hull breaches, and they needed repair at a space station. Casey didn’t think Captain Price would be happy about that. As it looked like it would mean anywhere from a week or two to possibly more of being stranded at a space station. No self-respecting Starfleet officer chose to be on a space station, when they could be on a Starship.

"Captain, incoming transmission. The Qul’lethl has returned. The Starfleet officers on-board are requesting transport. The Captain and Commander are with them," Ensign Fulton informed Casey over the comm.

"Good Ensign, do it at once. Give the Qul’lethl my regards on a safe journey home," Casey replied. "Casey out."

Casey stood up from the desk, pulling the chair back. He made sure his uniform was in perfect condition and proceeded to Transporter Room 3.

*** Transporter Room 3 ***

Deiran and Hunter were standing in front of the transporters. "Energize Chief!" Casey said to Chief Jensen.

In seconds, two blue beams appeared on the transporter pads. And then Captain Price and Commander Sterner materialized.

The Captain smiled, obviously happy to be home. He stepped down off the transporter pad and walked to Deiran, nodding to Hunter.

"Welcome home Captain, Commander," Casey said in greeting. The Casey smile masking some nerves. As he didn’t know how the Captain would react.

"Good to be home ‘Commander. What happened while we were away ‘mate?" Lee asked.

"Well sir, we were not bored that’s for sure. It was quite eventful," Casey replied.

"I noticed the hull breaches ‘Commander. What happened ‘mate?" Lee asked. He was firm but not too upset, at least not that Casey could visibly see. Which was typical for the Captain. Always a coolheaded man.

"We were boarded by some renegade Klingons with a score to settle with Starfleet and the Federation sir. We were then attacked by two Klingon Battlecruisers and a Bird Of Prey," Casey began to explain. His Iceman persona visibly showing now, because inside he was concerned how the Captain would react to this.

Commander Sterner had a look of shock on his face when he heard about the Battlecruisers. He knew that one Battlecruiser was difficult to defeat, but two?

"I want a repor…" Lee began and was interrupted by Deiran.

"The report is here sir. It contains the ship’s operating condition, functionality of ship systems, repairs and even has video footage of the battle. Particularly the maneuver I used to win the battle sir. I also have reported on the orbit of Boreth, and the science department did a complete scan of the planet’s mineral deposits. We had to have something to do, sir." Deiran said this with a straight face and was not braggadocios in his tone. He appeared calm, respectful and humble actually. Which was unusual for Casey. "Also sir, the crew is on a 12 hour rotating schedule so that repairs could be finished by the time you returned. We’ve been working hard. I wanted to be able to return to Federation space by the time you returned sir. We can achieve Warp 7 at max. Lieutenant’s Boudreau and Hewson are doing their best to get back up to 9.7 sir."

The Captain took the PADD from Casey and began reading. "Good ‘Commander. I’ll look this over. At least she’s in one piece. The death toll is pretty high though. I’ll return to duty beginning now. Your back on Gamma shift. You did a bonzer job in command. Meet with me tomorrow morning for a briefing. "

"Thank you sir, I’ll be there promptly Captain," Casey said as the Captain exited.

The Commander walked over to him, leaned toward him and whispered, "Two Klingon Battlecruisers? How did you pull that off ‘Commander?"

"A maneuver I call the Jawbreaker and some fancy flying sir," Casey replied.

"I can’t wait to see it ‘Commander."

"Welcome home sir," Casey replied.

"Good to be back Deiran," Sterner replied before exiting.

That went well Casey thought. Not at all like he expected. And the Captain didn’t even comment on how brilliant the maneuver was or anything. Would Starfleet even hear about this? At least Casey knew that it worked and had accomplished something no one else had.

And then it hit Deiran that he was no longer in command. He was just Second Officer again. Which wasn’t bad, but he enjoyed commanding. He knew it was his destiny and he was just a decade or so away from it. Starfleet would be impressed with how well he handled himself, the ship and it’s crew.

He was off duty now and needed rest. So he proceeded to find Miran.

*** Arboretum ***

Casey entered and was overwhelmed by the beauty. He hadn’t been in the arboretum in almost 4 months. He walked down a path through some trees, planted in pots, and found Miran near a pond.

She looked so beautiful as she set a flower on the water. Lara was in her basket. Miran was dressed in a red dress that accentuated her figure. Her hair was down, resting on her shoulders and some locks were below her shoulders. He stood there for a few minutes and just observed his wife. He was thanking God she was still alive. His life would be empty without her.

He walked behind her, very quietly. When he was behind her, he waited until she stood to her feet and then he put his arms around her waist.

"I knew you were there," she said as she put one hand on Deiran’s cheek and the other on his embraced arms about her waist. She smiled and let out a quiet laugh.

"Your not on duty?" she asked, as she had moved both hands to her husbands hands, which were still around her waist. She enjoyed her husbands arms around her.

"The Captain has returned and so I’m back on Gamma. I think I deserve a little break and some time with my family. How about we go horse back riding?"

Miran turned to face Deiran. A huge smile adorning her delicate face. Her eyes gleaming. "Can we?" She couldn’t hide her excitement.

"Yes it sounds fun. And I couldn’t think of a more beautiful woman than you to spend the day with," Casey grinned sheepishly. Like he knew of any other beautiful women. To him, she was a goddess and no other could compare to her. He enjoyed kidding with her.

"I can fix a picnic basket," Miran stopped and thought for a moment and then continued, "what about Lara? She’s not old enough to ride yet."

"Well I thought of that. I replicated a back pack to hold her. She can be on my back as I ride. She’ll love it!"

"That’s a good idea!" Miran replied.

"I thought it was too," Deiran joked and Miran retaliated with a playful slap to the arm. Then Deiran took her into his arms and gave her a most passionate, loving kiss. A kiss that told her she was everything to him, and the love of his life.

"Back On Duty"
Lieutenat David Mercury
Chief of Engineering

Its been a few days since David reported to Main Engineering but todays the day. The Doctor cleared David for active duty. Slowly

walking out of sickbay he realized just how badly the ship was damaged. Every single bed was occupied. The ship itself was in bad shape. Console panels were crack and wires were everywhere. It was going to take weeks at a Starbase to get her back into tip top shape. But he was the Chief and first priority was getting her out of Klingon space. David took his time walking to Engineering. The corridors were occupied with officers from all departments. It looked like everyone was chipping in on the repair job. He took the Turbolift down to Main Engineering. Joining him on the trip was a few officers that were assigned to repair the lift. Finally he arrived in Main Engineering. To his surprise he was greeted by a huge ovation. Everyone was glad to see David back in uniform. "Thank you everyone, I apperciate it. It looks like we are in for the long haul with regards to repairs but from what I can tell everyone is doing a great job." David spoke to his crewmates. Noticing A.C. and Melissa talking in her office he made his way towards them. "Hey guys, how is she holding up?"

"Nice to have you back David, she seems to be doing really well. We have engines working at about 75 percent. We can push them but we are taking it slow not taking any chances. I say in about three hours she should be at full strength. I can't say the same for the rest of the ship. She's been beat up pretty bad. Breachs in more then one location and just hundreds of small problems being reported throughout the ship. Casey really ran her through the dirt but we are alive. If you need me I will be in my quarters I have been up for 16 hours straight." A.C. informed David.

"Thanks A.C. get some rest." A.C. left Melissa's office and headed out of Engineering. A.C. had earned his rest.

"So how is the new arm?" Melissa said as she stood and walked over to examine it.

"Good, it feels good. It took a while to replace though." David said. "What about you ?" David pointed to Melissa arm.

"O.K. I refused to sit in Sickbay any longer so I just left. They closed the wound but suggested that I take a couple of days off. I didn't even say anything I just left." Melissa told David.

"But you're sure that your alright?" David asked again.

"Yeah, thanks. So what now?" Melissa was drained she had been working for 14 hours. With only two commanding officers in Engineering it was hard to get any rest.

"I'm going to get this she moving when the Captain gets back and we are going home. Why don't you get some rest, I can handle everything by myslef. I owe you and A.C. for covering for me."

"What are you talking about, you owe us, you had one arm, what were you going to do, you couldn't even twiddle your thumbs." Melissa said laughing.

"Oh you think your funny don't you, get out of here before I move you to Gamma shift!" David said.

"Yes sir, Lieutenant sir," she said sarcastically, "Bye David, call me if you need me." Melissa walked out of her office and smiled back at David.

David left her office and headed for his own. It was time to get back to work. The Galaxy was in need of some major repairs.

Dan Josephs

"Back home"
by Lt K'Eytyanna Samara
partially reviewed by Cpt Price and Lt Hunter MacKenzie

"Personal Log, Lt K'Eytyanna Samara, Stardate 49807.08...

The Qut'Leth is on the way back to rendevous with the Galaxy, before we head back to Federation space.

Today is just another in a long series of bitter disappointments, problems and general annoyance for me - my birthday.

The only damn thing it ever does is remind me of my parents and how I was treated by the Cardassians. I just hope nobody finds out, coz I sure don't feel like celebrating anything.

[ Sound of a loud thump followed by a loud crash as some objects collide with the far wall ]

Personal Log end!!!!"

Throwing herself into the Klingon bunk, K'Eytyanna pulling open the Starfleet standard satchel holding her personal items and pulling out the small pink teddy bear inside. Holding it close to her, she rolled over so that nobody would see the bear if they entered.

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

Hours later after she had calmed down ...

Walking into her quarters, K'Eytyanna knelt down and balanced herself as D'Akana bounded across the room. Hugging him tight as he licked at her face, she laughed happily. Running her hand down his back, she softly rubbed her forhead ridges against his fur, an old way between them of showing her affection for her pet. She giggled when he did a targ-impression of a yawn, and patted him on the nose.

Getting up, she carried her discarded gear over to a table before checking that D'Akana had enough food and water. Kneeling, she spoke softly,

"D'Akana, I'll be back later. You need to go to sleep anyway."

Picking him up, she carried him over to his bed and lay him down, pulling the tattered blanket over him. Staying with him until his eyes closed, she turned the lights off and retrieved an item she had been too embarrassed to think about after she had replicated it. Emptying one of her satchels onto the table, she stuffed the item inside plus her teddy bear Temob and left her quarters. Turning back, she took of her combadge, went over to D'Akana and attached it to his collar.

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

Hunter yawned and stretched in the turbolift. "Computer, location of Lt Samara."

It quickled replied, {Lt K'Eytyanna Samara is currently sleeping in her quarters.}

"Poor girl. She probably wore herself out while bullying the other engineers. Guess I'll be able to turn in early for a change."

Walking down the corridor to his quarters, he cracked his knuckles before entering. The room was pitch black and he spoke,

"Lights on."

Suddenly, he gasped in surprise, stopping suddenly in the doorway. Quickly rubbing his eyes, he pinched his arm, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Lying spread out on his couch was K'Eytyanna, wearing nothing but a very translucent peach-coloured negligee. Turning towards the end of the couch, she arched her back seductivly and grinned as she spoke,

"Personally, I don't mind, but I doubt that you would feel like explaining this to the Captain, should he just happen to walk by as you are gawking in the doorway."

Gulping, Hunter stepped forward, letting the door close behind.

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

A few moments later, Yeoman Stacy Richards was walking down the corridor when she heard a fairly loud thump against a door she was passing by.

The sound didn't continue, so she shrugged and kept on going.

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

Hunter groaned as he was propelled into the door, glad at least that K'Eytyanna had remebered to lock the door. She stepped in very close and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him passionatly.

After a few moments, she let up and he managed to speak as he got his breath back,

"Maybe we should retire to the bedroom."

She grinned, turned and raced towards the door, calling out,

"Last one there is a rotten egg." Hunter sprinted after her, and managed to tackle her just as she entered. They fell to the ground, laughing.

After a brief struggle, Hunter managed to get on top and hold her down. Smiling, he pulled her arms above her head to the point that he could hold them tight with just one arm. Quickly, he started tickling her left side.

She started struggling, giggling uncontrollably, "No! I can't stand that. No fair.."

Her struggling shifted his weight, and she quickly twisted, forcing him to roll off. A loud tear was heard and they both started laughing as the remains of the negligee was flicked away.

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

Hunter smiled as he looked down at the woman currently sharing his bed. Running a finger softly over her forehead ridges, he grinned when she murmured and pulled her teddy bear closer.

Lt K'Eytyanna Samara, USS Galaxy - Engineer/Shuttle Pilot

=/\= "Back In the Brig" =/\=
by lt Matthew Albrecht

The welding tool was awkward in Matthew's hand. He played the beam over the connection again, and this time the new energy coupling stayed where he attached it. He wiped his brow, *those engineers make this look soooo easy!* Putting the welder down on the deck, he leaned back and opened the front of the freshly replicated access panel. The spotless off-white panel looked out of place against the disrupter-scored walls.

The panel opened to reveal an array of isolinear chips. Matthew reinitialized the controls, and gave the voice-activation command, "Computer, activate forcefield brig alpha-3, authorization Albrecht-beta-beta-beta." The verbal command was lengthy, standard operating procedure was to activate the forcefields only from the controls across the room. However, Matthew was working on this cell alone, and was sitting on the floor, and tired from his last fifteen hours on duty. So, he cheated.

The edges of the cell opening glowed, indicating that the field was functioning. He grinned with pride; Only his third attempt, and the power was finally restored! *Now, what was the other thing...?* he wondered silently. He thought back to his Basic Security Systems Maintenance Overview course at the academy. The instructor had been a tiny Scottish woman, a retired Commander who had been a security officer for ten years, then, after an injury, had transfered to engineering. She knew EVERYTHING about weapon systems and forcefields. Then it came back to him, *That's it. The field density and focus...*

Matthew reached up and removed an iso-chip, put it between his teeth, and found a green-colored chip in the 'spares' storage area in the corner of the panel. Inserting the green chip into the empty slot, there was a sudden and dramatic change to the scene. The area in front of the cell turned green. The forcefield glowed green, except in one area where it was so faint it appeared more yellow, and around the upper right where it appeared more royal blue.

*Damn!* he vented, his eyes focused on the weakened part of the field. "Computer, deactivate forcefield brig alpha-3, authorization Albrecht-omega- beta-beta." Obligingly, the field vanished. He decided that the focus grid must have been damaged by the firefight. He stood, and pulled the panel- puller from his belt (he had borrowed a tool-belt from a weary engineer that had gone off-shift). He ran the 'puller' around the edges of the cell doorway, and as he went along, the panel sections popped out an inch from the wall. Soon the focusing grid of the forcefield was fully exposed. An entire length of the field aiming mechanism was discolored from red to black, indicating that a great deal of energy had run through the device, burning part of it out.

*We've got to get some more engineers!* he declared to himself. He was running himself ragged, trying to get the main brig operational again before his next shift. As soon as the brigs were again fully functional, the 'commander would let his people back to a more normal schedule. Double shifts were wearing everyone out, and actually, Matthew had been sending the security personell recovering from injuries off duty early--as well as those showing the greatest signs of distress from fatigue. That just left more work for the relatively uninjured like himself.

**** thirty minutes later ****

Matthew returned to the brig with the replacement part he needed. He put the gizmo down next to his welder, still sitting on the deck in front of cell three, while he visited the head to splash water in his face. The cool liquid awakened him somewhat, and he stared into the mirror for a minute or two. His skin color had turned somewhat more tanned than normal. His hands, also, had healed in the past day or so, and now he wore no bandages over their tender pink skin. A visit to Sickbay in the next few days would eliminate the scars that now looked so terrible.

Upon returning to the main brig, he noticed another person had come in to join him. "Gary! Snacks, it's good to see you. Here to help get us in order?" he asked his friend. The prospect of talking with his friend while he worked suddenly made a couple more hours of duty seem more attractive.

Trabuco turned and smiled at his buddy coming into the room. "Hey-ho, man. How many more cells to go?" Gary appeared to have rested, and was ready to make some headway on their projects.

Matthew sat on the edge of a console, and took a deep breath, considering the status of their systems. "Well, we have to run a focus test on the other cells here, but all the fields have power. Self diagnostics should be back online in the next few hours, according to the systems specialists. As for the lower level detention area, last I heard there were still power fluctuations. That's supposed to be an engineering issue. If Mercury does his typically fast work, that'll be taken care of before we are ready to move all those prisoners in anyway." His face lit up a little, "Hey, that means we are almost done!"

Gary picked up the shiny new piece of equipment and turned it over in his hands. "Well," he said, distracted by the complicated gadget, "what else is there to do? Could we be that close to being done?" The ensign wondered why they were knocking themselves out.

Matthew became a little cross, he had invested a lot of his energy and time into the speedy recovery of Security. He would not concede that the rush may not have been necessary. "We better be! Those prisoners are a threat as long as they lounge in that cargo bay!" He fairly fumed in his frustration, "The sooner they are locked up in a proper brig, the better!"

Gary lifted one hand in supplication, "Okay, buddy... You're right. Let's get this thing working!"

Together the two men replaced the malfunctioning hardware, and soon the brig's cell was again functioning at a hundred percent. For another hour or so, they tested the other cells, and satisfied themselves that the main brig was fit for habitation by prisoners. Cosmetically, security wouldn't be the same until resources could be allocated for new bulkhead panelling and freshly recycled carpeting, but such niceties were unnecessary for the proper care of their prisoners.

Matthew's mood had indeed improved, "Okay. Somebody's supposed to contact us when the self-diagnostics in here are back on-line. Until then I don't want to put any prisoners here, I just don't trust it." He watched Gary nod in agreement, both men had no desire to take chances with their prisoners. "Look, I'm going to stay here and work on one of my projects. Why don't you go down to the cargo bay and see that the staff there are prepared to start moving the prisoners up here. You know the drill, and so do they--just remind them we are taking no chances!"

**** soon after ****

Albrecht 'flipped' the pages of the old Klingon tome on the screen of Chanor's desk terminal. Many of the pages bore images of Klingons from all walks of society, long before the Federation ever met the race. But the images weren't right! These Klingons looked like the ones in Greer's pictures--smooth foreheads, lean-bodied. A lot more terran-looking than Klingon-looking!

While he waited for the time when he could move his prisoners into proper holding cells, he pondered what he was finding. He was terribly confused. What did all this have to do with a Klingon government cover-up? Could they really be covering up the existence of smaller, weaker Klingons?

Lt Matthew Albrecht
Security Officer
USS Galaxy NCC 70637

"To Vegas or Bust"
by Lt. Endris Gakor
with Lt. Matthew Albrecht
and LCDR. Chanor Paran

*** Qul 'etlh ***

Ronni's injuries were well on their way to final repair as the IKS Qul' etlh approached the USS Galaxy. Korof looked a bit teary-eyed as Endris packed her Cleaver and other belongings in a bag, changing the Klingon warrior harness for a standard Star Fleet medical tunic.

"Snacks!", the gruff Klingon exclaimed "I will miss you!". Although Gakor only knew him briefly, she thought something was up. Why else would the warrior be hiding his hands behind his back?

"I picked up something on Q'o'nos I want you to have", he explained, quickly bringing a package from behind as if swinging a Bat'leth. Gakor sniffed the air, trying to see if her Klingon friend was concealing a culinary surprise.

Except for a faint whiff of Sushi, Endris was puzzled by the lack of hints. "What in cuisine's name have you done now, my friend?", she stated flatly. "Others from the Galaxy disclosed your fondness for fish", he confessed with a mischievously furrowed brow.

Swimming inside the bowl was a bright red salt water Torka fish! "Hummmm", Gakes said demurely, "It's too small for a snack! I guess I'll just have to present Spines with a new friend." At the bottom of the box was an authentically hand carved D'pla.

"These things are amazing", she said, impulsively reaching in her bag. "I wasn't planning to part with this, but I can always get another one", Gakor said, handing Korof her trusty Cleaver.

*** Meanwhile, In the Galaxy Shuttle Bay ***

"Commander, I have completed the pre-flight check on the USS Cydonia. It should be ready to take you to your field training on Earth", remarked Mei Yiao Yin.

"Very good, Ensign", said LCDR Paran. "Please have Lieutenant Albrecht report to the shuttle bay. I have some orders to pass on to him."

"Aye, Aye Sir", replied Mei Yin.

*** 5 Minutes Later ***

"Matthew, congratulations are in order", praised the Bajoran when he saw his underling enter.

"Whaaaaat?" stuttered the shocked human.

"I have been selected to report for advanced tactical training on Earth this summer. As the next ranking officer, you will be promoted to Assistant Chief Security officer for the duration of my absence."

"This is highly unexpected, Commander", Albrecht argued while turning a shade of red. "I have some leave time accumulated, and I feel like visiting home myself!", he punctuated dramatically.

The pair was suddenly interrupted by Gakor's return. "Planning to go all the way to Earth without a Doctor?", the Tellarite groused coyly. "Who knows what kind of injuries you pair of Tribble lovers will get into? I had best tag along....", she said pulling out a PADD with a leave chit displayed prominently on the surface.

"Gakes!", Albrecht greeted. "How was your experience on the Qul' etlh?"

"To tell you the truth, although I met many new friends, I didn't get much of a chance to collect recipes or write in my journal. Though I did bring Spines home a new companion."

"It wasn't exactly cake here either", the Lieutenant explained. "We were boarded and repelled an unsanctioned attack by Klingon renegades."

Gakor paused deep in thought "Well, then, as a Doctor, I prescribe a trip to....", what was that restaurant she had visited at the academy? It had a fantastic buffet. Had it not been for the antique replica of a Mazda nearly overheating while crossing the Mojave desert, she would have no trouble recalling the source of her snacks.

*Think woman, think, she prompted her brain.... Las Vegas... Casinos.... Slot Machines... Buffets!!!!* Snapping her fingers, the immunologist finished..... "Caesar's Palace!"

"Self Improvement"
by Lt. Ronni Morris
ACSO, USS Galaxy

Ronni left her quarters with a lilt in her step. She had fully recovered from her injuries and was feeling fine. She first of all went to the lab and checked on several projects that she had been working on. Apparently the invading Klingons had breached her lab. It was in shambles.

She spent the next four hours cleaning up, surprised that she wasn't more upset about the loss of the projects. She reset the sonic spanner to the same harmonics that it had been set to and restarted the test of the long term effects on sub-sonics on Hyperion Crystals. The chemical analysis of the Delphininan-Vulcan Qu'orpaak weed crossbreed had to be re-initiated. Fortunately, the shield specs weren't lost. She re-started the computer simulations and left the lab.

"Computer" she said.

[breep]

"Is there an available holodeck?"

"There are no holodecks currently available." replied the computer.

"When is the next availability?" she said.

"In 32 minutes, holodeck 2 will be available for two hours."

"Please reserve it for me for the two hours. I will be running Command Field Test 3. Please send the results to Commander Sterner and Lt. Cmdr. Casey as required." she said entering the turbolift.

[breep] "Confirmed"

The Delphinian Science Officer headed for Ten Forward. Once there, she ordered lunch from Door and enjoyed a quiet meal while studying for the Command Field Test.

"I'll get my next pip if it KILLS me!" she said to herself.

"Back Home. Both of Them"
by Ensign James Chen
Security Officer

***Qul'etlh***

Chen inhaled through his teeth as Doctor Kahn adjusted the bandages on his side and thigh. She looked up at him. "You should have taken it a little easier down there."

Chen shrugged. "Yeah, tell me about it. I'm getting too old for this."

"Come on, you're not even thirty yet. But keep it up like this and you just might be on your way to early retirement."

Chen nodded and got off the examining table. "Thanks, doc."

He walked down the halls of the Qul'etlh and headed to his quarters. His leg was stiff and a little sore, but a dermal regenerator had taken care of the wounds. He walked into the Klingon quarters and started packing. He had spoken to Dergaus about Tamak. Chen thought the captain should know how a crewman who served him so faithfully had died. You could never tell with Klingons, but he had seemed grateful.

Chen made sure he had everything packed and headed to the transporter room.

***Galaxy***

Chen stepped off of the transporter pad and looked around. The air smelled faintly of burned ozone. Things didn't seem to strange around the transporter room. He knew that the Galaxy had taken damage from somewhere, but he still didn't know the whole story. He took the turbolift down to his deck and saw complete chaos. There were cleanup crews doing their work on blood on the floor, disruptor burns and scraps of metal laying around. He walked to his quarters and saw a huge disruptor burn near the door. Okay.

Chen walked into his quarters. It'd be good to have something other than gagh for a change. He dropped his bags and walked in. And saw what looked like a Catholic bishop lying dead on the floor. Chen sighed. Lex. He shook his head and stepped around the holographic projection. He walked over to the replicator. "Steamed white rice." The replicator started working and gagh appeared. Chen looked at the plate of replicated worms and closed his eyes. "Take it back." The gagh disappeared. "Computer. What's the location of Ensign Lexana Ral?"

[Ensign Ral is currently in sickbay]

Chen's face paled. "Sickbay?" He turned and ran out of his room, ignoring his injured leg. He arrived in sickbay a few moments later. The entire area was crowded with frantic nurses running around and wounded in all areas. A nurse walked up and gave him the once-over. His bruises threw her off. "Do you need help?"

Chen shook his head. "No, I just came from the Qul'etlh. I'm looking for Ensign Ral."

The nurse nodded and pointed to the back. "Over there."

Before Chen could respond, she was gone again, moving to people who needed serious attention. Chen walked over where Ral was, doing his best to keep from getting in the way. He saw Ral lying in bed. She was even more pale than normal, and she was sweating badly. Chen walked over beside her bed. He touched her shoulder. "Lex? Lex, can you hear me?"

Ral's eyes fluttered, but stayed closed. He smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. I found that little surprise you left in my quarters. Pretty slick, kid."

He shook his head. "Come on, wake up. You're going to be just fine. You're going to be up and at 'em in no time, huh?" He held her hand. "What happened here? I'm sorry I wasn't here to help. You're one of my only friends here. You take off and I'm screwed. You don't want to do that to good ol' James, do you?" He sighed. "Listen, just get better, okay?" He let go of her hand and started back to the door. He had only seen something like this twice before. Once, when the Borg invaded his ship, and again when the Jem'Hadar launched a raid against the Furious. Both times it stayed with him.

He went back to his quarters and sat looking at the bishop on the floor. He had no idea what it was Lex had done. He sure as hell didn't want to stick around looking at these four walls all the time. He started reading the messages in his mail. He read a ship-wide message about a trip to earth and was requesting any takers. He looked at the message. Earth. Home.

It sure as hell sounded better than sticking around here, especially after the business on Praxis. He signed up right away.

***Shuttle Bay***

Chen limped up to the USS Cydonia. He saw about a half-dozen other travelers milling about the shuttle craft, some were already going in. He adjusted his shoulder bag and walked up. He showed his PADD to the person in charge and went aboard. He took a seat near the back and pulled out a medium-sized leather-bound book. He opened it up and started reading. It was his old copy of "The Art Of War" by Sun Tzu. It was given to him as a going away present by Master Kwan when he left for the academy. It was 150 years old and was written entirely in Chinese.

He absent-mindedly scratched at the knife wound in his side. He wondered just what earth was going to be like after his absence. He smiled as he remembered some people he just might look up when he got there. Yes, this just might be what the doctor ordered.

"Work will have to wait."
By: Lieutenant Mélissa Marie Boudreau

Specialist Blake was standing in front of her. Melissa saw the Specialist's mouth move but couldn't understand a word... all she could see was the Klingon aiming his diruptor at them. She tried to warn Blake but nothing would come out of her mouth. Finally, all Mélissa did was scream as loud as she could.......

Melissa woke suddenly. It was the nightmare again... When she wasn't occupied with something, her mind always returned to that scene. She didn't know what to do anymore. Many more sleepless nights like these and she would be completely useless.

At least David was back at work now. She wasn't needed as badly. Melissa got up out of bed and splashed some cold water on her face. She felt groggy and almost sick from exhaustion.

Melissa then made up her mind. It was time for shore leave. She hadn't been back to see her family since she left the Academy and boarded the Galaxy for the first time. It was time to go back... and the perfect time to get some rest. She went over to the computer terminal and booked a spot on the shuttle going to Earth. Luckily, there was one leaving quite soon.

Finally, she wrote a message to the Captain and to David, requesting shore leave. Melissa knew there was a lot of work to be done to repair the Galaxy but there were plenty of engineers left on the ship to complete those. And if the Galaxy was heading for a Starbase, then there would be plenty more engineers to help out.

Melissa put on a set of her civilian clothes and began to pack.

Amelie Aka:
Lt. Melissa Marie Boudreau
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galaxy NCC-70637

"Taking time to stop and smell the raktijino."
Counselor Dallas and Dr. Khatroweena

Things were still busy in sickbay. Karyn had convinced Dr. Khatroweena to take a cup of raktijino she had ordered from a replicator. Even as she sipped it she continued to issue orders. Karyn could appreciate her devotion to duty but she knew if Dr. Khatroweena didn't get out of this environment for a little while, there was going to be one more patient in sickbay.

Before Karyn could go up to speak with her, Dr. Khatroweena moved in to intercept an errant Vulcan Science officer. It was a very short attempt to 'escape.' After a hypo on the neck, the Vulcan was soon again asleep.

"Doctor, can I speak to you for a moment in your office?" Karyn didn't want to embarrass the ACMO in front of the people in sickbay.

"Yes Counselor but make it quick, we've got wounded."

Karyn waited till the doors closed before she spoke. She decided to try the indirect approach. "Doctor, do you agree that it is important for crewmembers to look out for each other?"

"Yes, of course, please call me Cat."

"Cat, do you agree that even the most qualified and intelligent people can still do things that aren't always what's best for them?"

"Yes, but I really fail to see what this has to do with me..." Karyn continued to speak, acting as if Cat hadn't even spoken.

"Do you also agree that in those times it is necessary for someone to intervene?"

Cat had no idea what was going on and she was more than a little annoyed that this Counselor was taking her away from her work. What was even more annoying was the fact that Karyn posed these questions as if they were talking of the weather.

"Counselor... she said, losing her patience.

"Please Doctor, just answer the question."

Tired of fighting it, Cat answered, "Well I guess if someone's life was endangered and I would do something to prevent it."

"Exactly!" Karyn said clapping her hands together, "Now what would you like with your pancakes?"

"My what?"

"Would you like ham, bacon or perhaps some fruit..."

"Counselor, what the hell do you think you think you're doing?'

"I'm fixing you something to eat."

"I appreciate what you're doing but I really have to get back to work."

"Look, Cat, I'm not going to say 'Physician heal thyself' cause even I'm sick of that one, but I will say this: I'm concerned, you haven't eaten, slept or relaxed in days. I realize everyone's been busy but you have to take care of your self. I'm not trying to sound like an ogre but please try to understand my position. It's my responsibility to watch out for the crew. I don't want to make this an order but I will if necessary."

Cat had to admit this girl had guts. Not only was she confronting a superior officer but also this was only her first assignment. Cat started to chuckle, a speech she used against other officers was being turned around and being used against her. The irony was delicious.

Cat had to admit Karyn was right. Nothing short of an act of God would have taken her away from Sickbay. And even then, God had better have a damn good reason.

"All right, Ensign. Fair cop. Guilty as charged," Cat said with an embarrassed half-smile. "How did you know?"

"A hunch," said Karyn, "and you reminded me of someone that I knew on the Enterprise-D named Beverly Crusher.

"The Beverly Crusher," asked Cat stunned at the comparison.

"I take it you've heard of her?"

"Everyone in Starfleet Medical has."

"Beverly was my sister Kathryn's department head when she worked as a medical assistant onboard. She was extremely dedicated but extremely stubborn. Now, are you going to eat or what?"

Cat decided Karyn was right and she was reminded of the earlier incident with Capt. Casey. What kind of doctor was she if she couldn't practice what she preached?

Cat notified Milan that she had more pressing matters to attend to and she would be out shortly.

Karyn ordered them both something to eat and while they ate they chatted quietly. Karyn discussed her time at the Academy and some of the things she went through.

Cat listened intently, reminded of her own difficult times and how hard she worked to prove herself to others. Cat respected Karyn Dallas, not pitied her like so many people tend to do when they see someone disabled. She respected her because she had the courage to do what she wanted and not let anyone stop her. She had beaten the odds. They continued to talk, and in the end, each shared a mutual respect for the other. They finished their meals and they both agreed it was time to get back to work.

Karyn headed for the door and just before she was about to leave Cat asked, "Karyn, are you always this difficult?"

Karyn answered, "You call this being difficult?"

Cat replied, "Well yes, what would you call it?"

With a smile, Karyn answered her, "I'd call it doing my job."

With that, Karyn left sickbay, leaving Cat to shake her head. She had just made a friend she knew she'd have forever.

By: Ensign Lexana Ral
Junior Counselor
USS Galaxy

Ral had been lying on her biobed.. a rather pathetic mass of dark auburn curls and pale skin.. made even paler by the bloodloss. Cat had been concerned.. normally patients woke up sooner than this, but it seemed Ral had been her usual, difficult self and decided to stay unconscious.. As if Cat didn't have enough to worry about.. now the impish counselor was adding her own contribution to the ongoing fun in sickbay..This was highly unlike Ral, Cat had noticed.. Lexana HATED being in sickbay.. a broken bone or two, Lex had left the second she could.. but it seemed weird to see her, pale and fragile, almost like she'd break and shatter.

Cat had noticed the change in her once Ensign Chen had walked in, Lexana's breathing had eased.. it seemed almost as though she were trying to regain consciousness.. After James had left, Cat had watched Lexana for a moment or two.. the flush in her cheeks slowly faded.. and her breathing slowed again. It was as though she didn't want to wake up.

However.. Cat had inserted a stimulant.. in fact..it was a derivative of Raktajino..into Ral's system... Lexana stirred.. and then sat up rigidly

"Where the Hell am I?'

"Sickbay?" Cat suggested

"Cat??" Ral leaned forward and gave Cat a big hug "Cat..thank you for everything"

"Hey..you'll be fine.. " Cat laid Ensign Ral's head back down on the pillow.. get some rest..

"You have no idea how glad I am to be awake.." Ral said softly, laying her head back..still feeling somewhat delirious..

**Several Hours later**

Ensign Lexana Ral is up and about.. causing trouble.. and gossip.. and also working in sickbay. She wonders how her friend James is getting on with the Dead Bishop.. She hoped he wouldn't be too mad, after all, it was part of a comedy sketch..even if it was bizarre..She *REALLY* hope he wouldn't be mad.. She'd spend weeks making it up to him if he was..In fact, she was going to call him the minute she was done with this patient...But then there was another patient..And another.. Ral really wanted to talk to him, however, she guessed it would just have to wait.

Lexana smiled her best Counselor smile.. and went back to work...

Ensign Lexana Ral
Junior Counselor
USS Galaxy

Prospects of Home
By Ensign Anthony Mendenhall
Engineer aboard the USS Galaxy

As he materialized on the transporter pad, first thing that Mendenhall wanted to do was find out how his cat Digit was doing. It had been a while since the tattered ensign had seen his beloved cat, and he hoped that he was alright.

While the Great Hall of the Klingon Empire had been a great site, the friendly corridors were an ever greater sight to Mendenhall. No more little closet to sleep in. He would have his hammock all to himself. No more being trapped inside his quarters. It would be more like a vacation to be working and living aboard the Galaxy instead of a Bird of Prey.

The odd thing was, while Mendenhall made his way to his quarters, he found that disruptor and phaser burns where everywhere. Equipment had been damaged and it appeared sickbay was being overburdened. The familiar scent of rotting flesh confirmed his concluded answer. The Galaxy must have been boarded by the Kilingons. He would check to see if his assumptions were right, but for right now he was going to see how his feline friend was doing.

The second the door opened, the small cat turned his head and jumped off the bed. With a swish plop motion, the two legged cat met Mendenhall at the door. It instantly started to purr as he scratched the back of the cat’s ears.

"Hey Digit, it’s been a while." He threw his pack into his closet planning to unpack it latter, then picked up the black cat and laid down on his hammock. The cat curled up on his chest as he slowly stroked it’s black fur.

"Computer, state messages." He knew that there was bound to be some messages from his family or friends. The computer sounded back in it’s usually unpleasent tone. [There are cur-rently eighty-two messages. Shall I play them all?]

"Holy cow! What happened, did Nicole and Mike get married or something?" His parents usually wrote once a week, and his siblings wrote every now and then. Even with his friends, it would take almost each of them writing eight letters a piece!

[Please restate the question.]

"Never mind, just play the messages." The small screen on the side of his quarters lit up. Standing there was his best friend Mike and Nicole. He had his arm wrapped around his sisters waist. They were both smiling. Mike started first. "Well, since you always the last one to read you messages," Nicole butting in. "Stop the small talk Mike." The next words sent Mendenhall falling out of his hammock and Digit being squashed. "We’re getting married."

The cat scrambled out from underneath Mendenhall, and he crawled back up. They said the date, but he didn’t notice it. The surprise came with more shock than anger. If anyone de-served his sister, it was obviously his best friend. Then the date hit him. It was in a week and a half. The message had been sent right after his beaming aboard the Que’leth. The other messages were no doubt full of congratulations and other useless stuff.

The second message came on. "Computer, stop message." The screen went blank again. He checked to see if there were any shuttles leaving for Earth soon. Luckily there was one leaving that day. He quickly wrote a note requesting some shore leave.

He hoped it would be approved. While he hadn’t been on the Galaxy that long, he had never gone on shore leave while he was on Utopia Planitia. His things were already packed, so that left one thing ready. Since it would be while until he was OK'ed, he decided to do somehting.

He replicated a quick snack, then one for Digit. After that he headed towards engineering, still dazed at what had just happened.

"Countdown"
With refinements by Lt. Boudreau, cowritten with Ensign M'Benga

D'Auria had managed to clean up most of the debris in the main science lab, when some personnel from Environmental came in. Deciding that his time could be better spent examining what the damage was to the systems, he began a thorough check of it all. By then, it was two hours into Gamma shift. Going from one station to another in the main science lab, he noted how deep the destruction had touched. Most, if not all the equipment was either destroyed or heavily damaged. Most of the experiments were completely gone and had to be started all over again.

Suddenly, a beep sounded from his tricorder as he passed by a section of bulkhead, completely bent into itself, like a wadded up piece of paper. Adjusting the controls, he moved closer to the bulkhead, one eyebrow inching its way up to his hairline. 'How could the internal sensors have missed that', he said to himself and immediately scanned the sensor system. It showed operational, but was locked into a continuous self-diagnostic mode, not sending any useful data about its surroundings to the maintenance computer. Turning to the maintenance crew, he spoke.

"Everyone of you, leave immediately. Remove yourself from this deck in a orderly and quick fashion. Go at least two decks up and do not return until I give the word."

The crewmembers gave him an odd face as they remained where they were. Realizing they were all too tired to immediately grasp the severity of the situation, he added more forcefully, "Now!"

This helped, as the crew seemed to understand that something was not right at all and they scampered out as quickly as possible. When they had left, Jack turned back to the twisted bulkhead and tapped his commbadge.

"D'Auria to Engineering."

"Boudreau here. Hello Jack. Nice to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I am well, lt. I trust you are too."

"Well, apart from needing about a month's worth of sleep, I am. I'm about to go off shift."

"I think you might want to delay that, Lt., there is something we have to take care of first."

Noticing the serious undertone in his voice, Melissa began to get worried.

"Where are you?"

"At the moment, I am in the main science lab. If it is at all possible, could you send down one engineer? I seem to have a problem. Let me rephrase that, we seem to have a problem."

In the silence that followed, Jack could almost hear the sharp intake of breath Melissa was taking just then. While not saying much, his words, on this occasion carried a clear warning.

"I see. Is this problem related to the safety of the ship?"

"Very much so. For safety's sake, I suggest you send only one person here."

"Jack, what did you find", Boudreau asked in a quiet voice.

"An unexploded Klingon torpedo, lodged inside a power conduit."

Boudreau whirled into action, turning around and looking for someone she could send down. Engineering was almost deserted, most of the personnel had been sent out on repair jobs all over the ship. Just then, a small group of them came back. Walking over, she grabbed the nearest one and in a low voice gave her orders. The ensign nodded, grabbed some gear and was gone out of engineering in a flash.

"Jack, I'm sending someone down now. Be careful around that thing."

"Understood, sir. I will alert the bridge. D'Auria out."

"Ensign D'Auria to Bridge."

"Bridge, Sterner", came the response. The Captain and First Officer had been back aboard for some time.

"What's the problem, Ensign?"

Sterner could tell from the sound of his voice, that something was very wrong.

Jack, in the meantime, had gotten out some things he might need. Using a laser torch, he slowly began cutting the bulkhead away. Halfway through, he heard the doors to the lab swish open; turning around, he saw a tall, darkskinned woman approaching.

"Hi there", she said in a loud cheery voice. "I'm ensign Be'Tran M'Benga. I hear you have a problem."

Raising an eyebrow, he regarded her for a few seconds before responding.

"I do hope you know how to disarm a Klingon torpedo surrounded by a crackling power conduit, M'Benga."

M'Benga stared at the crumpled bulkhead. "Whew," she began, obviously a bit taken aback at the challenge before her.

"We've got a torpedo, Klingon design, lodged in the hull, sir. Main science section."

" Status", asked Sterner.

"Active," added D'Auria, over the open commchannel, "and if I may add, Sir, quite dangerous. I believe the logical conclusion would be to seal this deck."

"And send up emergency personnel," added Be'Tran, "Tactical, and Medical, Sir."

"I don't believe that would be wise, sir. The torpedo could go active any moment. No need to risk unnecessary personnel. I also suggest you clear the top and bottom two decks from all personnel."

On the bridge, Sterner cast a weary glance to ops.

"When it rains, it pours. Copy your suggestions; but what the hell are you 2 going to do?"

Be'Tran stooped to examine the protruding section of the half-opened bulkhead. "With the assistance of Mr. D'Auria here, I'm going to try to disarm it."

"To reiterate," began Jack, "do you know how to disarm one of these?"

Be'Tran cast him a worried glance, "Not really. I may look Klingon, but my training is in Federation-designed materiel."

Jack crouched down beside her, " In other words, you don't know how to do it."

"I didn't say that. Necesarily. I mean just how different can one torpedo armament mechanism be from another?"

"Perhaps, logically, there could be several differences..."

Commander Sterner's voice interrupted, " Emergency teams are on the way. Status, M'Benga? "

"Status, sir, worried", Be'Tran responded.

"Jack", she turned to D'Auria, "Cut the power to that conduit, I've got to give it a shot."

D'Auria moved to a control console, and began to shut down the power to the effected conduit, as Be'Tran started rummaging through her equipment. She opened up a large, gray-colored kit and removed several items, setting them gently, as if they themselves would explode, on the floor of the science-lab.

D'Auria looked up from the console, seemingly pleased with himself; "Alright, M'Benga, the power for that area should be deactivated now."

"Should?" she queried.

"Sensor readings on this entire bulkhead-area are resending irrelevant information, in a continuous loop", replied Jack..

Be'Tran tapped her commbadge again. "M'Benga to bridge," she began, "Ops". The ops officer responded, "Yes Ensign."

"Utilize operations sensors, do full bulkhead scan of the science-lab area, and try to re-feed the data down here to the lab", Be'Tran requested.

The Ops officer glanced back at Sterner, standing tensely behind the operations console. The tall Exec nodded his approval. The ops-officer complied. In the meantime, M'Benga took out a tricorder, and began to scan the bulkhead manually. She shook her pretty head worriedly, prompting D'Auria to ask; "Yes", as he knelt down beside her again.

"As far as I can tell, the power's off." she folded up the tricorder,

"However, the torpedo is registering an active charge."

"I had assumed it would," responded D'Auria, " It would not be logical for Klingons to fire duds at us."

"No," said Be'Tran, "but I've been having a hard time finding any logic in anything that's been happening with the Klingons lately."

D'Auria's commbadge beeped, "Emergency medteams outside science labs now, Ensign.

Jack wasn't too happy with that, it wasn't a logical move, sending in more personnel while there was a powerful weapon, ready to explode, a feet yards away. "Keep everyone back for as long as possible, please" responded Jack in a decidedly cool tone.

"M'Benga, progress report", came Sterner's voice.

"None as yet, sir," responded Be'Tran, "outside of deactivating the power to that area of the bulkhead, and the conduits within it. I want to try one option before I try to disarm it."

Sterner shuffled, and tugged down the shirtwaist of the outer jacket of his uniform. "Let's get moving Ensign, we have no idea how close that thing is to detonation!"

"Yes, sir," Be'Tran responded, "M'Benga to transporter room one."

"Transporter room, Jensen here."

"We've got a problem in the science lab", said Be'Tran.

"I'm aware of it," responded Jensen," it came up on the emergency boards just a moment ago."

D'Auria looked very concerned at this point, but still tried his best to contain his emotions; "What are your intentions, M'Benga?"

"With you," responded Be'Tran, "Honorable, for the time being. If we get through this...well. As far as our problem is concerned, I want to try to beam it out of there."

"Not logical", said Jack, "Initiating a transporter field into a damaged bulkhead could cause a serious hull-breach."

"Jensen?" Be'Tran called over the comm," you copy that?"

"Yes,Ensign, and I must agree with Ensign D'Auria. I've done a preliminary scan of the area; I wouldn't be able to be sure what I was transporting, aside, perhaps, of locking onto the charge, but I wouldn't be certain of successful transport.", the transporter chief was adamant.

Be'Tran turned her big green eyes on Jack D'Auria,and said softly, "It's up to us". D'Auria nodded in agreement.

Be'Tran half-strutted over to an emergency storage cabinet, opened it and pulled out 2 respirator-masks, the kind the scientists used if they had to drop pressure in the lab for any reason. She tossed one to Jack, who caught it deftly.

"I'm going to have to cut through the internal bulkhead," Be'Tran began," then reconfigure the torpedo's on-board controls to deactivate. If Klingon torpedoes are anything like federation torpedoes, the controls should be near the nose, heavily encased."

"And when you cut through the outer bulkhead," D'Auria began," the lab will begin to depressurize. Slowly, but definitely."

"That's right, let's get started." she bent down to her tools, her mask now fully in place, and groped for the laser-cutter. " Man, I hafta be careful." she said half to her self.

"Yes," said Jack, "I would advise you to be."

Some minutes later, the bulkhead had been completely cut away, Be'Tran wielding the laser-cutter, while Jack was monitoring the depressurization and scanning for the beginnings of a power surge in the conduit. The blunt nose of the torpedo was now completely exposed, as was the hole in the hull of the ship. They could feel the air being sucked out faster, the smaller pieces of debris and dirt already moving rapidly towards the hole.

M'Benga quickly reached for a cutter, using it to cleanly cut a square hole on top of the nose of the torpedo. Peering inside, Jack stuck his right hand carefully into the torpedo ……

And was thrown backwards as a blast of energy spew forth. Be'Tran was next to him in a flash.

"Jack! Are you alright", she asked as she grabbed hold of his arm. Following his gaze, she looked at his right hand. The skin was completely gone, showing the densely packed electronics that composed his right arm. With a shocked look on her face, she let go, but caught herself, grabbing hold of his shoulder and pulling him straight. Looking at him, his eyes told her that he would explain later. If there was a later….

"What is going on down there? D'Auria, M'Benga, report!"

"Sir, we might have a bigger problem then we thought at first", Jack replied. "It seems we have a new Mark VI warhead aboard."

Before Sterner could reply, D'Auria began to explain, "A new Klingon torpedo design, sir. Called a Penetrator.

It buries itself inside a vessel's hull, then begins a countdown."

"How long, ensign?"

"Could be anywhere from one 30 seconds to 5 days. There is no way of knowing. I do know, however, that it is impossible to disarm. At least, at this moment", he continued, checking his tricorder as he walked back to the torpedo.

"Why?"

"It just put up a forcefield, sir", answered M'Benga, "it nearly fried Mr. D'Auria."

"I want that thing off this ship, people."

"Understood, sir."

"We don't have much time, if my readings are correct, we are minutes away from detonation."

"Then we have to hurry, won't we, Jack", Be'Tran said in a sultry voice. Turning to face her with a raised eyebrow, he asked her for any suggestions. Just then, the doors to the lab opened up and a lieutenant, in charge of the Tactical Emergency team arrived.

"Well, we can't transport it, so …. We should just cut out the outer bulkhead around the torpedo quickly. That way, it will be sucked out into space."

"But that means all of us will be sucked out too", said the lieutenant.

"No, only the person cutting the bulkhead."

At the questioning glances, Jack explained.

"I will cut the bulkhead. You two, get into the corridor and move a safe distance away. As I mentioned earlier, it is illogical to risk any more people here."

"No way, mister! I'm not letting you have all the fun."

"I am in no mood to debate with you, M'Benga. You and the lieutenant get out of here now."

With that, he turned to the torpedo, a heavy-duty laser cutter in his hand. Punching it on maximum, he was about to start the cutting, when he felt an arm wrap itself around his waist, rather low. Sighing, he turned his head, seeing the smiling face of Be'Tran through the clear face shield. She in turn was held by the lieutenant, who had fastened a safety rope to a security link in the floor.

"Since it is obvious you're too stubborn to leave, could you please put your hand somewhere else? Not that I mind this cozy togetherness, but it is rather distracting."

Smiling wickedly, she responded, pouting, "You're no fun."

Shaking his head, Jack started cutting. The powerful beam cut quickly through the already weakened duranium alloy. The depressurization was getting heavier, larger objects slamming into the threesome as they tried to dodge them.

"Get ready", D'Aria yelled, the last few inches being cut. The bulkhead was already being sucked out, only the four uncut corners still holding it in place. Taking aim quickly, he pointed the torch at the first corner, severing the link, then on to the next. Within less then a second, the cut part of the hull, with the torpedo inside went flying into the vacuum of space. Jack was nearly pulled out to, were it not for M'Benga's arm around him. The air being sucked out was making a howling sound that cut through to the bone; everything not bolted to the floor or walls smashed into the three figures on its way out the hole.

Screaming to make herself heard, Be'Tran called the bridge, telling them to initiate an Emergency Bulkhead Procedure. A particularly large piece of a destroyed console slammed into D'Auria's legs, throwing him off his feet. Instead of falling to the floor, he was immediately sucked into space. Or would've, if M'Benga had lost her grip. Digging her fingers into his arm, she tried to pull him back, but couldn't; the power of the vacuum was too much. Just as he was about to slip away, Jack managed to grab hold of the side of the hole, his exposed, cybernetic fingers digging deep into the hard material. Using that as a lever, the others pulled him slowly back inside. Barely had his feet cleared the opening, or a forcefield flashed in place, burning the back of his boots heels off. Immediately, he fell to the ground as the environmental system started to replace the lost atmosphere.

Moments later, the medical and tac teams entered, going over to the three officers who lay in a heap, breathing hard with exertion, their bodies very cold and dehydrated as the fluids were sucked out. Groggily opening her eyes, M'Benga saw a blurred head in front of her face. She also could hear sounds, but didn't recognize them, until a hypo was pressed to her neck, causing her vision to clear. The face belonged to Dr. Endris Gakor.

Smiling brightly at the Tellarite, or at least as brightly as one with a massive hangover does (Be'Tran felt as if she had been in a 24 hour drinking contest with a Klingon), she said, "Hope you've got some chocolate chip cookies with you", before slipping into unconsciousness.

On the bridge, the viewscreen had zoomed in on the drifting bulkhead. Shields were up; not a moment too soon as the torpedo exploded, a massive, growing cloud of fire spreading around it. Everyone started to breathe again.

Ensign M'Benga was resting in her quarters. The last two weeks had been the busiest of her entire life. Sience the Klingon attack, she had nearly died in a turbolift shaft, helped repair two transporter consoles, the anti-grav controls in cargo-bay 4, the lights in Ten-Forward; Oh, and then there was the situation in the science-lab.

Fresh from a party on the Holodeck, to celebrate the Galxy's successfull mission, Be'Tran was now exausted."I never thought I'ld hear myself say this," she said aloud,"but I'm exausted, I could use some leave time."

At that moment, the door-chime to her quarters beeped. "Come in." she responded, not being one to considder any visitor an unwelcome one.

The door slid open to admit Lt. Melissa Boudreau, one of Be'Tran's COs in Engineering. She was in civilian clothes. "Good morning, Ensign," she said, sounding in a hurry.

"Ma'am." said Be'Tran.

Boudreau sat down at the end of Be'Tran's bed, and the Ensign set herself up. She could sence, though her Betazoid powers were limited, that Boudreau was tense. "What is it, Lieutenant?" Be'Tran asked.

Boudreau smiled. "I forget you're part-Betazoid sometimes, but, then again, we don't really know each other too well, do we."

"Love to put ammends to that ma'am." responded Be'Tran, with a friendly grin on her face.

"Good," said Boudreau, standing, and shouldering the bag that Be'Tran now noticed she was carrying, "I'm going to earth, a little shore leave. You've earned a break this past week, and I'ld feel more comfortable on the shuttle if we had at least two Engineers aboard. I've already cleared it with the captain."

Be'Tran sat all of the way up this time, "Ma'am, well yes. I was just thinking...Of course Lieutenant, I'lld love to go."

Alright," said Boudreau, "Get your gear and get to the shuttle bay. I think Dr. Gakor, and Commander Paran are anctious to get under way."

With that, Melissa left Be'Tran's quarters, and left the ensign to pack. She wriggled quickly out of her uniform, and started going through her meager closet of civilian things. She tossed several things on her bed, before she realized she needed to toss something on herself.

She chose a blue-green sweater, and almost ragged-looking brown pants of heavy material, scrambled into them, and continued packing. Maybe she was in to much of a hurry.

~ David Lyles ~
a.k.a. Ensign Be'Tran M'Benga
Engineering, USS Galaxy
e-mail; burgoyne48@hotmail.com
or; sa_3_16@yahoo.com

Prospects of Home
By Ensign Anthony Mendenhall, Engineer

Mendenhall walked into his room. The fourteen hour shift he pulled hadn’t been very eventful. The extra two hours didn’t bother him, it was the waiting for the permission to go on shore leave. The idea of being on the farm seemed nice to him. He hadn’t been there in a few years, and the idea of seeing his younger brother seemed nice.

Digit lay sprawled out asleep on the bed. The cat had just eaten from the preprogrammed rep-lictor. Other than provide morale support and act cute, the cat had no real purpose. But Mendenhall loved that cat, and that was all that mattered.

The first thing he did was check to see if his shore leave request had been granted. The whooping scream from Mendenhall awoke the cat. Digit gave a distasteful look at the overex-cited ensign, then went back to sleep.

The shuttle would be boarding soon, so he wanted to hurry. Everything that he needed was still packed, with the exception of some regular clothes. He only owned a few. He threw in a shirt with some old blue jeans. Mendenhall actually preferred his Starfleet uniform for walking around, but out in the fields was different.

While he was making sure he had everything, he thought about what he was going to do. Ob-viously he was going to go to the wedding. After that he would spend some time at the farm, then probably go up to the Academy for a day or two to see some old friends.

He quickly scanned over the rest of his messages, then sent out a few. Mendenhall sent a mes-sage to Cat the ACMO thanking her for watching his cat. He wanted to do it in person, but he was short on time. The shuttle would leave pretty soon and he didn’t want to miss it.

After finishing up a few things, he gabbed his bag and carried the half asleep feline on his shoulder. Then it was off to the Cydonia. He made his way to the shuttlebay and saw some others standing waiting there to board too.

He saw a half human half Romulan ensign who he guessed was probably going to fly the shut-tle. She was cute looking he thought. When she walked by him, he started to feel a little bit hotter. He hoped he wasn’t blushing as he cheeks rose in temperature. He scratched the ears of his cat and whispered to him: „What’s with this ship. I’m starting to feel emotions here." He chuckled at his own comments, and waited for the Cydonia to depart.

"In Spacedock at Starbase 74"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price

Captain's Log: Stardate 49807.10

Repairs are being made to the USS Galaxy. She is presently in spacedock at Starbase 74, an extensive Starfleet repair facility in orbit of Tarsas III. Crews are busy working on the many hull breaches and structural fractures the Galaxy sustained from the attacks it received while in Klingon space.

Given the repairs are scheduled to take a couple of weeks to complete, I have issues shore leave to those officers that have requested it. Some are going to visit the local planet, Tarsas III, while others have already put together a shuttle load heading back to Earth for a weeks leave.

Unfortunately, I will not be able to take advantage of this down time because of the workload placed on the shoulders of a Starfleet Captain. I must oversee the repairs, and continue to answer questions posed by Starfleet Command over our recent unauthorized visit into Klingon Territories. I've also got a stack of reports that need to be filed that have piled up in my absence...

One such report I am happy to attend to. Several officers on board the Galaxy will be receiving promotions for their diligent service over the last several months. These will include:

Lieutenant JG Chen
Lieutenant JG Sharp
Lieutenant JG Prince
Lieutenant JG Counselor Ral
Lieutenant JG Hermedhie
Lieutenant JG Bishop
Lieutenant JG Taurean

I have notified the Department heads of each of these outstanding officers to have them relay the good news to these fine Starfleet Officers. They all deserve these promotions.

I have also put in to have Lieutenant Commander Paran enrolled in an advanced field tactical training program Starfleet Command reserves for their top officers. Chanor has caught a ride with several of the other Galaxy officers heading for Earth for some R&R. The course will last a full three months, and I have every confidence that the Lieutenant Commander will complete it successfully, even though the drop out rate for the survival and training course is over sixty percent.

"Computer close log." Captain Price called out, seated at his Ready Room desk.

The computer responded with a high-low acknowledgment tone.

Lee drummed his fingers on the top of his desk while glancing at the d'k tahg on it's display. He missed his friend, K'Ral. Glancing out the observation window, instead of a field of black space and brilliant stars, the Captain saw the silver gray bulkheads of the spacedock walls the ship was currently residing within. Outside, crews of repair engineers were busy replacing and repairing panels that had been ruptured in what was being called "the jawbreaker battle".

Presently, the spacedock doors of the Starbase were closed, and the repair bay had been completely pressurized to facilitate the repairs to the outer hull of the Galaxy class starship. Feeling a little confined, probably because of the absence of stars, but also because of the pile of reports on his desk, Lee decided to take a walk about that Starship Captain's rarely get to go on.

Exiting the Ready Room, the Bridge looked very lonely. There were only two people present on the normally crowded control center of the vessel. Ensign Makoko was currently sitting in the command chair, making sure no system alarms sounded. Not that there was much chance of that. While parked in the spacedock, the only systems that were presently on-line were life support, artificial gravity generators, and minimal power to the rest of the ship's systems like turbolifts, lighting, replicators, etc.

"All quiet 'mate?" Lee asked.

Ilo nodded, "To the extreme Captain." Makoko agreed in his deep, Congonian voice.

Lee smiled in his 'at easy' grin. "Don't sweat it 'mate. Makes for an easy assignment. I'm going out for a walk about on the ship. If anything comes up, feel free to give me a hail."

"I will do that sir." the dark skinned Ensign nodded, "Have a pleasant trip."

The Captain gave Makoko a wink. "I plan on it 'mate. G'day."

Walking up the command ramp, the Captain gave the security officer on duty a nod. It was Ensign Rios, one of the Klingon officers that served on the Galaxy. Evidently the offer of shore leave didn't appeal to him. That, or he simply wasn't in a position to pick and choose his assignment. "G'day Ensign." Lee smiled walking past the Security officer and stepping into the turbolift.

"Captain." Kornan acknowledged with a slight nod.

The turbolift doors swooshed shut, leaving Ensigns Makoko and Rios on the bridge to watch over the space docked Starship.

*****

The Captain exited on Deck 25. Stepping out of the turbolift, he walked briskly through the corridors, making his way to the Dorsal docking port. The huge pressurized doors and hatches that normally remain sealed when the Starship is in space were open. Lee gazed at the sight for a moment before tugging on his uniform jacket and stepping through to the out side.

It wasn't Lee's first time outside on the hull of the Galaxy. When Captain Shoak first retired his command, Captain Price helped oversee a year long refitting of the USS Galaxy at the Utopia Planitia fleet yards at Mars. When the ship was being fitted with the new quantum torpedo launchers, rapid pulse phaser arrays and thermal armor plating, Lee got the opportunity to walk on the hull and see first hand what a work of engineering genius the galaxy class really was. With the pseudo reality of the holodecks and their technology, nothing could still replace the real thing. To actually walk on the surface of the great ship and touch it's panels... It still gave the Captain goose bumps even now.

A galaxy class ship is a huge vessel. From within, it is hard to fathom just how massive the ship really is. One is contained by the layout of the decks, by the height and width of the ceiling and walls. Indeed, one could easily be inside a massive building rather than on a starship, and would possibly never know. But out here, on the actual hull of the ship, feeling the curl of the outer hull plates, walking the surface of the saucer section and seeing the subsections and the angled surfaces of the many escape pods close up,... it gave one an entire different perspective and scale to this engineering marvel called the USS Galaxy.

In the distance the bright colored flashes of many welders could be seen. Another team of engineers where busy using the over head crane of the Starbase spacedock to maneuver a large replacement panel into position.

Lee just watched, placing his hands on his hips and taking in how lucky his was being the Captain of a ship such as this one. So rarely does one stop and think about how lucky there are at a specific moment in time. Right now, that was what Captain Robert Edward Lee Price was doing, and he was doing it with a smile.

Romantic Interlude and a Sad Goodbye
Casey Ti Miran

Miran finished setting the last candle. Everything was in place. Thank goodness for babysitters so she could have this night with Deiran before leaving to visit Earth. The mood was perfect. The holodeck program would be perfect but first, dinner.

The room was aglow with candle light, no other light but the stars out the window shown. Deiran entered to find his wife glowing in the pale light, the blond of her hair catching the rays of the candle light. Her dress shimmered with the flickering of the flames, its primary color blue to set out her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, my love," Deiran whispered playing with one of her banana curls that hung down the side of her face.

They just stood embracing each other for a moment before Miran seated him at the table. Miran poured their drinks into the fine crystal goblets. The meal was simple- white fish with baby carrots. Conversation was almost nonexistent as both knew what the other was thinking.

After the meal they strolled arm in arm to the waiting holodeck. Miran reserved it couple of days in advance to have this evening.

The music drifted through the air. The moon shown in all its splendor. Miran lead Deiran to the gondola. It was reminiscent of their first date, though of course changed. Miran was no longer like a little lost puppy grieving over lost love. She wasn't afraid of Deiran as she was. The program had been changed, she made it a romantic evening instead of a program trying to impress a shy flower.

Miran snuggled close to Deiran. The gondola was poled through the canals of Venice while sweet music was played by an outstanding violin player. The stars in the heavens shown down on two people greatly in love. They whispered sweet nothings to each other.

After a little while, phase two of the romantic interlude was revealed. Miran had arranged for a beach blanket under the starry sky on a deserted beach. Nothing would interrupt them for a little while. The evening was theirs.

*** The last of her belongs were stowed. Miran and Lara were going to go to Earth to see her surrogate family. Miran was going to miss Deiran but she was excited to be going back to Earth. She hadn't seen the Stephins since the wedding.

"We will be back, I promise, my love," Miran comforted Deiran. He understood her desire to see her family but he wanted her with him. He would miss her terribly.

"I know, you know I will always love you." The kissed and for a moment Miran stood listening to Deiran's heart beat in his chest.

"Well, I better get the shuttle ready. I should run my own preflight, just to feel comfortable. I will miss you."

"And I you," Deiran took his daughter into his arms. "And I will miss you my angel." Miran smiled at Deiran's interaction with Lara. He was a good father.

Miran and Lara wished him a final goodbye.

It was pure chaos. A maelstrom of malevolence surrounded him wherever he looked. Obstacles seemed to appear in his path, preventing his flight. Incessant noise everywhere - he couldn't think! Shadows emerged from the dimly lit room, obscuring his vision, blinding him to the things he needed to see!

Have you ever tried to work in an office where there was construction going on?

Sunder pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to massage the tension out of his forehead. A migraine had developed just behind his eyes and the welding and hammering in the outer rooms weren't helping any. Furthermore, data-units were strewn eveywhere in his office, all out of order, and making it hard for Sunder to complete his paperwork.

He had recommendations to write, service records to amend, progress reports on the repair work to update, and letters of consolation to address to the families of the killed. He also had to arrange the security details in Sickbay for Cat. He didn't feel up to chasing Klingons all over the damn ship - not after they'd spent so much time in putting it back together again. Not to mention himsef, he added, wincing as he touched the still-sensitive kidney area on his lower back.

Then there was Xala...

Her sudden departure had proved something of a shock to him. He'd have thought that she would have given him some sort of notice before she tried a stunt like this. It was Bolus Three all over again. That time she'd left him, claiming that she'd been forced. But he knew deep down that the opportunist in her saw the right time to jump ship. Old habits died hard, only she'd left a lot more behind than the last time.

He'd been in a foul mood for the past couple of days as a result. To make matters worse, he'd received the official notice from Dergaus of the House of Kras that their blood duel had not been forgotten. Sunder had sent off a reply stating that he hadn't forgotten it either. Matters were outstanding but would have to be dealt with sooner or later. For Commander Paran Chanor's return from tactical training. Albrecht had performed so admirably when Sunder had been incapacitated from a disruptor blast. In fact, Sunder was recommending Albrecht for the Starfleet Diligent Duty Award. He regretted his harsh words to him earlier when he found out about Xala. Perhaps this would make up for it in some small way.

" We who command must first learn to serve. " He quoted silently under his breath to himself. Powerful words, he thought and threw himself back into his work. He needed to get his reports finished in time for their arrival at Starbase 74

*************Hours later ***************

A quick examination of the security centre showed that Albrecht had done himself proud. The ops area was completely operational again, if somewhat cosmetically spartan. Still, the main repair work could be completed by the starbase technicians. His people had done their best.

They were in drydock at Starbase 74. Technicians wandered in and out of damaged areas. Replacing panels, restructuring bulkheads - in short, restoring the GALAXY back to her former state of glory. Sunder took all of the frenzied activity in stride, silently pleased that order was replacing chaos in his universe.

Unable to run, he forced his body to accept a short walking tour around the starbase. He couldn't sit still. Despite his weariness, Sunder had to get ' out and about ' as they say. On his way, he took opportunity to casually inspect the repair work on the brig, his quarters and the armouries.

He found Mathew Albrecht working on a security forcefield in one of the brigs. His hands appeared to be blistered from obviously getting too close to the conductors. All the other brigs were empty with the transfer of prisoners to the starbase - which had followed with routine operation, Sunder was relieved to hear.

" Mr. Albrecht, what do you think you're doing? " He asked sternly. The unexpected sound of his voice startled Albrecht, making him drop an isolinear chip.

" Jeezus Sir, but you scared the hell out of me! " He exclaimed. Sunder took a rare opportunity to smile.

" Sorry. I'll ask again though: what do you think you're doing? Let the base techs take care of that. "

Albrecht eyed the brig force field emitter ruefully. " I suppose I should. I just hate leaving shoddy work. " He grinned.

" You've put in more than your fair share Albecht. Take some shore leave. "

" I've actually put in for the trip back to Earth. " Mathew admitted. " I figured that would be a hell of a shore leave; go back and see Alaska and all. It may be cold, but it's home. "

" That's right, " Sunder remembered. " You're Earth native. Well, you'll have to bring back some holos for me. All the places on Earth, I never got to see Alaska. Though I'm sure it can't compare with the ice plains on one of the Orion Homeworlds. " He added. " The cold there blows straight through a man like he was a wooden pennywhistle. In cold season you can't see the stars at night for all the frozen vapour in the atmosphere. "

Mathew nodded in appreciation. " That sounds like Alaska, though the stars there are the clearest anywhere on the planet - at least I like to think so. I think you'd like it there. Why don't you join us for the trip and I can show you around Whitehorse. "

Sunder shook his head. " No, thank you. I've sat on my backside long enough this trip around. I think I should get back to work. Besides, you deserve the time to yourself. A man's homecoming should be his alone. Perhaps I'll take you up on it at a later date. " Albrecht shrugged his shoulders.

" Okay. How's the kidney? " He asked.

Sunder looked cross. " How did you find out about that? "

" Dr. Khatroweena's on the war-path. Apparently she'd like you to do more lying on your ass than you want. I suppose you didn't get back to her on your sudden departure from sickbay. "

" Damn. " Sunder muttered. " I'll have to steer clear of her. Thanks for the warning. "

" Don't mention it. " Mathew replied.

" Albrect... Mathew, " Sunder began a bit uncomfortably. " I ... snapped at you earlier in security. I apologize. In no way does it excuse my actions, but I was just out of sickbay and the news of Rin - Xala's departure was a bit of a shock, to say the least. "

" S'okay chief. " Mathew said. I understand. "

" Thank you. Well then, with Lt. Commander Paran's tactical training, I need an interim ASCO. Up for the job? " Sunder asked. Albrecht looked a bit stunned.

" Whoosh - out of the blue! No warning - just like that, eh? " He answered.

" Just thought I'd put a bee in your ear. Think about it and let me know when you get back. Thanks for your all your good work. " He shook Albrecht's hand earnestly. " Good job. "

Sunder turned and headed off for his walk. Albrecht called him, forcing him turn back to look at him.

" Chief? "

" Yes Albrecht? "

" Watch out for Dr. Khatroweena! "

"Too Many Deaths"
by Lt.Cmdr. Ursa Sunder and Ensign Xavier Bishop
Security
USS Galaxy

Xavier sat in the darkness of his quarters staring into the black void that was his computer console screen. *So many deaths?* He had been released from sickbay a few hours ago with orders to proceed directly to his quarters for 'more' rest. But he couldn't 'rest' so he sat in the darkness reevaluating the circumstances and conditions of "too many deaths." Scuttlebutt was racing through the ship like a plasma fire raging out of control. In the wake of the Galaxy's duel with three Klingon battle ships, it seemed everyone was in an uproar over the numerous death's of Galaxy personnel. *Too many deaths.*

The Klingons had boarded the Galaxy in two groups. The first was a decoy. The primary force beamed aboard the ship under the cover of thoron emitters making their pressence virtually invisible to sensor scans. This secondary force managed to compromise the Galaxy's primary sensor and weapons array leaving the Galaxy both blind and defenseless as she dualed with three Klingon battle ships. *Too many deaths.*

Ensign Taureen had discovered the Klingons use of thoron emitters and warned the bridge crew to scan for any concentrations of thoron particles. Otherwise, the masked Klingon's may never have been discovered. *Too many deaths.*

Security, engineering, and scientific teams raced against time to bring the compromised systems back on line. All under fire from Klingon sabeteurs. *Too many deaths.*

Lieutenant Commander Ursa Sunder ordered the ship to be flooded with eleamine gas to prevent too many deaths.

Too many deaths had given Casey the time to perform his untried, unproven and risky tactics against three Klingon battle ships as Klingon torpedoes ripped through the Galaxy's hull. But all heroism was purchased at such a cost. *Too many deaths.*

The ship would not have survived without too many deaths. Life was always purchased with TOO MANY DEATHS.

Xavier pushed back from his desk and gathering up his PADD strode puposefully from his quarters.

***** SecChief Sunder's Office *****

Xavier stood outside Lieutenant Commander Sunder's Office. *The Dragon's Den.* The doors slid silently open. "Enter." the word rumbled ominously from the darkness of the chamber like a distant avalanche. *Strip me butt ass naked and throw me into a pit full of rabid targs.* Xavier looked apprehensively into the imagined darkness of the room. A smile slowly stretched across his face as he set his jaw and stepped in.

Xavier marched with military precision to stand at attention in front of his SecChief's desk. "You're supposed to be resting, Ensign." It was a command not an observation.

*Breath in. Hold it. Breath out. Slow.* Xavier swallowed against the knott which was lodged in his throat. "Yes, sir. Well..." he swallowed again "...I have had plenty of 'rest', sir. During my leave of extended 'rest' I have heard much scuttlebutt concerning the tragically high number of deaths aboard the Galaxy. This would mean we, as a crew, have not performed our jobs effectively." He fell silent.

A shadow crossed over Ursa's face and a deep fleshy crag split up his forehead as he furrowed his dark brows together. His eyes were mere slits. Despite the darkness wich shadowed Ursa's eyes, Xavier could see the boiling storm which flashed and twinkled from the very depths of Ursa's soul. "Speak."

*Where do I start? Leap into the Dragon's Maw.* "Sir. Quite frankly. The number of deaths was too low." Xavier stared into his commander's eyes.

The glint in the dragon's eyes exploded driving the darkness from the room. Xavier stepped back defensively, anticipating Sunder to throw himself across the desk. Instead, Sunder's massive arms raised themselves, his arms grasping the sides of the desk. He opened his mouth to speak and Xavier unconsciously flinched futilely against the impending roar of the dragon, "You cold hearted bastard." Ursa said simply, frost covering each word.

"And just how much blood are we supposed to have swam in, mister?!" Ursa clutched at the corners of his desk with his great hands. His muscles tensed across his back and shoulders. The desk groaned against the abuse of Ursa's strength.

Xavier fought against the urge to run. He braced himself and stared into the raging storm of the dragon standing before him. "Sir, we were one ship against three Klingon battle ships. Klingon ships, sir! Klingons!!" Xavier raised his voice.

"Continue, Ensign." Ursa seethed and the words froze in mid-air as an icy blast washed over Bishop' body, raising shivers up his spine.

" Sir. " began Xavier holding out his PADD toward Ursa. "I have gone over all the tactical data concerning the battle as well as the scientific data. I have come to one conclusion. We should have died. We, ALL, should have died."

Ursa lashed out and snatched the PADD from Xavier's grasp. He looked into Xavier's eyes with his own burning coles. The temperature suddenly changed in the room as more flaming words dripped from his teeth. "Yes, ensign. We should have died. Some of us did die."

Xavier continued. "Sir, we fought against Klingons: a race of beings who are bred to warfare. Not only did they have superior odds which weighed in their favor, but, they also had the element of complete suprise. To top that off, the main force of their boarders, masked by small portable thoron generators, managed to knock out our primary weapons array and our sensor array. We were blind and defenseless. But we kept fighting and dying."

Ursa simply stared at Xavier; the firestorm seemingly subsiding.

" Sir, if it had not been for your insight and training, we would not have known what to do: how to react. Without Ensign Taureen's discovery of thoron emitters, we might never have been warned of the actual number of Klingon boarders. Without the speedy response of engineers to patch our ship back together and without science to analyze our sensory data we would never have survived. "

" My insight... ", Sunder repeated sarcastically. " It doesn't matter to those who died now Ensign, does it? All the training, all the fancy maneuvers in the book don't amount to anything when you think of the losses. "

Xavier paused briefly. "Sir. What I am trying to say is, we beat them. Against all tactical odds we beat them. Our deaths should have been much higher. I think everyone has overlooked this fact. Those 'few' of us who died did so to save the rest of us. It angers me, sir." Xavier dropped his head and whispered, "We owe all those who gave their lives a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. Yet we belittle their sacrifice with our own petty selfishness: our own guilt knowing we would not now be alive if it was not for their sacrifice. Too many deaths. It angers me. They deserve better than sympathy."

" What do you suggest then, Ensign? Get a picnic together in the holodeck for the survivors? An accounting of all that was lost and a bill send to some Starfleet Admiral? I know, why don't you ask Commander Casey if his dad can arrange for a few days off while you get your head together? We can't replace the losses, Bishop. All we can do is remember them. " Sunder's eyes took on a pain of their own just then. " Sometimes all we have left are memories even when they aren't dead. "

Xavier had been in charge of sending security details into the thick of battle. He had sent crewmen into battle knowing they would never see their families or friends again. Xavier looked straight into the calm and serene eyes of the dragon whispering, "I should not have survived, sir. They all died around me. They died because I commanded them too. Because the Galaxy needed them too. They don't need sympathy. They need praise."

Sunder suddenly saw Bishop in a new light as he remembered the Andorian's age. Bishop looked the young man that he actually was. While Sunder was hardly a Methusulah, he had at least a few more years of experience and rank on the ensign. This wasn't an occasion to mentally slap the boy into shape; he needed understanding. Bishop was devastated, and Sunder mentally rifled through his memories and remembered that Bishop had survived a Klingon raid once before as a child. Sunder could appreciate the background, having suffered a similar experience in his youth.

He finally stood up from his desk, no longer the dragon that Bishop had originally envisioned. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he indicated for Bishop to drop his rigid posture and to sit down.

" They will always need praise, Mr. Bishop, and they will get it on my watch. I'll suggest to the captain that a memorial service should be held and would be appreciated by those who are all too aware of their losses. " The young security officer nodded his head.

" This will happen again Mr. Bishop. I'm not going to lie to you. You'll lose friends, and you'll feel that it should have been you instead of them, but that's natural. As long as you learn to let it go. Don't let it consume you. Remember, those that gave their lives did so for you to go on. They accepted the price - just as you would do if you were in their place. "

Bishop nodded his head again. " I understand what you're saying, sir. But how do I deal with the fact that they had no choice. I ORDERED some of them into sacrificing themselves, and that's the part that eats me up inside. "

Sunder looked somber. " There's a story of another ship's captain in one of the navies on 18th century earth I want to tell you about Bishop. It was during one of the great conflicts of the time and the captain - an Englishman, was captured by the French as a prisoner of war. He watched his entire ship be taken as a prize and his whole crew clapped in irons for execution later on. His predicament was hopeless. When asked why he seemed emotionless about the entire situation, he answered that it was what his crew expected of him. " Sunder accessed the replicator for a cup of moccacino. He replicated a glass of water for Bishop and handed it to him. Bishop took it gratefully and drank it down.

" The captain eventually escaped, along with only a small handful of men. But it was only because the crew understood that the situation was desperate and only the captain's leadership and their ability to sacrifice for their crewmates would enable them to salvage some sort of victory. "

" That's me, you, Mr. Sterner - the captain. " He said, pulling names out of the air. " Everyone who wears a uniform on this ship has a responsibility to the other. ' In order to command, you must first learn to serve. ' Remember those words, Mr. Bishop. You serve your fellow officers first and command second. If you can keep that straight, then it makes the whole process easier to understand. It's still horrible when an officer goes down, but you know why it happens. "

Bishop stood up. " I see what you're saying, but I still grieve sir. "

" No-one's asking you not to. There's always time for grief. " Sunder replied. He tried to lighten the mood a little. " Just be prepared for the real bloodbath that's coming up. "

Bishop suddenly looked tense. " What's that sir? "

" When the captain reads the full extent of Mr. Casey's damage report to the ship! "

=/\= "Reconvergence" =/\=
by Greer Erickson
and Matthew Albrecht

The main offices of the Science department bustled with activity. The labs had all been reopened, and each one was the focus of much attention. Experiments that had been damaged, destroyed, or neglected were again being started. Spirits, however, were good; The ship had survived, and work could be resumed. With the cessation of so much research, very few progress reports were being filed. Ambitious young scientists, usually eager to discuss ideas with their CO, were far too busy to disturb him. The Chief Science Officer's door, usually open to his busy staff, stood closed while he concentrated on his own pet project.

**** CScO's Office ****

"Computer, access personal research file, Erikson-alpha-zero-two." he said, the computer following the request with an electronic whirl and then a beep. "Access visual logs and display a representation of the individual Kang, making extrapolations for any physical components not visible in the images."

The computer complied with the request, producing a holographic image of the old Klingon warrior according to the station logs of Deep Space Station K-7. Walking around the image, Erikson glanced over the representation not exactly sure what he should be looking for. "Computer, now access Starfleet records pertaining to the sightings of Kang on Deep Space Nine and repeat command."

One again the computer produced an image of a Klingon, this time according to the station logs on Deep Space Nine. Some eighty years later, apparently the same man, yet they looked remarkably different in terms of their facial appearance. "Computer, hypothetic question . . . using the comparitive analysis completed previously descibe in the research file, account for possible changes in appearance. Limit suggestions to facial changes."

["Cosmetic surgery, medically related disease, genetic abnormalities, clonal drift . . ."]

"Stop." Greer said as he interrupted the computer. "I think we can eliminate cloning or cosmetic surgery. Computer, can the differences in facial appearance be the result of racial differences from within the Klingon Empire or possibly as a result of aging?"

["Negative."]

"Computer, I am going to present a hypothetic situation. Based on the information found in personal research file Erikson-alpha-zero-two, what is the most likely explaination for the differences between the two images identified as Kang."

["An explaination would depend on the context of the apparent changes. There are no hypothetic applications for this data."] the stoic female voice replied.

Lieutenant Erikson found himself once again staring at the two Kangs. "So you are the same person yet you look different. Why?"

["Unable to determine an explaination."]

**** Main Brig ****

Each cell had been filled with detainees. Ruddy faces, long black hair, and pointy, dangerous looking teeth dominated the view beyond every force field in the facility. A half-dozen guards stood about the area, armed, observing their charges. Ensign Baerl punched a few commands into his panel, "All clear in the cargo bay. Shall I report the bay's availability to Ops, sir?" he asked, anticipating his superior's wishes.

Lieutenant Albrecht put down his large stack of personal PADDs, "Affirmative, ensign. Give the ops officer my regards and thank them for the use of the cargo bay," he added. He then picked up a duty PADD from the duty station, and keyed in his approval of the prisoner transfer. Walking into 'commander Sunder's office, Matthew put the PADD down on Ursa's desk, after adding a note that said, "Commander, I will return to duty in fourteen hours. Going to tie up a project and sleep -- Albrecht."

He reentered the brig area, and acknowledged the men and women working there with nods and eye contact. They were all alert and professional, 'totally on' as the enlisted men would say. When he joined Baerl again, he picked up his PADDs which contained his research materials on the Klingon mystery. "Alright Baerl, you're in charge of the brig. See you tomorrow," he said, and walked from the room. Sleep would wait a couple of hours, he decided. Holodeck 2 was reserved for him--a little unwinding would help his mind focus on the questions that were unanswered.

**** Holodeck 2 ****

"Computer, scene: Grand Tellar Pan-Galactic Resort, Pool area. Season: Summer. Time: Mid-morning," he instructed. He watched the black and gold gridlines of the holodeck become obscured by the scene he had described. An olympic-sized swimming pool surrounded by tropical forest, connected to civilization only by a small stone trail heading off into the trees. Beautiful slate slabs formed the decks of the poolside, with natural stone formations making up the lounges and benches. Handmade silken parasols shaded the tables around the shallow end of the pool. Matthew set his PADDs down at a nearby table, and kicked off his shoes.

He stripped; "Computer, swimming attire Albrecht-one." On the bench nearest him, Matthew saw his trunks appear. Red and orange, they were a bit longer than the current vogue, and fit his thighs tightly--Gary's coaching had bulked up the lieutenant in the past few months, but Matthew hadn't adjusted his size in his holodeck programs. He changed into the shorts, and started some stretching exercises.

A few minutes later, he approached the diving tower. The hotel he had instructed the computer to reproduce was known for its popularity with traveling divers. Many time Matthew had participated in swim tournaments in Tellar's capitol city, and each time his parents had gotten him a room at the 'Pan Galactic.' The diving tower was made of stacked, native slabs of slate. Very little stonework had been done to the slabs, which were placed almost exactly as they had been quarried for a more 'natural' feel. He climbed, his feet absorbing the early morning heat from the stones as he climbed. The texture of the slate was exactly as he remembered it--one of those odd things about a holodeck, how did it know??

At the top, he looked down at the pool, just as he would have if there had been others around the pool--though he was alone. He mentally prepared himself, and backed up on the platform. Twelve meters above the surface of the water, he thought about his dive. He would do no trick dives, just yet. He changed his stance, standing at attention, mentally counting down from five. Then he sprinted in three long strides, planted his feet at the platform's edge, and swung his body out over the water. He spread his arms, inhaled deeply, and then brought his hands together and plummeted fingertips first into the pool, leaving very little disturbance and virtually no splash of water to wet the poolside.

He broke the surface a moment later, wet hair gleaming, smiling broadly. His head was totally clear, no worries or concerns clouding his expression. Two more dives, perhaps with tumbles or some such, and he would be ready to resume his studies into Klingon cover-ups...

**** Greer ****

Tapping his index finger repeatedly on the surface of the desk, Lieutenant Erikson stared unwaveringly at the desktop console. After several minutes he finally ceased making the rhythmic sound with his finger and crossed his arms, continuing to stare at the display screen. He had eliminated all possibility of known medical disorders, covert missions, accidents, computer anlayses, quality of the visual logs, and just about every possible aspect that he could think of. Still, nothing seemed to fit. What was the link between Albrecht's discrepencies and those he found in the database?

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Matthew Albrecht."

["Lieutenant Matthew Albrecht is in Holodeck Two."]

**** Matthew ****

The PADDs were arrayed around the stone table, under the parasol, in the shade. Matthew picked up each PADD in turn, studied it for a few minutes, then put it down to pick up another. He picked them up quickly, making faces while he looked them over and scanned through pages. When putting them down, he slapped them into the hard surface in agitation. *I don't get it. I don't get it. Where's the scandal? What's the big secret they want to hide so badly?* The only clues he had were the types of information that had been broadly falsified--medical and lifestyle texts more than any other--and the photo plates of smooth-foreheaded Klingons, very Terran-looking except for their complexions and dress.

The officer stood, and paced across the deck in his bare feet. He couldn't think. The pool, while it had cleared his head, had made him too relaxed to think about this problem. He needed a different environment to do his thinking. But where could he shake up his tired mind enough to think in the convoluted manner he needed? He needed noise, commotion, distractions to block out! Then it came to him, someplace he had only been to once, someplace his father would never approve of...

"Computer, new setting: the Tellarite Gentleman's Club. Time: Night. Include staff and guests for a weekend at happy hour."

The computer made a sour note. ["Unable to comply. Setting is not in database."]

Matthew wasn't surprised. He tried to recreate the image of the club in his mind. "Okay, listen up, computer; The Tellarite Gentleman's Club is a club for Tellarite men only. It is approximately five hundred square meters, with dark native hardwood paneling..."

**** Greer ****

"...Thank you. Erickson out," he concluded. Ensign Taureen had just notified him that the analyses of the data from the Klingon Knife of Korom were nearly complete. He had promised to visit her laboratory soon.

The chief science officer stood from his desk, and straightened his jacket. *Surely Matthew won't mind me interrupting his leisure time,* he reasoned. He gathered up his PADD of research findings. *It's about time we put our minds together again...* He left his office, walking past the productive junior science officers who paused in their work to note his exit. Those who had been there the longest could tell something preoccupied the man's brilliant mind.

After exiting his department, he allowed curiosity to prepare him for interrupting the security officer's off-duty time. "Computer, what holodeck program is lieutenant Albrecht running in holodeck two?" he asked. He hoped to reassure himself that whatever Matthew was doing wasn't too personal.

["Lieutenant Matthew Albrecht is currently running program 'Albrecht T.G. Club Alpha,'] the computer informed him. Greer was relieved, obviously Matthew was relaxing in a friendly social setting, rather than a solitary one. *An uninvited guest shouldn't be a problem for the man.*

Soon he arrived at the holodeck doors, and walked right through without hesitating. It took a moment for the 'Club's personality to set in. The vast, low-ceilinged chamber stretched out in all directions from the door, with steps up and down to different split-levels. Lighting was very low, mostly provided by shaded lamps hanging down from above. Golden-colored glow- panels were in each corner as well, providing a sense that there were no physical boundaries to the place. The walls were paneled with dark wood, which had a strange veined appearance that stood out across the room. The air was smoky, with a licorice scent. Thick, rough woven carpeting in multiple rich colors ran in paths toward the corners of the club.

The central chamber had a higher ceiling than the others, to allow for a stage. On the stage were several dancing Tellarite women, unclothed, moving to heavy pounding rythms that probably flooded the main chamber, but sounded muffled in the foyer where Greer stood. The place was large and crowded, and he couldn't see Matthew anywhere. He could see scantily-clad Tellarite waitresses moving about through the crowd, taking orders. The guests, he now noticed, were all men... Tellarite men, in fact.

The Maitre'de approached him from a small podium where some data was scrolling across its face. He was a short man, even by Tellar standards. He had a carefully manicured mustache, twisted elaborately into four points. He wore a sidearm. As he reached Greer he harrumphed, with a slight snort. "Sir, I'm afraid we don't have anything YOU might be interested in here..." he hinted without subtlety. Actually, for a Tellarite, in Greer's experience, he was quite pleasant.

He was undaunted by the functionary's attitude. "I'm here to meet a friend, he's a member," he guessed, accurately. He looked past the pot-bellied porcine man, trying to spot Matthew.

The fussy little man, hair wildly pinting in every direction, giving him a look of harriedness, seemed unimpressed by the argument. "Still, sir, you must leave; You must leave now. We have a policy, you see. A policy," he repeated with a beaurocrat's pettiness. He thrust out his chin imperiously, appearing like a stubborn child.

Erickson looked down into the black eyes of the Maitre'de, realizing he didn't want to go through this game any more. "Computer, temporarily delete this character," he ordered. The Tellarite might have looked surprised, but he didn't last long enough for Greer to be sure. A sound caught his attention, then. A cracking sound, likebones breaking or... that was it, billiards!

Attracted by the sound, he climbed a nearby half-flight of stairs and found himself in the billiard hall of the club. At a far corner table, Matthew played a game alone, in swimming shorts. Well, not quite alone... one of the under-dressed female staff-members was hanging upon him. Matthew seemed to be ignoring the crazy-haired, snout-nosed woman. With a smooth motion, the security officer struck the cue ball, sending several brightly colored balls careening around the felt.

to be continued...