"Went the day well?"By Ensign Peter Lockhart
And a brief authorized appearance by Lt' von Ernst
"Went the day well?"
By Ensign Peter Lockhart
And a brief authorized appearance by Lt' von Ernst
Peter was in the corridor on deck three and spotted a familiar figure up ahead.
"Annalise?" he said, running to catch his girlfriend up. The pair had been dating (sort of steadily) for about two months now and Peter was quite liking the way things were going.
"Hi Peter." she said turning around to greet him. "You're off to gamma shift." she added, stating a fact rather than a question. Peter never minded her reading his mind, mainly because Peter felt he had nothing he should hide from her. However, he happily made great play about it teasingly.
"Reading my mind again?" he said, tutting and shaking his head slowly. "What's the world coming to these days?"
"Bajor." Annalise answered quickly.
"Smart arse." Peter answered equally as quickly. He kissed her quickly before adding, "Can't stop. Gamma shift calls and I can't be late. T'Zaq is on duty I think, but best not take any chances."
"I call round later." she called after him as he jogged off down the corridor. Peter reached the turbolift, which opened promptly and called for the bridge.
A mere four seconds later, Peter arrived on the bridge a full five minutes before the start of Gamma. As usual Ensign von Ernst was standing at tactical, looking for all the world like a frightened mouse. Which meant she looked like she always did.
"Okay sir." Peter said, addressing her. "Want me to take over, or shall I check over the paperwork at the back station?"
Rebecca turned to face him briefly and Peter caught that another dark pip had appeared next to her silver one on her collar. Peter rolled his eyes slightly and muttered to himself. "I'll get me coat shall I?"
"Take... take over here...uh... Peter." she answered nervously, not sure how to address her new subordinate. "I'll get the paperwork done."
"Congratulations Lieutenant'." Peter said, hitting the word 'leftenant' harder than he intended.
Rebecca looked briefly at him, batting her eyelids. Peter couldn't tell if she was trying something on, or else about to cry. He suspected the latter, so he elaborated. "No. I mean it Lieutenant'. Congratulations. Well done.... I really mean it....." Peter said, still managing to sound forced and insincere.
"Thanks." she managed to crock out, before heading over to the aft tactical station, blinking back the tears. ~~ I knew it I Knew it! ~~ she thought, ~~ Already this stupid promotion is causing problems. ~~
Peter sighed slightly and shook his head. He'd just managed to upset his boss without meaning to. He was really angry about her promotion, but not at her. More that once again he was seeing people who joined the Galaxy after him promoted, whilst he was left behind as an Ensign.
He sighed again and checked the tactical station before looking at the command chair. Lieutenant Commander Kent Peterson sat there, rather than T'Zaq. It surprised Peter not at all to find he was wrong with the duty roster. It regularly happened that he forgot who was supposed to be on at any one time. Probably not a good idea if a battle happened and Peter hadn't a clue who was in charge, but he hadn't thought of that yet.
Peter called up the weapons display on the Galaxy and looked again at the armaments of the Galaxy. Phasers and crappy photon torpedoes. Why could the Galaxy get some 'instant-death-and-doom' weapons like Quantum torpedoes? Photon torpedoes where okay, but Starfleet had been using them since the 1950's or something like that, with only a few upgrades along the way.
"Lieutenant'?" Peter called back to von Ernst.
"Yes?" the petite Lieutenant' answered back, afraid of another verbal assault.
"Can I put in a request to Lieutenant Richeson that next time we spend any significant length of time in dock we upgrade these photon torpedoes to quantum torpedo launchers?" Peter asked.
Rebecca silently squeaked. First phasers on the bridge and now Quantum torpedoes. Lockhart was trigger happy, that was for sure.
On the more analytical side of her brain, she instantly came up with several mathematical models, and combat doctrines, why that would not be a completely sound plan. Reduced storage capacity due to increased support equipment. Elaborate reprograming of the main Tactical Subroutines to handle the new firing parameters, and limited options for low yield conflicts where total annihilation of the enemy was not preferable.
However, the 'scared witless' portion of her brain overruled, and she couldn't seem to get the courage to refuse him. "Sure Peter. Whatever you think is best."
Peter smiled back. "Thanks Lieutenant'. I'll get to work on it right now."
"Mysterious Interludes IV"
With Authorized appearance by Captain Price
(Galaxy)
Crewman Anderson, Dockmaster for Shuttle bay 2, carefully monitored the approach of the incoming Bajoran Flyer, as it slowed to docking speed.
Already the thick hangar doors to shuttle bay 2 were open to space, and only a shimmering blue band of energy kept the atmosphere from dragging everything in the bay (including Anderson) out into the void and vacuum.
"Shuttle, slow to 20 meters per second and adjust yaw up 10 degrees." The Dockmaster advised over the subspace band.
** Very Well GALAXY, If we must. Adjusting now.**
The smooth, world-weary voice that came in over the COMM was supposedly that of the esteemed Professor Ganod from Helix II. The mysterious and rarely seen scholar was renown for his brilliant if controversial papers on galactic Archaeology throughout the sector.
Crewman Anderson did not personally have any interest in the subject, but a quick call from Commander Thomas on the bridge had emphasized the need for the utmost in courtesy and politeness.
As if on cue, a chirping bell announced an incoming call from the bridge. =/\= Bridge to Shuttle Bay 2....Stand by to relay Communications to Captain Price on the Surface. He wants an update on the Visitor. =/\=
The DockMaster nodded and waited while the chirping and beeping of the relay was established.
=/\= Price here. I understand I'm missing out on some excitement while I'm on walkabout. Status report 'mate? =/\=
"Anderson here sir. I have the Professor's shuttle at 2 kilometers aft, and on the glide path. He should be aboard in the next three minutes."
=/\= This Professor Ganod, What kind of chap is he? I seem to recall reading something on him hereabouts? =/\=
Anderson shrugged, forgetting for a moment that his Captian couldn’t see the gesture. "An archaeologist as far as I've been told sir. We checked through Dr. Munroe in Research, and she immediately vouched for him. Apparently its something of an honor to have him pay us a visit.
=/\= Fair Dinkum then 'mate. The Galaxy's getting her fair share of honors as of late. I look forward to meeting this chap at some point. Please express my apologies for not being there in person to greet him. =/\=
"Aye sir, Although I think Dr. Munroe is going to monopolize most of the Professor's time aboard."
=/\= Dr. Munroe? Is she there with the welcoming committee? =/\=
Anderson stole a sideways glance at the 40-ish woman dressed in civilian clothes, eagerly awaiting the arrival of one of her personnel heroes.
"Yes sir, The Dr. seems quite enthusiastic."
=/\=Acknowledged crewman, keep the Professor happy, and I'll be along shortly. =/\=
"Aye sir, keeping the Prof happy."
Anderson grinned to himself at the small joke, and concentrated on the approach pattern. It was just barely possible to make out the silver-gray hull of the Bajoran shuttle with the naked eye through the open hangar door, but the tall crewman preferred to rely on the sensor data that was streaming before him on the LCARS display.
Dr. Munroe, the ship's foremost expert on Archaeology fairly tittered with excitement. She was not technically a member of the Galaxy's crew, but she did avail herself of the unique opportunities that life aboard a Starship provided. A leading mind on the cutting edge of modern Archaeology, Dr. Munroe had found herself amazed in recent years by the sudden appearance of articles published by the reclusive Professor Ganod of Helix II.
Ganod's work was at once captivating and insightful, and at the same time emotional. The Professor seemed to concentrate his research on not only dead civilizations, but specifically on planets whose people had suffered through severe tragedy and suffering. He carefully documented the death throes of doomed civilizations, and seemed to take curious interest in the morbid aspects of their fall.
The fact that Dr. Munroe (nor any of her associates) had ever met the Professor in person, coupled with the fact that his whereabouts were always rumored to be unknown, only added to the mystery of this melancholy, but brilliant researcher.
In truth she was as much intrigued by the 'man' as by his rather gloomy work.
"Should be only a few minutes more Dr." the Dockmaster assured her with a wink. In fact the approaching flyer was easily visible , hovering just aft of Galaxy's port Nacelle.
Dr. Munroe allowed a guilty smile. Her eagerness was rather apparent to all. ~~ Imagine, the first to meet the famed Professor Ganod. The first to crack the mystery. ~~
The Bajoran shuttle was closer now, and even as she watched, Crewman Anderson activated the powerful docking tractors, and guided the graceful craft into the bay.
There was a slight popping in Munroe's ears as the ship slipped through the force-field that kept the vacuum at bay, but that quickly passed as the flyer settled to the deck with a soft thump.
"After you Dr." Crewman Anderson motioned. Technically all visitors were supposed to be greeted by a member of ships crew, but in this instance he saw no harm in letting the Eager Archaeologist have first crack at her hero.
Smiling her thanks, Dr. Munroe gathered herself, and stepped forward as the side hatch of the flyer opened with a slight whirr.
A tall, cloaked figure appeared at the opening, and the hood slowly angled this way and that, as the eyes within scanned the bay. Finally, with a slow elegant grace, the covered figure stepped slightly off the flyer, and onto the Galaxy. A smaller, equally cloaked figure followed silently behind.
Dr. Munroe gushed, "Professor Ganod, let me be the first to Welcome you aboard the Galaxy. I have been a avid reader of your work and …….DEAR ME!"
Munroe gasped as the cloaked figure threw back the hood of his robe revealing his face.
Professor Ganod was CARDASSIAN!!!
"Bacho beach - duty calls"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price
The gentle tides of Bacho beach rippled over the Captain's bare feet as he walked. His white trousers were cuffed and rolled up to just below his knees while his bare feet stepped through the few inches of surf. The sneakers he had been wearing were tied together and slung over the shoulder of his solid navy button down shirt, secured by a single finger he'd hooked over the knotted laces.
"...and then just like that, he was gone." The female voice besides the Captain stated. Panning back, it's plain to see the Captain isn't walking alone on the beach, but that Kira Nerys, from DS9 is also there. She's wearing a flowered bathing suit, mostly bright oranges and yellows, and a colorful wrap skirt about her waist.
Lee nodded. "It was nearly the same for me 'mate. One minute everything was going so well between Jamie and I, and the next, I see her murdered before my very eyes."
Kira gave a silent nod. "That must have been rough to deal with." She said looking down at the sand as the surf washed over the white sands of the beach.
"Aye. It still is. There are times when I can't believe she's really gone." Price admitted. Glancing over at Kira, Lee added, "How have you gotten along after Vedek Bareil's death?"
"Mostly by putting my efforts into my work." Nerys admitted. "Though there have been a few distractions along the way to keep me occupied. The Dominion war. Captain Sisko's disappearance..." Kira thought of mentioning Odo, but decided against it since he was now gone, having returned to be with his own people in the Great Link.
Lee nodded. "Yes, our work can be an escape from our private lives. There is something about the familiarity of the job. The structured rules and protocols that make it easier to concentrate on those things rather then what it is that we really should be thinking about."
"Exactly. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing is it? I mean, maybe it's just our way of giving ourselves time to heal before dealing with our feelings of loss or regret." Nerys pointed out.
Lee gave another nod. "Time does have a way of putting things into perspective 'mate. I'll give you that."
It looked like the General wanted to say more, but the familiar tone of a Starfleet comm badge interrupted his thought. Reaching into his pocket, the Captain pulled out the shinny gold communicator and activated it with a tap of his thumb, holding it up to his mouth like an old style microphone. "Price here, go ahead Galaxy."
["Hello Captain. I've been asked to relay a message to you from Shuttle bay 2."]
Glancing over at Nerys, Lee responded with a curious tone. "And why exactly would I want to talk to someone in shuttle bay two 'mate?"
["I think it's about the Archeologist, Professor Ganod. His shuttle is approaching the Galaxy now. He's asked to dock and is requesting to see you Captain."]
"I see. Very well, patch me through to the shuttle bay 'mate."
["Very good Captain."]
A moment later the channel was established. Captain Price greeted, "Price here. I understand I'm missing out on some excitement while I'm on walkabout. Status report 'mate?"
["Anderson here sir. I have the Professor's shuttle at 2 kilometers aft, and on the glide path. He should be aboard in the next three minutes."]
"This Professor Ganod, What kind of chap is he? I seem to recall reading something on him hereabouts?" the Captain asked while he and Kira continued their walk along the beach on Bajor.
After a brief pause, Anderson responded, ["An archaeologist as far as I've been told sir. We checked through Dr. Munroe in Research, and she immediately vouched for him. Apparently its something of an honor to have him pay us a visit."]
Lee gave a short sigh before answering, "Fair Dinkum then 'mate. The Galaxy's getting her fair share of honors as of late. I look forward to meeting this chap at some point. Please express my apologies for not being there in person to greet him."
["Aye sir, Although I think Dr. Munroe is going to monopolize most of the Professor's time aboard."] Anderson explained.
With renewed hope, Lee returned, "Dr. Munroe? Is she there with the welcoming committee?"
["Yes sir, The Dr. seems quite enthusiastic."]
"Acknowledged crewman, keep the Professor happy, and I'll be along shortly." Captain Price responded. A sense of diplomatic duty settling in. It was tough being the Captain of a starship and getting any quality time to ones self. He really couldn't think of anything he would rather do then spend more time walking on the beach with Colonel Kira, talking thorough their similar life experiences with loves lost. But duty once again called, spoiling what could have been a lovely evening.
["Aye sir, keeping the Prof happy."] Andersen stated before closing the channel.
Being the first to break that awkwardness after having just eavesdropped on the entire conversation, Nerys smiled and said, "Sounds like this Archeologist is determined to see you Lee."
"Aye. Everyone always wants to see the Captain of the ship. For once it
would be refreshing to have someone come and urgently want to see the First Officer so I wouldn't be bothered with all the diplomatic protocol. But no.. always the Captain."
Nerys laughed at the General's sarcasm. "Believe me, I know exactly what you mean. Since I've taken over running DS9 for Captain Sisco, everyone wants to talk to me as commanding officer."
Stopping, Lee turned and faced Nerys, taking her hands into his own and holding onto them at waist level. "Well I can hardly blame them 'mate. I can think of nothing I'd rather do then stay and talk to you right now."
Her eyes locked on the Captain's, Nerys smiled and with a slight nod, with zen-like accuracy she finished Lee's thought with her own words. "But duty calls. I perfectly understand."
"Why don't you come up to the Galaxy with me 'mate? The dignitary we are hosting, this Madame Kiye and her aide, will be returning to the ship each evening after negotiations. There will be a feast each of the seven days the talks are scheduled to run. You'd be welcome to join us as my guest."
"I don't think so Lee. I didn't bring anything formal to wear..." Nerys stated glancing down at her attractive civilian attire.
With a smile, Lee added, "We can replicate something for you on the Galaxy."
"I don't know." The Colonel stated reluctantly. She wanted to spend more time with Captain Price, but didn't especially want to do it at a diplomatic function while hosting dignitaries from another world. Or with his entire crew around to watch. It would just be too awkward. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass Lee. I really should be getting back to DS9."
"Are you sure mate? Madame Kiye is a very interesting person. I'm sure the Prophetess would enjoy discussing the finer points of Bajoran religion with you."
"As tempting as that sounds, I just don't think it would be my place Lee. Really, it's okay. You go on back up to your ship. We can get together another time." Kira insisted.
With a sigh, Lee gave a reluctant nod. "Very well 'mate. You can't say I didn't give it a shot. Will you be all right here? Will you be spending the night at your hotel? Shall I walk you back?"
"No, don't be silly. I want to walk a bit more on the beach before the sun sets. Then I'll probably just go to my runabout and head back to DS9. There's always something there to keep me busy."
"That always seem to be the case, doesn't it?" Lee smiled. "I had a great time here this afternoon Nerys. Thank you for finding the time to chat with me and show me this wonderful beach."
"My pleasure Lee. There are lots of other sites here on Bajor that I'd like to show you... Schedules and duty permitting."
"I'll keep that in mind 'mate." Lee stated, leaning forward and giving Nerys a friendly kiss on the cheek.
With a somewhat wanting smile, Nerys gave a nod and let go of the General's hands. "Go on now. Your ship needs you."
Backing away, the Colonel watched as Captain Price stood there in the surf and finally reactivated his communicator. "Galaxy. One to beam up 'mates."
["Standing by Captain."] returned the voice over the channel.
"Energize." Lee called out.
Shielding her eyes from the angled sun as it prepared to set off the Bajor coastline, a slight breeze blew while Kira Nerys watched the Federation transporter beam surround Captain Price and transport him back up to the USS Galaxy. When the hazy blue energy field dissipated, leaving Nerys alone on the beach, she let out a long sigh. Touching her cheek where the Captain had kissed her, she smiled, before turning to continue her walk along the white sands of Bacho beach on Bajor.
"Thoughts of a soldier"
By Lieutenant Commander Michael Jamson, Tactical Ops
USS Galaxy
Waking up in the middle of the night, Jamson felt the urge to sip a glass of Lemonade. The sweet yet sour taste of lemons always helped him to wake up. He's been sleeping for 12 hours, compensating for the last stressful couple of days. This 'Diplomatic' mission made him nervous, especially since the Galaxy was so close to the wormhole...he needed the rest. Struggling to get out of bed, Jamson put on his new Andorian silk robe and walked slowly towards the replicator.
On the other side of the room, a red light constantly flashed and beeped rapidly as if it was trying to catch Jamson's attention. After a few moments of glancing around and trying to find his way around his quarters, Michael finally noticed the light was coming from his personal computer terminal and desktop viewer. His workstation was a real mess, with reports and PADDS thrown all over.
Grabbing the pair of uniforms that were hanging from his chair, Jamson tossed them on his bed and sat down slowly. He was still trying to find his way around the room. Without speaking, he just pressed the red button. ["Voice authorization required"] the computer instantly said out loud. The tired lieutenant commander was puzzled, he raised both of eyebrows and whispered "Jamson, 2, Gamma, 8, Delta. Computer...play the bloody message...".
["Authorization confirmed, playing message"].
Michael rubbed his eyes a few more times while trying to understand the message, but only a few seconds passed when he suddenly stopped and just stared at the screen as if he just saw a ghost.
Minutes passed and Jamson still sat on his chair, looking at his personal view screen. He kept playing the message over and over again, as if he couldn't believe what he has just saw and heard. And then, without any warning, he just grabbed his lemonade and tossed it onto the screen, breaking the fragile piece of equipment into tiny little pieces. Next, he moved to his desk and threw all the padds to the floor as if he was possessed and immediately afterwards he left his quarters in a hurry.
**** Holodeck 3 ****
Bodies of Klingon warriors were spread all around the holy Klingon Temple, as Jamson continued to fight more and more of them. Blood covered the entire floor, as well as body parts...symbols and statues of the great Warriors of klingon society and history, the Black Fleet, were marked on the walls and around this shrine. The Klingon wanna be, fought like he never fought before "Die....scum! you must die....!" he yelled out loud as he determined the fate of the hologram. A single stroke with a middle aged sword to the neck was enough to finish this warrior off.
"Computer....raise the difficulty level...." Jamson said while puffing.
["Raising the level of difficulty for this program would disengage the safety protocols. You do not have sufficient access, your request is denied"] The computer replied without hesitation. "Disengage safety protocols...voice authorization, Michael Jamson", he answered.
["You do not sufficient access to disengage safety protocols, any further attempts to disengage the safety protocols would result in a violation of-"], "Ohhhhhhhhh!" Jamson took his sword and crossed the great hall of warriors to the Holodecks doors which appeared out of nowhere, just to strike the control panel and cause the circuits to fail and return the facility to it's known original yellow bricks appearance.
Debris and burned circuits represented what was before the control panel for the Holodeck. Michael was just sitting on the floor, holding his sword close to his heart. He stared at the black metal floor and just waited to see what will happen. He didn't really care...he was a soldier, and he had to face the consequences for his actions, it wouldn't be the first time.
"Personal Log"
*** Federation Embassy, Bajor (day two of treaty negotiations) ***
The lobby and ballroom were quiet. The diplomats had all retreated to the negotiating chamber to resume their discussions. A handful of security officers from the USS Galaxy and Bajoran militia patrolled the rooms as well as the exotic garden where the ambassadors enjoyed the fragrantly-scented fresh air during breaks. Embassy servants, mostly Bajoran men but also quite a few Terrans, refreshed the hors d'ouvres and beverages that colorfully decorated the small tables at the periphery of the ballroom and lobby. One housekeeper pushed a manual carpet sweeper around the floor to ensure a spotless appearance for the influential guests.
A Bajoran woman in a cream-colored jumpsuit crouched at the base of the portable replicator. She slipped the calibration device into her jumpsuit's breast pocket and swung the small access panel shut. She wiped her hands on the taut fabric over her thighs. Activating the comm device on her hip, she said "Ops, this is Loki. The replicator unit in the ballroom is calibrated perfectly. You can tell Ambassador Ordos to drown himself in Andorian spring water."
*** Ops Center ***
In the Ops Center that usually housed the ballroom's lighting and sound engineers, a half-dozen StarFleet operations officers monitored dozens of sensors, recorders, and translation computers. They fielded incoming queries and requests from the diplomatic corps, and monitored external communication frequencies to keep abreast of potential external dangers or disruptions. The highly-trained staff were veterans of treaty negotiations across the alpha quadrant.
One lieutenant jaygee glanced at his maintenance to-do list and thumbed his comm. "Copy Loki. I don't remember telling you that the request came from Ambassador Ordos." The mechanic's reply was sarcastic: "I must be psychic, then."
The 'fleeter thumbed his comm again. He said, "You must be. Your maintenance tasks are cleared, Loki. You're on your own. Wanna grab a bite later?"
While the junior officer tried to talk his way into a date with the desirable local lady, his commander was reassuring their militia liaison. Commander Swanson stood at the unoccupied end of the small room with constable Bryn. "Constable, I assure you that your suspicions are wrong in this case. Aside from the Prophetess and Inherant Mother Tarie, there are no Decilians present at these negotiations. The others you have seen are all Starfleet officers in disguise." He cleared his throat. "Of course, this must remain secret for the time being, you understand."
Bryn didn't seem mollified. "Commander, we just don't want any unknown quantities roaming about the area. The Decilians are known Cardassian sympathizers. We can't be too careful."
The StarFleet operations officer smiled, a bit condescendingly. "Well, that's exactly why we're here. The ruler of Decilia and her six sister worlds is here to end her arrangement with the Cardassians. The Prophetess is on OUR side!"
The gold chain on her ear danced as the constable whipped her head around to look at the monitor that showed Madame Kiye speaking. The elderly woman, her Cardassian-like facial ridges flexing while she spoke, was saying something about shared ideals.
Bryn snarled, "Are you certain?"
*** Negotiating Chamber ***
Ambassadors and their aides populated the seats all around the chamber. The chairs were arranged around two concentric circular tables. The inner table was surrounded by the senior ambassadors while the outer table held aides and junior ambassadors.
Day one had gone well. Everyone agreed that a treaty with Decilia and her neighbors would produce trade benefits for Decilia, Bajor, and the Federation. Everyone agreed that Decilia's citizenry would have greater freedom of movement. Everyone agreed that peace was the primary motivator for all treaty agreements. However, there were still many topics to address and it would be at least another day before the 'nitty gritty' details of the treaty would be discussed: such as the potential for Federation Member status, the exact nature of the Federation military presence in and around Decilia's sector of the Gamma quadrant, and the manner in which the Cardassian forces would be persuaded to move out.
Madame Kiye was just wrapping up her statements on the topic of cultural exchange. "...the very survival of a Theocratic society depends upon cultural interaction. We are a virtually homogenous culture, from a religious perspective. Decilia welcomes the opportunities we will have to travel the Alpha quadrant, sharing our heritage and exploring the wealth of philosophies you all benefit from." The room was politely subdued while she completed her statement. "I learned recently of a Vulcan concept that captures my feeling, and illustrates it as well. It is called IDIC. Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. Our eyes have been opened; to return to the Gamma quadrant and the Cardassian 'protection' we suffer there, would be like blinding a newborn child." The Prophetess, already seated in her repulsor chair, eased it down and back a few inches from the microphone.
The Federation Ambassador from Alpha Centauri stood at his microphone. "Thank you, Madame Kiye. Your heartfelt words have inspired me. As you may know, my homeworld is home to over thirty major religious movements. I would suggest your priestesses make a pilgrimage to Alpha Centauri to compare notes on universalization." Many of the other representatives laughed out loud, happily, at the Ambassador's friendly jest. The Ambassador sat, smiling.
The Bajoran representative, at the outer table, was scowling. He saw his opportunity to speak and stood. "Madame Kiye," he said, emphasizing her honorary with a slight note of nearly-undetectable scorn (she caught it). "You seem sincere. May I point out some facts that might serve to *refresh* your memory?" He didn't wait for permission. "Your faith, the 'Word,' has spread rapidly. In fact, in the past seventy-five years it has spread from your homeworld, Decilia VII, to six other worlds in your sector. Those six worlds, once independant with their own thriving cultures, are now mere puppets under your rule, *Prophetess*."
The Bajoran man paused, glaring at her. "I wonder if you are indeed interested in learning about other cultures. I wonder, *Prophetess*, if you aren't simply interested in spreading your culture like a plague across the galaxy."
Ambassadors around the room were on their feet, barking out protests to the tactless words of the Bajoran representative. A gavel pounded the center table. Demands for order were heard and, soon enough, obeyed. Eventually everyone was seated and into the silence, Madame Kiye spoke.
"Fellow Ambassadors. Honorable representative Niris," she added, addressing the Bajoran. "The other six worlds that belong to our confederacy have histories of strife and suffering that ended soon after they received the wisdom of the Word. More importantly, the unity of our septet has served us all well. Without it, I doubt we would have been able to survive the Cardassians or the Dominion."
She had the attention of all present. "But, perhaps what is bothering you, representative Niris, is me." The Bajoran's eyes revealed this truth. She had seen through him and knew exactly what bothered him. "Allow me to explain something about The Word to you all. The Word is a philosophy that colors the way Decilians view life. It is shelter to us when life is rained upon. It is warmth to us when life grows cold. The Word is not God. I am not a God. My title, given to the Keeper of the Word since the beginning, is Prophetess. The title is not an attempt to usurp the power or influence of Bajor's Prophets. The Prophets are Gods who wield unimaginable powers! I am simply a Prophetess. I am inspired to Prophesy by my close connection to the spirit of the Word. It is that spirit that I wish to offer to all who will listen and learn throughout the Alpha quadrant. I am, Mister Representative, merely a mortal woman who wishes to improve the lot of her isolated people."
The room was again hushed. Several of the Ambassadors were rubbing at their eyes as if to wipe away tears. Representative Niris of Bajor stood halfway from his seat and spoke into the microphone, "Madame Kiye," he began without any trace of his earlier scorn, "I must apologize for my ill-informed comments. I am sorry."
The appointed mediator, Ambassador T'Prun of Vulcan, stood at her seat. "Ladies and Gentlemen. I propose we adjourn for today. We have accomplished much, but we still must accomplish much more before we are through. Tomorrow our goal will be to complete this portion of the proceedings and vote on the statement of intent for the Treaty. Dissenters?" She stood straighter. "Negotiations are now adjourned for the day. Thank you Ambassadors," she said and smacked her gavel.
*** the Ops Center ***
Constable Brynn blinked a few times and nodded slightly. She looked at Swanson. "Maybe she's not so bad after all..."
Swanson just smiled knowingly, "See? I told you. She's on our side."
Lieutenant Seth Zonhieb
Sanchez paused at the door to glance back at the Prophetess and Savat. When she turned again she nearly walked into a wall of green scales in a white dress uniform. "Damn it Seth!" She swore at her self. It was the second time someone had snuck up on her. "Savat assigned you to guard detail too?"
"I'm a secondary." The gorn looked down. "Savat wanted to introduce the Prophetess to the federation diversity."
"This I would love to see." Heather said and stood aside for the Lizard to enter.
Savat's ears picked up the approach of the security detail. While Seth could be quite stealthy for a sentient of his bulk, his breathing had a particular reptilian rasp to it which was quite distinctive, at least to the Vulcan's accute hearing. By the same stance, Savat, for all his best efforts, had never been able to sneak up on the Gorn during training. He could mask much of his approach, even his own thoughts, but he could never hide his scent from the skilled hunter.
"It appears your assigned security detail is approaching, Madame Kiye." Savat stated.
The Prophetess turned her hover chair and faced the approaching tandem of security officers. Her eyes widened as the profile of the lead officer continued to grow. She looked up when Seth approached. Then she looked up some more. "Oh My..." The Prophetess looked at the rows of sharp teeth.
"This creature is a member of your Federation?" She said with some awe and trepidation.
Seth swivled one of his eyes to track a person walking by and said nothing.
"Lieutenant Zonhieb is an honored member of our crew." Savat stated. "You will find the Federation values diversity and judges our members and associates by their intent and their values, not by their appearance. Gorns, such as Lieutenant Zonhieb, are actually one of the less unusual species in the Alpha Quadrant. He is bipedal, breathes an oxygen atmosphere, has liquid blood, communicates via sound waves, has five primary senses, procreates via two genders. Compared to some of the species we have encountered, we are quite similar. I doubt races such as the Medusans, the Tholians, or the Horta could even tell us apart."
"I can't sense anything from you." Madame Kiye tilted her head and looked sideways at the lizard. "It's either the scales or the animal intelligence."
"I'm more intelligent than you think." The big Lieutenant finally spoke. "For one if you're concerned with safety you shouldn't be out in public like this."
The Prophetess seemed taken aback by the suggestion. Savat stepped in an interjected. "Lieutenant Zonhieb takes matters of security quite seriously. As does Lieutenant Sanchez and the rest of your honor guard." He said. "But we are all aware that the necessities of diplomacy require your exposure in less than ideal venues. But you could be no safer than with these officers as your escort."
"You and your officers seem to see danger in everything." The Prophetess remarked.
"It is their duty, and my own, to do so." Savat replied. "Consider this an opportunity to familiarize yourself with the cultures of the Federation. "I currently have nine different species represented in my department alone. I will arrange the security details so that you get to meet all of them during your stay."
"Thank You Savat." The Madame Kiye bowed slightly and the vulcan stood up.
"So tell me about your culture. Lieutenant Zonhieb." The Prophetess didn't waist any time in getting started.
"Dispite what the Commander says there are a lot of differnces." Seth told her he didn't let his talk with her stop him from standing at attention. "For one I am exothermic, or cold blooded. I keep my quarters very warm."
"Yes I would have guessed that." Kiye was being polite and allowing the creature to give her more answers.
"I have a difficult time with my diet but make due." The leiutenant admitted. "I don't hang out in the lounge with the other crew but they respect that."
"And what of your home world?" she asked "What's it like?"
"The gorn don't talk with strangers about it." Seth admitted. "We were a barbaric warrior race until first contact with the federation. Now the planet and everyone on it are better off."
"Excuse me Madam I must speak with the Lieutenant," Savat interrupted. The vulcan addressed the lizard as he would any other member of his staff. "Could you please go meet with the captain and escort him in."
The gorn nodded and walked off giving the Prophetess a good glimps at his tail.
Ensign Corgan’s free time always centers on something constructive or active. He hated relaxing, considering it a “useless waste of time” since whatever you relax from always comes back to bother you. To him, free time was time well spent when you are doing something.
That something was blowing away zombies with ancient Terran weapons. His total frustrations, his aggravation due to the numbskull diplomats that be had to convince he couldn’t help, his boredom because the Dominion didn’t have the stones to attack the Galaxy, all taken out on shambling figures of rotting flesh.
Donned in his black leather chaps, black shades, black shirt labeled “BADASS” in big, white and bold letter, and black leather trenchcoat, Ensign Corgan screamed in defiance as his pump action shotgun screamed out it’s blasts of fire and buckshot. Another corpse doubled over and groaned, spilling blood all over the asphalt. It was the last of the zombies in the pack, and Ensign Corgan breathed a sigh or relief.
He took a look at his surrounding. It was the “Regina City” template, a ruined urban setting under nightfall. Everything on “Cardinal Street” was ruined. Overturned cars were lit on fire, building were torn from the inside, shattered window glass littered the streets, bodies of the undead scattered on the sidewalks and all over was the stench of death, or undeath to be exact. James took off his trenchcoat and cast it aside, revealing webbing with two pistols and a handfuls of grenades and ammunition.
“It’s hot in here,” Ensign Corgan complained, “computer, readjust holoprogram temperature to 20 degrees Celsius, and make it a default setting.”
“Acknowledged.” The computer chirped.
“Thank you.” Ensign Corgan addressed the computer.
“You’re welcome!” The computer responded.
“What the f…”
Ensign Corgan was cut off short by the sound a dozen vehicles. It sounded like it came from Main Street, only a block away from his left. He then heard a lot of skidding, followed by opening and closing doors, footfalls, and lots of orders being screamed by the superiors.
“It’s started. Time to get to the rooftops.” Ensign Corgan said.
He bolted towards the nearest fire escape on one of the many three level brick apartment complexes and climbed up to the roof. Running to the edge, he peered over and watched the scene being unfolded. To his right, at least a block away, was a vast horde of zombies that heavily congested the streets. The drooling, moaning mutants stumbled and shambled forwards, closer to his position. To his right was an amazing sight. It was the “Regina City Police Service” forming a blockade of cars, moving around quickly under the flash of siren lights. Beat cops formed the first line of defense, pulling out their shotguns and pistols, and taking cover right behind their squad cars. Next came the large vans. After they skidded to a stop, black clothed SWAT team members spilled out and re-enforced the line made up by the beat cops. Two blue and white police helicopters hovered above the blockade. Men lowered themselves down from the choppers, while a couple others stayed on with their guns ready.
“Good. Everything is going according to plan.” James thought.
Right behind Ensign Corgan, Lt. Jg. Brightspot to-Srallansre stalked up beside him. The cat-being’s hair was on end, her eyes darting everywhere. Her black clothing was slightly torn at the arm, an indication that she was held up.
“I’m glad you’ve invited me to the holodeck for a program,” Brightspot said, “but did it have to be something like this? This is scary as hell!”
“That’s the whole point.” Ensign Corgan responded, not taking his eyes off the steadily decreasing margin between the cops and the zombies, “It’s supposed to be scary. Scaring the hell out of ourselves brings out the adrenaline. I thought you’d like it.”
“Well, it is invigorating, but I didn’t expect it to be this scary. Only you humans can think of something as strange as the undead.” Brightspot retorted. Her tail twitched nervously.
“Ok, humans are one of the few races that thought of the idea in this fashion, but it is part of human legend.” Ensign Corgan explained, “You see, they embody the scariest experience a human can experience. Humans are naturally afraid to die, but they are even more scared of what will happen to them after they die. Worse yet, they are scared of the dead coming back to haunt them. This is probably how the whole zombie thing happened. This is a more modern tale based on a videogame. It involves a virus that turns humans into zombies, and they overrun a city. The point of it is to escape. Are you up to it?”
“I… think so…” Brightspot stammered. She wasn’t usually this scared of things, but the idea of fighting the living dead, even holographic living dead, was frightening.
“Good. Let’s get started.” Ensign Corgan said, calmly scooping up his shotgun while Brightspot readied her M-16 rifle.
“Computer, portable music player, late 20th century.” Ensign Corgan asked. A set of headphones formed over his head, and a black boxy walkman appears on his belt.
“Computer, play random selections from personal file ‘Corgan 15’ through the music player.” Ensign Corgan requested. "Virus Bomb" By Blast Chamber, one of his sister's signed bands, played on the walkman.
“What the heck are you doing?” Brightspot asked.
“Music puts me in the zombie hunting mood.” Ensign Corgan said, “Now watch for a minute. The zombies are about to storm the blockade.
“Shouldn’t we help them?” Brightspot asked, concerned and really twitchy with the tail.
“No. Whatever we do won’t help the outcome.” Ensign Corgan replied, “It’s set up so that the cops will lose. If we help, there will only be more zombies to replace the fallen. The cops are meant to lose for the plot’s sake.”
“What’s going to happen?” Brightspot asked.
“Massacre.” James responded, “And you can even set yourself up in the blockade if you want, but unless you want to run fast, I suggest that you don’t. Now watch this, and once they get in trouble, let’s jump in and escape for the hell of it.”
“That actually sounds like fun.” Brightspot said, her tail swaying lazily back and forth.
“Good. Once the zombies storm the barracade, we make our escape by going across it. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Ok… now let’s wait for it…”
The zombies inched closer to the barricades. Police officer, SWAT officer and the last remaining civilians readied their guns and prepared to fire. Their stares at the shambling undead were a mixture of nervousness, coldness and overwhelming fear. Ensign Corgan sat down cross legged on the rooftop of the building, eagerly anticipating the events about to unfold.
“READY!” Screamed what looked like a police chief.
The echo of safeties being released and shotguns being pumped resounded in the air.
“AIM!” Hollered the police chief.
Everyone at the crude defense line leveled their guns. The zombies were only 10 meters away, groaning in an unholy manner.
“FIRE!!!!!!!!!” The police chief bellowed.
Hails of gunfire furiously hurled towards the zombies, cutting them down in lethal swaths. More of the undead horrors shuffled forth, screaming in agony and anticipation. The steadfast defenders fired shot after shot, cutting down more of the zombies and leaving piles of corpses on the streets. Brightspot looked away for a second, feeling sick from the carnage and horror down below.
“Are you ok over there?” Ensign Corgan asked.
“Yes… I’m fine. When do we start?” Brightspot asked.
“When they storm the blockade.” Ensign Corgan replied.
The zombies got even closer. They closed the gap to two meters. The helicopters pulled out without the rest of the officers, and a couple of the officers even panicked and tried to move to the SWAT vans. The rest of the cops and civilians fought on, trying in vain to increase the gap between them and the undead by firing more volleys of bullets in their direction. It was a futile struggle; for every zombie cut down more walked up to the barrier, with no end in sight. The rest of Main Street was swamped in the undead that shambled and shuffled along towards the last pocket of resistance.
“We have to move,” Ensign Corgan yelled over the loud gunfire, “to get to a safe area. It’s in the alley right beside the blockade, and the only way to get there is through the undead. Are you up for this?”
“Yes.” Brightspot answered.
“I have to warn you, even with holographic safeties, this is one intense program. Everything will be as close to real as we can get. Even the zombies will try to bite you. Now… GO!”
Ensign Corgan took the lead, running along the side of the building and leaping over the steep gap to land on the next. Brightspot followed, her feline agility making the jump easy. James whipped out a grappling hook from under his trenchcoat and secured it to the edge of the wall.
“This is our escape. Good luck! And aim for the head!” Ensign Corgan yelled.
James then slid down the rope and onto the ground, just meters behind the barricade that was dangerously close to the zombies. He pulled out two pistols from his holsters as Brightspot landed on one of the cop cars. The first of the zombies makes it to the blockade, catching an officer by surprise while he reloaded his shotgun. Then, a SWAT officer ran out of ammo in his MP5. Both men were shoved aside, the forward zombies being maimed by bullets while other zombies behind them attack the two men in an orgy of violence. More of the officers are overwhelmed and horrible bitten and attacked as more zombies flood in to overwhelm the frightened defenders.
It was then that Ensign Corgan and Lt. Brightspot made their moves. James leveled his two pistols and fired, turning a zombie’s head into mush after scoring 5 hits. Brightspot brought out her M16 and cut down three zombies into confetti.
“Let’s try to make it across!” Ensign Corgan screamed.
More holographic defenders were fighting and dying from the hordes of undead. The gunfire stared to become more sporadic, the amount of gunfire decreasing as the police retreated slowly. Brightspot and James ran forward, stopping to shoot down any zombies in the way. As Ensign Corgan shot down another zombie, he turned around to shoot another one charging slowly at him. He pulled the triggers on his two guns.
*CLICK* *CLICK*
Brightspot aimed carefully with the M16 and squeezed the trigger. The zombie was about to bite into Ensign Corgan’s neck until the bullets splattered its head.
“Thanks!” Ensign Corgan yelled.
James then brought out his shotgun and fired into the crowd of zombies, while running to the other side of the street. Brightspot followed suit, shooting any nearby zombie with the M16. The cops and civilians were still getting overrun and killed by the hordes of undead, but the worse of it was that some zombies spilled out from the other alleyways. The living defenders were being surrounded, and they were thrown in a panic. Some of the cops tried to escape, piling into the SWAT vans and starting the engines. One of the vans narrowly escaped, while the other was swarmed by a pack of zombies while the driver tried to start the ignition. He was thrown into the crowd of undead like a rag doll, then torn up and brutally dismembered. The remaining cops looked all around, being scared of the zombie hordes and firing at anything that came close. Eventually, James and Brightspot got separated from the cops, but they were near the alleyway that held their escape.
That same alleyway also held a half dozen zombies, with more coming from what remained of the barricade. With the remainder of the police officers being horribly massacred, it wouldn’t be long before they too were overwhelmed.
Ensign Corgan ran up to the zombies of the alleyway, with shotgun in hand, and pointed the barrel upward right in front of one of the undead. The squeeze of the trigger released a loud bang and a shower of gore all over the zombies. He then pumped round after round of buckshot at the zombies that barred them from safety, while Brightspot’s M16 sliced through the other zombies behind Ensign Corgan like a scythe. More zombies fell, but plenty more took their place. They were rapidly losing time.
“Hurry!” Brightspot yelled as he mauled a zombie with one powerful swipe of her large paw.
“I’m working on it!” He replied as he pumped his last shotgun shell into a zombie’s midsection. He dropped his shotgun and pulled out a knife as he faced one remaining zombie. The zombie lunged at him, baring his fangs and hissing noisily. James nimbly ducked under the zombie’s clawing arms, grabbing a fistful of hair and swing behind the undead monster. He then pulled tight on the hair and planted his booted foot onto the zombie’s back. It swiped and clawed fussily as Ensign Corgan put the large knife to the zombie’s throat. He then pulled on the hair as hard as he could while the knife hacked deep into the creature’s flesh, decapitating the monster. He threw the head aside.
“The party’s over. Let’s book!” Ensign Corgan said.
“If you are talking about our exit,” Brightspot said, “then let’s leave!”
The couple dashed into the alley, narrowly averting another group of zombies intent upon killing Brightspot. The narrow alley was dark and very long, but it was at least easily defended. Brightspot fired her rifle into the zombies that filtered into the narrow alleyway, mowing down more of the undead that still shambled on. The last gunshot from the blockade boomed in the air, and the only sounds left was Brightspot’s M16, the tearing of flesh in the distance and the groaning of thousands of zombies.
It was enough to make Lt. Jg. Brightspot sick.
“There’s a door a few meters ahead! That’s a safe spot!” Ensign Corgan hollered.
In the shadows, right behind a dumpster beside the safe area door, laid a corpse of a dead civilian. It’s eyes started shifting as Ensign Corgan came closer.
“I’ll open the door, and I can save the game.” James said.
“The zombie stared to rise slowly, still not grabbing the attention of Ensign Corgan as he talked to Brightspot.
“WATCH OUT!” Brightspot screamed.
“What the…” Ensign Corgan spoke, turning around to face a zombie that was right in front of him! The zombie went down to bite, quicker than James could bring up his knife.
*BEEP BEEP* The computer chirped. The program went on automatic pause. The zombie was a mere centimeter away from Ensign Corgan’s neck.
“Whoa. That… was freaky.” Ensign Corgan stammered.
“What’s with the computer alarm? Is our time up?” Brightspot enquired.
“Yes. It is. It’s only a couple of hours until Gamma shift, and I should be getting to sleep soon if I’m going to Alpha shift. I have to protect the Prophetess and all that jazz, so…”
“I know. Sleep is important. I hope we can do this again, because even though I’ve never been more scared in a holodeck program, I did enjoy it a little bit.”
“Good. I’m glad you like it. It’s on the holodeck files, so I’ve released it for public use. I also have a friend back on Earth who made the program. I’m one of her beta testers.”
“Interesting.”
“I know. Let me know more about what you think of it later. I could use the criticism the next time I talk to Ensign Jordan.”
“Ok. I’ll let you know. Thank you for inviting me, but I guess we’ll have to be moving on.”
“That’s for sure. See you later.”
“Good bye! Computer, arch.”
An arch appears out of thin air, forming around the alleyway. The doors swish open as Lt. Jg. Brightspot walks out.
“Computer,” Ensign Corgan commanded, “save game at the nearest save point and end program.”
“Acknowledged.” The computer responded, shimmering away the ruined city to reveal the back and yellow grid design of the holodeck. Ensign Corgan’s combat knife shimmers away, leaving him with just his “BADASS” clothing. He walks out, tired from the strenuous activity.
***
(OOC: The following takes place before "To Sleep or Not to Sleep")
After all Michala had told her, Shinta decided to have a little talk with ensign Drake herself, so she sought him out in his quarters the next day.
"Hi, my name is Shinta, I`m a friend of Michala`s mind if I come in for a minute?" Shinta asked.
"Yeah, sure," he said. He motioned her inside and led the way back into the living area of his cabin. "How can I help you, Shinta?"
"Oh boy, this is hard to do and I feel like a total idiot and I hope you won't think that I`m an interfering nuisance, it`s just that Michala is my best friend and I know that she is seeing you right now, I just want to ask you to take things slowly. I`m not saying that I don`t want you to see her." She stammered, her face red, "This is all coming out wrong, I`m sorry, I shouldn`t have come." She turned to the door to hurrily exit.
John moved to cut off Shinta before she could leave. "Wait," he said, barring the door. "It's okay. And, I don't think you're an interfering nuisance. Michala and I are friends. And, I know I feel something for her, but I don't know what her feelings are for me. We're taking it slowly, wherever it is we're headed. I know what she's been through, and I'm trying to be a friend."
"that is a relief,, both that you are not shoving me out, and that you will take it slowly with her. She is a great person, you know." She smiled. "But from what I have seen so far, you are not so bad yourself. You have not been on board long, have you?"
John could feel his cheeks going red. "Thank you," he said. "And, I just came aboard before we went through the wormhole. Transferred over from DS9. I like it so far."
"I hope you will feel at home here." Shinta said, "and that we can be friends. What department are you in?"
"I'm in operations," he said. "And, I hope so too. And, I've heard that congratulations are in order."
She smiled. "Yes, twins, I am a very busy mother right now. Say why don't Mike and you come over for a drink one of these nights. Then we can all get to know each other a little better." Shinta suggested.
"That would be very nice," John said. "I'll talk to Michala and we'll let you know."
"That sounds fine." Shinta said. "Right now I had better get back to my twins, before they begin to yell for food. And look forward to seeing you again, John."
John grinned. "I look forward to it too," he said. He watched her leave from the door. As he stepped back into his quarters, he chuckled softly to himself.
***
John Drake shifted in his seat again. The chair was comfortable. The bridge was comfortable. Everything around him was comfortable. For some reason though, he wasn't. Maybe it was the automated operations systems doing all the work for him. Or that, in the heart of delta shift, none of the away teams were off-ship; he couldn't even monitor the status of his shipmates on the planet.
John ran an efficiency check over the management systems. Everything checked out. Everything was normal. Everything was as it should be. And, he had nothing really to do. He glanced at the helm station and smiled to himself. At least I'm not the only one, he thought.
John sighed.
He opened one of the management windows and ran a usage report on secondary systems. It was always fun to look at what systems were in use at 03h00. Replicator use was up from the previous night. And, holodeck 1 had been seeing a lot of activity since the beginning of his shift. Ten Forward power allocation was down. Not many people enjoying themselves in the lounge, he determined.
John sighed again. Connect the dots didn't seem quite as fun tonight. He wondered if it was his concerns over Michala. Her departure had been very hasty, especially when he told her he loved her. Maybe they were going too fast after all. Maybe he should slow things down more.
Orbiting a planet was always boring. Perhaps he was feeling so bored because he was orbiting Bajor and hadn't even visited. He could have gone earlier. He had the time. But, he decided to go climbing again. Hanging off a cliff face at twenty thousand feet was always fun. And, in the holodeck it was always nicer because it could be programmed with as much oxygen as it needed. Today, he needed the oxygen. He just wanted to hang there in a harness and stare out into the horizon. He needed some good thinking time. Though, he didn't get much thinking done in his thinking time. Not the kind of thinking he would have liked. It was hard to focus. Hard to get his mind to quiet long enough to think.
And, now that he sat on the bridge, bored out of his mind with the drudgery of delta shift nothingness, his mind wanted to think about everything and anything. All at once. The internal din was deafening. He took a deep breath.
John sighed. Maybe he should see about moving to a more active shift. It would keep him from dying of boredom, and possibly give him a more compatible schedule with Michala...if she still wanted to spend any time with him.
John sighed.
Commander Thomas entered his office seeking to escape. Escape from what you ask, his fears, his desires, and his concerns. Wearing the face of a Delician had brought many memories back. He was finding himself fighting to keep his own identity. When he went undercover his conditioning allowed him slip into any given role. Now he was fighting that conditioning.
He was the first officer of the Galaxy! he told himself.
He was losing himself to the role of a Delician. 'Focus, Chris, focus' he thought to himself, 'You're Commander Chris Thomas, first officer of the USS Galaxy.'
Minutes passed before he could find his feet and stand. This wasn't a good sign. He'd never felt this kind of loss before, and it wasn't something he could just ignore. He would have to do some meditation tonight after work.
How could he command if he couldn't think of who he was.
Chris gave some thought about that statement and began realize that he was in command. The only way he wasn't in command is if he let his own basic instincts take over his life.
Chris decided to stop by and see his wife before going on duty. In hopes of fortifying his mental strength and his love. He needed the positive effects she brought him.
Of course there were those days when she was just off in her own little world, like many people would experience in their lifetime.
In any case he still wanted to see her.
Though at times it seemed to him, he needed her more then she needed him.
Maybe he should just skip the trip to see her. He did have plenty of things to do and maybe it would be better if he just stayed away.
Oh well.
** Commander Thomas's quarters **
Chris arrived at his quarters, only to find them empty. She was suppose to be home, but she wasn't and this worried him. He knew that some people had gone to the planet Bajor to relax, while others were on duty.
He searched the quarters, finding no trace of her. Her clothes and belongings were still there of course, but she wasn't in the room. This was odd, for this day. He began to wonder just what she was doing when he wasn't home.
"Computer locate Anna Thomas." Chris said tapping his combadge.
"Anna Thomas transported down to Bajor 3 hours ago."
"Why would she do that." Chris said to himself.
"Unknown."
"I wasn't asking you." he said.
This was odd, and did concern him. Maybe she just needed a break like the rest of the crew did or at least wanted to see Bajor. Unfortunately he couldn't go down and join her at the moment, as he was due on the bridge momentarily.
"Chris to Anna Thomas, please respond."
There was no response.
"Computer can you find Anna Thomas's signal or such on Bajor?" Chris asked.
"Scanning."
Chris waited patiently.
While he waited for the computer to show him where she was, he decided to clean up and clean up the rooms while he was there.
***
Commander Thomas stepped onto the bridge after finishing up in his quarters.
*** Outside the Federation Embassy, Bajor ***
The Prophetess was weary from the day's treaty talks. It was surprising to her that a room full of people, who all want to see the treaty ratified, could manage to find obstacles and points to debate. Tarie walked alongside the repulsor chair. They didn't speak. Madame Kiye wondered if Tarie was second-guessing her future as Prophetess now that she was face-to-face with the diplomatic challenge that would be her legacy from her predecessor. Well, the Inherant Mother was ordained already. It was too late to find another and begin the extensive preparations.
Their tired silence was quickly broken as the security detail from the Galaxy took up positions around them. A strange assortment they were, too. They had been watching the entire time, from a distance for the most part. But, with the team preparing to return to the starship in orbit, the core members assembled around the Prophetess.
Certainly a skilled and logical commander like Savat had other contingencies, but the matriarch never asked him about the arrangements. It ill-suited her position to concern herself with the running of her escort.
She smiled at the security officers that appeared. The fiery-tempered one named Heather Sanchez returned the smile. Madame Kiye thought it was because Sanchez sensed their characteristic similarities. She thought that Heather, had she been Decilian, would have made a fine Priestess. Her knack for leadership and her apparent determination would have placed her in a position of some authority on one of the Confederate septet of worlds. Heather gave the Prophetess a confident greeting nod.
The elderly woman glanced around for James Corgan. That man seemed very conflicted. He was walking behind her chair. "Ensign James Lionel Corgan," she said in the manner she had of using entire names. "I hope your day went smoothly."
The young man's answer was characteristically short, though polite. She decided that she would make it a point to try to speak to him again when they were in a more private setting. But, he did appear more at ease than he had in the morning.
They were soon assembled in the designated beaming area. An alcove with a perfectly level deck, surrounded for one hundred-eight degrees by a high wall decorated with a mosaic created by local artisans. The mural depicted Federation and Bajoran shared ideals. The Prophetess regarded the tile creation while she waited with the others. *Idealism* she thought. *This is all about idealism to these people...*
*** The USS Galaxy ***
"Lieutenant Zonhieb will escort you and Lady Tarie to your quarters, Prophetess," explained the chief of security.
She thanked him, "Your courtesy is appreciated, lieutenant commander Savat. I will see you shortly at dinner." She turned her attention to the Gorn. "Lieutenant Seth Zonhieb, how did you find the gardens of the embassy on Bajor?"
He watched her with one eye as they headed into the corridors of the Galaxy. "I found it tame, highness," he answered briefly.
Tarie laughed slightly at the Gorn's comments, though he clearly was not joking. She was too tired from a day of acting 'politically correct' to hold in the friendly chuckle.
Soon they neared her rooms. "Thank you lieutenant," the Prophetess said pleasantly. "If you would ever like to share something of your kind's beliefs, I'd be fascinated to hear it."
The reptiloid showed his fangs subconsciously. "Such revalations may not be healthy for such a frail creature as you, Prophetess," he warned ominously.
She pursed her lips and nodded sagely, "Yes, of course. Please take word to your Executive Officer that I'd like to speak with him, would you? Thank you again."
Armed with his message for commander Thomas, the Gorn stalked off quietly.
The two women passed a few words, but neither had the energy to rehash the day's developments. They split up and Madame Kiye, Keeper of the Word, entered her chambers to change for the dinner arranged by captain Price. She hoped she remembered to pack her nice rings that matched her pendant...
**Chief Tactical Officers Office, Tac Opps**
Lt. Richeson shuffled through a small stack of PADDs. He was starting to wish he hadn't made Rebecca the new assistant. She did more paper work before then. He had to say though, her confidence had picked up since getting promoted....Slightly.
Tim stood up and removed his uniform jacket. It always seemed to hot for him, and it wasn't uncommon for him to take it off while he wasn't on the bridge. He tugged on the crimson tunic and sat back down behind his cluttered desk. A message from Commander Savat was on the top of his stack.
####################
TO: Lt. Timothy Richeson CTO
FROM: Lt.Cmd Savat CSO
Lieutenant, it has come to my attention that Tactical officers will now be armed while on duty. As I am sure you know, your department become up-to-date with their training to be authorized to carry a side arm. Please contact me to schedule training sessions for your department.
#####################
Tim starred at the text of the message for a few extra seconds. "Damn you Peter." he cursed. "Now we all have to put in extra hours..." He didn't mind wearing the weapon, but he hadn't even fired a phaser since Hog Lips tried to take over the ship a year ago. Oh well, maybe it was time to take a trip to the shooting range. Hell the ship was in orbit, nothing else for a Chief Tac. to do.
=/\= Lt. Richeson, your duty shift starts in 15 minutes. =/\= the computers cold voice stated. Ever since Tim was a Ensign, he had always hated that damn voice.
"Well maybe there is something ells for me to do.." he mumbled. It was his turn to take a command watch. Most officers leaped at the chance to take a bridge shift, Tim on the other hand winced at the idea. He always got stuck with Delta shift, meaning he had to pull a double shift. Hopefully the General wasn't back on the ship yet, and he could have Lt. Zardies take the Alpha watch.
Richeson stood up and reached for his duty jacket. He started to put it on then rolled his eyes. "Aww to hell with it." He tossed it over his shoulder smoothly and left for the bridge.
Captain Price beamed back up to the Galaxy, finding himself in the Transporter room.
"Welcome back Captain." Chief Jensen called out with a smile.
The General gave a nod as he stepped off the transporter pad. He was barefoot at the time, and began putting his sneakers on as he replied. "Thanks 'mate. Looks like I got the pad a bit sandy and wet. Sorry about that."
"Forget about it." Jensen said with a wave of his hand. "It will take a lot more then a little water to short the transporter out sir. One time I had a party return to the Galaxy after walking through a field of manure. Now *that* was something to apologize about. A bit of sand and water; that's nothing!"
Lee smiled. The transporter chief had a point all right. "Well I can see where this wouldn't be that big of a deal then 'mate. Carry on." the Captain stared as he exited the transporter room and headed for his quarters to change back into his uniform.
At his quarters, the Captain quickly undressed and took a sonic shower to take care of the sand and salt water that had misted his body while on Bajor. He then put on his dress uniform since the Prophetess would be returning from Bajor shortly and he'd promised to host a feast in her honor. He also wanted to look good and show Madame Kiye that he too would wear the same dress white uniforms that his officers wore in her honor. Adjusting his uniform, Lee gave a nod and then headed out of his quarters.
This Archeologist, Professor Ganod, was likely on board the Galaxy now and waiting to see the Captain. Lee wasn't sure exactly what it was this person wanted with him, or the Galaxy, but he had understood it to be an urgent matter.
Entering the turbolift, Captain Price activated his comm badge. "Price to Commander Thomas. Come in 'mate."
Chris' voice responded a few moments later. ["Thomas here Captain."]
"Where is the Professor now Commander?" Lee asked waiting in the turbolift to give the order where to go next.
["I believe Doctor Munroe is entertaining Professor Ganod in science lab two sir."] Commander Thomas informed.
"Fair dinkum 'mate. I'm headed there now. Price out." The Captain closed. He then looked at the control panel of the turbolift and ordered, "Science lab two."
The lift immediately began moving. A few seconds later it stopped and the doors opened. Captain Price strolled out, heading down the corridor towards the science lab. A short time later he had arrived, entering straight away.
Doctor Munroe turned around upon hearing someone enter. She saw the Captain and gave a relieved smile that he didn't quite understand. A few meters away was a gentleman with his back to the entrance, whom appeared interested in one of the many science projects underway in the busy laboratory. Captain Price' eyes scanned the gentleman before returning to the lovely Doctor and smiling. "G'day 'mate. I got here as soon as I could."
"It is good to see you Captain. I've been showing Professor Ganod around the lab while we waited." Munroe stated, turning towards the person whom was obviously the Professor that had come on board in such mysterious fashion.
"Well, why don't you introduce me 'mate, and we can find out what he wants with the Galaxy?"
"Of course sir." the Doctor stated. Walking over to where the Professor was stooped over, watching the phosphorus liquid bubble under the infuser tubes in the lab.
"Such simple beauty in stimulating the most basic of chemicals..." Professor Ganod commented to himself. "Alone it is a plain, colorless, lifeless liquid. But apply a current through it's mass and suddenly a world of color and reactions take place, blossoming into such a spectacular display of color and effervescence."
"Professor Ganod. Captain Price will see you now sir." Doctor Munroe announced.
Straightening, the Professor turned around. He stood tall and perfectly postured. His hands were clasp behind his back confidently as he revealed his Cardassian heritage to a surprised Captain Price. "Ah, Captain Robert Edward Lee Price. It is a privilege to finally get this opportunity to meet you in person. You don't know how I have so looked forward to getting a chance to know you Captain."
Getting over his initial shock, which the Captain was able to conceal diplomatically, Lee smiled and offered his hand in friendship. "G'day Professor. I am afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage 'mate. Other than knowing that you are a leading Archeologist, I'm afraid I know little else about you."
Ganod regarded the Starfleet Captain and the dress white uniform he was wearing with a hint of aloofness. After a slight pause the Archeologist announced, "You have no idea the amount of danger you are in right now Captain."
Furrowing his brow slightly, the Captain asked, "Excuse me 'mate? What are you talking about?"
"I see I got here just in the nick of time." Ganod stated in a rather resolved tone.
"In danger from what Professor? I don't understand what you are talking about 'mate." the Captain returned. Lee didn't like surprises, especially from unannounced guests that happened to be Cardassian. Especially when the ship was on an important assignment.
"This is not the proper place to discuss these matters Captain. It is difficult to tell who can be trusted right now. If in fact anyone on your crew can be at this point."
The Captain was down right annoyed now with the Professor's vague innuendoes and evasive comments. "If it's privacy you need Professor, that can be arranged. Come we can go to my office where we can speak undisturbed. But I will want to have some answers when we get there 'mate. No more of this beating around the bush. Oui?"
Ganod gave a thin lipped smile. "A man of directness. Oh how I admire that trait Captain Price. But of course you will have the answers once it is safe to talk."
"Fair dinkum Professor. If you'll accompany me, we can head to my office. " Lee stated, motioning a hand towards the exit. Looking at Doctor Munroe, the Captain added, "Thank you for entertaining the Professor until I could arrive Doctor."
"Yes, thank you for your time Doctor. I found it quite,... pleasant." Professor Ganod commented walking past towards the corridor.
"No problem Captain." Munroe replied as she watched Captain Price and the Professor exit the lab. When they had left, she felt relieved that the creepy Archeologist was gone. She had studied a lot of the papers Professor Ganod had written on the Archeological arts, but some how meeting the Cardassian Professor in person had left her spine tingling. For whatever reason, Ganod had given her the creeps, and she was glad he was now gone from the science lab.
****
*** Elsewhere, on the bridge ***
"Sir. I am reading a power overload on holodeck three." Lieutenant Uhura stated from the Operations station.
Commander Thomas, who still was surgically altered to resemble a Decilian, looked over at the dark skinned Ops officer. "What does it look like Lieutenant?"
"Hard to say sir. I'd hypothesize an overloaded control panel. Though I've never seen a holodeck malfunction like this or blow out so suddenly..." Mohammed reported.
"Better have Engineering send someone down to have a look at it. No sense taking any chances. Also see to it that all scheduled holodeck time to theater three is canceled until Engineering has a chance to diagnose and repair the problem. You know how the Captain is about Starfleet holodeck safety protocols." Chris reminded.
"Yes sir. Canceling all scheduled holodeck time in that theater. Engineering has been notified Commander." Uhura stated while sending the appropriate commands to the Galaxy's computer system.
***
*** just outside of Holodeck three ***
Kareel Raen, Kimi Okuda, and Heather Sanchez were all dressed in their beach wear, carrying an assortment of towels, homemade picnic supplies, and sun tanning solutions as they headed to unwind by spending some time in the holodeck during their pre-arranged scheduled timeslot.
"And then to be in orbit around Bajor and be looking forward to visiting the real Bacho beach and soaking up some sunshine in real gravity. I was so pissed off when Savat told me I'd be assigned to the away team." Heather fumed. It was good for her to be able to talk to some friends about her frustrations with the job. In her years of service on board the Galaxy, Heather had found it difficult to make friends she could relate to. It was nice to be able to vent somewhere other then on the heavy bag in the ship's gym.
"Well, it's not the real Bacho beach mind you; but this simulation is the next best thing." Kareel laughed. "And if you really want to unwind, you can always take the program to level two."
Both Kimi and the spotted Trill, Kareel, began giggling like school girls keeping a secret from a close friend. It made Heather uneasy and defensive - exactly their intent.
"What are you two chuckling about? What happens on level two?!" Sanchez asked defensively. She really didn't mean to raise her voice so forcefully. It was just a habit the Security Lieutenant had formed all these years working in a male dominated department like security.
"You'll just have to experiment and find out." Kimi smiled. "Do you prefer brunette or blonde hunks?" she chuckled.
Realizing what "level two" of this Bacho beach program was likely to contain, Heather blushed and declared, "You two are awful!"
At the end of the corridor was the entrance to holodeck three.
The door was closed, but the activity light was out, indicating the theater was off-line and presumably waiting for the next scheduled users to enter.
"I'm just looking forward to catching some rays and working on my tan. It was all I could think about all day while on Bajor listening to the diplomatic mumbo-jumbo at the Embassy while guarding her royal highness the Prophetess of Decilia VII." Heather admitted.
When the three beautiful ladies reached the pressure doors of holodeck three, Kareel activated the control to open the doors so the three bikini clad women could enter with their beach ensemble.
Inside was the black and yellow grid pattern they were used to. Sitting in the middle of the holodeck floor was Lieutenant Commander Michael Jamson, kneeling with a bat'leth across his lap.
"We're sorry, but I think you are running into our time..." Kareel started to say.
At the control panel, Kimi could see the slashed console that was burnt and shorted. The smell of freshly fried isolinear chips was still lingering about the dim display interface. "It's broken..." Okuda said in disbelief looking at the 'Commander sitting at the center of the deck. "He broke it. There won't be any Bacho beach program now."
Taking it all in, the green bikini'd Lieutenant Heather Sanchez' eyes narrowed into a vicious scowl as she let out a huff and began marching towards the person responsible for rendering the holodeck theater useless to the rest of the crew.
"What's the big idea destroying the holodeck controls you dweeb? Don't you know how to control that bat'leth better then that? How the hell did you even strike the controls in the first place? The safety protocols shouldn't have allowed that to happen."
Jamson just sat there like he was meditating. He didn't move nor respond to the stunning bikini clad beauty that was giving him a piece of her mind.
"What is wrong with you?" Heather asked rather pointedly. "Hey, moron, I'm talking to you..." When Jamson didn't respond, Heather put her hands on her trim hips and was really beginning to get pissed off. "He's in some sort of trance or something." She stated looking at the other two.
"Well this thing is hosed. That's for sure." Kareel stated.
"We should call security and have the 'Commander looked after. Or maybe medical." Kimi commented.
"I *am* security." Heather stated angrily Putting down her suntan oil and towel, she stepped in front of Jameson and demanded, "Get up."
When Jamson didn't respond, or even blink, she stated louder, "Get up Commander, you are under arrest."
Still Jamson sat there with the bat'leth laying across his lap.
Finally, Sanchez had had enough. Reaching down, she grabbed for the Klingon sword.
When the scantily clad security officer touched the blade, Michael flew into an uncontrollable rage. Letting out a feral growl, he wrenched the bat'leth from Heather's grasp and spun the weapon around, trying to cut her in half at the torso.
Sanchez was too quick however and was able to leap back just out of the blades arch. The razor sharp edge of the weapon made a whipping sound as it sliced through the air with such elegant force.
"Are you crazy?!" Kareel shouted.
Kimi wasn't going to take any chances. Activating her communicator she notified security to send a full team to holodeck three.
Jamson jumped to his feet and advanced on the unarmed, bikini clad Lieutenant Sanchez. There was such furry in his eyes, such uncontrollable rage, that Michael looked like a Klingon warrior filled with blood lust. When he advanced, he danced the bat'leth around, taking slices at Heather's unprotected body. Only her athletic agility and cat like reflexes allowed her to avoid the savage edge of the weapon as she continued to back away. But she was rapidly running out of holodeck upon which to retreat.
Finally making her move, Sanchez performed a bare handed block, and deflected the downward slash of the Commander, closing the distance and striking him in the jaw with a solid right palm strike.
Jamson tasted the blood of his cracked lip and seemed pleased at the taste, smiling evilly. Unphased, he swung the bat'leth around and using both hands, trapped the dull edge against Heather's throat. Pulling savagely with his forearms, he began to choke Sanchez who found herself pinned between the Klingon sword and Jameson's body. Heather could feel her throat being crushed under the Commander's powerful grip. Her air supply was being cut off. She couldn't breath, couldn't scream. Struggling, she was unable to break the warrior's grip of the weapon. Desperately, knowing she only had a few seconds before all consciousness would be lost, Heather managed to spin around to face her attacker.
Jamson appeared to be possessed. His eyes were like a wild animal's. They reminded her of a shark's eyes the way they looked at her without feeling or regard for the life in which they were about to take.
Falling to her knees, Heather used the last ounce of strength she had remaining and grabbed the bat'leth from the sharp side, holding it with her naked palms, struggling to gain control of the weapon before the Commander choked her to death. Struggling to get leverage as her hands were cut by the razor's edge of the blade, Heather managed to push the blade upward, over her head in a life saving military press. Her hands bleeding, her arms shaking at the strain of resisting Jameson's forced vengeance, Heather glanced from her kneeling position at the target that presented itself before her. Opening wide, she bit down... HARD.
CRUNCH!!!
Jamson's grip on the blade grew limp... FAST. The rage that filled his eyes just a moment before when he was about to murder the Lieutenant had been replaced with pain. A whimper crossed his lips, as the bat'leth fell behind him. Michael barely felt the series of left and right handed upper cuts Sanchez threw to his torso, literally using him as her heavy bag for this evening. All Michael could feel was the coursing pain that radiated from his groin where Sanchez had adapted, improvised and over come.
When Jamson's head hit the deck grating, he was out cold from the pain and pounding he'd just received at the hands of a bikini clad, bad ass security chick.
Heather's hands were cut and bleeding. Her chest heaved while she tried to catch her breath from the two minutes of ass kicking she'd just dealt out to Lieutenant Commander psycho. Her body was once again covered in a thin film of sweat. Glancing over at her companions, both Kimi and Kareel looked at each other and then back at Heather before smiling. Kimi declared, "You go girl!" to cheer Heather on after her fight with life and death.
Kareel was a bit more cool about the whole thing. Probably due to her experience as a joined Trill. Walking over she picked up the bat'leth, and looked at the unconscious Lieutenant Commander Michael Jamson, and then at Heather.
"You know, after seeing you do all of that, you might be ready for level three if they get this thing working again..."
Both Kimi and Kareel began to laugh in unison.
Finally a security detachment showed up on the holodeck. Surprised to see Lieutenant Heather Sanchez, and wearing a bikini no less, they weren't about to question her orders to have Lieutenant Commander Michael Jamson taken to the brig.
"You should get your hands looked at Lieutenant..." Ensign Smith stated. His eyes couldn't help but admire Heather's shapely form.
Sanchez gave the Ensign a stern look in return. "I will Ensign. That will be all. Dismissed."
Blushing slightly, the Ensign turned and helped escort Jamson's limp body to the brig with the others.
***
Michala was nervous. She had just left John after he had told her that he loved her. She couldn't even now explain her actions. It had suddenly seemed much more important to see the prophetess. Maybe the prophetess had been right, maybe she was focusing on the wrong things. She took a deep breath. She knew he should be in his quarters. She rang the chime but got no response. A couple of times more and she sighed. It was late and he should be up with his shift in just a few hours?
John left the turbolift and headed toward his quarters. He took a long swallow of water from the bottle he'd replicated. He could feel it all the way down, cooling. He turned the corner and his heart leapt at the sight before him. Michala was in front of his door. She sighed and started to turn away. He hurried forward to meet her.
"Leaving so soon," he said, trying to sound more cheerful than his nerves should have aloud him. He knew he sounded concerned. He didn't want to. He wanted to sound casual and carefree. But, his own feelings were going to betray him.
"John!" Her voice held relief. "I - I stopped by to talk." She had no idea her words had the age old sound of one about to leave. Michala had to practice of her own in artifice.
John nodded. "Sure," he said. He tried to search her face and eyes for a sign of what might be going on inside. "Did you want to come inside?"
She smiled. "Well, I really would rather not talk in the hall?" Her voice was lightly teasing and her eyes sparkled with amusement at the thought. As the door opened she had to tease him. "You know, I don't think I have ever seen you in pants other then in uniform." This was not quite true but close.
John laughed. "Well, I will have to model a few more for you then," he said.
Once they were inside, he turned to watch her. His heart was pounding. He took a deep breath to settle himself and set the water bottle on the table. "So, what's on your mind?"
"Well first, this." She moved and kissed him gently on the lips. She could tell he was concerned and she did not wish him to worry. When at last the kiss broke, she looked up, her eyes very large. "I am sorry I rushed out this morning."
"It's okay," he said with a smile. "I was a little worried, but I figured you had a good reason. Okay, I was a lot worried. But, I figured there were reasons. Are you okay?"
"I am. I had planned to come right back. But Shinta showed up and she was so worried about going back to Bajor, she wanted me to go with her. She is my best friend and I couldn't say know." She explained. "I - I don't know why I left so suddenly. I really can't explain it."
"You're going through a lot," John said. "If I were in your position, I imagine I might have done the same. It's a daunting thing. Especially for a toddler." He gave her a smile. "How are you feeling now?"
"Better.. well not totally. I feel bad and I.. I didn't know what to say?" She admitted. "I mean, I know I feel something strong but I thought I loved Deiran and it didn't feel anything like this?"
John nodded. "Don't worry about saying anything," he said. "And, don't worry about running out earlier. With everything, I probably shouldn't have said anything. At least, not yet."
"I am not sorry you said anything. I mean, if it is true I am not?" She looked at him, doubt in her eyes. She now doubted a lot of things and her own judgement included. She sighed, she needed to go read some more. Only when reading did she find the peace her heart was seeking. NO, that was not quite true, she found it here as well.
John took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't think anything could be as true," he said. "And, I'm not sorry I said it. Not sorry about anything that's happened between us. I just don't want things to go too far too fast. I don't want to confuse you with a bunch of emotions that might disorient you in a very emotionally trying time." He held her eyes in his and swallowed. "But, I cannot deny that I love you."
Her smile widened. "I am glad." She pulled him down on the couch. "I am unsure of many things right now, but the one thing I am not unsure of is us. I just.. just don't know how to reconcile my feelings. I guess with Deiran, I was...so naive and I didn't know what love was. But now, it seems so pale in comparison to what happened between us last night. I guess that was why I ran, I didn't know what to do with all that. But the sermon this morning helped me a great deal."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said. "I think that help, in whatever form it takes, is a wonderful thing. I think this mission and the Prophetess came along at the perfect time for you. You have a beautiful smile, and you have been smiling a lot recently. I think I will have to thank the Prophetess for what she has given you."
A peaceful expression crossed Michala's face at the mention of the prophetess. "It was fortuitous." She admitted. "But then, so were you."
John smiled and took her hand in his. "I don't think I've ever had anything quite so amazing happen in my life than meeting you. I knew I had a friend immediately. And, that friendship just kept growing. And, now here we are. I have never felt this way before."
"Yes, here we are." The only problem was, Michala couldn't define that.
John smiled. "I still have some time before I'm needed on the bridge. Did you want to find something to do?"
Michala grinned, she could think of one thing to do right off the top of her head. "I am not much into the holodeck mood." She admitted.
John caught the grin and returned it. "So, what kind of mood are you in?"
"A stay here and hold me mood?" She said with a teasing smile.
John shifted and pulled Michala into his arms. "I like that kind of mood," he said softly. "And, I was hoping you'd be in one."
"Are we okay? I mean after I just left and all?" She asked a little insecure.
John thought about her question for a moment. "I think so," he said. "At least, I know I am. I understand what you're going through. At least, I think I do. I think we're okay."
"I- the prophetess said something today and.. can I talk to you about it?" She was hesitant but the words were haunting her.
He nodded. "Of course."
She said that she thought that men like Deiran would just move on. That I was expendable if I didn't do things the way he wanted?" That hadn't been quite how she had put it, but it was close. "Do you think that is true.. that if I ... he would just move on? I mean I know you don't know him.. but you have met other Captains?"
It wasn't an easy question. "I'm not certain," he said hesitantly. "I can see a man like that reacting in one of two ways. If he doesn't get what he wants, he just moves on to someone who will give him what he wants. The other possibility is that if he sees you as more of a possession, as something he deserves and should have by rights, he could expend any amount of resources to get you back, whether you wanted to or not or no matter what happened to him in the process." He watched her for a moment. "I don't really know which one he is, though he sounds a lot like the second one."
She sighed and buried her face against his chest. "Either way I lose," He heard her murmur. She tightened her hold, taking comfort from his presence and warmth.
John closed his eyes and just held Michala to him. It was a truly painful situation, and so little of it had anything to do with Michala. It was like a game of chess and she was just a piece on the board. And, Deiran Casey was probably just playing out some gambit. What it was, he had no idea. Perhaps she was a pawn intent on being made into a queen or knight. Or, perhaps she was a piece whose purpose would be a sacrifice for another play. In any case, she was being used by Deiran Casey and her needs and feelings did not matter. At least not to Captain Casey.
"Make love to me... " she whispered, burying her face against his neck, raining small kisses up his throat and ears.
John smiled. "It will be...your pleasure," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He let his hands caress her body as he moved them to a more comfortable position on the couch.
Michala took comfort in his touch and his kiss. The prophetess was right, this was not wrong and she refused to turn her back on it.
John took the hem of Michala's shirt and lifted it over her head. He kissed along her shoulder to her throat and down to her chest. He lifted his eyes to hers. "Here or the bed?"
"Here!" she urgently whispered. She was going to start living for the moment. And right now, she wanted this moment more then anything.
He nodded and smiled as he kissed her deeply. He deftly removed her bra and let his hands caress the sensitive flesh of her breasts. Their hands moved fluidly, touching and feeling each other. Clothing disappeared to the floor as the minutes passed.
When the last piece of clothing dropped to the floor, John pulled Michala to him. The touch of her body against his was intoxicating. His mind swam as her lips brushed against his skin. He could feel her tremble beneath his fingers and knew she must feel the same from him. He knew they were ready without looking into her eyes. The need was a tangible thing, pulling him to her. As he entered her this time, it was almost overpowering. He would never have imagined loving a woman could be such a powerful experience.
Michala had thought that it could not get better then the night before. But here it was more intense then before. She knew then that her choice was made. This was where she belonged regardless of what came after. She surrendered herself to his touch, his kiss, his passion and most importantly... his love.
*** CMO's Quarters, Delta shift, 0530 ***
Jeral woke out of a sound sleep to an auditory alarm. "Warning, Repusor Chair Kiye-1 detects fluxuating life signs. Please be informed of a possible medical emergency." Even though programmers had given the computer a pleasant female voice, some of its more esoteric warnings still gave the doctor the chills. (Four lifetimes of warnings and surprises have that effect sometimes.)
Orienting himself after his sudden waking, the joined Trill contacted the dignitary personally. "Doctor Maas to Madam Kiye, your chair has sent out a warning you may need medical attention. Are you experiencing any difficulties?"
"Thank you for your concern, Commander", she said as if giving a benediction. She was obviously tired from the groggy after tone her voice carried. A few seconds later, the Prophetess of the Word replied, "I have a tingling sensation in my lower legs, and some loss of feeling in my right side."
The doctor switched to 'diagnosis' mode. "It is possible you suffered a minor stroke. At your age, such occurrences are not unusual. I would like to give you a brief checkup, to make sure there are no other health problems."
"I am sure you know more about medical matters than I, Doctor. However, I am concerned a stay in your healing facility will delay negotiations on Bajor.", the Prophetess said with a tinge of her peppery voice.
"Modern healing techniques can have you healthy again in time for the morning resumption of talks. And by the way, I would like to look into Delician scriptures. As a joined species, I appreciate diversity in all its forms."
"That is commendable, Doctor. I rose shortly before your call to reflect on passages of the Word, as is my normal practice. My chair is still in operating condition, so I should be able to get to Sickbay on my own initiative."
"If you encounter problems on the journey to Sickbay, the duty transporter operator can beam you there almost instantly," Jeral said helpfully.
"Then that is what I prefer", she said with some humor. "So that I may resume contemplating the Word as soon as possible."
"Very well. I have made necessary arrangement to have you and your chair beamed to Sickbay. The transporter should be energizing in a few seconds." Jeral said already in motion for Sickbay. Since rank does indeed have its privileges, Doctor Maas's quarters had been moved to deck 12, so he could reach Sickbay swiftly in an emergency.
In fact, Jeral was at the outer door when Madame Kiye materialized.
*** Sickbay ***
Dealing with sick dignitaries is always a delicate job, usually falling to the CMO. In this case, the elderly prophetess was showing signs of ill health due to her age.
A cranial monitor showed she had indeed suffered a minor stroke. Some nerve fibers were out of alignment, or had swollen from stress. Maas did what he could to put things back in there normal configuration, but he didn't have a lot of information about the prophetess's anatomy. The brain tissue was soon knitted without any indications of problems.
Jeral injected her with a medicine that would numb the pain without any loss of lucidity, relying on the similarities between Delcians and Cardassians. Weary that another problem of this sort could reoccur, the Doctor took additional precautions.
"Prophetess, I would like you to wear a cortical monitor so we can detect if you have further medical problems. I have replicated one that looks like a Bajoran ear ring from the Recantha provence. If people notice it, you may simply explain you are wearing it to honor your hosts."
Madame Kiye dismissed the thought she could get out of here without the device. This Doctor was obviously a professional, and seemed very though when it came to the health of his 'flock'.
"Also, if you feel additional discomfort, please alert Sickbay. This is Ensign Garg. As a Tellarite, he will blend in with the Feasting activities at the talks. He is also a medic, capable of responding to emergencies. Garg has been asked to use his culinary skills for the treaty negotiations, so this extra precaution will not draw undue attention. Garg can monitor you without being intrusive."
"Greetings Ensign Garg. Doctor, I'm sure the Ensign is a worthy medic." The matriarch revealed a slight note of petulance that the doctor had not encountered in her before. Perhaps she was tired and cranky. "However, may I request that Lieutenant Junior grade Khan Nilani be assigned as my new escort? Among other reasons, she is a Bajoran."
"Of course, I will be happy to forward the request to Commander Thomas, so you can persue your studies. The engineering staff can probably spare her while we are orbiting Bajor.", the Doctor finished. "If your request is approved, Madame, Nilani will join you tomorrow."
The Prophetess looked up with soulful eyes. "Thank you Doctor Jeral Maas, I appreciate the lengths you go to keep everyone here well. Please receive this copy of the Word. May its tenants guide you to a path of serenity and peace."
"I shall read it soon, Madame. May you continue your journey in good health."
The prophetess politely excused herself, retiring to her chambers to contemplate her religious beliefs. Jeral knew the Captain planed to be planet side in the morning, so he headed off to the bridge. Orbiting Bajor might not be very exciting as far as command shifts went, however, Jeral decided that he could pass his bridge watch qualification while things were relatively calm.
"Phaser Trials"
Wilhem was once more in the HoloDeck trying to figure out the way to fire a phaser without killing the person next to him. In front of him were several round targets, striped like those for an archery competition.
Taking a deep breath, Wilhem aimed the phaser at the closest target. He tried to focus in on the target, but it was extremely difficult. It kept coming in and out of focus. The same problem affected him during his archery trials on his world.
Releasing the breath in a slow, measured burst, he fired. And hit the simulated stick holding up the target. That burned through, and the target fell by the wayside.
Repeating the procedure with the second target, he fired, and hit the gorudn in fornt of it. Trying again, he missed, hitting a simualted bird flying over. Triyng for a thrid time, he hit the target, a glancing blow.
The third and final target was at 250 yards. This one took five shots to even score a hit on the outer ring. He could never seem to do any better. Even with bow and arrows, something he was more used to.
Tests had been run, and no one had figured out just what was the problem. He was not nearsighted. He definitely not farsighted. No astigmatism was found. The only thing they could figure out was that he seemed to have problems with figuring out how far away the targets were. But that was a problem they seemed to have no cure for. Sighing, Wilhem reset the simulation, and tried again.
Location: Ten Foreward, USS Galaxy
Ensign Kelly sat in a booth in the Ten Foreward. Out of the viewport to her left was the spectacular image of Bajor next to it the glint of Deep Space Nine, both of which were occasionally silouhetted by the glory of the wormhole in action.
She hadn't once looked at it.
Instead , all her attention was rivited to the various scraps of paper, padds and even the back of her hand where notes were hurridly jotted down to preserve. She keyed information into the padd before her then would appear to think for a moment, smile then key in something else.
She was sitting on her left leg and flexed it a bit to regain circulation a bit. As she did so she saw Ensign Kelly sneak in across the room.
"Hey Jim!" She called out cheerfully, " C'mover her if you got a second."
Kelly walked over looking a bit reluctant to do so yet showing no effects from the wound to his leg. "Whats up?" he asked.
She looked up at him. His eyes seemed to be red and swollen and his pupils were wildly out of wack.
"Are you ok? You look ...funny." she said , a look of genuine concern on her face.
"Funny looking huh? I like you too, lady." He said in an attempt to divert attention from himself with humor. Seeing that he wasnt being too sucessful, he added: "Dont worry, Im fine. Just a bit tired is all.
"Tell maria to give you a rest! Jeez, the spirit is willing but the flesh does sometimes get weak." She said patting him on his hand wich to her felt a bit too cold and slightly shaking.
"I'll do that." he said quietly. "What are you up to?"
"Oh man, i'm glad you asked. Remember that reporter that Raven is escorting around? We have him thinking that the changelings are lying in wait all over the ship and the two of them have to hunt them down."
"You say "we" ?"
"Raven came to me to help him think of a good lie to tell Leo. It was all I could think of. Now heres the fun part, i told them id compile a list of suspected items. What do ya think?" she said sliding the padd over to Kelly who gave it the once over.
"I think that he's going to kill you when this is over."
"Aw, cmon. Im just having a little fun with him. trying to ease a tense situation a little bit." she said with a wave of dismissal.
"You know that Raven has no sense of humor."
"Sure he does. Its just buried under his muscles and macho attitude and spooky indian image."
"I still dont think youll live long enough to find it. Your actually going to have him look at these things?"
"Unless you have somthing else to add?" she said , flashing a big smile.
"Oh no! I value my life and the ability to walk under my own power. Your on your own here."
"You worry too much silly. I think im ready to spring this on him." She said gathering her things. " get some rerst, ok? You do look a bit odd. Dont push yourself so hard so soon and if you need to, make an appointment to see the doctor."
"Yes mother. " he said as she bent down to kiss his cheek then disappeared into the hallway.
She bounced down the hallway, barely able to contain her laughter. Hes gonna get such a kick out of these - she thought.\
She entered the Brig to see Raven talking to a man in a holding cell. She thought it was Lt. Commander Jamson but she wasn't sure. She spied Leo in the office and immediatly entered.
Leo, who was looking in the mirror at his reflection and growling" your busted pal!" in a variaty of voices and poses, jumped when he saw the Ensign and spun around looking around to see that nobody was eavesdropping. He motioned to the chair and shut the office door.
"Agent Sierra! I take it you have that .."you know what" he said with an exaggerated wink, " Dealing with those things , for me and my partner to deal with?"
Sierra first wishing she had brought her decoder ring to understand him suddenly realized what he was talking about.
"Yes, deputy Streely. I have it right here. I assunme i dont have to caution you about this list falling into the wrong hands." she said solomnly, handing Leo the padd.
"Ok. ok. ok. hey dont worry about us. Noone will see this after we've both committed it to memory." He held the padd with reverence. " Is this thing gonna like, self destruct after we read it?"
"No Leo, We dont operate in that fashon. We trust that our..operatives will dispose of it in an appropriate fashion."
" Yeah yeah, you mean like eating it or somethingI got ya." he said.
Sierra couldnt supress the image of Raven and Leo hunkering down next to a filing cabnit in a dimly lit room breaking off pieces of the padd and consuming them while looking over thier shoulders.
The large security officer opened the door and stopped dead upon seeing the duo. Leo waved the padd in the air. " We have our orders, partner."
"I just gave deputy Streely the list." she said with a wink.
"Oh goody. I can hardly wait." Raven said dryly.
Sierra stiffled a giggle then whispered " I knew you had a sense of humor." She looked back at leo and gave him a nod. Leo threw up a salute.
"Well meet again in two days to report on your progress." She said. " face to face is the only way to do it. We wouldnt want a transmission to be intercepted. Good luck, gentleman."
She left and closed the door behind her.
Leo pointed to the door with the padd. " She is one sharp lady. I feel much better knowing that people like her are safeguarding the federation making the universe a better place. We can learn alot from her."
Raven snatched the pad and said " Im sure we could,"
He keyed on the large yellow smiley face and read the list that opened. He stopped halfway down the small number of items. He looked at leo then back at the padd. She must be kidding. She had to be kidding.
"Im going to kill her." he muttered under his breath.
Michala hurried into the observation lounge where she and a few others had been meeting with the prophetess. She had swung by her apartment to get her PADD that held the "Word". She slipped in a little late and a little flushed. She felt guilty about leaving John like that after he had told her he loved her. But the truth was, he had scared her. She hadn't expected him to tell her that so soon if at all. She thought about her conversation with Eric as she slipped into a seat on the edge of the circle.
Among the others in the circle she recognized crewman Frawley, the very muscular engineer's eyes were closed while he repeated a Decilian mantra that closely resembled a Terran 'tongue twister'. Frawley was at the previous morning sermon as well, and he seemed to be finding serenity in the Word just as Michala herself was.
Michala was surprised to see a senior officer at the sermon. Lieutenant Commander Surok was standing out of the way, by a viewport. His intention appeared to be observation. Strange: he seemed so impassive.
Madame Kiye touched the circle-sitters nearest her. She was in one of the low-slung chairs, her repulsor chair a meter away. She looked over at Michala - not a touch of admonishment in her grandmotherly expression. "Dear Michala Lynn. It is grand that you could make it." She looked at the lieutenant, her eyes fixed upon Michala's. "Never allow fear or regret to cloud your enjoyment of life's precious gifts," she advised.
Michala looked up in surprise. She could swear this woman was a telepath sometimes and yet she gave no other indication of it. She returned the smile with a slow shy one of her own. "I will try to remember that." Michala whispered. Michala listened to the sermon with solemn attention, forgetting about all those around her but the prophetess and her words. She closed her eyes as the prophetess began to bless each one before they left for their various duties. She, however, did not move. She had no where to go and could use this time for quiet reflection. She felt soothed and at ease, unlike the emotions she had carried into the room.
Across the circle, Madame Kiye placed her hands on the arms of her chair and took a deep breath. She pulled herself up and into a nearly-vertical position with a little grunt. Turning her attention to the viewports she said, "Lieutenant commander Surok, thank you for attending my services. I hope it was informative. I will be pleased if you wish to speak later; however right now I would like to spend some time with Michala Lynn."
Against the backdrop of Bajor suspended against a star-filled sky, Surok lifted one eyebrow. "I will make time to speak with you this evening at the celebratory meal. Thank you for this rare opportunity to observe your practices."
The ninety-one year old matriarch took a few steps to the chair beside Michala's and let herself fall into it with another small grunt and a sigh of relief. She rubbed at the base of her neck, where light reflected off of the chain that hung there. "Oh, I must remember to be more literal when speaking with Vulcans. I meant to ask that you give the young woman and me some privacy," she explained to the Vulcan ops officer who hadn't budged from his observation point.
Surok nodded, "I apologize, Prophetess. I will return to my duties now." He left the room quietly to return to the Bridge.
The old woman shifted around in the seat, getting more comfortable. She adjusted her robes over her knees and said, "Michala, what is on your mind?"
"I have much on my mind, prophetess. For example, I recently met a man who has captured my full attention and desire, but.. given my circumstances I am unsure whether or not to proceed. If I turn away from my betrothed, the backlash could be devestating to many people involved." Michala said, not even sure why she volunteered so much. "I find your sermons give me peace so that I can then think on the many issues that I face right now."
Madame Kiye spoke calmly, asking, "You've been reading the Word, haven't you?"
"I have read it every spare moment. Though to be honest, I must read it slowly for it holds so much that it takes me awhile to discern meanings." Michala admitted.
"That is good, child. There is great wisdom in the text. We can quote many enlightening phrases to make you feel strong. But, I will let you read them in your own time. The Word is much more than small quotes taken out of context." She took Michala's hand. "I suspect the backlash that you fear will not be as devastating as you think."
"There are so many things though. There is his children that see me as his mother. What will they do without a mother? But then, if I go to him, I must give up this child? Her words stopped, emotions to great to put the many thoughts to words.
The Prophetess assured her, "You cannot know what may befall your betrothed's children without you to mother them. But the same may be said of motherless children in the Gamma quadrant. Their father, I suspect, is a powerful man who will stop at nothing to give them the best life he can. Are you but his tool for accomplishing his goal?" She quickly expanded her metaphor, "If a carpenter's hammer breaks, he simply finds another."
Michala paled a little. "You think he will just find another mother? That I am a tool and nothing more?" This pained her a little. She at least had thought he loved her. The doubt set in, Deiran WAS someone used to getting what he wanted and how he wanted it. What if he merely saw her as a tool without attachments and baggage to interfere? If this was so, then she really did have NO ONE!
"Dear, be merry! We are lifting this weight from your shoulders even now. You can now see that those beautiful children will never be wanting because you rejected a role that was thrust upon you. Your destiny is up to you," the elderly woman explained. She clutched the pendant about her neck in her fist. "You now have your own baby, and you may raise it alone if you like. Or, find a father to help you raise it in a loving home. If you like, you can come and raise your child on Decilia."
Michala had been about to protest but then the Prophetess's words dawned on her like a break in storm clouds revealing a sun. Of course she was right! Forget Eric. Forget Deiran. Forget those who thrust unwanted roles upon her! . She could decide where she would go and who she was with. There was no cause for worry. Deiran was not here and Eric did not seem to care anyway. The future was hers to grasp hold of. Her eyes widened as a sense of relief and well being flooded through her. What had she been so worried about? "I think I would like that, at least to bring it to Decilia to be blessed. I have no home? It would be nice to be able to call someplace other then a ship home?" Her eyes watched the prophetess brightly.
Madame Kiye's eyes welled up as if she was about to cry. "Michala Lynn, your child would bless us all. If the negotiations continue as they have been, we will soon be able to welcome visitors and the faithful from all over. But, if things do not go well at the treaty talks, we will FIND A WAY to get you to the Great Cathedral, with your baby." She sounded frightened that diplomatic red tape might imperil Michala and her child.
"I have no ties to bind me here, Prophetess. I can go where I wish if I choose to. And even if it is on leave, the choice is still mine." Michala smiled. "I want you to bless my child when it is time." Michala stood. "I thank you for your wisdoms. Your words will comfort me throughout the day. Ask anything of me, and it is yours." Her eyes glistened with renewed fervor.
A tiny smile of satisfaction appeared on the Prophetess's face momentarily. She pursed her lips and settled back in her chair. "I ask for nothing. Perhaps, one day, you will have an opportunity to help one of the Faithful in need. Maybe you will help them. Until then, let us simply make sure that I and your baby share blessings, Dear Michala..."
Commander Thomas left his quarters after having learned where his wife was and that she wasn't coming back to the ship for a while. She wanted to get out and walk around on real dirt and feel the wind. He couldn't blame her, but he also wished she'd told him where she was going before hand.
He wished that he could join her, but his duties at the moment required him to remain on the ship. She would be back on the ship soon anyway, mostly likely before his shift on the bridge was even over.
Chris stepped into the turbolift.
"Bridge" he called.
The captain had gone down to Bajor to relax himself. Which Chris was happy to see the captain taking his own advice and that was positive. He held no angry about covering for the captain or anyone else, as he knew his turn would come some day. It might not be today, but it would come.
He didn't know everything there was to know about everything. Heck how could anyone know everything about everything. It wasn't possible, at least not in a human's life time. It would take 10's of thousands of lifetimes. Even those who claimed to know it, just didn't know it all.
In any case, he was here and the captain was there.
Commander Thomas looked up at the viewscreen once more.
"Boring" he said to himself, thinking about why he was here.
This watch was nothing more then bridge sitting duty. And he was pulling more of them then normal as most of the crew was rotating on and off the planet for some R&R. Which he of course had no objection to seeing the crew got a good rest.
"Any change?" Chris asked as he glanced back up from the chair console.
"Nothing new sir." the ops officer said.
"Alright continuing as you were." commander Thomas said returning his attention to reading.
Chris continued his reading and scanning of material on record. He was using this dull time to the best of ability. He was finishing up reports and working on new reports. Well actually he was just about done with all of his reports. After which he planned to plunge himself into some heavy reading material.
The reading material he'd picked out wasn't something one would normally think of reading. He was going to read some of the latest Starfleet counselling reports.
****Savat's Quarters****
By all accounts, the diplomatic proceedings were going well. Savat, in his guise as a Decilian, had listened in on much of what had transpired so far. He was both impressed by and cautious of the Prophetess. That she had an uncanny knack for reading people was obvious, and she used it to great effect in her sermons at the Federation Embassy on Bajor. What concerned Savat was the speed with which she seemed to be making converts amongst the delegation.
But that, he realized, was a matter for the diplomats. His area of focus was security, and so far, his officers had performed in an exemplary manner. The members of the honor guard were split into three shifts, the first handling the morning negotiations, the second the afternoon proceedings and the third attended to the Prophetess during the evenings while she was on board the Galaxy. In addition to the shift supervisors who had all been encouraged to participate, Savat had more than enough volunteers amongst his staff. They were all gaining valuable experience in diplomatic security that would serve them well aboard a ship such as the Galaxy.
The assignment had also given him the chance to evaluate Lieutenant Elaithin in action. Like Savat, the Bajoran Security officer was in disguise as a Decilian and was playing the role of a minor functionary to Madame Kiye. He had slipped into the part easily and with confidence with the uninformed none the wiser as to his true nature.
Savat was taking one of his few breaks since arriving at Bajor. He spent two hours meditating, clearing his mind of stray thoughts and analyzing his activities and decisions from the previous day. He kept returning to Madame Kiye and the ease with which she had deconstructed his inner thoughts. For a non-telepath, her ability was nothing short of astounding. Savat had at first been taken aback by her suggestions, but after deeper consideration had decided to take action.
'Go to them', Madame Kiye had suggested. 'They have been waiting a long time for the truth.'
The truth. Seeking the truth was one of the primary tenants of Vulcan society. And yet, there were many things that this same society preferred to keep to itself. The shadowy nature of the V'Shar security service was one of them. They pursued the truth as vehemently as the most accomplished researchers at the Science Academy but at the same time, often found themselves keeping the truth to themselves for the good of the Vulcan people and Vulcan's position in Starfleet.
It was during Savat's time with the V'Shar, before the outbreak of the war, that he found himself bending the truth further than he ever had before, for the sake of his assignment and for his own sake. Savat had never recounted the events that had occurred back then, except during his debriefing by Security Minister Satok. He had not thought about them in years, and then, only subconsciously after his arrival on Bajor.
But somehow, Madame Kiye had seen something written on his normally intractable face. A hint of regret? A feeling of loss? Savat's efforts to analyze and repress the small upwelling of emotion through meditation had not proved successful. No one, short of a Kolinhar master, would have detected the subtle change in Savat. But to Savat himself, the unresolved feeling was like a disease in its early stages. And he intended to take care of it before it grew into something bigger.
Savat walked over to his book case and removed an old leather bound copy of "A Statistical Analysis of Thespian Methodology" by T'Ril, one of the best works available on Vulcan acting techniques and a field guide that Savat continued to rely upon when conducting undercover assignments.
Vulcan method acting was unlike any other in the Federation. In order to undertake a role, a Vulcan actor first created a statistical matrix that took into account the character's personality profile, past history, physical, psychological and spiritual motivations and then created deltas that predicted the character's reactions to the event content of the script. When taken from a stage into the field, where events were no longer pre-scripted, and some level of improvisation was called for, the matrix was expanded to even greater levels of detail, with the actor/agent entering in all possible contingencies that might be encountered while on assignment.
Savat flipped through the well worn pages, turning to a chapter entitled "Mimicking Xeno-Emotional States via Muscular Programming" and began to read.
"Perhaps the most difficult challenge facing an actor is the portrayal of non-Vulcan roles, such as those found in Human Shakespearean works or in the classic Klingon operas. Such characters necessitate the mimicking of emotions for the role to be believable. This is no simple task and requires intense physical and emotional control. In this chapter, we will review the twenty six major expressions of emotion that a Vulcan must master in order to accurately portray the most common of the races currently known. The persistent study and training of facial muscles, body language and tone of voice all contribute to a successful portrayal. But more importantly, the Vulcan thespian must train his or her mind. We must never forget that our own emotions, while veiled from society by our cultural traditions, are powerful. The act of mimicking these emotions physically can incur an unwanted and very real emotional reaction as the mind responds to what it perceives as the body's attempt to seek an emotional outlet. An actor must prepare in advance, through meditation, for the role ahead, redoubling his or her efforts to suppress any and all conscious or subconscious thoughts, other than those that focus on the role itself. The actor must, in effect, become a blank slate, free of any mental interference, other than the mechanics and logic required to fulfill the role."
Savat closed the book and returned it to the shelf. T'Ril's teachings had served him well over the years and were serving him now in his portrayal of a Decilian. But it had not always been the case. There was a time when Savat's immersion into his role had lead to unexpected consequences.
It was these consequences that Madame Kiye perceived and which now filled Savat's thoughts. The Prophetess had correctly deduced that the solution to his troubles could be found on Bajor. Seeing no logical reason to delay any further, Savat decided to proceed.
He walked over to his storage cabinet and opened the top drawer. He removed a small box made of polished Bajoran wood. He opened it slowly and for the first time in nearly nine years, gazed at the ornate earring contained within.
"Ryanna." He whispered softly to himself, allowing an image of her to grace his thoughts.
Savat quickly closed the box and stored it in his pocket. It was time to go.
*** ***
Lieutenant Commander Savat
"Thipto Lapth." Threll said to the Lt. Gustavson who was piloting the shuttle ride to the Galaxy. "I am Ensign Threll, Security."
"Whom do we report to once we arrive on board? Our respective department heads or to the ships Yeoman?" He asked.
Lt. Gustavson was still trying to take in the whole image of a Blue Andorian in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. I took a few seconds until he regained control over his mind.
"I`m sorry sir, but your dress reminded me of my former department chief. Till now I`ve take this kind of shirt as a part of an ancient traditional Hawaiian dress. I never expected to face an Andorian wearing it." the red haired helmsman explained.
"To answer your question: I expect a crew mate from Operations waiting for you to assign your quarters and to take you on a tour of the Galaxy. Usually your department heads are waiting to welcome you, that is LCDR Savat for you Ensign Threll, Lt Richeson for you Ensign Parry and Lt. Maxwell for you, Ensign Chandran.
By the way, Ensign Chandran, I would like to excuse our department chief. Bruce just became proud father of twins. So don`t be disappointed if he is not waiting in the shuttle bay. As his deputy and in the name of the whole Flight Control department I would like to welcome you in our team. If you don`t mind, I will conduct the tour for you.
Jessie smiled at the Lt."Thanks for meeting us so promptly Sir. I hope the Galaxy is all I have heard and much more." She sat down in the corner, and closed her eyes. She could feel the shuttle`s vibrations as it approached the worm hole. 'Here I go' She thought 'I hope this is better then the Nirranda'
Suddenly, the worm hole disappeared from the cockpit window. The shuttle changed course. Ragnald turned around and told his passengers:
"Some of you may have expected to have a roller coaster ride through the worm hole. I have to disappoint you. The confidence of our current mission required to make everybody think the Galaxy is still over there in the Gamma quadrant. Did you ever visit Bajor?"
Ragnald turned back to his console let his fingers dance on the LCARS touch screen panel to make the small light points called stars change into thin bright lines. Shuttle Yeager started warp travel back to the Galaxy currently orbiting Bajor.
Jessie turned towards the Lt." No sir I have never visited Bajor in my life. Is it as they say? A very pretty place trying hard to recover from the wars?"
Ragnald shook his head. "Can`t say Ma`am. I haven`t been on the surface yet. You`ll be able to find out youself in a few minutes. We`re almost back home." he said. Instantly he recognizing the word 'home' probably had a totally different meaning to his passengers - at least for now.
The young Lietenant turned back to his console to operate several controls. Outside the transparent aluminium windows the thin bright lines changed back into points. Ahead in a distance of less than a few thousand kilometres a small green needle's head grew larger and larger - Bajor. Soon, a much smaller object would appear in its orbit, an artificial satellite he called his home - the Galaxy.
"Premonitions?.."
Ethan didn't have much free time. He was either working or sleeping. He chose to work more than he had to, but he did like his work and wanted to set a good example to not only the Junior Engineers, but to the other officers on the ship. But tonight he had a few hours to play with. First, a quiet stroll around the ship, then a trip to the Holodeck to give his old friend Lieutenant Gillings a rematch at the newly introduced Pit Bet game.
During his trip around the ship, he had noticed what people would call 'weird' occurrences happening. He would be walking along and suddenly he would be in a completely different section to where he was only seconds before. He figured that his mind had just drifted off to somewhere far, far away...
Before he knew it, it was time to meet his opponent in one of the Holodecks. He was ready for the match and new that he could beat his old friend. Usually their match's would last for hours, and they would both be exhausted after. But Ethan intended to set a record between the two of them. One of the Junior Engineers pointed out earlier that Ethan never did like the idea of people constantly going down to the Holodeck to fight. But Ethan thought that this was different. His opponent was real and the idea was to knock him or her off a ledge, not to obliterate them!
Before Ethan knew it, he was at the Holodeck. Lieutenant Gillings had already set up the program and was working out. He turned his attention to Ethan as he entered the Holodeck.
Ethan walked over to a table and picked up the padded gloves and noticed how when he entered the Holodeck, his clothes had changed. Instead of his Starfleet uniform, he simply wore some black trousers and a black vest. Where as Paul wore white.
They both stepped on to the stand that was at floor level and they just looked at each other as the stand elevated up to fifteen feet above the ground. The game was good for using martial arts skills, Ethan was surprised that none of the other crew members had come across it yet. It seemed a lot better than just being on a battle field with ten opponents. This game was about skill of balance and accuracy. You had to stay on the stand that measured five meters by five in a square shape and anywhere from ten to fifteen feet off the floor and knock your opponent off.
When the stand came to a halt, Paul held out his hand. Ethan gave it a shake and they both took their stances, ready for combat. At the end of the day it was only a game. Until they got spectators in and they began placing their bets, hence the games name, Pit Bet. Perhaps it would soon become a weekly contest for athletic contenders on the Galaxy, time would tell.
Ethan and Paul both moved forward and began punching each other. Just jabs at first. Ethan was caught off guard by Paul's left hook and received a kick to his lower back. Ethan nearly lost his balance as he rolled across the stand towards the edge. Stopping himself, he quickly jumped to his feet and looked at Paul who was waiting for retaliation.
"I think your right," Paul said, "you're getting old."
"Speak for yourself." Ethan replied as he stepped forward, waiting for Paul's next move.
"Hear from the Lakota recently?" Paul asked.
Without warning, everything seemed to slow. As Ethan blinked, when he opened his eyes, he saw himself on the Bridge of the USS-Lakota. All he could hear were explosions around him. The Tactical officer, Baxa and the Chief Engineer Rachel Sanders were both looking at him as if wanting to know what to do next in the emergency. As Ethan turned to look behind him, he felt a sudden jolt in his neck. Didn't take long to realise he had just been punched again. Only this time when he opened his eyes, he was led on the stand, face down. He looked up at Paul who was ready to strike again, but was waiting for Ethan to stand.
"Something on your mind?" Paul asked as he watched Suder get to his feet.
"I keep seeing things." Ethan replied as he got ready to continue the match.
Ethan managed to block a few of Paul's punches and stepped back to re-evaluate Paul's condition after the five minutes that they had been fighting already.
"What kind of things?" Paul asked throwing another right at Ethan.
Ducking, Ethan pushed Paul away and kicked him as his opponent fell back.
Paul almost fell over the edge, but managed to keep his balance. He quickly got to his feet and gave a nod to Ethan for his quick reactions.
"I keep seeing old places, people too." Ethan explained.
"You mean like 'Commander Samara, the Lakota and Betazoid?" Paul asked.
Ethan dropped his guard at the mention of all of them. Again, everything went slow. He could see Paul moving in to attack, but he couldn't respond. He could hear voices and see other things, yet he couldn't do anything.
Paul gave Ethan his best shot. The after effect? A Chief Engineer led on the edge of the stand. Paul noticed that Ethan was never this easy to fight before but he didn't really take much notice of it.
Ethan slowly got to his feet. He suddenly felt exhausted. He had a sharp pain in his head too. It was the same sort of pain that he experienced earlier in Engineering and in his office and quarters. He just assumed that it was too much stress and maybe being hit this hard was another reason. Dazed and unable to react very fast, he watched as Paul moved in for the final blow.
And it was a final blow. Paul hit Ethan as hard as he could and watched as Ethan fell off the stand towards the mats below. Paul strolled over to the edge and looked down to see Ethan led on the mats, not moving at all.
"Computer, lower stand!" Paul snapped.
Ethan saw so many things and heard so many voices in his head. Scenes from the past and present played through his mind as if he were going through old logs or something in his mind. The more he focused, the more the voices were getting clearer. He opened his eyes and was shocked when he saw Paul leaning over him as if trying to wake him up.
"What's up?" Ethan asked.
"I must have hit you harder than I thought." Paul replied. "You've been out of it for a few minutes, medical team's on their way."
Ethan forced himself to get up. "I don't need them." Ethan said with a forced smile.
"As I said, I may have hit you harde-"
"I'm just tired all right!" Ethan snapped. "Been a busy day. That and a few punches, of course I'm going to be dazed." Ethan said as he walked out of the Holodeck. He returned to his quarters right away and paced around them for quite a while, trying to think...
To Be Continued...
Commander Thomas heard the report from security about some sort of disturbance in Holodeck 3. He continued to monitor securities reports about the incident and eventually learned that holodeck 3 was broken.
"Sir. I am reading a power overload on holodeck three." Lieutenant Uhura stated from the Operations station.
Then he learned it was Lt. Commander Jamson's fault for the holodeck being unusable at the moment. This did raise an eyebrow, because and Mr. Jamson had meet weeks before to discuss his future on the ship. Which also included considering him for the second officer's spot, guess he just got bumped.
Still it left the Commander unsure about what happened. He needed more information before making any sort of decision or move. When he had more details about what happened from security then he could act.
"Repair teams are on their way to holodeck 3."
"Alright I want to know what happened down there, before they start repairing the holodeck." Commander Thomas ordered.
"Aye sir."
Commander Thomas continued to wait patiently for the engineers report about the holodeck and for more details come from security.
Chris had to wait ten minutes before he finally got a report about the problem in Holodeck 3.
"Sir, I have the initial report. It seems that Lt. Commander Jamson attacked holodeck and damaged the control console beyond immediate repair. Secondly it seems that he's also decided to attack Lieutenant Sanchez."
"Well that's not good." Chris said.
"DO WE KNOW WHY?"
"Not at the moment sir." the officer said.
Commander Thomas thought about the situation for a moment.
"Lt. Commander Uhura, change of plans. Take all holodecks off-line for the day. I want maintenance teams sent to each one for a complete review. While you're at it drop a note to Lt. Commander Savat about this circumvention of ship policy regarding the holodecks." Chris ordered.
"Aye sir."
Chris knew very much that some people weren't going to be to happy about this restriction placed on holodecks. He knew that it would still take some time sort the mess out on Holodeck 3, but he wanted to make sure it was a unique incident.
Hmm.. it would seem to him that the crew needed a refreshment course on holodeck use.
Maybe a holodeck certification requirement should be added to the list of certifications one might obtain on the ship. Those without certification would face tougher chances of getting holodeck use, those who violated the rules would lose certification and the right to use the holodeck.
It might be worth mentioning to the captain or to Lt. Commander Savat first.
Nilani turned and pressed on the door bell to the Prophetess's room.
Seconds later the door opened Nilani entered, she looked around and saw that the Prophetess was sitting by the window looking out.
Nilani moved up to her and smiled "How did the talks go?"
The ruler of Decilia VII turned away from the viewport without delay. "Nilani, it's good of you to come," she said with cheer. "Oh, the negotiations are moving along as expected. It looks as if we'll have that treaty soon enough. I know the true hazards await." Her sudden grim tone was uncharacteristic.
"Is there something wrong Prophetess? You seem a little distracted and tired?" Nilani asked moving over to her and sitting down on a chair.
Madame Kiye maneuvered her repulsor chair to the replicator panel. "You see, these events were prophecied long ago by Prophetess Nalei. She had a vision and recorded it. She wrote 'The beast that holds the leash over our oppressors shall not withdraw. A great battle will be fought in the sky for dominion of the worlds of the Faithful. And the victors shall hold the freedom of Decilia for a lifetime.'"
The old woman ordered a glass of warm toka juice. "Would you care for something, Nilani?"
"Thank you for offering, I would like a glass of ice water..." The Prophetess got the glass of water and gave it to Nilani "Thank you, I was told that I am to be assigned to you, I am honored!" she smiled as she took a sip into the glass.
Madame Kiye waved her hand dismissively. "Doctor Maas insisted I be accompanied by someone, and I thought of you immediately. I believe you have much unrecognized potential, Nilani." She took a gulp from her glass of dark red fruit juice.
Nilani stood and picked up the data padd which was sitting on the table. She realised it was the word, it made complete sense and the Prophetess meerly added to that sureity. She smiled and sat down "You realise.... since meeting you, I feel quite open - as if I can tell you everything that has happened to me in my life."
She looked out the window and saw the Bajoran moon comming out from behind the planet she once called home. She smiled and thought back to the texts she had just poured through.
'Hail fair Moon,
She blinked a couple of times and looked at the prophetess who was smiling.
The old woman spread her hands, "So Nilani, what else do you wish to tell me? You have so much you need to tell me don't you?" she asked while looking at Nilani.
Nilani turned "Where to start.... how about...." she smiled a smile that was pure joy "Yes.. When I escaped from the mining camp I ran from that area of space into romulan teritory. They are much like they are here, they keep to them selfs and have a large size militry force... So i joined them and headed back into this area of space. I managed to ellude, destroy and cripple many of the ships before I was ordered to take control of the Galaxy." She smiled "Two of my unknown skills are how to fly any ship with more skill than most of the pilots in starfleet and I am tactically minded.. I was always the one that had this insight into where to attack."
She smiled and took another look at the moon. "Its funny, few people trust me on the ship and my skills are underated..... I know every weakness in this ship and more so."
Suddenly the Prophetess, who had her glass to her lips, broke into a coughing fit. She fumbled with one hand to put her drink down while the other hand waved before her mouth. The coughs wracked her frail body and made her eyes tear up. Nilani rushed to her side, but soon enough her coughing subsided.
Nilani offered her glass of water, which Madame Kiye gratefully accepted and swallowed from. "Thank you dear; the toka juice burns a bit." She had another drink of water and said, "go on. You were saying something about your intimate knowledge of the USS Galaxy."
The engineer elaborated, "well, I studied the Galaxy class starship in detail before I ever came aboard looking for weaknesses to exploit. And, I guess, I never broke the habit of looking for flaws and loopholes. Actually, for that matter, I don't just limit myself to the Galaxy class ships. But, does anyone ask me for an opinion on how to improve it? I doubt they'd take me seriously if they did..."
"Perhaps that is a difference between the Galaxy and the Cathedral," suggested the Prophetess. "On Decilia, among the Faithful, your difference would be welcomed as a symbol of diversity. Your knowledge and skills would be respected and treasured." She placed one hand on the engineer's wrist, and the other on her own neck where the pendant had come out from beneath her robes during her coughing fit. "You must one day return to the Cathedral with me, for a visit."
Nilani thought for that and smiled "Yes, perhaps.... sooner than you think.... I don't know..... I suppose I think about the Galaxy in all different lights. Karyn - I love kayrn she's like the mother I never had, yet I know.... in my mind that If I left... few people would miss me. I might very well take you up on that offer"
Nilani sat back down "I'm even on light duties, I spend most of my time reading... The word is quite insightful, thank you for giving me a copy"
The matriarch chuckled, "insightful! Yes, it is that. And, I think you will find the Cathedral of the Word a very comfortable place to visit. Like home." Now recovered from her coughing, Madame Kiye noticed her pendant reflecting the room lighting dully from its buffed quartz-like surface. She tucked it back beneath her robes.
"Shall we make our way to dinner with the captain? You're now a personal aide to me, and your presence will be necessary at dinners of state," she said with a touch of mirth.
Nilani looked quite surprised at that response, she nodded slightly then her mind caught up with her "I'm.... thank you..... prophetess" she looked and stood up, moving to the replicator "These are good for more than one thing. Computer dress uniform, size to fit Kahn Nilani"
To the surprise of the guest, the computer beeped and replicated the uniform. Seconds later Nilani undressed and placed on the uniform, letting down her hair and making sure her face was acceptable in a mirror. "Well I think I'm ready" she smiled at the prophetess.
"I will have to stop calling you 'child' now," she laughed. "Well, I am prepared as well. I must warn you, however, that I may become tired and wish to retire from the banquet early. Oh, we must stop at Tarie's quarters and make ourselves a trio!"
Joint Post Starring:
=/\= Lt. Commander Surok
=/\= Lt j/g Rebecca von Ernst
(USS Galaxy)
It had been a dreadfully long day in Tactical for "Cadet Cloaking Device" and now she was fighting the good fight against oncoming sleep. Lt j/g Rebecca von Ernst yawned and stretched lithely at her station, her dainty little feet coming to points on the deck below her.
The Galaxy was in standard orbit, and would indeed remain here for a week or so, therefore the duties at Tactical were rather limited. So she stretched and watched the blinking lights that were her responcibility. No traffic, was scheduled today, so she was quietly running some plotting exercises to occupy her mind.
Thats when HE walked in
Lt. Commander Surok strode onto the bridge in the regal, formal manner typical to all Vulcans. Gazing neither to the left or the right, he strode purposefully towards one of the aft stations........
But something caught his sharp eye.
Turning on a dime, the tall, slim Vulcan came up quickly behind the tiny redhead, and peered over her shoulder at the equations she was running.
"Fascinating."
Unaware of his scrutiny, Rebecca jumped a country mile, and when she whirled to see who it was, she wilted beneath the steady gaze of his cool demenor. "Well.....ah....y'know....gee" Rebecca said very intelligently.
The tall Vulcan regarded the tiny human cooly with a piercing gaze. "Indeed, I have not considered that particular approach to a Van Burger's Parabola. Did you require the assistance of the computer to calculate this?"
Rebecca shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and nervously twirled a lock of her hair, she glanced at the diagram on her screen before her and scrunched her nose. "No....ah...its not really a Van Burger's Parabola, but somthing .....um of my own. I came up with this at the Academy and....was...uh...well just fiddling with it tonight."
"Indeed?" Surok remarked, raising a single eyebrow as he considerd that, "I find it difficult to understand how I overlooked your research. I am quite thourough in reveiwing all the latest mathmatical publications, including those originating from Starfleet Academy."
Rebecca turned her brown eyes from her screen to the lean, strong lines of the Vulcan's face, his olive skin betraying no emotion other than perhaps simple curiosity. "Yeah well..." she began tearing her eyes back down, "I never actually published it. Dr. Harlon in Mathmatics urged me to, but.....um.....well I suppose I was a little shy about a bunch of strangers reading my work." her voice trailed off into a whisper.
Surok frowned, "Most curious," he said, "To not share one's discoveries is illogical. It is the goal of any researcher to expand the general body of knowledge and make it avalable for others to build upon."
"Yeah well, I wasnt a researcher," Rebecca explained still fiddling with her hair, "I was just some snotty sophomore at the Academy who wanted a good grade in Advanced Plotting."
Surok considered the enigma that was the human before him and attempted to understand the rationale behind that emotion that was called shyness. He failed to perceive any beneficial effects of it (or any other emotioanl responce) He turned back to the aft LCARS station, to complete his original task, but continued to address Rebecca from over his shoulder. "I regret to interrupt your work Lt, but if it will not affect your duty-efficiency, I am understandably curious regarding the process behind the developement of your variation on the Van Burger Parabola."
Rebecca chewed her bottom lip nervously as she stared at the Vulcan's back. Looking around she worried if anyone else noticed her sitting and conversing with Surok's rather toned backside. The mere impopriety of the situation made her blush.
Surok spoke again as he worked "Or if you wish, perhaps at shift change we could retire to a more suitable setting for in depth analysis." Surok frowned. "How is it humans say it? -Go out for coffee after work-? "
But it was a cute back-side.
~~Oh noodles! He just asked me on a DATE!!!!~~
*********************
People who live among the stars think they know what Eternity is. They look out across the vast expanse of endless void and they think to themselves....'Therein lies the Face of Forever.' To gaze into space is to touch Eternity..
WRONG!!!
Eternity for a simple little girl from Minnesota is a long Turbolift ride with a Vulcan. Leaning her slight frame lightly against the back wall listening to the soft 'whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh' as the lift passed deck after deck, Rebecca truly came to grips with the concept of Forever. As in: 'When is this ride going to end?'
Surok, the tall slim OPS Officer stood tall and straight at the center of the lift, feet planted firmly and hands clasped behind his back. His great dark eyes stared ahead at the inside of the turbolift doors and seemed to never blink.
Slouching as she was against the back wall, Rebecca rolled her brown eyes and lamented her plight. ~Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid......~ she rolled the mantra over and over in her head, ~What kind of trouble are you getting yourself into girl? Going out for coffee? With a Vulcan? Are you NUTS!?~
She glanced up at the back of Surok's head, his raven black hair cut close and even about his skull, slender tapered ears rising nicely into delicate points.
~Forget it girl, this Is NOT a date! Vulcans dont pick up girls. He just wants to talk about math.~ She recalled his expression of curiosity regarding her performance in the tactical simulation. It seemed that he had been a tactical officer as well in his past.
Rebecca thought about that for a moment. Most girls have to worry about men being after them only for their BODIES. Surok was only using Rebecca for her BRAIN!
~Typical~ Rebecca thought with a slight giggle.
"Forgive me but did you say something lieutenant?" Surok pivoted smoothly to consider the tiny girl with his intense Vulcan glare.
"Ah...no...I was...um just remembering a funny joke." Rebecca blathered, a blush coloring her freckeled cheeks.
"Indeed?" Surok remarked and raised an eybrow before turning back to the turbolift door. Behind him Rebecca buried her face in her hands and screamed a silent scream. ~NOODLES!! But how long is this Turbolift gonna take?~
The two listened to the 'Whoosh whoosh whoosh' for awhile in silence.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh....CLUNK!!!
A sudden jarring lurch sent Rebecca sprawling with a yelp! Before she could hit the deck, Surok's strong hands shot out with lightning speed and caught her underneath the arms, her face landing against his chest. The lights in the Turbolift flickered for a moment and finally dimmed to soft blue haze.
Rebecca, being supported by Surok as she was, hardly dared breath... "Are you uninjured Lieutenant?" The Vulcan queried, his voice vibrating pleasantly in his chest against her ear.
Quickly regaining her footing, Rebecca backed off akwardly trying to smooth her uniform, run fingers through her hair and talk at the same time. "Oh uh yeah I uh.....Yeah sorry about falling into you." she blushed a deeper red.
"Apologies are not necessary," Surok intoned, head pivoting as he scanned the interior of the darkened Turbolift. "I would surmise that the 'lift has encountered some sort of malfunction as we appear to have stopped moving."
Rebecca blinked, "WE'RE STUCK!?" she squeaked backing against the wall.
"Incorrect," Surok answered bending to open an access panel, "The Turbolift is 'stuck' as you put it, while we remain free to act to remedy the situation."
Rebecca glanced about nervously as Surok fiddled with a few wires, tears began to form in eyes. She realized she was wrong .......ETERNITY is being Stuck in an elevator with a Vulcan.
After a few moments Surok straightened and turned to consider her, "I have deduced the malfunction is external, and irreparable from this location, we shall require outside assistance."
Rebecca nodded glumly.
Surok tapped his Badge "Lt. Commander Surok to engineering."
=/\= Engineering here=/\=
"There is a malfunction in Turboshaft 2......We seem to have become lodged between decks and cannot extricate ourselves."
=/\=Yeah okay right, well send a team on down.=/\=
Surok nodded and closed the connection. Turning back to Rebecca, "It seems our Coffee will have to be delayed. We should endeavor to pass the time productively until our rescue."
Devastated, and nervous beyond all measure Rebecca sank lightly to the deck and hugged her knees to her chest, tears welling in her eyes. ~Great stuck in an elevator, and I have to start crying.~
Rebecca thought back to the recruiting posters she had read as a child concerning Starfleet......
Join Starfleet: See the Universe!!!!
Meet exotic Alien Creatures
Travel to the Ends of the Galaxy!!
Seek out New Life and New Civilizatons!!
Defend the Federation against the Evils on the Universe!!
~~......Or in my case, get stuck in an elevator with a Vulcan.~~
Aside from the banging of the rescue team outside, not a sound could be heard in the cramped confines of the Turbolift.
Rebecca lapsed in and out of tears for a while, and slumped into a corner enduring the torturous eternity that this Turbolift had become.
Unable to hold it back anymore she stifled a small sob of frustration and embarrassment.
Surok who still stood tall and strong turned to consider her, "Are you ill lieutenant? You seem.....(he searched for the human emotion).....upset?"
Sniffling and hugging her knees to her chest, Rebecca shrugged, "No...Its nothing I guess. I suppose under the circumstances I'm just a little scared....thats all."
"Indeed?" Surok observed, "Fear is illogical in this situation. Unlike a planetary installation where turbolifts are subject to gravity, the zero-gravity nature of this Starship and the redundant safety measures prevent the hazard of the turbolift 'falling'......I assure you we are quite safe, statistically speaking."
Rebecca half smiled through teary eyes, "No.... thats not it. Im not afraid of us falling... I guess I'm nervous in certain social situations..... Being trapped here like this in close quarters is a strain."
Surok raised an eyebrow, "I regret, if I have intruded upon your meditation. Perhaps my request for your insights into higher mathematical models was ill advised. Logic dictates if 'socializing' is troublesome, then perhaps passing the time in silence would be more acceptable. I shall endeavor to remain silent."
With that the Vulcan straightened and turned his eyes back to the stubborn bulkhead before him.
Behind him, sitting on the floor, Rebecca banged her forehead on her knees silently ~Stuipidstupidstupid~ she berated herself. Scared as she was with having so handsome a male in close quarters with her, she didnt want to be pitied and ignored, much less loose her chance........if it was a chance.
Rebecca considered her own line of thinking. ~What am I wanting a 'chance' at?~ she scrunched her nose in thought. Always the shy type she had avoided men, but she never thought to consider why they were singled out. To her knowledge she had never really 'liked' a guy before, so why should they inspire such fear in her? Maybe it was something primal and instinctive. Rebecca snorted a laugh. ~Ha!! I dont even have breasts, how can I have a mating instinct?~
This whole line of thinking made Rebecca's ears burn. Best to return the conversation to somthing safer.
For the life of her however she could not think of any conversation to initiate with Surok. Vulcans as a rule were predisposed against idle chatter, and in her own mind at least, anything that came out of her mouth seemed pathetic indeed.
The rescue crew continued to bang away outside, occasionally calling out...."Don't worry we'll have you out of there in no time."
"Illogical," Surok mused to himself, " 'No Time' is a mathematical impossibility; a contradiction of terms."
Without thinking, Rebecca wiped her eyes and spoke, "Actually Dr. Yavor of Gavin VI had some interesting equations regarding the theoretical approach to 'Zero-Time' as a Quantifiable Value."
Surok turned again to pierce Rebecca with his gaze, his face an unreadable mask, "Indeed? I would be curious to examine the merits of his theories."
Gulping Rebecca blushed realising she had just contradicted the Vulcan on a scientific matter.....An undertaking only for the very brilliant or the very foolhardy.
So once again the two trapped officers turned their minds towards the realm of higher mathmatics and chatted the night away as the rescue team banged and swore......................
Electra got off of another long bridge duty shift where nothing happened and headed for her quarters. She entered the turbolift and gave it her deck. As the lift began moving, Electra began to think about the notes she had gotten. She shivered. "Computer, override. Destination: Ten Forward."
The lift changed direction at her command and she relaxed. Maybe something would be waiting in her quarters, but she didn't need to sleep yet. She was going to unwind in a room where there were plenty of people. The doors slid open and she walked down the hall and entered Ten Forward.
The room was comfortably full, maybe a dozen people. After all, it was early in the morning, just after Gamma shift. Even those not on day shifts tended to sleep now if they weren't on duty. She saw an empty table and sat down, gazing out at the stars and Bajor. It was lovely. A voice interrupted her thoughts, "Can I get you anything?" She turned her head and saw a waiter standing behind her. She smiled. This was a situation that she knew how to handle. "Scotch, neat.triple." The waiter gave a little smile and nodded.
As she waited for her order, she thought about her time on the Galaxy. She was lonely. She had never had an easy time making friends and this ship was no exception. Social situations were so awkward for her. Growing up, she was so much taller than her peers that most of them made fun of her rather than made friends with her. By the time that had somewhat changed, she had learned to be introverted and through every college program, she was a loner. Things changed at the Academy, mainly because her roommate was a cheerful girl who was not going to let her be alone. But now she was alone again. She had thought she was making friends with a few people.Rebecca after their shared food fight experience, Drake who seemed nice and sat next to her on duty, Nilani who stuck up for her.but they were all so busy lately. Rebecca had been promoted, Drake seemed to be seeing a bit of the diplomatic envoy's aide, and Nilani was assigned to the envoy herself. They didn't have time for her. And she was accustomed to that. The waiter unobtrusively slipped the glass filled with syntheholic scotch on the table and left.
Electra took a gulp and shivered as it went down. She finished the drink within two minutes and caught the waiter's eye. She looked at her glass and he nodded. Soon, she had another glass and then another. She was feeling the effects and hoped nothing would happen so that she would have to shake off the syntheholic haze. After the fifth scotch, Electra stopped thinking about her loneliness and started thinking about Marx and his campaign of terror. But the thoughts were detached. The tension and stress were gone, drowned in the scotch. After the sixth drink, Electra rose, stumbling and fairly disoriented and headed for the doors to Ten Forward, smiling thanks at the waiter who had served her.
"Offline? Offline?!! How can the holodeck be offline?" Peter ranted infront of holodeck two.
"The holodecks are offline on the orders of Commander Thomas until further notice." the computer replied to Peter's question.
Peter bounced his football on the ground whilst staring at the control panel as though he would smash it up. He was wearing a Crewe Alexandra football kit and was not happy that the time he'd booked to play against Manchester City had been cancelled without him even knowing it.
He grabbed the football again and started off down the corridor, batting the ball against the side of the corridor and earning himself some strange looks from crewmembers who had not yet got wise to Peter's regular footballing antics.
Arriving a ten minutes later at Annalise's quarters, he pressed the chime, hoping she was home. He would've arrived sooner, but he'd run into Kevin Smith along the way, who seemed determined to get his football off him. Therefore he tackled him in the corridor and dumped him before getting into a turbolift and letting it close before Kevin could get inside himself.
Peter was in luck as the door opened shortly after, and he stepped inside bouncing his football as he did so.
"Holodecks are offline." Annalise said before Peter had even said a word to her.
"Yeah! And that narks me off even worse than you reading my mind." Peter replied. "There I was, all set to give Manchester City a good beating...." Peter said, kicking the football against the wall, and not noticing that Annalise was mouthing every word he said, "and the Holodecks are offline. I wanted to play at Gresty Road! That match is quality! It's got everything! FA Cup underdog fight on a cold, wet, windy day in Crewe on 22nd January, 2286...... are you taking the piss?" Peter suddenly asked, noticing Annalise parroting him.
"Not at all." she smiled. "Manchester City... Crewe Alexandra.... 93rd minute goal by the goalkeeper so that Crewe win the match and advance to the fifth round. Top stuff."
"And now," Peter said, continuing his rant, "now I have to go to Ten Forward instead and get hammered.... either that or sex." He added.
"With whom?" Annalise asked and started laughing.
"Maybe I should go down to deck 38 and harass those lot down there. If I've got to suffer, so should they."
"All the senior security officers are on the planet, guarding Madame Kiye." Annalise reminded him.
"Even more reason to bug them. Savat, Sanchez and Seth.... the three S'.... can't get me. Besides, I'm sure those replicators down there produce better doughnuts and coffee than anywhere else on the ship." Peter said.
"Or, as a last resort... an absolute 'I've not nothing else to do, this is an emergency last resort'.... you could spend time with your girlfriend." she said, half joking and half serious.
Fortunately, Peter read between the lines and whilst he answered jokingly, he sat down nonetheless. "I could, but that'd be unproductive."
Annalise picked up a cushion from the couch and threw it at him. Peter caught it and placed it behind his head. "However, I see that to not do so could be hazardous to my health." he let out a long sigh whilst Annalise sat down besides him.
"How's the mission going?" she suddenly asked, as though interested.
"Without me." Peter answered quickly. "Tactical is as dull as dishwater at the moment. Security is down on the planet guarding Madame Kiye whilst Tactical is sitting around doing bugger all. Oh, and von Ernst got promoted ahead of me, which would surprise me...... except for the fact that I'm Peter Lockhart: The guy who never gets promoted."
"It'll happen one day I'm sure. Besides, look at me, I've not been promoted for two years." Annalise replied.
Peter opened his mouth to answer with some wisecrack remark, but found he had no real good answer to that. So he shut it instead.
"I hope the holodecks are back online soon." Annalise said for him, and Peter started to laugh.
*** Bridge ***
Jeral arrived at the bridge. It was clear the dull duty of flying halos around Bajor was making people a bit bored. Tactical was practicing firing exercises on drones, and the Vulcan at the science console was studying the neutrino signature of the Wormhole. Even she appeared to find this less than fascinating (from the 'emotional' sagging of her shoulders).
The report of Commander Jamson's attack on Heather Sanchez broke through the tedium. Not too many details were in the initial report, but it was clear that Sanchez had been injured, and that Jamson was in custody. Jeral was sure the security officer would get prompt medical attention from the doctors still in Sickbay.
Listening to the reports, it seemed that the Operations Officer had gone berzerk, for lack of a better term.
Jeral approached Commander Thomas to make a series of suggestions. "Sir, from what I've heard I would recommend Commander Jamson be given a pschyatric evaluation before looking for organic/medical causes of his outburst. Also, since we are merely orbiting the planet, I offer to assume bridge watch if you wish to go investigate in person."
Having a medical expert on hand for consultation turned out to be handy in this instance.
Chris agreed with the doctor's oppinion, and he contacted the counseling office, requesting they send someone down to the brig.
The Commander thought a moment longer about relinquishing the bridge. Jeral had completed 2/3rds of his qualifications for watching things solo. But this was a special circumstance, with a violent attack aboard. Little could go wrong with the simple operation of orbiting the planet. And if something unforseen did happen, help was available by contacting senior officers.
The Commander finally decided to let Jeral handle things on the Bridge for the time being. "That is a generous offer, Commander. Considering the conditions, I accept. But notify the Captain and myself should unexpected happen."
"Of course Sir", the Doctor said.
Chris headed for the turbo lift. He planed to see Sanchez first. From what he heard from the reports, she would be in Sickbay getting her wounds attended. The distraction pushed away his debate about being lost in his Delcian persona. There was too much to attend to after the attack!
The Doctor turned towards Soleea at the Science station.
"Sir, I am reading minor techtonic activity, including some volcanic magma movement on Bajor, in the regions of the Fire Caves."
"How big is the disturbance?", Maas asked.
"I regret I do not have enough data to make an accurate estimate at this point.", the Vulcan Ensign argued.
"Assuming the result of this shift is a minor eruption, would it threaten any inhabited regions of Bajor?"
Soleea consulted her instrements again. "No Sir. The activity would have to esculate to at least 8 times its current levels before any city or dwelling would be compromised."
"Very well. This is not big enough of a problem to bother the Captain or Commander Thomas for now. Study the phenomina, and if things continue to build up, let me know." Jeral decided.
The Vulcan scientist looked pleased to have meaningful tasks to perform. Immediately she bent over the console, arranging commands in a logical pattern to keep tabs on the petty disturbance. Several of the emotional species looked a tad jealous that they didn't have more to do at the moment. By the time Commander Thomas came back to resume his watch, there was still some minor volcanic activity on the planet, but nothing to suggest a threat to Bajor.
(Bridge)
Captain Robert Edward Lee Price of the United Starship Galaxy led the way to his private little office off the Port side of the Main Bridge. Settling into his high back chair behind a neat little desk, he motioned towards his guest to take another of the plush seats.
With a polite nod, and a sardonic half-smile, the mysterious Cardassian Professor known as Ganod accepted the offer. Sitting slowly and gracefully he motioned towards the young Cardassian youth that seemed to follow him like a silent shadow.
The young (assistant?) stepped forward neatly, and deposited a small hand held display screen into the Professor's palm. Price waited patiently for a few moments while the deliberate Ganod reviewed a few files as if preparing to deliver a lecture.
Finally the Cardassian looked up and considered the Captain with a cool unreadable gaze. "Tell me Captain," he began in a slow yet refined voice, "What do you know of psychology? What do you know of how men react to pain?
Price blinked a bit at the unusual query, but decided to play along for the moment. Dr. Munroe did warn him that Ganod had a reputation for the enigmatic. "Pain Mate? Depends on what sort you mean. I doubt any sentient being worth his bacon has escaped life with out some sort of personnel disappointments. Goes with the territory." Price paused, "If you mean physical pain, then..."
"That will suffice." Ganod cut him off with a small smile. "I on the other hand have made the topic the subject of my life's work. The study of tragedy. The science of doom. The mantra of melancholy. The dying ember of lost hope."
Price leaned back in his chair not sure where this was going. "I understand by reputation, you specialize in the field of lost civilizations. Specifically those overthrown by unnatural means be it outside invaders, or self-destruction. But I don't see......"
"A means to an end Captain." Ganod interrupted again. "Think, why do we study archaeology? To learn how to collect shards of centuries old Pottery? No. I tell you we dig in search of souls. we seek out the mind of those long-dead forebears to speak to us the mysteries of their thoughts. We seek to understand WHY they did this, and WHAT they thought about that." Ganod paused a moment. "We are in a sense Captain, Psychologists to the dead."
Price had a brief mental image of a rotting corpse reclining back on a counselors's couch reciting to the Dr. the daily woes of being undead, but he quickly dispelled it.
Ganod continued. "Are you familiar with the history of your own people Captain? Do you know of the greatest instances of tragedy in your culture's history? Take the phenomenon of Christianity......Imagine the delicious irony of mankind, first brutalizing, then executing the very man whom came as a Savior...creation rises up against the Creator. As a result, some say mankind's soul perished because of that act."
Price opened his mouth to object, but Ganod continued on..
"Take a similar metaphor in the late 20th century. Your Eugenics wars was much the same idea. The 'children' of mankind. The super-men: Khan, Joachim, and others rose up to deny their 'Creators' and they too perished because of it, marooned for eternity amongst the stars."
Ganod leaned closer a bit.
"Take my own people of Cardassia. We slaved for generations to carve an empire in the backwater of the Galaxy. Our worlds are resource poor, and starvation is not uncommon even in this day and age. Some could say we sold our souls to the Dominion, and in doing so, reaped the whirlwind. Now we find ourselves Personae non grata amongst all peoples......The Federation, the Klingons, the Romulans, the Bajorans........and yes even the Dominion now hate us."
Price listened closely.
"Indeed," Ganod intoned sadly, "I can trace in my people, the very threads of tragedy similar to so many dead-civilizations that I have researched."
The Professor lapsed into melancholy silence, his speech apparently at end, but Price still had no idea as to his purpose for this meeting.
"Professor," the Captain began, "Perhaps you could tell me why you are here."
Ganod's eyes flashed with a sudden fury. "Because you are in great Danger!!" he hissed, "I have spent my life research the dead and the dying civilizations of the Galaxy, and I am trying to tell you that there are rules and laws about such things! Certain unavoidable patterns of collapse and corruption that must be obeyed!!"
"And.....?" Price prompted
"And the Decilians are NOT OBEYING THE RULES!" Ganod insisted menacingly.
Price sat back with a start. "The Decilians?" he asked. How did they get into the conversation.
"Yes, yes the Decilians." Ganod sighed and shook his head. " The one culture in the galaxy that seems to defy the odds and prosper, when every indication seems to pointed towards their imminent demise."
"Now see here Professor..." Price began
"No, Captain you see here!" Ganod insisted. "By every social indicator I understand, the Decilian race should have died out two millennia ago. Dead...gone. But instead. They prosper, they grow....they expand."
"PROFESSOR!!" the General snapped, losing patience with being interrupted, and with the circuitous nature of this conversation. "I am not accustomed to being addressed in this matter on my own Starship. You are here at our convenience...Make your point, and make it quickly 'mate."
Ganod considered the Captain cooly for several moments, before settling back slowly into his chair. When he spoke again, his voice had returned to its smooth somber tones. "My apologies Captain," he said, not sounding at all remorseful. "My point is this. Approximately 2000 years ago about the time Decilia should have been dying, the religion of the 'Word' arose, and in matter of a few months swept the entire planet like wildfire. So profound was it's impact that the century-long downward spiral to destruction was reversed, and prosperity replaced it."
"This means nothing." Price interjected. "A religious principal reversing the self-destructive nature of a people is hardly an original concept. One could consider the embracing of Logic by Vulcans to subdue their own emotional crisis as a similar 'reformation'. "
Ganod waved that excuse aside. "Except the Vulcans were never really in danger of self-destruction, as is so widely believed. The mere fact that the Romulans rejected this 'new religion' and prospered to the point of Empire is proof of this fact." Ganod paused again. "The fact is this religion is a juggernaut. An irresistible force that swept aside all opposition, and nay-sayers within a few months. In short order it became quite literally the dominant force on the planet."
"Again, planet-wide faiths are not uncommon." Price argued.
"True captain, but what is uncommon is a universal faith down to every last man, woman and child. Consider again Earth's own history. What would you say was the dominant religion of your planet?"
Price considered. "Well 'mate. The first real faith of any magnitude would probably be the rise of Christianity from Judaism. Followed closely by Islam, and Buddhism in its various forms. Although nowadays I would suppose atheism is the main 'faith' if you call it such."
"Exactly." Ganod smiled "The fact is there has never been a universal faith on Earth, and there never shall be. As you mentioned even the Dominant faiths of humanity have had their various sects, denominations and splinter groups. Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism....all of these boast several different branches: Baptists, Catholics, Sunni, Shiite, Taoism, Shinto....need I go on? Not all Bajorans believe in the Prophets, and even in the example of Vulcan, you still can find rogue Vulcans who still do not subscribe to the ways of Surak and logic. A laughing Vulcan is hard to find Captain, but they do exist...."
"Are you trying to tell me.....?"
"The 'Word' of Decilia has existed for thousands of years with absolutely NO divisions. Absolutely 100% of all citizens subscribe to this faith wholeheartedly, and all of them believe in 100% of what the so-called Prophetess says. One word, one faith one people speaking from one mouth! Captain, given the infinite diversity of cultures, and emotional make-ups, this is statistically impossible. Someone should be a non-believer somewhere even if just out of pure spite"
"Well maybe a bit rare, but....."
"And its spread to six other planets in the same manner. 100% total conversion with a matter of months. What does that tell you." Ganod delivered the shocker.
Price leaned forward in his chair slowly, a strange feeling of dread tickling at the back of his neck "What exactly are you trying to say Professor?"
The Cardassian answered in low menacing tones. "Simply this Captain. Do you know what manner of creature you have brought on board in this Prophetess? Have you noticed any of your crew, suddenly taken with her teachings? What about delegates on the planet? Once the 'Word' is made known to the Federation.......Do you really think this unstoppable faith will stop at six worlds?"
****Somewhere in the Demilitarized Zone, 2371****
Kael Ryanna arose at dawn from the tangled sheets of her bed in a state of sublime happiness she had not experienced since her early childhood.
Her life had not been an easy one. She had survived the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor by hiding in the hills of Dahkur Province with the resistance, along with her brothers and father. Her mother and her two sisters had been taken away to Terok Nor years before, victims of their own beauty. She did not know if they were alive or dead. Of her three brothers, she was more certain. Ryceene and Ryndal had been killed in action, defending their homeland. Her father had been captured and shipped to an off-world concentration camp. Only she and her older brother Rychord and managed to survive the constant patrols.
They had been lucky, after a fashion. They survived to witness the withdrawal. Together, they decided to make a new life for themselves. They found Bajor held too many painful memories for them, so together, they moved to a new but prosperous colony founded by the Federation, where they returned to farming and cattle raising.
But peace had been a short lived thing. A Federation Treaty with the damnable Cardassians had changed some invisible borders and placed their new world back in brutal enemy hands.
Ryanna saw little option than to take up arms again. She and her brother joined the Maquis right after its inception. Their skills as resistance fighters helped forge a bunch of angry colonists into an effective resistance cell. So effective were their methods, that Ryanna and Rychord agreed to split their cells into two separate independent units. It had been a year since she had seen Rychord in person, though she knew from his secret communications that he was alive and well.
The new war, so soon after the last, had hardened what little was left of Ryanna's heart. She spurned friends, knowing from experience that they were likely to become casualties before the war was over. Her otherwise attractive face seemed to bear a permanent scowl. She made no ties, showed little emotion other than unmitigated hatred for her enemy and focused all her efforts on strengthening her cell and finding new allies and sources of weapons and supplies for the Maquis.
Which is why her current situation had come as such a shock to her system. A wonderful, dizzying unexpected shock. Love was a fool's game and even more so in times of war. And yet, in the most unlikely of times, she had found love with the most unlikely of people.
She reached over and ran her hand through her lover's short, close-cropped black hair. Her finger traced the outline of his ear, running from the lobe up to the pointed tip. She sighed, a smile of satisfaction playing across her face as she remembered their night of quiet but intense lovemaking. He possessed skills she would have never expected from one of his people and his words, while concise and efficient, were spoken with a poet's heart.
"You seem to be attracted to my ears." The man spoke plainly, as he rolled over and ran his eyes appreciatively over her naked body. "I assure you, they are not one of my primary areas of tactile stimulation."
Ryanna laughed and ruffled his hair, a habit that annoyed her dear Vulcan but that he tolerated with loving patience, just like all of her other quirks. "True, we have discovered all of those already, haven't we?" She said with coy laughter.
He sat up suddenly and caught her wrist in his hand. Ryanna let out a startled gasp, which slowly turned into a contented sigh as his hand opened and his splayed fingers intertwined with her own. "Mmmm, that should not feel so good. It must be a crime."
"Actually, it is the abundant nerve receptors in your finger tips coupled with low level telepathic stimulation." He replied.
Ryanna reached out with her other hand and ran it slowly down his hairless well-muscled chest. "And when are you going to let me deeper into that brilliant mind of yours?" She asked. "You must have more up there than strategy and tactics."
"I thought that is why you recruited me in the first place." He replied. "Certainly, it was not as a mate."
Ryanna laughed. "Verack. My dear, sweet Verack. "Of course I recruited you for your knowledge. Why else does one recruit a Vulcan tactical officer?" Before he could reply, she placed a finger across his lips. "But that was then and this is now."
"And what is now?" Verack asked.
She pushed him onto his back and tossed aside the sheets. Straddling his waist, she leaded forward and placed her head on his chest.
"If you are attempting to listen to my heartbeat, you are off by approximately ten centimeters." Verack stated.
She slowly slid back until she could feel his growing arousal against her. "And am I off target now?" She asked with a sly grin.
"Your technique is as precise as always." He replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. Her eyes fluttered closed as they began to move together.
"I want you inside me." She whispered.
"Unless I am grossly mistaken, that interaction began precisely four seconds ago."
"No, inside my mind!" She urged. "Meld with me."
"That would be unwise." Verack stated.
"Do you love me?" She asked.
"With a greater intensity than I have ever known." The Vulcan replied. "However, you are my cell leader. You have knowledge that was not meant to be known to your underlings. A meld will open your thoughts to me and would make me a security risk to the cell. I do not recommend it."
"It is a risk I am willing to take."
"Very well, but under one condition." Verack replied.
"Anything." She whispered in his ear.
"Marry me, Ryanna."
She felt her heart leap in her chest. She replayed his words in her mind, convincing herself that he had actually uttered them. She could have never hoped, never dared to dream that he would ask. She had fantasized about it at night for months as she lay in his arms, but knew that the chances were slim. In spite of their physical attraction, could he, a Vulcan, ever lower his barriers of logic and reason enough to see a bedraggled Bajoran cast-off as his wife? Tears began to well in her eyes.
"You are trembling." He said softly. "If I offended you."
"No, never." She replied, crying and laughing at the same time. "You could never do anything to offend or hurt me."
He stared back at her quietly for a moment. Lost in his thoughts. "In regards to my previous interrogative."
"Yes! Of course, Yes, I'll marry you!" She kissed him full on the lips. And as she pulled back, she saw something on his face she had never seen before. A smile, slowly forming, expressing his own happiness and contentment with the moment. As quickly as it had appeared, it faded, as if he had suddenly become aware of his own discretion.
"No, don't hide it." She said. "Don't hide anything from me. Not any more. Love me. Be one with me."
Verack sighed softly, a tinge of regret coloring his face. His hands moved upwards from the small of her back to her face. He caressed her cheeks and lips gently with his fingertips as his hips moved more urgently against her, eliciting a gasp. The fingers settled into pattern on her forehead, as their eyes closed and the Vulcan began his mantra. "Our thoughts are one. Our minds together. There is no self. Only the one. One heart. One soul. One person.
She opened herself completely to him. He felt the depths of her love for him, the fierce determination with which she fought for her cause. He saw all of her hopes and dreams for the future. He also saw all of her plans. All of her contacts. The names and locations of a half dozen cell leaders. The itinerary of commerce raids for the next three months. The locations of safe houses and storage facilities.
Everything.
Ryanna saw far less, for her lover's defenses were still in place. But she saw enough. Enough to know that something was terribly, terribly wrong. She broke the contact, her face contorted in confusion and despair.
"By the Prophets! What have I done? Who are you?"
"I am Lieutenant Savat of Starfleet. And you, Kael Ryanna, are under arrest." His fingers moved swiftly from her face to the back of her neck. Instantly, before the first of her tears could spatter upon the bed sheets, the darkness overtook her.
*** ***
She awoke in a small featureless room. She knew immediately that she was on a ship, and from the familiar hum of a force shield, that she was incarcerated.
In the final instant before she had lost consciousness, she had wished herself dead. But that wish, like her earlier wish for love and happiness, had been taken from her. She was worse than dead, she thought, she was an empty shell, drained of everything that had made her what she was by a man she had trusted with her heart. A man who continued to watch her. Even with her back to the force shield, she could feel his presence.
"How long?" She asked.
"Twenty eight hours, thirty seven minutes." Savat replied from his vantage point just outside the cell.
She turned slowly, almost afraid to look at him. She tried to remain defiant, but she was simply too drained. "I suppose it would be safe to assume I am on my way to a more permanent home."
"That is entirely up to the Federation courts." Savat stated. He stared at her impassively, like he was giving a lecture on stellar anomalies to some first year cadets.
They stared at each other in silence for two minutes. Finally, she took a step towards the force shield, placing herself inches away from her lover and captor.
"Was it all lies, all of it?" She asked. "Just a strategy to complete a mission?"
"It was what was required of me to carry out my duty."
"I do not believe you." She said.
"I am not prone to prevarication." Savat responded.
"Except for everything you said to me, everything you promised me. Damnit! How can you be a Vulcan? You are a monster!"
"Everything I said and did was true for Verack, the identity I have been portraying for the last four months." Savat said. "I acted completely within the confines of the character as he was defined."
She threw herself against the field with a shout, only to be tossed back into the center of the cell. She slowly stood, massaging her shoulder. "No one, not even you, whoever you are, are that good. When we melded, you held back most of your thoughts, but not all of them. I saw enough to know I had been betrayed. I also saw enough to know that your feelings were genuine."
"A misinterpretation." Savat stated.
She strode up to the field once again and locked her gaze on him. "Who are you now? Are you still Verack, or are you this Savat person, if that is even your real name?"
"The Verack template has outlived his usefulness and has been retired. I am simply Savat.
"So then tell me, Savat." Ryanna said in a tone filled with challenge. "Tell me now, as your true Vulcan self. Tell me that I mean nothing to you. Tell me that when we made love, when you proposed to me, that it was all an act. Tell me you feel nothing."
Savat stood quietly, carefully mulling over his words. "My feelings are irrelevant to the situation at hand."
"Look me in the eye and say, Ryanna, I do not, nor ever have, truly loved you."
"My presence is obviously distressing to you." Savat replied. "I will appoint a different guard for you." He turned on his heel and began to walk away.
"Coward!" She shouted, choking back tears.
Savat froze in his tracks. He turned and strode purposefully towards the cell. "Computer by my order, cease brig surveillance and lower force shield." Moments later, he was toe to toe with her, their eyes locked. She hauled back and slapped him across the face with all her might, causing him to flinch slightly. She reared her hand back for another strike, but he caught it in mid air.
As their fingers intertwined, she felt the current and eddies of his thoughts running though her and she knew the truth. Tears started streaming down her face. "Then why?" she asked.
"Because of duty. And because it was the logical thing to do."
She backed away from him, her face flushed. "You and your logic can go to hell!"
"I am already in hell." Savat replied calmly. "A hell of my own construction. With time, and meditation, I hope to find my way back out. Hopefully, you can do the same for yourself."
She reached up and unclasped her family earring and tossed it to the Vulcan. "Take this. My gift to you. Look at it from time to time and remember what you did and what you are capable of."
"Ryanna, I."
"Get out." She said venomously.
"Let me express my most sincere."
"Get out, Damn you!!!" She screamed. She turned her back on him and walked to the far end of the cell.
****Dakhur Province, Bajor, Present Day****
Savat sat at the carved wooden table, enjoying a plate of home made Hasperat, served to him by the elderly Bajoran woman who was his host.
"Where did they send my niece?" She asked.
"Regrettably, she never arrived at her final destination." Savat replied. "She was transferred at DS9 to a runabout bound for a penal colony in the Sol system. That vessel was attacked and destroyed by the Klingons during our brief conflict prior to the Dominion war. I never had the chance to meet or speak with her again. With my current assignment taking me to Bajor, I felt it a worthwhile endeavor to seek out Ryanna's family and let them know of her fate. You were the closest living relative I could find."
"I appreciate your efforts and your candor." The elderly woman replied. "And I hold no grudge against you."
Savat reached into his pocket and removed a small wooden box, opened it and placed it upon the table. "This contains the earring Ryanna gave me during our final moments of conversation. I believe she once mentioned it was a family heirloom."
The woman chuckled softly to herself as she checked on a pot of boiling mazo stalks she was preparing for the next course.. "Are you certain she wants it back?"
Savat arched his eyebrow. "I'm afraid I do not understand."
"The story you have told is one I have heard before, though admittedly from a different perspective. And I admire your courage in coming here to tell it. But the ending contained some inaccuracies."
"Please elaborate." Savat requested.
The door to the small farm house swung open and a woman entered, dressed in a simple blouse and skirt, common to the rural farming provinces.
"Aunt Ilzia! I got the fresh Jumja sap! I. Oh, you have company, I didn't realize that." Her words trailed off as she stared at the mysterious stranger, unfamiliar to her in his Decilian prosthetics. She took a tentative step forward and cocked her head to one side in curiosity. Then her eyes trailed down to the table, and the open wooden box with the ornate earring, and her groceries tumbled from her hands.
"You!" She said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Savat was at a loss for words as his mind tried to process the unexpected development. There was no good strategy, no logical solution, to guide him. It was enough simply to keep his emotions in check and his face impassive.
"Hello Ryanna."
JOINT POST WITH.......
=/\= Lt. Commander Surok
=/\=Lt. j/g Rebecca von Ernst
(Turboshaft)
The two fellow turbolift castaways conversed extensively on the subjects of mathematical models for tactical solutions and enumerating performance variables for potential foes. While they talked math and starship tactics, Rebecca seemed more at ease with the Vulcan 'commander.
"Well, in unspoiled subspace that is the case. But... um... you can't leave out the quantum effects of previous warp-damage to subspace in the regions around core worlds," Von Ernst explained to the senior officer. "I mean, that is to say... er..."
"Sol," the Vulcan interjected. "You are referring to the damage done by multiple high warp incidents in the immediate vicinity of Earth's sun."
Rebecca nodded, tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and then returned her hand to its position clutched around her knees which were pulled up to her chest. "No fewer than four so-called 'slingshot maneuvers' around Sol in order to breach a 'time barrier'. All done at high warps and under conditions of high ambient subspace stress."
Surok blinked. He was seated on the floor in order to make the lieutenant more comfortable. She had shown evidence of neck strain from staring up at him when they first realized their wait would be a long one. He was cross-legged and sitting up straight as a fencepost. "Please continue. How do you calculate for the effects of..."
As they talked, Surok committed everything to memory. There were several unfinished theories that he wanted to pursue. He felt an intense curiosity about the workings of lieutenant' Von Ernst's brain. She was unlike a normal Human. Her emotional control seemed entirely nonexistant. But her grasp of polydimensional abstract calculation was superior to his own.
He found himself thinking that, were it not for the extreme danger her emotional state posed, he might have asked for a meld to better understand her equations.
********
In the end all things must come to an end.
Lifeforms breathe their last breath and slip away into the afterlife...... Planets cool off and dry up leaving behind vast expanses of empty waste....... Stars shed their outer shell and are reborn in a nebula of colors.....or sink down into their own weight, descending into the infinity of Hell.........
.....and people stuck in elevators eventually get freed.
With a lurch and a whoosh, the doors to the Turbolift opened and the bright light of the passageway pierced into the dimness that had been Rebecca and Surok's world for the last hour or so.
Blinking back painful tears, Rebecca painfully stood to her feet, shaking out the pins and needles from her legs. ~Oww, been sitting too long.~ she thought.
A small mob of engineers stood in semi-circle around the Lift, faces tinged with sweat, and an occasional swab of grease.
(Apparantly this had been the Queen Mother of All Elevator Malfunctions.)
The young girl and the Vulcan ran the gauntlet of Engineers, Rebecca profusely thanking them for their efforts while nervously pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. The experience of being locked up in such close quarters with a male had been nerve-fraying enough, and now the smiling eyes of the Engineers added to the stress. Obviously a few were running whimsical scenarios through their heads.
Quickly leaving the crowd behind, Rebecca had to step lively to keep up with Surok's long-legged strides. The Vulcan glided down the central passagway in silence, hands clasped behind his back, not glancing either left nor right.
"Ummmmm..."Rebecca began in a whisper, walking hard to keep up, "Where are we going?"
Surok did not turn to face her but replied smoothly, "To Ten Forward to obtain refreshments while we collaborate. I assume that our original plans, while delayed, were still on the agenda."
Hurrying beside him, Rebecca scrunched her nose and simple said, "Oh...."
********
Ten Forward was busy. Duty was light for much of the crew while orbiting Bajor, so people from all four shifts found time to meet in the lounge for drinks.
Surok spotted a table next to a viewport. The occupants were standing and turning to head for the exit. He stepped up to the table just as an ensign also arrived from another direction. The junior officer, recognizing the 'commander's rank, suddenly changed his mind about sitting at the prime table. He didn't pull out a chair for Rebecca, nor did he wait for her to sit before he did so himself.
~See? It's not a date!~ she repeated to herself. Rebecca watched Surok take a fresh cloth serviette from a nearby table. He handed it to her once she was seated, saying, "You may wish to wipe your eyes and nose."
She took the cloth. ~Damn! What do I know about Vulcan chivalry?~ Wasn't it odd the way the Vulcan watched her so intently? Rebecca recalled the ancient saying about not telling the players without a program. Was there a program that listed Surok, lieutenant commander? she wondered.
Avoiding his eye contact, the freckle-faced girl looked around the lounge. It looked like 'couples night'. Everywhere she looked there were pairs of women and men sharing small tables. She blushed prettily, Love was definitely in the air.
Electra left Ten Forward and swayed down the corridor to the turbolift. She was feeling fine after six triple scotches. Of course they were syntheholic but she had no need to shake off the alcoholic haze, so it was just like a regular drunk. She waited for the turbolift to arrive and gazed at the panel next to the doors. It was fascinating. It held her attention as if her life hung in the balance. The lights of the panel amazed her fogged mind. She was captivated until the swishing doors caught her ear and she entered the lift.
"Take me to deck.uh.hold on." She couldn't remember where her quarters were located. < Please state destination. > "Deck 3, yeah let's try that. Take me to deck three. I want to go home." The lift began moving now that it had a destination and Electra watched the lights as they passed floor after floor. It was awe inspiring to her that each light knew exactly when to pulse in order to keep that steady flow going. ~ Those lights must have a stern commander. They never falter. They don't stop. They do exactly what they are supposed to and no mistakes come in their shifts. ~
The lift doors opened and she walked into the corridor looking around. There was a door nearby, a large door. She went to it and squinted at the writing on it. 'Cargo Bay 2'.
~ Cargo Bay 2? Why did I come here again? I don't live here. Cargo bay? ~ She wandered back to the lift and waited feeling a cool breeze on her neck. The lift doors opened and she boarded. "Ensign Electra Reece's quarters." The lift opened its doors and she exited. "Way a mina. Thiss is where I jush wash. I know those doorsh. Thash cargo bay do." She turned around and waited for the lift again. After two more tries, she finally ended up on the correct deck and not deck 4, feeling cold air on her neck each time she waited for the lift. She entered her quarters, walked to her bed and said aloud, "I should tell shomun abut that malfuxshun. Reece to." Electra couldn't decide who to call and passed out before her beleaguered brain could come up with a name or any explanation for the malfunction of the turbolift.
*** Bridge ***
Surok entered the Bridge. It wasn't his usual shift, but events were unusual. A banquet in Madame Kiye's honor was scheduled to begin shortly, and senior officers were all scheduled to attend it. Even Surok was on the guest list. But, he had little trouble convincing commander Thomas to let him skip the festivities in favor of pulling a double shift running the ship.
Surok was surprised by commander Thomas's swift acquiescence. Generally speaking, senior officers were not allowed to skip diplomatic events. He sensed that the XO was distracted by other matters. The captain and the commander were not yet ready for the dinner. They were in a private conference with a visiting archeologist and his assistant.
Surok had heard the scientist was quite renowned in his field and a bit eccentric. The ops chief was not well versed in archeological matters, but he would agree that Ganod's behavior was worthy of the description 'eccentric.'
The Vulcan approached the center seat. "Doctor Maas, you are relieved to attend the banquet. I will be in command for the remainder of Beta and for Gamma shift. With your permission, sir," he completed formally.
Commander Jeral Maas smiled, "Thank you, 'commander. Shall I send some food to the bridge?"
Surok looked around at the other Bridge officers, some of whom had eager expressions as they watched the conversation. He replied, "It is illogical to attach special significance to food served at a banquet that can be reconstructed at will by replicators in the officers' mess. I do not wish to negatively impact the performance of our crew."
The doctor appeared disappointed by the Vulcan's answer. "There are many gourmet dishes being prepared with fresh ingredients brought up from Bajor. Many of the dishes on the menu cannot be replicated." Stubbornly, yet with good humor, Jeral negated Surok's refusal. "I'll simply send some items up to the Conference Lounge for the bridge crew, which they can try while their backups take over their stations."
Mister Surok reacted neutrally. "Very well, commander. Thank you for your consideration."
The doctor left the Bridge to get his dress whites for dinner. Surok settled into the captain's chair and quickly reconfigured the small panel to his liking. He could call up the current status on every system; however, instead he asked for an update from the crew.
Science was looking into some geological disturbances, but otherwise all was quiet on the bridge. Without looking, Surok knew that the duty ops officer was ensign Johnathan Drake. The ensign was proving to be a fine officer who performed adequately. Surok began an in-depth analysis of the ensign's performance for the current duty shift.
He wasn't always able to give his full attention to individual performance. But, after 'commander Jamson's recent breakdown the chief began to wonder if he could have foreseen the other officer's weakened mental state and prevented the attack on lieutenant Sanchez.
Location: Main Office, Brig, USS Galaxy
Raven could only stare in disbelief at the list of objects on the padd that had been compiled by Ensign Sierra to help keep Leo off track. Surely she had consumed at least 17 bottles of Romulan Ale before sitting down to plot this lunacy. He felt as if he were going on some sort of scavenger hunt from back in his cadet days at the Acadamy.
When this is over, I'm going to kill her - he thought.
Leo seemed almost giddy over finally having thier mission laid out before them.
"Lemmie see, lemmie see! What do we have to look at? huh? huh? Where are the bastards hiding, eh?" He said jumping repeatedly in half hearted attempts to grab the padd from the large indian. Raven just looked down at him with his customary scowl firmly in place.
"Leo please." he said impatiently.
"Alright, alright, alright. I know. The mission." he said, calming himself and smoothing his jacket. This got Raven to let the padd lower just enough that Leo sprung up again and this time snatched it out of the man's hand.
"Yeah! Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, big man!" Leo said racing around the opposite side of the desk and looking at the list.
Raven didnt see what would be gained by retrieving the padd and breaking Leo's arms in several places. The little weasle had to see the damned list sometime. He had other things to think about now. Like what he would conjur up when Sierra came to him sometime in the future for help.
Leo broke his fantasy when he started reading the list.
1- The blue coral from Spiner's tank in the sickbay
Raven cringed just listening to Leo recite such insane objects. He and Sierra were definitly going to have to have a chat when this was over. "Protien storage vats"? He didnt even know what the hell those were. Why security - he asked himself. maybe he could change his department to something less stressful like counceling or perhapse he would just become the cook in the ten foreward. He could hide in the kitchen all shift and never see Leo or Sierra or....
Leo snapped his fingers repeatedly. " Hey you with me buddy? This is no time to space out on me. The fate of the free universe is in our hands. Geez, you see where these snakes have themselves? Nothing on this ship is sacred. They're everywhere! Like cockroaches!"
Raven just turned his large frame and leaned his head against wall using herculean restraint to keep from banging it with his skull in a desperate attempt to wake from this nightmare.
Leo just stared with genuine interest. " What is that, like some Native American calling upon your forefathers head thing? I never seen anyone do that before but if it helps you remember the list, then by all means, become one with whatever you are being one with."
Raven whirled around slowly and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before speaking.
"Leo ....I was just resting my head trying to regain my focus for the...difficult task ahead. And for god sakes, im an Indian. Give the Native american crap a rest will you."
"Ok, ok, ok! Sure, I got it. Some people are just a bit sensitive is all." Leo said waving both hands in the air.
Raven brought himself up to his full intimidating hight and in a deep rumbling voice asked: " Leo, do I look sensitive to you?"
" Well yes...i mean no .. you ...hell i donno! Jeez. Don't we have to go save the ship from these things or something?" he asked a bit flustered. and a touch embarassed.
Raven took a bit of selfish pleasure in seeing leo squirm for a change. He savored it a bit longer before finally speaking.
"Your right. The sooner we get through this....list, the sooner we can report to Agent Sierra and I am sooo looking foreward to our next face to face chat."
"Me too. You wanna know what i noticed when shes around? know what I think? I think she's sweet on me, if ya know what i mean, ok? She just devours me with her gaze. You notice that?" he said shaking his head slowly.
"That...was one of the very first observations that I had." Raven said sarcasticly.
Leo paused for a minute and looked at Raven. He pointed to him with the padd.
"Ya know your pretty sharp. You got a good eye for detail and great people skills. Your approach is a bit rough but it works for ya. If this security gig doesnt pan out, you'd make a great journolist."
"Thank you , Leo. I'll endevor to keep that in mind. Meanwhile, I think we better address our mission."
"Yeah yeah! Right, ok. Gotcha. So we gonna have to eat this now or what are we gonna do with it?"
Raven's eyes bulged out. " Did Agent Sierra instruct you to eat the padd?" If she did, she drew her last breath. One can only tiptoe on the minefield for so long - he thought.
"Actually she wanted us both to do it, but she said she'd leave it to our discretion. So where do ya wanna put it?"
Raven immediatly thought of one place in particular which would be neither comfortable nor physically possible. Batting back his thoughts he grabbed the padd and locked it in the desk drawer.
"Yeah, great idea. i would....Hey waitaminute! " he said moving over to Raven and whispering in his ear. "What if the desk is a changeling too?"
Raven frowned. "Did you see a desk on the List, Leo?"
"Oh Yeah ok, ok. The list right. Nope. No desk. The desk is good. So what do we do first? The rock, the rabbit, the chair? Your probibly worried about your own quarters first. Id be if i were you thinking that those slimy creeps were perched right under your...while you...geez, they could..."
Raven just glared at Streely. A glare with such fierceness that it could have diverted nearly every asteroid at Ursid with its power. Leo for once recognized the need to back down and hushed up while backing up and thrusting out his hand .
"Ok, Ok, Ok, OK! no need for that, partner. We need to now plot our first strike. What do you think we should do first?"
Raven looked at the ridiculous attire. "First and foremost, please go to your quarters and find something appropriate for this mission. Meet me back here in ten minutes. Sharp." he warned.
"Got ya. Ten minutes in work cloths. Ok! Ill be back in ten. Set the ships crono by me!" The little man said racing out the door.
Raven just sat back dorn in his chair. He listened to the silence that filled the room. He could feel the onset of a migraine headache as well. By his count he had only eight minutes and 34 seconds of sanity left to enjoy.
It was sermon day again on board the USS Galaxy. Madam Kiye, holding her commanding presence despite her repulsor chair, excitedly told the gathered masses on the Galaxy about “The Word”. People gathered into the gymnasium (it was the only available large space at the time) to listen to the Prophetess tell her tales of “The Word”.
Ensign Corgan, like many of the security officers on board, was assigned the boring if important duty of protecting the Prophetess from anyone that wanted to see her dead. After Lt.Commander Jamson attacked Lt. Sanchez for unknown reasons inside the holodeck. At first, Ensign Corgan thought he was taking the Klingon wanna-be thing a bit too far, but later, everyone in security upped their alertness, including the honor guard. Something strange was happening, and James didn’t like it.
Not only this, he was worried about “The Word”. It was unlike any religion that he has ever seen. He has been exposed to Christianity, The Prophets and many others, but nowhere did he see a religion convert so many people in such a short time. Already, people on the Galaxy were reading “The Word”, and for some reason were feeling euphoric about it. It baffled him to the core, and when something baffled him, it gave him the creeps.
Ensign Corgan felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise with each word being recited. He didn’t like “The Word”, and he didn’t want to hear anymore of it. He didn’t understand why he was the only one unaffected by Madam Kiye’s stirring speech.
Not only did it bring a sense of unease in Ensign Corgan, it also brought up memories that he didn’t like to bring up in the first place. They were a number of close calls towards death or some form of damnation that he couldn’t explain. He remembered the Borg again, it’s glassy eye and optical implant staring back at him, the claw like appendage grasping his neck, the waving twin tubes from the other arms and the anticipation of death. It was the exact same feeling that he felt around Madam Kiye when she spoke “The Word”.
Then, he remembered another religion based incident that left him scared. It was on board the USS Calgary, an old Excelsior Class vessel that he was raised on. He remembered the ship’s Chaplain, a Christian fellow in his mid 60’s, and one of the few Chaplains in Starfleet. Rumors floated around the ship that involved the Sunday sermon that he held every week. Then, one day, when he was alone in the Chapel, the old Chaplain walked up to him. The Chaplain then tried to grab James by the neck, but he was much quicker than the old man when he was 5 years old. He then ran off into the ship, and never seen the Chaplain since. Last he heard, the Chaplain transferred to Earth, probably to run away from the ship before James told his story. What made him scared the most was the fact that he didn’t know what the Chaplain would do to him, though he has heard stories….
The words for the stories could not even form in his mind. They were so horrific to him that he couldn’t come up with the word, and he choose not to. Instead, he had the feeling, like death touching him on the shoulder, like fear creeping down his back.
Just like the feeling he felt when Madam Kiye talked about “The Word”.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he presumed his duty of watching Madam Kiye. She ended her sermon, to the delight of himself.
“There’s more to “The Word” than hope.” He thought, “’Hope’ is used in ‘The Word’ like a veil, hiding something even deeper and darker within. What is the catch to this Word? What is she really saying to the masses?”
Captain Price was growing short with the Cardassian Archeologist, renown Professor Ganod, and his elusive speculation about the Decilian religion.
Behind the Professor, his young assistant just stood by silently, head and eyes lowered much as a servant in the company of their master.
"What exactly are you trying to say Professor?" Lee asked pointedly.
The Cardassian answered in low menacing tones. "Simply this Captain. Do you know what manner of creature you have brought on board in this Prophetess? Have you noticed any of your crew, suddenly taken with her teachings? What about delegates on the planet? Once the 'Word' is made known to the Federation.......Do you really think this unstoppable faith will stop at six worlds?"
Lee reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He then slowly removed his hand and gave Ganod that boyish Australian smile the Captain had become famous for. With a slight laugh, the Captain said, "You come to warn that 'the Word' may spread throughout the Federation? Excuse me Professor, but I hardly consider that to be the threat that you are making it out to be. Even if this religion were to spread as you are suggesting, would that really be such a bad thing? I admit I am no expert on 'the Word', but from what little I do know of the Decilian religion, is that it is one of peace, not war."
Ganod let out a condescending sign. "I see I will have to spell it out for you Captain. I was hoping you would be one of greater vision. All religion, with their splendors and promises of hope and happiness have a darker side. History is filled with examples of so called peaceful religions resulting in massive wars and struggles for power. Look at your own history on the planet Earth. Were not men and women executed in a period known as the Crusades in the name of expanding Christianity? Didn't the nations of your early industrial period slaughter millions over a plot of near worthless land that they deemed holy? But I digress."
Captain Price watched as Ganod held his hand over his shoulder while standing otherwise perfectly still and staring into Lee's eyes. The Professor's young assistant quickly reached into a leather pouch and pulled out what looked to be an ancient scroll and handed it to Ganod.
"Thank you my dear." The Professor stated taking the scroll. He then addressed the Captain while carefully untying the braided red cord that secured the scroll.
"What do you know of an item known as 'The Stone of Tears' Captain?" Ganod asked.
The General leaned back in his chair. First a lengthy discussion on the evils of religion and now a question on some crying stone the Captain had never heard of. Where was the Professor going with this? Lee wondered.
"I can't say that I have 'mate. Why don't you enlighten me... quickly." The Captain asked. His shortening patience evident in his tone.
Ganod smiled thinly. "Of course Captain." The Cardassian was a twisted man. His eyes reflected the intensity of a soldier more than that of an Archeologist. That deep, peering, thousand yard stare of someone who could kill if the need suited him. The very look gave Lee the chills.
"The legend of 'the Stone of Tears' predates even Cardassian history. It's powers are foretold in the ancient scrolls to allow the possessor of the stone to access it's special powers and influence others in a most unnatural way." The Professor told while opening the scroll and spreading it out on the Captain's desk.
Lee peered at the old appearing text. It was written in Cardassian, so he was unable to decipher what the symbols meant. Instead following the Professor's interpretation as he spoke.
"Among these powers include the ability to influence and even manipulate the will of others to do the wielder's bidding. For the last three thousand years, this 'Stone of Tears' has been in the possession of the one serving as Prophetess on Decilia VII. Tell me Captain, are you really going to sit there and tell me that you don't find this even more curious that this powerful artifact has been in the possession of the leader of this religion and that absolutely 100% of all citizens subscribe to this faith and do the bidding of this Prophetess? Surely you can't be that naive."
Lee looked at the scroll, though he couldn't actually read the dusty text, and then up into Ganod's eyes. Though hard and icy, the Archeologist had made a valid point. The success rate of 'the Word' was remarkable given the spread to seven worlds, but to learn that this artifact existed and was in the possession of the highest leader of that religion at the time did sound a bit too coincidental to be discounted. "This is all based on speculation Professor. This 'Stone of Tears' you speak of may be nothing more then a legend. Some sort of folklore. The way you describe it, it sounds mythical. I'm not prepared to start believing in some magical stone just yet 'mate."
Again Ganod gave his controlling smile. It was the sort of smile one gives who is keeping a secret and about to share it. "Would you like to see a picture of the Stone of Tears Captain Price?..."
Lee gave a nod. He figured he'd listened to the Professor this long, he may as well see this to the end.
Holding his hand out again, Ganod soon received a large leather book from his assistant. This was a bound book, probably a few hundred years old; not nearly as old as the scroll he read from before. Running his hands along the dark brown leather cover, Ganod seemed to be admiring the item, like it was a precious treasure more valuable then gold pressed latinum.
"I acquired this text not too long ago. It is hand written by the Inherent Mother of Decilia VII of the time. You see, three hundred and sixty three years ago there was a tragic flood on Decilia VII. The entire Cathedral and surrounding city was hit by a Tsunami from an offshore seismic tremor. Many buildings collapsed, including the library in which this book was kept. A visitor found the book; water soaked, covered in mud and kept it thinking the binding could fetch a good price when he returned to his home. Little did he know what treasure he had found. I uncovered the book just a few months ago in an ancient burial vault of the First Hebitian civilization on Cardassia. No doubt that visitor to Decillia VII had traded the book with my ancient ancestors long ago. Probably for a weeks worth of food rations or other such token fee for the priceless item..."
Captain Price just looked at the Professor with a dead-pan expression. Lee was wondering how long the Cardassian Archeologist would spend admiring the beat up book's leather covering before he opened it.
"Soon as I looked inside I knew I had the proof that I needed. Here, see for yourself Captain."
Ganod opened the book, and turned to a page that showed a picture of a rather unattractive amulet that was attached to a simple metal chain, meant to be worn around the neck.
As soon as the Captain saw the picture, he immediately recognized the amulet as the stone Madame Kiye was constantly fondling about her neck. Lee couldn't help but express interest upon seeing the amulet in this old book.
"I *have* seen this before 'mate. Madame Kiye wears it about her neck. This is the Stone of Tears?" the Captain asked.
"Yes Captain!, Some believe the artifact originates from Iconia. I however believe it actually was created later then that period, most likely by the Dinasians. The true origin may never be known however without further study. But the Stone is real Captain. And Madame Kiye will use it to expand her power throughout the alpha quadrant if you allow her to do so."
Again Lee took a deep breath. The Professor had given him something to think about... finally. But the Captain still had a hard time believing that this Stone of Tears, even if it was a real and historic artifact, was actually a tool to bestow mind control powers to the Prophetess. "I must admit, you do seem to have evidence to support your claim that this amulet exists and is real. However proving that a piece of jewelry is real and that it has mystical powers is an entirely different matter 'mate."
Ganod closed his book and handed it back to his little aid who stowed it away without saying a word. Picking up the ancient scroll, the Professor began carefully rolling the delicate text back upon it's roller bindings, speaking while looking at his life's work. "How blind you are Captain. It is inconceivable that so many people on so many worlds would so willingly and blindly follow the ways of this one religion if it were not for the powers of this artifact. I imagine that even now she is weaving her web of influence with the members of your crew. With those on Bajor. With the negotiation delegates of the Federation. I assure you that the Prophetess will arrange a quite favorable deal with the Federation, for one day the entire Alpha quadrant will bow to her every whim if she is allowed to retain the Stone of Tears and wield it's mystical powers to bend the will of others to do her bidding. That is why we must put a stop to it! We must get this evil artifact of ancient technology and destroy it so that the Prophetess may not manipulate the minds of those around her to serve her own, selfish desires and political agenda."
"I'm sorry Professor. I just have a hard time believing that the Prophetess, Madame Kiye, is capable of doing that which you accuse her of. She seems like a pleasant, though somewhat over enthusiastic evangelist to me 'mate."
Again that thin lipped, smug Cardassian smile. "Of course she does Captain. She would be able to make you believe she appears however she wants you to see her. The powers of the Stone of Tears are only effective when used on someone unaware of the artifact's influence. Now that I have revealed the secret of the stone, the Madame's influence will no longer affect you Captain. Assuming you have the strong willpower to resist the effects. That is how the stone works you see. The Prophetess seeks out those who are lacking in one regard or another. It could be low self esteem, or having suffered the loss of a loved one, or simply a desire to believe in something... *anything*, to give meaning to one's existence. The Prophetess can then tune in and fill that void with hope by using the powers of the Stone of Tears. And in so doing, she obtains control over her subjects who in time become brainwashed to do her every bidding. This is how Madame Kiye, and Madame Padiah, and Madame Trishka, and every Madame before back to Madame Lonites who wrote the book of The Word, have managed to make total converts out of the people of seven worlds." Ganod paused, looking at the Captain a moment, "Tell me Captain, have any of your crew taken a liking to the Prophetess?"
"I would say that the Prophetess and the Inherent Mother have made a good impression on the crew Professor. They are very kind, spiritual people. What is not to like?" the Captain stated candidly.
"Oh do beware Captain. Like the taspar that lays dormant through the winter season, only to awaken and lay it's eggs in the spring, so does this Prophetess seed the way for her future disciples. When the time comes she will activate this dormant army and they will assist her in doing her bidding." Professor Ganod paused after he spoke. He could see that he was not getting anywhere with the Captain. This Price was indeed a strong willed, intelligent man. It would take more tact to persuade him to the correct line of thinking.
"May I make a suggestion Captain?"
"By all means Professor Ganod." Lee prompted.
"You are wise to be skeptical. Skepticism is the beginning of enlightenment. The first step in shedding the blanket of naiveté and seeing the truth for what it is. Now that I have told you all of this... about the history of the Stone of Tears, of the unprecedented success of this religion 'The Word' on every world it has touched, of the generations of Prophetess' that have used the amulet's powers to advance their position and political power in the Decilia system,... now that I have exposed you to these things, do be cautious when dealing with Madame Kiye. Watch her Captain. Listen to how she manipulates those she speaks too. Observe how your crew and the delegates from the Federation behave when under her influence. See how she draws upon the powers of the Stone of Tears to bend their will to serve her own. Then you will know what a danger she truly is, and why you must assist me in getting the stone and destroying it before it is too late."
Lee didn't know what to think. This Cardassian Archeologist was certainly an interesting, if not somewhat spooky character. He did however appear to know what he was talking about regarding this ancient artifact, the Stone of Tears. The picture he had shown the Captain was the exact same stone Madame Kiye wore around her neck, and Lee did recall the Prophetess' constant habit of touching the stone while she spoke. He'd thought it to be a nervous habit, but now he wasn't so sure. Still, he wasn't certain he was going to believe in mystic powers that this stone was supposed to posses. But again, Ganod had pointed out the thoroughness in which the Word had spread throughout the Decilian system. That couldn't just be dismissed without further study and investigation.
"Well 'mate, you have certainly given me something to think about Professor. I can't say that I am completely convinced of the powers of this stone you speak of, or that the Prophetess is the evil manipulator you are making her out to be. However I can see that indeed the amulet Madame Kiye wears does resemble this Stone of Tears you've uncovered in these ancient texts, so there may be some merit to your argument."
"Do not forget the wide spread acceptance of the Decilian religion Captain. That alone should be all the proof one needs to see that something here is not right." Ganod reminded, coming full circle to how the conversation began.
"I can tell you that I will be on guard, and will look into these things you have brought to my attention 'mate." Lee stated standing up.
"Thank you Captain." Professor Ganod stated humbly, bowing his head slightly as the Captain stood. Looking back into the Captain's eyes, Ganod added, "If I may make one small request?"
"Certainly Professor." Lee stated evenly.
"If I may be permitted to remain on board the Galaxy for a few days. I am certain that when you look into these things, you will come to find that I am correct in all of my predictions and speculations. You will require my skills in order to see that the Stone of Tears is destroyed. The artifact is nearly indestructible, except for those that understand it's powers and it's weaknesses." Ganod stated patting the ancient scrolls he had stored under his arm.
Lee wasn't thrilled about having a Cardassian on board the ship while they were in orbit around Bajor. Especially since the negotiations at the Federation embassy were of a high impact nature and likely not something the Cardassian government would take a liking to. The thought that Professor Ganod could be a spy had crossed the Captain's mind, but only briefly. Ganod was too well versed as an Archeologist and seemed too driven, and too enthralled with his work to be anything else but a Professor of Archeology.
"I think that can be arranged Professor. I'm sure that Doctor Munroe will be pleased she will have a chance to spend more time with you and discuss your papers on Archeology. She seems to have followed your career quite extensively." Lee smiled diplomatically.
Ganod didn't reciprocate. His expression remained even and serious. "Yes I will look forward to that Captain. Thank you. If you might arrange quarters for me and my aid, that would be fine."
"Fair dinkum 'mate. Come, I'll escort you myself." Lee motioned.
The Captain, Professor Ganod and his small assistant walked out the ready room, across the bridge and into the turbolift. Soon they were on one of the residential decks walking to the guest quarters the Captain had selected.
While the Captain walked with Professor Ganod and his aid, they talked about the Archeologist's work. Ganod was passionate about it. He really enjoyed the details of being a finder of lost souls as he so poetically put it. As the three walked through the corridors, they drew looks from various crew members, though they didn't stop or question the Captain and his guests.
"Here we are 'mate. You and your aid will be just fine in here." The Captain stated entering the guest suite. "There is a replicator over there. There area few Cardassian recipes programmed in, thanks to Door, the ship's Cardassian bartender, as well as a wide variety of other dishes from various cultures."
Ganod smiled weakly. "Thank you Captain. I'm sure we will manage."
"Fair dinkum 'mate. I'll let Doctor Munroe know you will be staying on board as my guest. She can arrange to get you access to the science labs if you should require it."
"Thank you Captain." Ganod nodded once again.
"G'day 'mate." Lee smiled and then exited the guest quarters.
When the doors swished closed, the vein of civility quickly washed from Ganod's face. His expression dropped and a certain glint formed in his eyes. "And that easily we complete the first step." The Professor took the leather bag from his assistant and extracted the book he had shown Price earlier. Flipping it open, he looked at the picture of the Stone of Tears. With a smile he began speaking to himself more so than his assistant. "Soon I shall posses you my ancient, beautifully elusive treasure. And when I do, I shall return to Cardassia and reclaim my greatness once again..."
****
*** a short time earlier, in the corridor outside the residential decks ***
"Okay, Okay, Okay... The second item is Lieutenant Zonhieb's sleeping rock. How hard can that be to find? A rock?, piece of cake! His quarters have to be on this deck somewhere..." Leo Streely, super journalist and now covert super-secret special operations agent, stated.
Raven cringed. Though a morose part of him really wanted to see Seth eat this little dweeb, he just couldn't help but want to avoid the amount of paperwork that would involve. At least that's' what he kept telling himself in his mind. "Leo, maybe we should skip to item number three..."
"No, no, no... You see I have a system. Everything in it's proper order and in it's proper place. We goes down the list. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... Just like that. This will be easy. I mean a rock... how hard can it be getting a rock from some smuck with a name like Zonhieb?"
Raven smiled slightly as the image of Streely's skinny legs sticking out of the Gorn security officer's mouth... all that's left of the reporter after Seth eats him, flashed through his mind. Lieutenant' Darkstar's melancholy was quickly interrupted when he saw the Captain walking down the corridor with two Cardassians no less.
"SERIOUSLY, I think we should skip to item number three Streely, common I know just where Cadet Cloaking Device keeps her rabbit." Raven placed his hands on Leo's shoulder's to try and turn him around before he saw the Captain and his Cardassian companions. With all the trouble he and Ensign Sierra had put into keeping the reporter occupied, the last thing he needed was for Leo to get wind of what was seriously going on onboard the ship.
Unfortunately he was a bit too late. "No, no, no... In order like I said. One, two, three... Say!, isn't that the Captain with two Cardassians?... what are they doing on board the ship?... First we went through the wormhole, and now there's Cardassians on the ship..."
"Common, we can't interrupt the Captain. Let's go and do the list backwards. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one..." Raven insisted, turning the smaller statured reporter around and literally pushing him down the corridor out of sight and earshot of the Captain and his guests.
Leo struggled to look back over his shoulder, pointing at the tall Cardassian that walked proudly along side Captain Price. "Say that guy looks familiar. I think I know him from somewhere..."
"Shhh! Top secret. Need to know. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. We have our assignment. Let's get to it and then we will find out the master plan and how everything fits together." Raven babbled off the top of his head.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. The mission. Gotcha. Okay, reverse order on the list. Number nine, Raven's razor. That should be easy. Say.. why do we need your razor for?..."
"Common!" Raven stated, shoving Leo further along and towards the turbolift.
Lt Eric Odin
Eric sat infront of his computer and said,"Begin Personal Log."
He took a sip of his hot tea and said with heavy set eyes from his lack of
sleep,"Anika's been gone for three days now and it's eating me up inside. I
haven't slept more than three hours a night since she left. I'm not sure how
much longer my body can hold up to this lack of sleep."
he paused and continued,"Plus I am going to be a father soon and I'm not sure
what to think about that. Normally it would be great, but it's totally
messed up my friendship with Michala. It's going to be hard, but I think we
have made the best of it, i just hope someday she'll be able to forgive me.
I'm so imcomapatant in this area that I must seem like a totally uncaring
person."
He ran his hand through his hair and continued after letting out a
breath,"I'm just not sure what to do. I'm just hoping and praying it will all
work out somehow."Tears began to form in his eyes as he said,"End Log." He
got up and went over to the bed and cried, he had been doing more of that
then he ever had as of late. All of this was like walls caving in and he
didn't know what to do. "Dissent"
by Madame Kiye (Ed) "Introductions"
Time: before Captain's tourist post and before conference begins.
Lieutenant Commander Savat “The Not-so-Silent Graves”
By Ensign James Lionel Corgan
Security Officer, USS Galaxy
Guest Starring Lt. Jg. Brightspot to-Srallansre "Visit From a Concerned Friend"
by Lt. Shinta Navarre
and Ens. John Drake "Bridge Duty"
by Ensign John Drake
Operations Officer, USS Galaxy "Wearing the Face of a Delician"
by Commander Thomas
First Officer
USS Galaxy "Back in Time for Dinner"
by Madame Kiye (Ed)
guest starring various others "Back in the Swing of Things"
Lt. Timothy Richeson
CTO, USS Galaxy "Sanchez finally bites it"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price "Surrendering"
by Lt. Michala Lynn
and Ens. John Drake Stroke of Bad Luck
by Commander Jeral Maas, CMO
reviewed by Madam Kiye, Prophetess
by, Ens. Wilhem Quevvenson,
Science Officer
-------------------------------- "The list"
With Npcs Ensign Sierra, Medical and Ensign Kelly, Science with guest
appearences by Lt.(jg) Raven Darkstar, Security and Leo Streely, pain in the ass. "Renewed Fervor"
Lt. Michala Lynn
Prophetess "Bridge Watch"
by Commander Thomas
First Officer
USS Galaxy "Prophet and Loss, Part III"
Chief Security Officer, USS Galaxy
AKA
David Friedland
ICQ# 5805168 Way back 'home'
by Lt. Ragnald Gustavson, helmsman
Ensign Threll, Security
Ensign Parry, Tactical Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Chief Engineer "Holodeck three is broken and it's Jamson's Fault"
by Commander Thomas
USS Galaxy "Meeting the Prophetess Again"
Written by Lt jg Kahn Nilani
Engineering Officer, USS Galaxy
and Madame Kiye, Keeper of the Word
Ruler of Night;
Guard me and mine
Until the light.' " (puppy) Love in an Elevator"
Soon.........
*********************** "Drinking and Thinking"
By Ensign Electra Reece
Operations Officer "The WHAT is offline????"
By Ensign Peter Lockhart Bajor-Os
by Commander Jeral Maas, CMO
reviewed by Captain Price "Mysterious Interludes V" "Prophet and Loss, Part IV"
By Lieutenant Commander Savat "First-Date" (sorta) "Adventures of the Turbolift"
By Ensign Electra Reece
Operations Officer "Banquet For Others"
by Lt Cmdr Surok "Changeling Infestation!"
The begining of the grand, sweeping epic,
"The Great Changeling Investigation" with Lt.(jg) Raven Darkstar, Security and Leo Streely,
journalist and special deputy assistant.
2- Lt. Zonhieb's sleeping rock
3- Lt. Von Ernst's Rabbits
4- The maintenence access pannel in the starbord warp nacel
5- Recycling scrubbers in the Protien storage vats
6- The Captain's chair
7- Lt. Murphy's pet bird
8- Lt. Wej's showerhead.
9- Raven's razor. “Eerie Premonitions”
By Ensign James Lionel Corgan
Security Officer, USS Galaxy "The secret of the stone"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price