"Accepting help"
by
Dr. Dothan
Navarre- maxwell, Shinta

Shinta woke up, or to put it better she got out of bed. It had been another sleepless night. The kids have kept her up, and when they were silent, worries about Bruce kept her awake. So she was very tired now.

She went to the bathroom , to get a quick shower before going into work.

Half asleep she slipped on the shower floor, and banged her head on the wall. Shinta cursed, blood was pooring down her face. So she touched the intercom.

"Doctor, would you have a minute, I have had a slight emergency in my bathroom."

*** Elsewhere on the USS Galaxy ***

Andree received the call, and promptly grabbed his med kit and charged for the door of his quarters, and into a turbolift.

After being deposited on Shinta's deck, he ran out, and turned left.

At her door, he barked out "Medical override, Gamma-2-5-Pi" and the doors obediently opened. a quick right, and Andree was at Shinta's side. Pulling the tricorder from the med-kit, and the hand scanner from the tricorder, he waved it over her body starting with her head. as he moved down, He could tell that Shinta had not been sleeping well, but decided to save that comment for later.

Shinta just stood there, trying to get rid of the stars in front of her eyes.

Setting the tricorder down, Andree switched the scanner to his left hand, and grabbed a dermal regenerator with his right, mending the cut on her head.

It made her feel slightly better, and she smiled at him. "Thank you doctor, you are a real life saver. Can I offer you something, some tea or coffee. Do you want to check the kids while you are here?" She hoped he would not inquire into her health any further now.

Andree wanted nothing more than a hot apple cider at the moment, but there were more pressing matters on his mind, Namely Shinta's help. Abruptly, he changed the subject, "You didn't get much sleep last night did you?"

"A little, I`m used to sleeping light" she said making it seem like no problem.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, I can tell you havn't been sleeping well, and your seratonin levels are incredibly low." he stated, "Do you need something to help you sleep?"

"No thank you. I would not feel comfortable being drugged with the children around." Shinta said.

"How about we move the crib into the living area, and I will sleep on the couch," he offered, understanding Shinta's concern for the twins.

"I could not ask that of you, you need your rest, but it is very kind of you to offer."

"It wouldn't be an imposition, on me, I don't have anything going on, and I've teken care of plenty of babies in my past host's life." While on that subject he added, "Speaking of the twins, How did they sleep last night?" curious as to the effectiveness of the weighted blanket.

"They slept more than the nights before, they slept for 3 solid hours and that is a lot for them." Shinta said.

"Excellent, but if your sleeplessness persists, you need to get help, and my offer still stands." Andree implored, truly concerned for his newest patient's health.

She paused for a moment. The offer was tempting, maybe with somebody else here, she would be able to sleep. "If you really do not mind, maybe we could try it for one night."

Alright then, I'll be back by the beginning of Delta shift tonight.

"An unofficial visit"

By

Ensign Jesse Parry
Lieutenant Navarre- Maxwell Shinta

From Karyn, Shinta heard what had happened to the young women. And Her boss had asked her to look after one, when she took care of the other. So she went to the computer.

"Computer, please locate ensign Parry for me."

Computer: Ensign Parry is in her quarters.

Jessie was sitting in her quarters after her bridge shift having a small break. ‘All I want is to rest.’ As soon as she started to close her eyes she froze and opened them again. ‘Not good. This is defiantly not good.’ She turned the lights up full and grabbed a book.

Shinta decided that she wanted to see the ensign Right away. So she made sure she had a baby sitter for the children, And then went over to the young woman's quarters. She used the door chime. And waited for the door to open. "Hello, I am Shinta, one of the ships counsellors. I thought you might care for some company."

Jessie stared then stepped aside to allow the woman entry. As she did so Jessie cast an appraising eye around the room making sure it was neat and tidy.

“Can I get you a tea or something Ma’am?” she asked Shinta

"Tea would be nice, and please drop the Ma'am. It makes me feel old."

Shinta rolled her eyes. "May I call you Jessie?" She asked.

Jessie nodded. "Sure everyone else does." she smiled. Shinta then looked around the small cabin when she waited for drinks to be served. "I like what you have done with so little .I am useless when it comes to decorating myself."

Jessie worked the replicator and soon was walking back with two cups of tea. "I didn't know what type you liked so I settled for Earl Grey." she said with a smile as she handed Shinta her cup. "have a seat. Ok so this is about me avoiding Karyn and the sessions I’m supposed to have right?" She asked Shinta as she sat down.

"Karyn is swamped in work, so she ask me to take care of you. But this is not really official, if it were official I would ask you to come to my office. I just wanted to get to know you, and to see if you are all right. It gets kind of lonely at night when you are scared." She said taking the tea. "And I know all about that."

Jessie raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Yeah well its kinda lonely up this end of the ship but I survive. So tell me Shinta are you going to make this official?” Jessie sat down opposite Shinta and smiled.

Shinta thought for a moment, "I think I’ll have to, you will have to be evaluated after what happened, but I have discretion in the way and where I hold my talks with you and I thought this would be easier on you. Nobody seems to like a counsellors office." she grinned.

Jessie nodded and gave a brief smile. She most defiantly didn’t want to talk about the attack but if she had too she would. “So what would you like to know?” she asked. "Can you tell me what happened, or is it difficult for you." Shinta asked. She knew that Victims off violent crimes often found it hard to talk about it, even to a counsellor or loved one.

Jessie closed her eyes for a moment. “I don’t remember much… I wasn’t able to sleep because my body was still trying to adjust to a new shift. So I went to the holodeck. I normally go there when I can’t sleep or am just restless. I started the program and was about to enjoy a medieval feast when I heard something behind me. When I turned all I saw was a blur of black and then pain.” She opened her eyes and looked around the room. “I remember is Autumn and Rose talking to me after I called out. But not much more then that.” She shrugged her shoulders. "so you were not sexually assaulted?" That was a relief to Shinta. "Tell me how are you sleeping now?"

Jessie looked away. “Sleep? Four hours max a night. Pulling triple shifts. Tactical is chaos at the moment. And as for the sexual assault.. Well Karyn and Autumn say I wasn’t.. but with no memory of it… I can’t really say.”

"And how is your attention span at work?"

“Pretty good. Have been doing a lot of bridge time and double shifts of paper work.” Jessie gave a rueful smile. “Its easy to concentrate on something other then myself.. “

Shinta was not too pleased with her answers. "To tell you honestly, it sounds. to me like you are pushing what happened away. And how comfortable that might seem now, it is not the right way of dealing with it. Because it will keep coming back at times that you need it the least. You need to face should demons now, and close this chapter." She said earnestly.

Jessie stared at her. “I understand what your saying but at this point in time I don’t have the Time to let myself think. I am trying with the best possible intentions to keep Tactical going. I know its not my job but right now it’s the only job I can do. Between Rebecca and James and with a new recruit or two the department is slowly falling to pieces.” Shrugging her shoulders she sighed. “The thing is how can I talk about something I don’t remember? How can I let it out when there doesn’t seem to be anything to let out?”

"I appreciate what you're doing in the department. But you have to think about your own health to. Do not do too much." She paused for a moment. "In the past I have tried hypnosis with people who did not remember traumatic experiences, I do not want you to make a decision on that right now, but think about it. It is a possibility."

Jessie took a moment to think. “Hypnosis… sounds like an idea.” She murmurs. “I do in part want to know what happened and who did decided to bash the hell out of me.. “ she trailed off trying to gather her thoughts.

"Then let me know, as soon as you are sure. It's painless and not scary. But to some people it is a big step. Now are you going to be all right on your own tonight?" She asked.

Jessie nodded. “Yes thank you Shinta I shall be fine.” Jessie smiled at the other woman. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”

"I would like to see you tomorrow again. Just to make sure. Then we will talk some more." Shinta said.

"Permission."
By Lt. Commander Kent Peterson & Counselor Karyn Dallas, RN

Kent finally reached his quarters to find them in a complete and utter mess. As the doors closed behind him he could only look on as he found his living room in a state of disarray, a direct result of the engagement with the Borg vessels. Looking to his left he saw the PADDs that had once occupied his desk in a neat pile were now laying confused on the floor. So too were some of the contents from his bookshelf, the battle causing photo images and object d'art to fall from their standing place and impact with the floor.

The lieutenant commander shook his head, as though he was scorning the mess itself. Deciding to leave it until later he walked passed the majority of the mess and towards the wall-mounted replicator. After being in the humid environment of the Borg cube, and then tactical vessel, he found himself feeling a little dehydrated. "Bolian tonic water," he requested, disregarding his usual caffeine-based beverages.

["Replicators are off-line,"] the computer responded uncaringly, unable to process the request.

Kent considered venturing to Ten Forward for a drink, but after what he heard had happened there, it would neither be appropriate or possible. While he could not believe how the away mission on the Borg vessel panned out, he did not expect to return to Galaxy to find something like the surrealistic nightmare that greeted them.

All the time since he had come back he did not know what the casualties were like. Obviously Commander Thomas was still alive - the acting captain contacted the transporter room as soon as the away team returned safety - but he had no idea whether or not the rest of the crew were that lucky. No doubt by now the news of Lieutenant Commander Surok's demise would have been circulating through the ship.

As Kent knelt down and picked up one of the fallen images he put his knee in dirt from the potted plant that had been thrown over from the observation windows. Standing up with the photo image he dusted off the soil from his already dirtied trousers. Turning the photo over he identified it as one from the Academy with his friends.

Reminiscing he was interrupted by the garbled door chime that sounded. "Come in," he responded, unconcerned with who it might be right now. Considering what had been going on it was easy for him to be somewhat distracted.

As he turned a painting of an Earth landscape fell to the ground, the impact drawing Kent's attention for a moment away from the door to his quarters. Letting out a short sigh he turned back to the door to see Karyn Dallas entering in on her anti-grav chair. She looked as though she had been through a lot, but was still playing the counselor by being calm and there for the crew.

She looked around. "Looks as good as my quarters," she joked.

The lieutenant commander smiled, "It's hard to find a good maid these days."

The Ship's Counselor reached in to a compartment discretely hidden on her anti-grav chair that allowed her to place small objects within it. Removing her hand from that compartment she pulled out the hockey puck that Peterson had asked her to mind for him while he was gone. His face lit up as he saw her holding it - a moment that distracted from everything that had happened.

Karyn moved closer and handed it back to Kent. "How did it go?" she asked, already having heard about the death of Lieutenant Commander Surok from Captain Price. While that would be something that she expected to hear more from the operations department, who had just lost their departmental commander, she was more interested to see whether or not Kent was experiencing a reaction from Three of Four.

Peterson looked down at the puck, running his hands along the words along the inner edge of the object, commemorating that Academy moment. As he looked at it he tried to not think about everything that had happened, how he felt about betraying all those people, how he felt conflicted about one set of ideals and something he had learned to hate, how he felt about seeing what the Borg had taken in the form of Three of Four. It did not help - his eyes welled up all the while he continued to look down at the puck.

"Let it out," Karyn suggested gently, giving him and opening for him to discuss what was on his mind, being what he and the rest of the Starship Galaxy crew expected her to be, there to listen. "There's nothing wrong with expressing your emotions."

Her words were like permission to feel. As soon as Kent realized that she was giving him that permission he fell to his knees and started to cry like a baby. As he rest against her anti-grav chair, Counselor Dallas put her arms caringly around him like she would any other patient in his position - there to comfort them through a distressing moment.

"Training."
By Lt. Bruce Maxwell

Bruce stepped into his temporary quarters at the Advanced Pilots Course. He was tired putting everything into this, to forget what happened. He had to go thru a quick investigation , then it was classified under special ops and had to await for further word. The trip here was a quiet one, he picked up some shifts to hasten the trip.He didnt want to see the counselor, on the ship or here. He sent a message to Shinta and the Galaxy, but received no response and this worried him.

He had just finished a two courses which he blew away of course, but felt wierd cuz he truely wasn't a Lt. Here he was a cadet again in a way. He was in class's with Officers younger then him and felt inadequate until he blew them away with his scores from expierance and determination.

He sat and looked at pictures from his files of his Love and his three children. He missed them terribly. He then remembered watching the Bajoran girl leave to go to the Federation, proccesing area to find a new life. He stood up, and headed out not being able to sleep.

********Lounge-Main*******

Bruce stepped into the loungs and procured himself a drink and a seat. He recognized others from his class's and nodded to them as looked out into the depths of space. He began to daydream of Commanding a ship, promotions and one day returning to his home and raising his family. He then hears the voice of a man interupt his thoughts.

"Excuse me, Sir. You are from the Galaxy Correct." Came the Lt.jg question.

"Aye that I am." Bruce answers back. "How can I help you?" He then asks.

"I was wondering how hard it was to fly it." He asks.

"Not hard at all." Bruce chuskled.

They talked for hours and joked, with various others joining in.

**********Later on in the month***********

Bruce had finaly finished and graduated at the top of his class. He was offered several new positions but didnt take any of them hoping to get his promotion and head back to the Galaxy. THe graduation and ceremonies felt empty. His family wasnt there. He packed up his thing s and began the transit out to get back to his home.

After awhile of traveling he finally saw the ship, the glorious ship that he knew was his in a way and his family was onboard. The pilot looked back.

"We are here, sir. Prepare for transpot." The pilot states.

"Will do." Bruce jumped up on the padd happily and dematerialized then rematerialized back on the galaxy.

*******Galaxy********

"Welcome back sir, and aboard the USS Galaxy." The transporter operator stated.

Bruce smiled and loked around. "Thank you, its good to be back."

(OOC: Right before the Grand Finale of "Queens are Wild")

"Trust Broken, All in a Day's Work."

A JOINT POST By:

Lieutenant jg James Lionel Corgan
Lieutenant jg Rebecca Von Erst

And... Ensign Carson Pratt (Poet)

(USS GALAXY)
(The Brig.....whatever Deck its on.)

"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!"

==>Plunk!<==

"PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED."

==>Plunk!<==

"YOU'RE BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR OWN"

==>Plunk!<==

"YOU WILL BE ADAPTED TO SERVICE US!"

==>Plunk!<==

"RESISTANCE IS…" ==>Plunk!<==

Perched on top of the wobbly chair in the middle of her Deck 38 Cage, Rebecca reached for another bowl of Jelly-Beans that she had replicated from the Cell's small Food-unit.

"PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED!"

==>Plunk!<== Yet another Jelly bean plinked off of the Severed Borg Head that sat quite unmobile in the exact center of the room. The surrounding carpet was littered with a virtual mine-field of the small multi-colored candy, testifying to the fact that Rebecca had been playing at this game for some time now.

"YOUR FEEBLE SUGAR-COATED WEAPONS ARE FUTILE…..YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED." The leering head droned onward, blinking LED lights menacingly, but quite unable to make any headway in its efforts to assimilate the petite young human.

Rebecca selected yet another Jelly-Bean ( a red one this time ) and flicked it at the Head.

==>Plunk!<==

"YOUR ACCURACY IS A MERE 20.53 % ASSIMILATION IS IMMINENT!!"

Rebecca sighed and popped a green Jelly-Bean into her own mouth this time, chewing slowly. The severed Head had somehow materialized in her Cell over an hour ago, and while at first the sight of a leering zombie shouting threats of imminent assimilation had frightened her beyond belief, it soon became quite apparent that the Borg was quite imobile.

She had since gone through three small bowls of Jelly-Beans, eating some and flicking the others at her stationary cell-mate. As noted her accuracy wasn ’t too good, but it was of little matter. The Borg had adapted its shields to the Jelly-Beans long ago.

From across the corridor came the sound of a Toilet Flushing, and Rebeca looked up in time to see her fellow prisoner, the Poet, emerging from his own small private washroom. The cunning-eyed stalker glanced across at his tiny neighbor sitting on the back of her chair.

"Roomate still giving you problems Little-one?"

Rebecca glared at him and flicked a Blue Jelly-Bean at him, only to be intercepted by the intervening ForceScreen with a small spark.

"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!" insisted the Head.

"Oh hush." Rebecca sighed.

==>Plunk!<==

The Poet grinned and wiped his hands on his pants, settling back into an easy chair to watch the Jelly-Bean War. "Well struck young Ernst! A noble Blow!"

Rebecca only glared.

"Come come." Soothed the Poet, "Why art thou down cast little-one? The danger is past and your Battle won. You have defeated the foul beast and taken its……Taken its head, so to speak."

"Hardly…" Rebecca grumped, popping another candy into her mouth, "If this thing hadnt already been beheaded, I'd be the newest and shortest Drone on the block. Just the most recent failure in a long line line during my less than stellar career."

"Oh piffle." The Poet said, "Come off the 'poor-pitiful-me' trip Ernst. You are blessed with gifts beyond most members of this crew…….you are being groomed by some of the most powerful Admirals in Starfleet. You should be the picture of enthusiasm and excitement."

"Oh? Great abilities and great promise make for great happiness?"

"Don’t they?"

"Obviously, " Rebecca argued while taking careful aim at the Borg again, "You never met Wesley Crusher."

The Poet frowned. "Who?"

"Cadet Wesley Crusher, Starfleet Class of 2371……He tutored me in some advanced Mathematical Concepts during my Freshman year. He was a genius."

"So?" The poet yawned, "The fact that you were Freshman and he a Junior, and yet still studying the same subjects speaks well of your own abilities."

"Maybe," Rebecca allowed, "But he was smart about everything, not just Math. The point is however, despite all his gifts, I noticed Wesley getting more and more quiet and withdrawn as the semester went along. We were working together on a Quantum Level Geometric Proof, Fascinating stuff, and yet he just seemed to loose interest and give up. "

Rebecca paused sadly remembering the tall brooding Cadet, one of the few that actually treated her decently, mostly because he left her alone and seemed content to work in silence on their project. "He had a brilliant future ahead of him….All of Starfleet at his fingertips. " Rebecca sighed, "And yet after Spring Semester Break, he never returned to the Academy. His resignation arrived a week later from the ENTERPRISE, and nobody has heard anything from him since."

She looked straight at the Poet, "If a guy like that with so many 'gifts' as you call them, can come to such a tragic end, then why cant I?"

Poet chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip for a second, before opening his mouth to reply. Fortunately for him the Borg Head decided to use that oppurtunity to renew its attack.

"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!"

==>Plunk!<==

"PREPARE TO BE ASSIMIL---"

==>Plunk!<== ==>Plunk!<==

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(Elsewhere….)

~~"Gotta make it to the brig!"~~

According to the last report, the brig was abandoned, except for a few unwilling tenants serving their time in the ship's prison. For the Borg, the brig was a freebie zone. Trapped little humanoids, with no means of escape and little in the way of fighting didn't stand a chance against a fully decked out drone that could pass through forcefields like a ghost in the fog. Three prisoners were confirmed being in the confines of the Brig. Two stalkers, the Poet and Victor Wilson, and a little redheaded girl named Rebecca Von Erst.

~~"How'd she get herself into the brig? Dammit!"~~ James cursed as he bolted through the halls and closer to the brig. The two stalkers didn't bother him at the time. In fact, a picture in his mind formed with Poet being assimilated by the Borg that looked quite pleasing to look at. He loved irony in all it's forms.

But now wasn't the time to indulge in revenge. He went down that fiery road before, killing all the drones in his way, and allowing others to die all around him. James fully accepted the blame for the deaths of Ensigns Kotobuki, Tau and Kroot. It was his fault in his mind, all his fault that they died. He wasn't going to allow another friend to die.

The brig had to be defended, and he was the only backup left. He couldn't just allow the stalkers to escape, so that left only one option, to defend the brig to the death. If he lived, then in his mind he finally did some good for people, and the killing of the drones would be justified. If he lost... justice would be served on the stalkers in the form of a hulking drone.

As much as he wanted to leave the stalkers alone to feel a horrible fate, the plan left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He couldn't believe that they truly deserved something so terrible.

And then there was Rebecca. The innocent shouldn't have to suffer in order for the guilty to be punished.

~~"Almost there..."~~

James gripped a newly acquired phaser rifle in his arms. The dead body that held the firearm didn't need it anymore, after all. Stalking slowly and carefully, he edged near the side of the door. Whirring and clicking sounds were heard from inside the brig, followed by a small 'plink'. His fears were confirmed and his stomach knotted in painful twists and turns.

~~"Oh no... i'm to late. Please Rebecca, hold on!"~~

Rounding the corner of the brig, he swung his new rifle and scanned the areas. All but three of the cells were deserted. Poet lounged lazily on his prison cot, but with daggers in his eyes as he spotted the security officer. Victor Wilson looked like he was sleeping peacefully. As for Rebecca Von Erst, she was fully occupying her time throwing bright little candies at a drone's head.

"Rebecca! Move back!" He ordered. Almost tripping over the fried body of a Borg drone, he fired downwards and into it's chest by instinct. The body of the drone convulsed with every shot it took, and knowing that three shots was more than enough to dispatch a drone, he ceased his firing.

Lieutenant Von Ernst still flung candies at the drone. One of the candies missed, shimmering the forcefield.

"PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED"

==>Plunk!<==

"REBECCA! SNAP OUT OF IT!" He screamed.

==>Plunk!Plunk!Plunk!<==

"Hah! You know, I do believe she is not in the mood to converse with you right now, Corgan." Poet taunted.

"Cram it with walnuts!" Corgan retorted. He deactivated Rebecca's forcefield with a few deft movements of his hand. He immediately grabbed the Borg's head with his free hand, while pointing the rifle in the head's direction.

"Alas poor Rebecca... you knew her so WELL! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!" Poet quoted

James started at the head. He didn't understand the obscure reference, or why he mentioned Rebecca. He couldn't imagine how the Poet's sick and twisted mind came up with that he was playing Hamlet. The Borg's head made a perfect substitute for old Yorick's skull, And the brooding Corgan, a perfect Prince of Denmark.

~~"What does he mean?"~~ He thought.

"Resistance if futile, Corgan, James, of Federation Unimatrix Galaxy. You have resisted. For that, you will be assimilated." The drone head spoke back.

"Here's a quote of my own. Tis nobler to live then." James whispered to the head. He dropped in the air, and with a swift soccer kick, the Borg head flew right into a nearby wall. With a hard thud and a small dent to the wall, the drone head fell hap-hazardously on it's side on the carpeted floor. "You will not die today, drone," James added, "I've killed too many of your kind."

"Oh well struck Brave Sir Corgan!" The Poet mocked, clapping his hands sarcastically, "A truer blow hath never before been struck.."

James glared at the leering man for a moment before turning back to little Rebecca who not sat silent and still on the back of her chair, a small bowl of Jelly Bean in her lap.

"Hey," James soothed, approaching carefully, "Rebecca you okay?" Something in the back of his mind clicked, reminding him what a habit he was making of rescuing the tiny redhead whenever her brain snapped on her. ~~~I don't get it. What is going on in her head?~~~ he thought.

Instead fortunately, Rebecca didn’t even look him in the face. Her eyes focused on a small piece of carpet across the cell, and refused to acknowledge his presence. This was the first time she had seen him since that embarrassing incident in her quarters a few days ago, and the full realization of her gaff was coming back to haunt her….

---------'I have poor little Rebecca Von Erst. She is so vulnerable right now that she'll sack anyone, including me. You should have seen her try to kiss me; it was hilarious.'------

The Poet's account of James words were fresh in her mind, and the fact of him being here only reinforced the sheer insult of it all. What was worse however was the fact that Rebecca agreed with that evaluation almost 100%.

~~~It was hilarious ~~~ she fumed. ~~~ Hilarious and pathetic. He's right, I would have tried to do anything that night, but in the end it turned out I didn’t KNOW HOW to do anything. ~~~

A tiny blush rose in Rebecca's freckled cheeks giving testimony to the fires of humiliation that burned within her breast.

~~~I didn’t even know how to kiss him….How the noodles did I expect to do anything more? How the noodles did I expect to do anything with Surok?~~~

Tht thought of the tall slim Vulcan OPS manager brought a saddened expression over the girl's face, and James Corgan picked up on it.

"Becca? Hey Its me…crazy guy remember? You with me girl?"

~~~Surok…..Oh dear, now how will I ever be able to look you in the eye again? What would you want with a failed piece of trash like me? ~~~

Feeling a sudden sense of being unclean, Rebecca wiped a tiny fist against her cheek, scrubbing at an unseen stain. A stain that existed only in the fragile psyche of her self-image.

Who did she truly care about?

Nilani? Rebeca shook her head in disgust, shutting her eyes momentarily in shame. The incident still burned in her memory, and the questions raised by Nil's kiss still remained unanswered……Who am I?… What am I?…..Am I really a girl?……No, not Nil.

Surok? Did she truly want to be with the stoically handsome Vulcan? Was he really the object f her affection, or was he merely a 'safe' outlet for her roller-coaster emotions? A paragon of ideal love. Neither questioning her nor smothering her with the emotional platitudes that made her terribly uncomfortable…….

Corgan? Not James Corgan. No…….the young Security Officer had merely been an available outlet for her inner frustrations, and a way for her to prove to herself that she truly WAS the trash she saw herself as. It would have been comforting, she presumed. ~~~At least that way I would have known at last what I truly am.~~~

But it had failed. James had rejected her, and to make matters joked horribly about her attempt.

~~~I didn’t even want him…~~~ she mourned. ~~~I just wanted ME.~~~

REBECCA! MOVE IT!" James yelled, "We only have minutes until that Borg head's buddy comes in and assimilates us all, and unless you pick up a phaser and start acting xenophobic, I suggest you book it out of here!"

Rebecca didn't move. She stood there, sobbing.

"Rebecca?" Lieutenant Corgan repeated.

"Don't you remember James?" Poet asked slyly, "A little poison in my ear that turned my plans to ruination? She found out the truth, oh once so great James Corgan. She knows your dirty secret. She knows how you toy with other people's minds and how you consider seduction a sport! Oh, she knows all too well that you made her a target of your sick little game. She knows both her and Lexa are victims of your sweet little words!"

Corgan froze in terror. ~~"Oh no... he told her.... and she believed every word he said..."~~

He didn't fight off his anger; he had none left. He remembered vividly the day that I tracked down Poet. He used two programs to find Poet, and managed to trace him, but in order to keep him from leaving his post, James had to anger the stalker. That meant lying.

The poison in his ear.

James told Poet the one thing that would piss him off, by appealing to his lust. Telling Poet that he not only made love to Electra, but also planned on seducing Rebecca Von Erst worked better than he thought. The tracer program caught Poet in his quarters.

He didn't think the cost would be this high.

~~"Oh no, I lied to Poet and now I'm going to pay for it. I didn't think who I would hurt... ohh... NOT AGAIN!!! I ruined Rebecca's life now!! No, not her, anyone but her!"~~

"You son of a….." James growled at Poet.

"Oh.…son of a what?" Poet sneered.

Rebecca snapped out of her seat, spilling the bowl of Jelly Beans all over the carpet. Her tears stopped forming, replaced by a look of sheer spiteful anger that caught James and Carson completely by surprise.

"You think I'm a freak, don't you James?" She asked.

"I..." Lieutenant Corgan managed to say before he was cut off by Rebecca.

"You think I'm a freak! Everyone thinks I'm a freak! What's worse, thinking that I'm a freak or laughing at it at my expense! And to think that I was even your friend, when all along you just wanted to use me! I hate you James. You are just like everybody else……The Academy…..Starfleet….Everybody trying to use me!! I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!"

Her words struck like frozen daggers into his heart. He had good intentions when he starte

d the investigation. All he wanted to do was help a friend in need. In doing so, he tapped into a dark side of himself, something more disgusting than Poet. His lies were potent enough to trap Poet in his web of deceit, so powerful that he didn't think of the other people he could destroy in the process. Rebecca was a victim of deceit.

"Rebecca... please... I never wanted this. I never meant for this to happen." He pleaded.

"You should have just told me. You're not my friend. You were never my friend!" She hatefully replied. Sobbing hopelessly, she ran out of the Brig, hoping that James wouldn't follow. Her whole world, What little of it there was, was collapsing in on her ~~"I need to run!"~~ she thought….~~"I need to find The one person who has never treated me wrong…..The one person on board who has always treated me with respect, and has even complimented me on my abilities………I need to find Surok! I need to find him and tell him how I really feel."~~

"Rebecca! Come back!" James ordered.

She was entering a turbolift by the time James yelled back. She quickly tapped in a few commands and jumped through the sliding doors.

"Rebecca, it's dangerous out there!" He warned helplessly.

The turbolift doors slid closed as James peered out the Brig entrance. Rebecca was safe, for now. Safe from James, Poet, and even the Borg that threatened the level. She sank down on the floor and put her knees together, huddling in a protective ball to cry out her anger.

Mixed in with the frustration however was a tiny jewel of hope…..She had finally decided to tell he long-time crush exactly how she felt about him…..

~~" I need to find Surok...."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Isn't that ironic, Corgan?" Poet asked from his cell, smiling contently like a fox, "You try to save a friend, and in return you lose another. Or... should I say... lovers?"

Poet's words rang almost true in James' mind as he recalled, and they were also the last words he could possibly stand from the smug stalker. Part of James' mind snapped, if there was anything left to break, that left him wanting to throw Poet in the path of the oncoming Borg drones. Then he remembered, revenge gave him nothing and brought him nowhere closer to the inner peace he sought since the Odyssey massacre. He would have to settle with speaking his mind, and he had plenty of things to say to Poet.

Starting with the truth.

"You know what, pal?" Lieutenant Corgan faced his adversary and locked his cold gray eyes onto Carson Pratt's sharp stare, "I haven't lost a friend, I just lost two of them thanks to my actions and yours."

"Excuse me, I'm afraid I don't follow. Two friends?" Poet laughed.

"I lost Rebecca now, because of the lies I told to you in order to find you."

Poet's eyes sparkled with realization, and he raised an eyebrow, "Ohhhh... is that so? Why would someone want to lie about that?"

"Because I knew that you were weak emotionally, and I did what I could to strike there! Don't you understand? You may be the best damn stalker in the world, but you cannot even keep control of your own heart! You let love and lust blind you from the truth, that I had the dagger behind my back and I was ready to stab you with it."

"Ahhh... I see now Corgan. You decided that I would get angry if you told me a specific lie."

"That's right, and now because of that, I lost a friend. Because of you, I lost another."

Poet paced around his cell, chuckling from the joke that is fortune, "You decided to be Brutus, and stab Caesar in the back with a knife. Like Brutus himself though, he found out that taking a terrible action for the common good was more trouble than it was worth. Soon, he was taken by his enemies, and the darkness in his soul. Caesar, like me, got the least painful punishment. Caesar died, and I get to go to a Federation penal colony to serve... I would say... five years of light labor, maybe less if my behavior turns out to be good. Then, I will be back for Lexa, because we are meant to be. Heavens and earth cannot stop us, can't you realize that! I'll be back to claim what is mine, and you will have nothing, just like you are now. But... praytell, I never told Rebecca about you and Lexa. I've decided to let you keep one thing, not isn't that enough?"

"Lexa's dead." James said flatly.

"No," Poet protested, his face turning from cocky to shocked in under a second, "She cannot be dead. We are meant to be!"

"Make no mistake about it, Poet," Corgan spat, "You killed her deep inside. I noticed her old self dying when you first started to stalk her. She was once quiet, dignified, smart, and so very kind. She reminds me of Sotek, god bless. She's the type of girl that I'd be more than honored to be a friend with. Then you came along and killed that side of her. You tore her apart, her uniform, her body, her soul, it's all ripped to shreds thanks to you. Her old self is dead! DEAD! You killed her! You are such a fool to think you can love her now! The Electra Reece you once knew is dead! Give up on her!"

Poet took a second to think about it. He leaned back on the wall, holding his forehead. He looked confused, like he was trying to comprehend how he could have possibly hurt her. "I did what was best for us... I didn't want to punish her..."

James cut him off, "And she's dead inside because of it. Don't just blame yourself, because I am a friend of hers... and Rebecca too. Everyone around me dies. I guess you can call me the Grim Reaper, Mr. Pratt."

And then James heard the slow, methodical footsteps of the drone come closer to the Brig.

"I'll let you think about this while I save your sorry ass." Lieutenant Corgan reset the frequency of his phaser rifle, then before exited the Brig, he said, "If you make it that far."

"Well... look on the bright side... I lost a lot less than you, and I'll still keep my life after this. Go ahead and waste your life. Know that it accomplished nothing!" Poet cursed

Outside, James made his final prayer to whatever deity listened in at the time and asked for forgiveness. He promised to risk his life and stop the Borg from entering the Brig, not because he wanted them all dead, but because lives were in the balance. There were two evil, despicable lives, but then again, so were the manifestations of the Borg. No more lives needed to be taken to ease his pain, since no amount of deaths could counter how he felt. Death was only a final resort to use, and that time came.

~~"May I only kill to save others..."~~ James thought before he thrust himself into the dangers that lie ahead.

With a sudden dash, he flew into the abandoned corridor, phaser in ready and a prayer on his lips. Even a song came to his mind, and the beat carried him along like a war chant. He was ready to die for a cause now, the cause that he once vowed to uphold during his inauguration into Starfleet, the vow he didn't carry to heart until now, when the time demanded that he uphold it. To protect and serve, lay down his life so that others may live. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. He was the few, the brave security officer that was willing to die for the crew, the many.

He saw a half dozen drones track his movements. Without hesitation, he ran headlong towards the fray, and opened fire. James hollered out a fearsome cry, like a hawk diving on prey. One of the Borg was struck in the chest armor with his first shot, sparking from the hit and heating the duranium chest armor, frying internal systems and finally, dying on the spot. It fell helplessly like a marionette without the strings.

The other drones reacted much more quickly to the threat that resisted themselves. They fired on James Corgan, and he felt the searing scorch of energy weapons soar and fizzle past his head and legs. He sidestepped, always moving to the side so that the Borg had trouble hitting him. He let out another shot, killing another Borg as its head components turned into superheated shrapnel.

Then, Lieutenant Corgan felt the searing pain of a bolt smacking him in the leg. It was as if a red hot iron swung and broke his leg, then burning the flesh on impact. He screamed in pain and tripped, falling closer to the floor. Just before he completely fell, another blast knocked back his left shoulder. He fell to the floor screaming in protest from the pain. The left arm was so numb he couldn't hold the stock of his rifle, and his right leg couldn't move. Laying the rifle on the ground, he fired at the drones legs, watching one Borg get struck in the knee and the other adapt. He dropped the rifle, and with his free hand he manually changed the frequency, picked it up while grunting from the strain, and fired. Another shot adapted to the Borg's personal shielding. They were also ceasing to fire. Remembering the Borg head's words...

=/\="Resistance if futile, Corgan, James, of Federation Unimatrix Galaxy. You have resisted. For that, you will be assimilated."=/\=

~~"So, they want to draft me into their team? Let them earn it..."~~

James squeezed off the trigger, letting loose three more shots into the group of advancing Borg. All three shots had no effect on the Borg shielding. He could barely move his free arm and even stay conscious at this point.

~~"I have nothing left. Nothing. I might as well... die."~~

Miraculously, a blue aura emanated from the Borg's end of the hall. Half away and blinded by the pain of his wounds, he watched as the drones were bathed in the light. Then, the light passed harmlessly through James himself. It made him feel queasy, on top of aggravating his painful disrupter burns. Whatever the light was, it stopped the Borg's advance.

James struggled to his feet. More pain shot up from his leg. He gritted his teeth and tried not to make a sound, but the pain was too much. He managed to keep a full level scream down to a growl. The Borg drones looked at the wounded officer, without emotion, not even moving to assimilate the weakened human.

The leading drone spoke through the collective consciousness.

"We are the Borg," The lead drone spoke, "As agreed in our treaty with the Federation, we will not assimilate the crew of the Galaxy. We leave you in peace, for now."

He almost couldn't believe what the Borg said. ~~"Peace? With them?"~~ He thought, ~~"How did that happen?"~~

Before James could ask what was going on to the drones, they disappeared in a green transporter mist. Gone abruptly, without an explanation except for a treaty that James didn't know the Borg had it in them to even honor. It left the officer confused.

He heard the footsteps of two others come from behind, but the voices were starting to fade. He was losing his balance and his consciousness at the same time. The burns were too much for him, and the lack of eating and sleeping from the last couple of days were finally felt on his shoulders. He allowed himself to finally surrender and rest. Sanchez's shrill voice felt like a pleasant dream as he rested for the first time in days.

‘Hero With A Hypo’

Dr Todd Sansky
Medical
USS Galaxy

With unauthorized appearance by Rose MacAllen

*Report To Dr Dothan*

Regarding recent events during the evacuation of sickbay. Due to Borg forces attacking the main sickbay complex, the entire medical department, and I were forced to re-locate in Shuttlebay 2, Deck 13. Due to problems with one patient I was forced to break away from the group as they fought to get to the new medical facility leaving in command Dr’s Murphy, Bellen and Mhistecai. Upon returning to the shuttlebay where I relieved Murphy Dr Malgin arrived. All performed well in a dangerous situation.

Regarding Ensign Autumn Jamieson. Ensign Jamieson failed to report to the shuttlebay after sickbay was evacuated and was reported heading to her quarters where she sat out the majority of this crisis. However she did report to duty if not seriously tardy in doing so. Finally we have treated in total 295 patients, no fatalities to date.

**Note to Commander Dallas** Lieutenants Reece and MacAllen have been released from medical but in my opinion are both in need of a severe psychological work up. After all Reece tried to get herself assimilated and MacAllen is in denial.

*Shuttlebay 2*

Todd tapped on his PADD sending his report to Dothan and Dallas. He was so relieved to hear about the away teams survival but he was too busy to celebrate. After Kira had placed Sansky in command she seemed more relaxed and less on edge. He moved over to Rose who was lying on her bed tapping her fingers and singing, Todd sensed her boredom.

‘Well old friend it’s your lucky day, your free to return to duty.’

‘Oh at last, you know me, I’m never a lying around during a crisis kinda person.’ She hopped off the bed, kissed Todd on the cheek and made a beeline exit for the door. Todd laughed and continued doing his rounds of the wounded that were starting to leave quicker than they were coming in.

‘Dr Sansky.’ Todd heard a calm male voice call to him. The voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He turned at looked for the source, it didn’t take him long to see him. He stared into the eyes of the most gorgeous guy Todd had ever seen. A strange magnetism drew him towards this stranger.

‘C-can I help you?’

‘Ugh, yeah my head is spinning and my arm is aching. I’ve not said anything for two hours as you’ve had people worse off than me but I’m feeling faint now.’ Todd laughed and smiled at the guy. He scanned him before taking a hypo and resting it against his neck. He had a nice tan and great dark hair. Todd could feel his heart beat faster. The hypo hissed and his patient stood up and smiled.

‘Thanks that’s much better, my hero.’ Todd was in shock at the beauty of this guy and just grinned.

‘Your erm free to go now.’ Todd’s stranger then stood up and patted Todd on the back and walked out the door.

‘Wait I never caught your name…’ He called after him as the doors closed.

Todd sat on the bed hoping he would see that Adonis again, if not he only had just over thousand crew bios to go through until he found him. He grinned and continued clearing out the rest of his patients. With the Galaxy out of danger Todd’s job was simple while he waited for Dothan or Maas and while the whole of medical waited to get back into the main sickbay.

"Time's Visitation"

Lieutenant Adrian An'quinsos
And
Zerhi An'quinsos (NPC)
With
Daenara Qui'alla An'quinsos (NPC)
Professor of Political Science at the Vulcan Science Academy Kailen An'quinsos (NPC)
Professor of Quantum Theory and Particle Physics at Betazed University Jaina Norana (NPC)
Professor of Warp Theory at Betazed University

In the Trans-parasteel walkway, Adrian stood there with his wife Zerhi, ready for the ship to arrive. He wore a crisp, Starfleet uniform, and a royal-blue jacket with his name in El-Aurian script on the right, embroidered vertically, with his comm. badge above it. Zerhi was dressed in a simple light blue frock, and had her hair French-braided.

They had only been married a month, and were slowly adjusting to married life. They had been married on the Holodeck, in one of El-Auria's most sacred temples, The House of Injinni Re. Many attended, and few left afterward due to the festivities. Zerhi's side of the family showed up, but little of Adrian's family attended. Moreover, just as they hoped, Captain Price performed the ceremony, and did an amazing job at that. Who knew a human could pronounce his language so eloquently?

Unlike the usual calm demeanor that accompanied him, he constantly twiddled his thumbs and gazed expectantly, at the hatch before him. Zerhi mused that a Torpedo blast couldn't bring him out of his trance. He was becoming so engrossed, that Zerhi couldn't help but pick fun at him.

"Captain Price is here with orders to have you escorted out of the nearest airlock," She began, with a mock serious demeanor. "You have expended your pacing points, and therefore must be kicked off the ship... in whatever form or style he sees fit!"

"What time's the 'kick the shrink' ceremony?" He inattentively asked, then looked at her and grinned. "Sorry Zer's, I just can't wait... for..."

The airlock slowly opened and a frenzy of people exited past them. Adrian thoroughly looked around, until the majority of the people passed him. He saw nothing.

[Hello my son, it has been a long time.]

Adrian spun around and shock hit him, freezing him in place. There, in a Silver frock, stood the six-thousand year old woman that gave him life, who dried his tears during his youth, and whom was separated from her for over a century; and even though that may not be long in their life span; a Terran quote comes to mind 'Who gives a damn!'

They rushed into one another's arms and tightly embraced. Tears fell form both mother and son, and neither wanted to let the other go.

"Aren't you going to say hello to us?" A male voice said.

"Or did we deactivate our cloaking device?" A feminine voice replied in kind.

Adrian and Zerhi looked over at the airlock, and spotted two people in El-Aurian robes, the male in crimson, and the female in scarlet. As usual, the humanoid female her strawberry-blonde hair up in a French twist, and held in place by two ebony chopsticks.

"Ah, My brother the Vulcan, and the personification of insanity herself!" He announced. His mother looked at him a moment and grinned.

"Very funny!" Kailen smirked.

"Come here you!" Jaina said, grabbing him in a tight hug.

Kailen and Adrian took their bags, and proceeded to the turbolift.

"So, how was the wedding?" Kailen asked. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

"I'll forgive you this time!" He winked. "As for the wedding, it wedding was okay."

Zerhi batted him a grim grin. "Okay?" "It was awesome!" He laughed. "Who knew our people could be such party animals? Guinan was here. In fact, she got into the festive mood more than she realized… quite literally in the punch bowl…" He trailed off, recalling the event with a wry grin. "Alin Daneius allowed himself to become plastered. Nevertheless, for what reason, I have no idea. Martus was there with his wife. I've never seen our people… well; those that were there unwind. They looked like they were having a great time!"

[We El-Aurians are stretched over vast distances of space. It may be that for once in their lives, they felt like celebrating, rather than worrying about the future, they wanted to loosen up. That name… Martus…] His mother replied, trailing off in thought. [Ah yes, I remember now. He was that greedy little troublemaker that I wanted to personally expel from the University by the seat of his pants!]

[Mom!] He exclaimed, as they exited the turbolift, and headed for the guest quarters.

"Well Adrian, it's official. I have temporarily retired from fifty years of teaching, and have enrolled at the Daystrom Institute. They quickly accepted me, and I begin this fall." "Really! What are you majoring in?"

"Well, since time is not of the up most importance, a little of everything. However, my focuses are Advanced Particle Physics, Quantum Physics, and Advanced Thermodynamics. Besides, it will be a refresher course for me."

"And," Jaina replied. "Kailen will be staying aboard. I on the other hand will have to leave. I have to get ready for the upcoming semester."

"That's too bad" Zerhi began. "However, while you're hear, we can have a great time together!"

"No problem sister-in-law, party is my middle name."

"Among other names…" Adrian mumbled humorously to himself.

Daenara raised an amused brow. [Yes, you always did have plenty of fun, yet retained that perfect average. In addition… I believe head of the slacker crowd]

"Head and President!" Jaina laughed.

Well, let me get the three of you situated, and then afterward, we'll head to Ten-Forward to finish discussing this.

"Counseling Session"
by, Lt. Michael S. O'Grady
Counselor
and
Lt. (j.g.) Wilhem Quevvenson,
Science Officer
---------------------------------

Lt. (j.g.) Wilhem Quevvenson strode down the corridors of the USS Galaxy. He was headed to the strange place of Counseling. Normally, he would be just fine. But his encounters with Autumn had brought up some long-hidden hurts. He needed to talk them out.

Mike walked out and saw him, "Lt Quevvenson, what brings you by today?"

Wilhem opened his mouth to speak, but then thought it over some more, "I am here to talk over some past issues I have. Namely the loss of my family and friends from so long ago. And my feelings for a certain Medical Officer."

Mike raised an eyebrow and waved to his office, "Well then please come on in, why don't we sit down and talk about it."

Wilhem nodded and went in to sit down. He then said, "I don't know how well I can say this, but the last time I had counseling was from a trainee at the Academy. He was not very good. Something about being a half-Vulcan."

"Ahh Vulcan counselors, not a bad idea, but the personality needs work." He leaned back and smiled, "So what's on your mind?"

Wilhem smiled, "That being said, I have to go over the cause of my problems. I am a little bit confused how to say this, but I am not from this place and time. My world was in differing stages at different places on Cerilia. The Masetians were in the Greek Golden Age.

The Vos, goblins, and orogs were in the Dark Ages. The Rjuven or Rjuriks were in the Middle Ages. And the Anuireans or Andu, Basarji, Elves, Dwarves, and Brecht were in the Renaissance. As a Brecht, I was from the latter."

"So you've been adjusting well to the 24th century?" Mike asked beginning to make notes on his padd.

Wilhem shrugged, "As well as can be expected. Most of the stuff still seems partly magical. Even as I learn the scientific basis for them. But I don't know how important that is to the problem at hand."

"Well, there's an old earth Philosopher, Nietzche who says mankind is shaped through struggles, and counseling theroy says that everything you've experience shapes your ideas, values, thoughts etcera, and your past shapes how you see the future, so I like to get a good history on new clients."

Wilhem thought a moment, then said, "Well, okay then. I still have to study up on my Science principles and information. It's taken me this long to get this far. I have some knowledge of meteorology and geology, which I majored in. I also have some ideas about botany and zoology, having been a ranger in my previous life on Aebrynnis. But some things like computers are sometimes difficult to understand. Like on that anti-virus. I could not decode it, and had to rely on others to help me."

"Well sometimes you have to rely on others." He then made another note, "So, you spoke earlier of feelings bringing up memories, did you want to talk about those now?"

Wilhem nodded, "Yes, please. This all started during the Stone of Tears mission. I was going to the Holodecks for my normal reliving of old battles. There I met a young Medical officer named Autumn Jamieson. She was interested in joining in on that battle, and we fast became friends."

Mike nodded, made a note on his padd again, "go on."

Wilhem nodded again, "During the last mission, I started to fall in love with her. But this brought up the thoughts of the past. For I am afraid of losing her, like I lost my family and friends so long ago. And I am also worried that she could be like my first girlfriend. She was someone who only wanted a nobleman's baby."

Mike leaned back and looked at him, "Well, these are all issues that to be honest requre Autumn's input.

The problem with keeping them internalized would be, you would probably fall in to two categories, either become aloof, refusing to allow for the possiblity of a new romance to avoid getting hurt, or you would be the exact opposite, once you fall in love you become the most over protective person on record, neither of those are good ideas. Instead, this is something that you need to sit with her and discuss, to get it in the open so to speak."

Wilhem nodded, "I think I understand. So when do you want her to come here?"

"Well that's up to you, if you think she should come here, for me to assist, then just make an appointment. But you also need to talk to her on your own."

Wilhem's eyes widened, "I don't know how to do that. It's been a long time since I talked with a woman about such matters. And I'm not sure how to do it in your culture."

"Well, then we can make the appointment and you just ask her to accompany you." Mike said, "It would be easy to set up."

Wilhem smiled slightly, "Thank you, sir. When would it work for you?"

"Well I have a pretty free schedule, so work it around your duty shifts and we can meet any time."

Wilhem nodded, "I think we should set it up for Delta Shift. Both of us work on Gamma Shift, and I think she wakees up an hour before her shift. Not that I wake up any earlier."

"Well then let's set it up." Mike smiled, "Just send me the best time for both of you."

Wilhem nodded again, "Okay, sir. I'll contact her soon."

=====
William Bolitho aka
Tactical Officer Lt. (j.g.) Wilhem Quevvenson - U.S.S. Galaxy

Lt. Eric Odin
Lt. Maxwell-Navarre Shinta

After Eric's amazing number of encounter's with the borg he needed someone to talk to and he was sure this person might need soemone too. He walke to Shinta's quarters and pushed the button hoping she would be there.

Shinta opened the door and smiled at him. "Eric! I am glad to see you. Are you okay? I was off shift and I could not leave my children, but I was so scared they would come here and hurt my little ones."

"I'm not great. I've had too many encounter's with the borg." he would of cursed, but her children were there. "I am glad to see you as well. I have been missing you since this whole thing started my friend. May I come in?"

"Off course you can come in. Eric, is this official? Do you need counseling." She tried very hard to calm herself, in case he was here as a patient. But she was not entirely successful.

"No, this is unofficial. It is officially a friendly visit to my good friend,"he said with a smile. he entered and sat down on her couch hoping it was alright. "What have you been up to my friend?" He needed to chat with soemone, he had been so into engieneering he needed to talk about something else.

"I have been busy with the children. Hope is still not sleeping well. And I am not sleeping that well either, because I still think about Bruce. I still cannot believe he is dead. It's, it's hard." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry..."

He moved over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder and said,"It's alright. I don't man to presume anything, but I will do anything I can to help you. I will come over late at nght if you want to talk ,watch the kids if you need it, anything, and I mean that." He looked her in the eyes as he said it trying to let her know he was here for his friends.

"Thank you. You have all been so kind. Dr. Dothan has offered to help out at night as well. You see, I sleep badly. Maybe I can ask you once in awhile, I don't want to bother the doctor to much. I hate bothering people."

He looked her in the eyes once more and said,"You're my friend. You can't bother me Shinta. I'm here for you. Anytime, even at 1am if I've just fallen asleep. You need to talk about what's going on with Bruce and everything?"

"Yes, yes I do. And Karyn is still so busy. I used to talk to Michala, it is empty without her. I am making new friends, but that takes time." She was actually close to tears now.

"Is there anything I can do for you? I know I'm not a counselor, but I am a friend. I at least have a shoulder to cry on if you should cry. I hope I am not upsetting you?"He saw that tears were welling up and feared he was the cause.

Then she finally broke down in tears, leaning on his shoulder. "I am sorry" she blubbered.

"Hey, it's alright Shinta,"He said holding his friend and wishing he could do more. He kissed the top of her head and said,"It'll be alright Shinta. I'll do whatever I can to help." He had merely kissed the top of her head to let her know he cared and nothing more.

"Thank you." She said between sobs. "Just being here is enough. I desperately need a shoulder to cry on. You are a good friend, Eric."

He held her and said,"I only wish I could do more,"he said honestly as he just held her. He also thought ot himself he wasn't that good of a friend, he should of come to her sooner and maybe she would be in better shape.

A little later Shinta fell asleep in his arms.

Eric knew she was more comfortable with someone here so he fell asleep too, with his head on the back of the couch. He would of course leave once she woke up unless she needed to talk some more.

"Remy and Jessie"
By Ensign Jessie and Ensign Remy

Jessie walked down a darkened hallway. Her katana in her hand. She hated the fact that she had to rest. How could people rest while the Borg were on board? She could barely see a thing as she rounded the corner. But what she could see was a figure moving. She could hear singing and watched as the figure tripped over a body. ‘Oh great Borg corpses.. just like the one I found before.’ But whoever it was that was tripping was defiantly a galaxy crewmember. Slowly and silently she crept forward and reached out to touch the figure on the shoulder. As she did so the Girl just screamed.

Jessie’s hand went from shoulder to mouth fast. “Its ok. I am from galaxy. I am not a Borg. Calm down.”

Remy turned around sharply, the knife still in her hand. She could imagine how bad she looked right now, pale and wide eyed. She wished desperately she could see the other person. Could be a Borg playing a trick. . .oh, that was just the stupidest thing she'd ever thought in her entire life. Remy tried to follow the other girl's advice and calm down. Blind, yes, paranoid, fine, but not stupid. Taking a breath, she asked, "Who are you?" Jessie gently moved her away from the corpse. “Jessie Parry Tactical department. And you are obviously are wounded. What’s your name?” she asked as she slowly guided the girl down the hall.

"Remy," she replied to the woman. She stumbled a bit but the woman gently helped her through the corridor. "I'm a pilot. The console by the dead ensign over there exploded, knocked me out, and blinded me." Remy was beginning to calm down and that excellent (cough, cough) sense of humor of hers was coming back in full swing. "I certainly hope it's not a permanent blindness because then it'd be somewhat difficult for me to pilot. I suppose I could be one of those old, blind women who talks to her cats and reads fortunes. That would be sort of fun and surely no Borg would come my way. I could just see reading a Borg's future. Assimilate some people here, assimilate some people there, die."

Jessie grinned " Come on there got to be a med s

tation somewhere and if theres not we head back to the Battle bridge and wait for a medical officer there." She gently steered Remy down the hall sliently making sure there was no borg.

A few minutes later, they appeared at a medic station without any trouble. Some doc or nurse came over and checked Remy out. "You're going to be fine," the man's voice said assuringly. "The blindness appears to be only temporary. You should slowly began to regain your sight in a day or so. In a few days it should be completely restored. Now, if you'll excuse me. . .". Remy supposed he left.

Jessie had stayed by the entire time. "Thanks," Remy said to her. "If you don't mind helping a poor, lost, little blind ensign again, I need someone to help me to my quarters. I'll owe you one. Or two. Either way, when I can see again and am restored to my naturally great self, I'm there if you need me for something." She paused in thought. "You probably won't need me unless you want me to fly something or to piss someone off. But, just in case you do. . .".

Jessie laughed. "Come on lets get you back to your Quarters." As she led Remy back to her quarters she continued. "Flying isn't exactly high on the list of priorites right now.. but Pissing someone off.. now that sounds like fun." she grinned. She stopped outside Remy's rooms and opened the door. and led her to the bed. "You now go to sleep and I'll catch up with you later." and with that she left and headed back to her quarters to grab food and change her unifrom before heading back to the battle bridge.

"I hope you're satisfied."
By Lt. Commander Peterson & Commander Thomas

"... have you seen my wife 'Commander," a distraught Starfleet officer asked Peterson. He had not been able to find either his wife or child and was beginning to think the worst, but trying to remind himself that the Galaxy was a large vessel. Before the Chief Science Officer had the chance to reply the younger man added, "Never mind sir ..."

Michael passed Kent as he ran up to his wife. Her hair was messed up and she generally looked as though she had survived a war zone. It was not far from the truth and she let him know how angered and distressed she was with a calculated slap to his face. He looked at her stunned before she began to cry, "I waited for you," she wept.

The Starfleet officer picked up his little boy before placing his free arm around her. "I'll request a transfer immediately," he promised her. "I am so very sorry ..." he managed before starting to cry too, realizing that he nearly lost them.

Lieutenant Commander Peterson watched them for a moment, wondering how the additional stress of having a family had on a Starfleet officer. They had been lucky, but how many others on the starship had not had that kind of fortune. Shaking his head, and being grateful of that fact, he turned and resumed on his journey to Commander Thomas' office thirty meters ahead.

Stopped at the door he hesitated pressing the door chime for a moment. He was not looking forward to speaking with him about the matter that Chris had raised not long after their return - it meant admitting that he had been wrong to the one person in the world that made it harder to swallow. Finally Kent pressed the door chime.

["Enter."]

Peterson walked in to find the office in better condition than his quarters had been. Glancing over at the end of the room he saw the Starfleet commander seated behind a desk and finishing a report on the repairs needed when they arrived at starbase. Looking up he acknowledged the other man's presence, "Mister Peterson."

"Sir," Kent replied before walking up to the desk and half-throwing down the PADD he had brought from his quarters. The display device landed with a thud on the Commander's desk, "I hope you're happy now," the scientist remarked, expecting Thomas to gloat in the fact that he had won. At that moment he wondered which was worse - having helped the Borg or giving in to Chris Thomas.

Chris picked up the PADD and read through the solitary paragraph that Kent had jotted down for him. Looking up he gave the man a nod, "Mitchell," he remarked. "A fine officer. And an excellent choice."

The way the Commander Thomas said those words seemed at first like a sarcastic jab at the chief scientist. "I glad you agree, sir," Kent managed without showing or losing his temper.

Thomas looked at Peterson for a few moments before leaning back in to his chair. "I think the idea of breaking up the department further was a sound idea in theory," Chris said, almost like a form of encouragement or praise. He realized that Kent, like everybody, had just been through a traumatic mission - he was not insensitive. "But I think this mission points out the need for someone in your department to permanently hold the position of assistant chief science officer."

Kent settled a little. He realized he was probably being a little over-sensitive. "I am inclined to agree with you. I also think that Lieutenant Mitchell deserves some recognition for his prior service to this ship as her chief science officer. To be honest, I cannot imagine that it has been easy for him to return to the Galaxy."

"Possibly," Chris responded, "However, James is a resilient officer. You don't survive on Bajor, even through the last years of the Cardassian occupation, without having developed a thick skin."

Kent contemplated that for a moment. In some ways it made the few encounters with the Borg seem insignificant when one imagined growing up on an occupied planet - at least he grew up in a free home and without fear. It was then when he finally understood a remark made by Counselor Dallas a few days earlier - he could not keeping running from his past. That was exactly what he had been doing.

"Mister Peterson?" Chris said, getting the impression that Kent's concentration was focused somewhere else.

"I'm sorry Commander. Just getting used to being back."

"Speaking of which ... how is our guest doing?"

"To be honest, sir, I wouldn't have a clue. The last time I saw it was when Lieutenant' Kahn and I escorted the drone to the cargo bay. From what I can tell, Engineering has completed the modifications to the cargo bay to accommodate a regeneration alcove."

Chris nodded. "That they have, and might I add, I was not aware those things required a lot of power. I've suggested to 'Commander Suder that when we reach starbase, we should look at doubling the number of EPS conduits in that section of the ship."

"Do what you see is best, sir."

An awkward moment fell between the two men as the office was filled only with the sound of the desktop console between them. "Well then ..." the First Officer commented, breaking that silence.

"I should be heading off," Kent said as he used a hitchhiker-like gesture as he motioned towards the door. "I still have some arrangements before I prepare to leave for home."

Thomas was reminded of something with the mention of the lieutenant commander's shore leave. "How long will you going to be gone?"

"A week."

Chris nodded, "Then that should give Lieutenant Mitchell some time to get reused to things again. Managing a department is a little different than commanding one when in the middle of a transwarp conduit."

Kent nodded before taking several strides towards the office door.

"And Commander ..." Chris added, making the Chief Science Officer stop and turn towards him. "You might be a jackass, Peterson, but it is good to have you back on the ship."

Kent nodded, "Same here Commander. Same here."

The Starfleet lieutenant commander turned back towards the door and exited the Executive Officer's office. Chris moved the PADD Kent had brought with him to one side and returned to reading through the reports on the damage to the Galaxy-class starship.

"Autumn gets the news."
By Ensign Autumn Maeribeth Jamieson

*****Autumn's quarters after the ship has returned to the Alpha Quadrant*****

Autumn sat in her room downloading her mail. She scanned all the mail from her friends from the academy. She was slowly reading Toby's mail when she noticed a message from Starfleet command. With careful fingers she hit the button to bring it up on her screen. Slowly she began to read.

To: Ensign Jamieson
From: Starfleet Command.
Re: Personal and Urgent.

Ensign Jamieson we regret to inform you that about two weeks ago we received word of you parents deaths. Due to communication difficulties we were unable to send this information to you sooner. Our condolences on your loss.

Starfleet command.

Autumn went numb. She didn't remember ever feeling this empty or this angry. her parents were dead.. and she didn't even know until it was too late to say good bye.

All she wanted to do was scream. Her aunt hadn't even told her when the message had come through about her picking up the kids. All she had said was that if was convenient that Autumn take them to Betazed. Autumn was planning on going so she had agreed.. now she knew what had happened to her parents she wasn't in the mood to see anyone or do anything. She stood up and headed for her wardrobe to get changed into some workout clothes. Once she was dressed in track pants and singlet top and had the jumper tied around her waist and she had joggers on her feet she exited her quarters. With a sure footedness that belied her inner turmoil she all but ran down to the holodeck. Once at holodeck three she hit the program button and brought up a program she hadn't used in ages.

"Computer start Program hard yards."

Computer: initiating program

The black and yellow squares changed into a huge forest and Autumn strode into the thick of it and started running over logs. She wasn't leaving until she had completed the entire program. Almost two hours later she had only completed three of the five levels and her leg muscles were screaming at her. She couldn't just finish. She shut her eyes and rested for a second against a tree.

In her minds eye she could see her parents as she had last seen them.. before she had been posted on Galaxy smiling as the three of them had sat together with their numerous pets out on the back deck over looking their backyard. Her mother had made them have brunch on the deck that day to celebrate her daughters newest posting. Autumn's cat Patches had curled up on her lap and her mothers cat Tiger had been content to steal her fathers chair when he had gotten up to get more tea. Autumn remembered her fathers face when after he managed to get his seat back Tiger had jumped up onto his lap leaving hair all over his jeans and tee-shirt.

Autumn remembered her father and mothers joking argument that the cats had to go. Autumn had calmly interjected and said that if the cats went so did their Border Collie Bo. That had set her mother off on one of her tirades about daughters that should have been sent to a children's correction centre to learn better manners at young age. Autumn had laughed and told her mother that she would miss her Sunday morning breakfasts.

The next day she had left for Galaxy and she hadn't seen them since¡­ and now she had to deal with the fact that they were dead. Tears slid down her sweat and dirt marked face tracing tracks. She let herself slump to the ground and let them fall the scene of trees and dirt and the sound of rushing water surrounded the sobbing ensign.

((Ooc: this takes place before the captain gets back into our lives))

“Bitchy Comments From Tactical to Helm And Back”
By Ensign Heather Grant-Wellington, Helms Officer
And Ensign Jessie Parry, Tactical Officer

Jessie moved from tactical back up and made her way down to Heather’s console. The tactical console was getting conflicting readings from the Helm control. James was busy trying to allocate priority targets and Jessie knew that if she didn’t fix the problem they wouldn’t be alive to make those decisions. Crouching down beside Heather’s console she pulled the panel off the side and started checking the circuits. “What the hell are you doing?” “Your console is sending conflicting readings to Tactical.” “Why didn’t you just ask me to check the console readings?” “Well seeing that it was your driving that got us here… I didn’t think you needed the distraction.” Heather slightly shakes her head. She was not amused by the bitchy comment made by the unknown red head.

“Well sorry for driving in the wrong direction.” She says harshly.

“Hey not your fault you got you licence out of a cereal box.” Heather just glares out at the view screen, half tempted to give the girl a nasty hand expression. She can’t believe that she just said that., Jessie suddenly feels as if her back is full of knives and glances over her shoulder.

“I’m Jessie” she said wincing under sudden attack from the main tactical console.

At first Heather had no idea on how to react to such a comment. Then said “Nice to meet you Jessie” Jessie flashed a smile at Heather. “Sorry about my comments before. I was joking.” Heather gave a sideways glace at her. “Hey, I hate to sound a little dull, but I’m trying to focus on getting us out of this hell. So, do you mind?”

“No I baby-sit. Getting us out of here will be a lot easier after your console is fixed. You do know that tactical needs the information from your console if we are even to stand a chance?” Jessie glanced back at the main console as she flipped a few switches and recalibrated a few sensor relays.

Heather looks down at the console and said in her best Jack O’Neill voice “Yeah!!” Jessie smirked trying hard not to laugh at the look on Heather’s face. Heather returned her focus to the main viewer. Jessie looked towards the main viewer quickly as she worked away.

“Nice view isn’t it? All those Borg Cubes just waiting to assimilate us.” She muttered so only Heather could hear. Pushing a stray strand of bright red hair out of her face she sighed and watched as a few red lights on the panel in front of her went green.

Heather felt like decking her one. The last thing she needed right now was a red haired cow, who got over friendly with her superior officer on the battle bridge, reminding her of the situation she had just got them into.

“Look here you. I don’t need your shit right now. So, can you finish up, and ah, piss off back to your pashing session.” She spoke quietly, almost leaning fully towards Jessie.

Jessie stared back with shock horror written all over her face. After a split second she burst into quiet giggles. “Oh I do like you… you have a great sense of humour.” She whispered as the next lot of lights flickered and then stayed steady on green.

“Have you finished yet?” Heather asked impatiently.

“Almost give me another five mins and we should be back in business.” Jessie replied quietly.

“Thank-you.” Whispered a relieved Heather, who was finding it difficult to fully focus with Jessie working off to the side of her vision. Jessie continued on in silence, speeding up her actions, while Heather planned alternatives on how to rescue the Galaxy from the Borg version of the ‘Brier Patch’.

Jessie grinned at Heather’s stressed face. “I am almost done here” she murmured. “Do want a coffee or something?” Heather side glanced at Jessie for a brief moment. “Desprately. Can you get someone to get a white, strong cuppa coffee, with one sugar please? Oh, and look, I’m sorry for being bitch but this whole situation has me nerve rattled. Just, with having you in the corner of my eye fiddling around with the panel, it was distracting and it made me over react.” “Gotcha!” Jessie closed the panel and stood up. She smiled and went towards the nearest replicator. She grabbed a strong white coffee for Heather and a stong black herself. She handed the coffee to Heather. “There you go” she said.

Heather placed the conn on auto and then thanked her with a look of relief on her face. Then she took her time inhaling the aromas before taking her first sip.

Jessie smiled and said “ I’ll leave you to it.” Then headed back to her post beside Kincaid. Heather nodded as she continued drinking her coffee and watching what was going on.

"The times, they are a changing."
or
Ol' Joe cleans out his NPC house!

*(Long Log Alert!! Long Log Alert!! Hopefully there's a little something for everybody's tastes in here.)*

With Lt. (jg) Raven Darkstar (Security), Ensigns Heegour, Rastoff and Whitlock (NPC Security), Gunny (NPC Security), Ensign Kathleen Sierra (NPC Medical), Victor Wilson (NPC Homicidal Maniac), Ensign James Kelly (Deceased NPC), and last but not least Leo 'Streevok' Streely (NPC Journalist turned bartender.)

Whew! Here we go...

Time: After the Galaxy has returned to Starbase 114, their mission a success.
Location: Sickbay, USS GALAXY.

Raven stood and stared at the smooth black coffin.

He ran his calloused and battered hands across the engraved Star Fleet emblem. It was still difficult for the large security officer to accept that inside the casket lay the body of James Kelly.

His friend.

A man who had repeatedly asked for help. Who had found himself caught up in something he couldn't control. A man who had reached out to Raven.

A man Raven had ignored.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," a soft voice whispered next to him.

He turned to see Kathleen Sierra, dressed in civilian clothes. In her hand was a wadded up white tissue. Her eyes were slightly swollen and red. She sniffled as she looked at the coffin.

"He asked for my help and I walked away." Raven said stoically returning his gaze to the cylinder.

"You were on your way to an away mission. A mission that may have saved the lives of countless people."

"And I left him in the hands of the killer." Raven said brimming with anger. "A killer who was right next to me the whole time. Its my job to keep people safe. I have failed. I let him die."

Sierra turned him around and embraced him fiercely. Not knowing how to react, Raven stood somewhat awkwardly as the woman spoke. He could feel her tears soaking through his tunic.

"You didn't let him die, dammit. It was something you couldn't control. He looked up to you. You saved his life and mine back on Ursid. You caught the sick bastard that did this to him and saved another life in the process. You've done right by him, Raven." she said wiping her tears, while Darkstar remained motionless.

"She's right." An older woman said standing behind the pair. The security officer who had escorted the old woman kept his respectful distance near the doorway and stood at attention. Sierra hugged the woman who patted her gently on the back, then both women faced Darkstar.

"This is Helen, James' mother. She and I are going to take him home. Helen, this is..."

"I know who this is," the woman said walking to the casket and picking up the folded flag of the United Federation of Planets. She turned and looked at the Indian who was doing a Vulcan like job of suppressing the emotions that swirled just beneath the surface of his cool demeanor.

"James wrote about you all the time. He saw you as his brother. Ever since your experience on Ursid. Not a letter was written that he didn't mention something heroic you had done or how you had tried not to laugh at one of his jokes."

This caught raven by suprise. Since he had met James and Kathleen, they had remained together. At least once every two weeks they would get together and laugh and joke. Raven would do his part to act like he was indifferent to it all and that fueled their laughter even more. he had no idea what affect he had on James. He really didn't know what to say.

"Mrs. Kelly, I'm sorry for.."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, young man. You made my son's life a better place. You made him a better man with your friendship. You brought something special to his life," she held out the folded flag. "here. I want you to have this."

"I..I cant accept this Ma'am."

"You can, and you will." she said as she thrust it into his arms. "He would want you to have it. Every time you look at it you remember him. You remember the good times, not this..." she said looking at the coffin.

Raven nodded as the woman patted the back of his hand.

"I'm ready when you are, sweetheart." she said to Sierra.

The old woman walked to the door and stood next to the security officer as Kathleen moved closer to Raven.

"I don't know if I'm going to be back. I've lost something this trip. Not just Jimmy. Something more. I need time to clear my head. I'm going to take advantage of shore leave and go back home and see my family. After that, I just don't know. Don't you forget me, you hear?" she said with tears forming. " I expect you to write me whenever you can, telling me how you just single handily saved the day. I know a big tough guy like you can write when he wants to, ya lug. Don"t make me come looking for you. And if you ever see Leo again, tell him that I'm thinking of him every time I eat popcorn."

He reached a hand out and brushed back a stray lock of her hair. " I do not even want to know." he said, getting a giggle from her. She snapped to attention with a smile and saluted the senior officer.

"Permission to leave, Sir?" she asked making one final joke about their rank difference.

"Permission granted." he said and he watched them walk out the door. He stood for a moment, looking at the coffin one final time.

The security officer still in the doorway paused a moment before escorting the ladies off ship and nervously interrupted the brooding Indian. " Sir, they need you to sign off on the Victor Wilson transfer."

Raven nodded without looking back and placed his hand again on the casket lid.

"Good-bye, James."

*** Brig, USS GALAXY ***

Victor Wilson lay comfortably in his bunk in the tiny brig holding cell, his arms folded behind his head as he was lost in his own thoughts. For the most part, the wounds he had sustained in his encounter with the Indian security officer had healed.

His jaw still ached from being improperly reset.

He had complained about it but they didn't listen. That came as no suprise to him. Passionate men like himself had been persecuted throughout history. When time allowed it he would simply break it again and repair it properly.

He would bide his time, free himself whenever the simpletons made a mistake as they always did, and then he would plan. He would pay careful attention to detail and when he was convinced in the perfection of his plan, he would return for his Imzadi and together he and Rose would lead a life of love and adventure.

And he would also make sure that he had a little something special for his good friend...

"Lt. Darkstar." he said looking at the man standing on the other side of the forcefield. Behind him were two large no-nonsense Security officers no doubt here from Starbase 114 to take him into their custody. That suited Victor just fine. Transfers meant opportunity.

'I'm sorry I missed the funeral, partner." he said in his Tex Richey drawl, goading the bigger man. "I'm sure everyone loved poor ol Jimmy."

Raven snapped off the forcefeild. The other officers in the Brig tensed. One even went so far as to reach for the commlink, intent on calling Savat before she was stopped by her co-worker

All eyes watched nervously as Raven entered the cell. Victor to his credit didn't even move.

"Get up." Raven said.

"Go to hell, Big Chief." Victor whispered.

"Have it your way." Darkstar said then in one smooth and fluid movement he grabbed Wilson and flipped him face first onto the floor, kneeling with one knee painfully across the mans back.

"Very impressive, Lieutenant." Wilson growled."What are you going to do know? Smash my face in to the floor. Not very honorable now are you."

"As tempting as it is, I'm trying not to break a sweat today." Raven replied as he snapped a pair of manacles tightly on Victors wrists. Without moving his knee from Wilson's back, he moved down to the man's feet with another set of shackles.

'If you kick me, I will remove your legs and force feed them to you." Raven said clamping the leg irons in place. He lifted the immobilized man to his feet.

"I wont forget this.' Victor whispered.

"I'm not a hard man to find.." Raven said motioning to the Starbase security guards. They took a position on either side of the prisoner, lacing their arms through his.

"Get him off my ship." Darkstar said then the transporter beam enveloped the three and they disappeared in a swish of energy.

*** Meanwhile ***

Things had calmed down now without the Borg infesting the ship. People scurried about like ants repairing the damage the boarding had caused.

In the 10 Foreword specifically, there was much work to be done. Tables and chairs were replaced. Glasses, dishes, food and drink were restocked. ( Not re stalked!) Jago Jones, the 10-4 manager, wanted to make sure everything was in order before he let the customers come back in. Even the skeleton crew that was currently toiling on the ships repairs. He had called together his entire staff to help repair the place and suprisingly everyone had shown up, sacrificing a bit of their shore leave to repair their' home'.

They had worked diligently. Even Leo Streely managed to not screw up anything. Slowly but surely everything had managed to return to normal. Jago smiled broadly. The place wasn't finished yet, but he felt it looked better than ever. If they could thank the Borg for anything, it was the opportunity to renovate a bit.

"Great work everybody." he said to his assembled staff. "I thank you again for giving your time here to fix everything and I promise well be done by the end of the day and you can all get some much needed free time. Now all we have left to do is..

A small pudgy younger Bajoran man burst into the 10 Foreword.

"We're closed pal." Jones said. "Tomorrow we'll be open to repairmen only. If your looking for a meal you'll have to hit up the Starbase lounge."

"I'm not here for a drink. I need to speak to the Veddic." he said nodding to Leo, who was still disguised as a Vulcan veddic. "You are needed your excellency."

Leo looked a bit suprised. He arched his eyebrow in his best Vulcan imitation and asked.."What is it that is needed of me, not so little logical one?"

"We need you to perform the ritual of the Kirsumsies."

"Ah.." Leo lied. "I am familiar with the Curtsies. A ritual I have done many times. You have come to the proper place." He had no clue what was needed of him but after surviving candy, delivering a baby and battling back a group of Borg drones, he felt there was nothing he couldn't accomplish. He was hoping that he was needed to do something different like deflower the local virgin or something exciting. "I am ready to do my duty in a logical manner. With your permission of coarse." he asked Jago.

Jones just threw his hands up. "Why not, VEDDIC. Every time your in this place someone calls you out. Be my guest! Just do try to return if you could, your worship."

Leo, completely oblivious to the sarcasm, followed the Bajoran man out in to the hallway and to an apartment in the renovated residential section.

Inside he was greeted by 3 middle aged women in ornate robes. " I am the Veddic Streevok. I am here to serve the profits in the name of logic."

"Please veddic, come in. we are so blessed that you have the time to honor us with your timely presence." The matriarch said with a respectful bow.

"And I offer my services to you all." he said smiling at the three women.

"This way, please." They said guiding him to the bedroom. Leo couldn't believe his luck.

~ Oh, pinch me I must be dreamin! I'm about to walk headfirst into a bajoran Orgy. And they say rock stars get all the chicks! Oh man! I hope I remembered clean underwear. Hell, I hope I remembered underwear, period.! ~ he thought to himself as he was escorted into the decorated bedroom. Incense drifted in the air as candlelight swayed under the bedrooms own lighting.

At least these broads know how to set the mood - he thought as he looked around." Can we do something about the lights?" he asked thinking that it defeated the purpose of all the candles.

The blond woman answered. " If you wish Veddic. We just thought that it would be easier for you to do with more lighting."

~AND THEY'RE ALL LIGHTS ON CHICKS!!!~ Leo screamed in his mind as he nodded and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "I am ready." he said. "Lay it on me."

"We are ready to begin." the woman called out. Leo watched, slightly puzzled as from the adjoining room came a young well build male Bajoran. He let his robe fall to the floor. He was naked underneath.

"WHOA!! WHOA THERE!" Leo screamed leaping into the air.

"Don't you come near me with that thing!" he said. " I swear to God ill bring you down and make it hurt!" he shouted as he raised his hands and foot into the vaunted "Crane Technique" defensive stance.

"Veddic! What is wrong with you?!" The woman shouted as everyone else looked on in confusion. They had never seen a Veddic turn hostile before a circumcision, much less a supposedly emotionless Vulcan veddic.

"I don't know what you modern day Mansons expect - but I aint having no part of ol Tripod there, OK,OK?" he said crooking a thumb in the direction of the naked male.

"But..but its what Veddics do!" she protested, picking up a small sharp looking knife and moving slowly closer to the excited little humanoid.

"Here's a news flash for you Morticia Adams, I'm not even a real freaking Vulcan, OK? See?!" Leo cried yanking off the black wig he wore. "And if you get anycloser to me with that knife, so help me I'll have your nipples for keychains!"

Seeing the impostor in their midst, everyone in the room screamed. Leo screamed seeing the hysterical woman still holding the knife. In an amazing display of Synchronicity both Leo and everyone in the room hit their commbadges and simultaneously.

"SECURITY!!!" they shouted.

*** The hallways of the Galaxy.***

Raven stomped through the ships hallways. Construction workers hurried out of his path as he walked, not wanting to incur his wrath. When 5 simultaneous people sent in the call, his first impression was someone screwing around. For that he was grateful. dealing with pranksters would allow him to take his mind off things.

As he strode with visions of breaking bones dancing in his head, he nearly walked into the massive Ensign Boris Rastoff and the rest of the 'Misfits."

"Got- Damn, you almost run the man down. He survives the Borg and your stomach almost kills him." Gunny said.

"Is sorry. We must hurry to make good seat at buffet." the Russian said with his customary chuckle..

"Don't worry, Boris." Whitlock said. "Its a buffet. They wont run out of food."

He turned to Raven. "Sorry about that." he said as they all walked with him down the hall.

"Its all right. I take it you all are going for shore leave?"

"Those two are. Gunny is going to enroll in some survivalist military camp. Apparently he wants to learn how floss with barbed wire."

"Ya know Whitlock, yer lucky I like ya." Gunny said.

"Heegour is heading off to teach at the Jupitarian Institute of Music and Song."

Raven looked at the mute Heegour who let out a raspy, wordless moan from his missing voicebox. "What about you two?"

"Apparently Boris has found a buffet he wants to destroy and I just want to rest and unwind a bit. Maybe catch up on my sleep. Don't you ever rest? Where are you off to, now?"

"I'm going to make things secure."

"Don't hesitate to call us if you need us."

Raven nodded as the Misfits turned off down a hallway. It occurred to him as he walked that everyone he knew personally was now off the ship.

He saw a fat little Bajoran man standing nervously outside an apartment. Expertly he deduced that to be the location in question and he entered in his usual take no prisoners style to find 3 hysterical women - one brandishing a dagger, a naked male and .......Leo Streely!!!!!

"Oh your all in for an ass kickin now, ok!" Leo said then looked at Raven and shook what looked like a wig in his direction. "Go get 'em Partner!"

Raven just stared at the little man in stunned amazement.

"YOU!!!!" Raven yelled.

Leo suddenly found himself wishing he had just taken his chances with the three old women and the naked man.

"Rose's 25th Birthday"
By Lt. Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer

**September 1, 2377, Rose's Room**

Rose siting in her room thinking...today was her 25th birthday and she feel older than she should. So much have happen on this mission that make her rethink her life. But she was lucky to have so many friends on the Galaxy then she had on the Yorktown a few year ago.

Sitting at her desk she started out to make a list of people to come to her birthday party, there was so many people to invite.

Then she started feeling alittle sick to her stomach, "My gods what happing to me." then she ran into the restroom and threw up.

"Oh my gods no, please don't tell me that I prenancy if I am then Victor met his goal." Rose said to herself while changing into a clean uniform there was only one way to find out...take a prenancy test in sickbay.

"But if I am prenancy I keeping the baby." she said to herself while getting on the lift.

(OOC: Takes place shortly after the conclusion to "Queens are Wild"…. prior to the Galaxy's arrival Starbase 114)

"A Review of Rebecca von Ernst's Actions"

A Joint Post by
Commander Thomas
Lt. (j/g)Rebecca von Ernst

(USS Galaxy Bridge)

Commander Thomas finished speaking with the captain about the ship's current status and another issue. The discussion was only temporarily resolved for the moment, he wanted a more permanent resolution to the situation.

"Computer present location of Lt. (j/g)Rebecca von Ernst?" Commander Thomas asked.

**LIEUTENANT JUNIOR GRAGE VON ERNST IS PRESENTLY ON DECK 13 CETACEAN OPS**

Commander Thomas turned in that direction and proceed to find the Lt. While he disagreed with a number of things surrounding the current situation with the Lt, he didn't believe she deserved to be in the brig now or during the crisis. He'd much preferred to have security take her to her quarters or just reroute her attempts to reach the bridge.

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

(Deck 13)

Rebecca von Ernst sat alone in the small, darkened viewing lounge just off the main Whale Tanks on Deck 13. The quiet, rarely-visited room with its simple furnishings and dramatic floor-to-ceiling Viewing port had provided the skittish young officer with many hours of blissful, contemplative solitude since her arrival on the GALAXY.

Here she could curl up on one of the plush couches, cradle a mug of hot cocoa on her lap, and stare in awe at the massive Sea-Going Mammals who dipped and turned with graceful majesty. Every now and then one of the peaceful creatures would glide in close to the glass, and consider the tiny redhead with a single thoughtful eye. Intelligence lived in that eye, and Rebecca could sometimes almost make out what they were trying to say to her……A strange silent communication between the leviathan and the pixie.

Unfortunately that was in the past.

Cetacean Ops had been one of the focal points of contest during the recent struggle with the Borg, and the small Viewing lounge was in shambles. Millions of razor-sharp shards of glass littered the carpet, the remains of the smashed-in window caught in the unfortunate crossfire between man and cyborg.

Every inch of the small lounge was soaked and squishy with saltwater, and even perched as she was on the edge of the small couch, Rebecca could feel the chill of the water seeping through the seat of her pants.

She ignored the dampness and stared silently instead at the cavernous bay, of what was once the main Whale Tank. The two-deck area, was now empty and drained, its former occupants the whales having died a slow painful death in the sudden exposure of their once peaceful home.

It wasn't the lack of water, for certainly the air-breathing mammals could have survived for some time ( albeit uncomfortably ) in the open, but rather the sudden forceful draining of the tank, had slammed them painfully against the bulkheads shattering even their massive bones instantly.

Rebecca had arrived from the Brig just in time to see a team from The Biosciences Division putting the terrified animals out of their miseries before transporting the bodies out into the void.

To Rebecca, the absence of one of the few things on board that gave her pleasure was merely the latest in a long line of tragedies to befall her. So she had sat alone and now quite wet in the cold damp room staring at the empty bay. Where else was there to go after all?

Behind her, she heard the soft crunch and squish of someone stepping onto one of the many glass shards and crushing it into the wet carpet.

"Lt. Rebecca von Ernst" Commander Thomas said from the doorway seeing the girl perched atop one of the lounge's couches. He wrinkled his nose at the slight smell of mildew already setting in. Too bad there were so many other systems on a higher priority for repair all over the ship.

Rebecca flinched slightly at the sound of Thomas's voice, and turned her head slowly to see the tall First Officer standing in the entranceway.

"A…a…aye…sir." She whispered, still deeply distraught over recent events. "I…I…I got your note sir….I'm not on duty now….I just…just…" She shrugged not knowing what to say.

Commander Thomas nodded. "I want you to understand the decision was based on the best interest of the ship, Lt." Chris said stepping into the room and hearing the squishing rug under his feet. "You also should know Lt. that sending you to the brig wasn't my idea or by the direction of my orders. Security likely miss understood the orders, because of the situation acting on their own."

Rebecca shrugged allowing her eyes to trail back towards the empty tank. Idly she wondered if her little lounge would be replaced once they made it back to SpaceDock. "A…aye sir." She mumbled. Despite the incongruity of it all, her little trip to the brig really wasn’t bothering her too much. There were too many other things to worry about. Nilani…..Corgan……and especially Surok when ever she tracked him down. She had been relied to hear the Captain's Away Team had returned, and she assumed the slim Vulcan was somewhere off making a report on the expedition. She'd run into him later sometime, and explain her feelings.

Commander Thomas stopped about mid way into the room. "Rebecca I would like to know why you weren't on the bridge?" Chris asked. "I am asking you this because there's going to be a formal inquiry about your actions and failure to be on the bridge for duty."

Rebecca turned her head again, shifting slightly on the damp couch. "A formal Inquiry?" she asked, "I…I…uh…..ok…I guess." Another bit of confusion to add to the mess. So far as she was aware she had only been a bit late for her shift due to some early morning queasiness. After that, the Captain had banished her from the bridge in favor of Ensign Parry, and she then remained at the Deck 11 Tactical Planning Offices until her rather unexpected trip to the local clink.

"I…uh….sorry sir….I was a bit ill this morning….and….well…. sorry I was late." She stuttered at last.

Chris was reluctant to read anything into or out of her reactions. She did seem to be withdrawn from the situation, but he wasn't a counselor.

Rebecca fidgeted uncomfortably under the First Officer's piercing stare. She wasn’t quite sure what he wanted from her, but she began to feel awfully guilty without knowing why.

Maybe it was because she was sitting her doing nothing with water soaking her butt. Well, she WAS presently relived of all duties, so she didn’t really know what else to do. All the Holodecks were down to conserve power, and she really didn’t use the silly things that much anyway. She hadn't figured she would have been in anybody's way down here on Deck 13, but maybe Commander Thomas was picky about these things.

Blushing slightly she sat wondering what she was supposed to do next.

"Um…" she said at length, "Did you mean now sir?"

Commander Thomas smiled, "The formal inquiry won't occur until after reach a Starbase and can get help from the engineers repairing the ship. You should see some of the decks, Lt. von Ernst, you wouldn't even know they were decks of this ship." Chris said as he considered things.

Rebecca nodded silently. The long climb up from Deck 38 (or wherever the Brig is) had given her a lot of opportunity to take in the amount of damage delivered to the GALAXY. She had passed corridors where scattered family members huddled together mourning the loss of a loved one. She also had to step around some bodies laying draped with sheets in the middle of the hallway. The Medical Retrieval teams were sorely overtaxed in the calamities aftermath.

It only brought home to her the sheer overwhelming responsibilities she had….or used to have as Chief of Tactical. A position thrust upon her suddenly and unexpectedly, and taken away just as swiftly. She wondered if things would have been different had she been on the bridge……Would things have been worse? The weight of her task pressed heavily on her thin shoulders.

Chris looked around, "The whales that were in the tank, did we lose them?"

Rebecca nodded again. "A…aye. They had to be put to sleep and the b…b….bodies spaced……No room in Deep Storage. Too many other people to put in there."

Thomas sighed and considered the remnants of the lounge, its fragile peacefulness shattered by the recent violence.

"A….At least the C…Captain made it back right sir?" Rebecca stammered trying to fill the uneasy silence. "I'm sorry I distracted him before he left, but I'm glad he and Surok and the others are okay."

~~Especially Surok~~ she thought, wondering where she could find him.

Thomas turned to consider Rebecca evenly, "We lost many people to the Borg. I should let you know that Lt. Commander Surok didn't make it back with the away team." he said, not sure if it was a good idea. "I thought you should know."

Rebecca's heart skipped a beat.

And then another…..before regaining its rhythm with a painful 'thud'. "D…d…didn't?" she managed to whisper before the pain in her heart stole her breath away. She worked her jaw noiselessly, casting about the shattered lounge in confusion….in shock.

"Didn't?" she repeated again tiny jewels forming at the corners of her great brown eyes, her heart shifting into overdrive, and her breathing coming quick painful. Was it possible for an already shattered world to collapse more?

Was it possible that the Fates could bring her to such a low, and then shove her even lower? She looked up with glistening eyes at Thomas's face, searching his hard features for some sign that it was all a mistake…….no mistake.

The tears fell silently and without fanfare. Though her heart twisted painfully in the horror of it all, she remained quite still outwardly save for a slight trembling in her shoulders, that could have been excused as from the chilled dampness of the lounge.

Chris remained quiet as she reacted to the news about the chief operations officer. He hadn't been aware of any special connection between the two, but perhaps it was nothing more than Rebecca's nerves.

~~~Alone~~~ the single word echoed through the dark labyrinth of Rebecca's mind. ~~~I've nothing left to loose…I'm so alone.~~~

Commander Thomas wasn't sure what to do at this point, but he realized she needed some sort of reassurance. Chris walked over to the young officer and placed his hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, but I figured you'd rather hear from me then by someone else just walking by you." Chris said not expecting a response on her part.

She flinched slightly at the easy touch to her shoulder, but merely bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She said nothing in reply.

"I am heading to the main bridge to start work on restoring life support. Once that's done I plan to announce a funeral service for those officers who died, including Lt. Commander Surok." Chris said. "I would like you to be on the bridge in uniform and ready to take your station, if you're up to it." He asked.

Rebecca's eyes flicked up to meet his. "A s…s…service?" She asked. Briefly the images of her own father's funeral procession marching up a long snowy hill flashed through her mind. The memory of herself….the young girl in the puffy winter's coat marching alongside her poor mother clutching her mittens with her own.

Rebecca closed her eyes. The blessing and the curse of so perfect a memory was the pain of having to relive these epic moments in life.

"If you're willing I will authorize you to return to limited work duty, but until the hearings over the tactical station on the bridge will be off limits expect for this service." Commander Thomas offered her a chance to help the ship and herself.

A single tear streamed down a freckled cheek, but she nodded. She felt dead inside, and with that realization came the notion that nothing could touch her now. ~~~What is there to fear if I have lost everything already? Nothing remains but Duty.~~~

Commander Thomas patted her on the back one more time in condolence, before turning to leave for the bridge. He still didn't want her at tactical, not until the hearing was over and punishment or counseling was hand down at the very least. Her tactical skills were good, but her ability to perform the position in this environment was lacking.

Alone again in the soaking lounge, the tiny redhead was left with the echoes of the past.

Dead Father…….

Dead Whales……..

Dead Surok…….

Dead Rebecca…..

"Trawling the Paperwork"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Acting Chief of Operations

Lexa sat at the desk in the OPS office. She was trawling through paperwork of all kinds: duty rosters, duty logs, mission logs, scheduling logs, requests for power, requests for sensors, and general OPS messages.

Anything to keep her mind off recent events. With brisk efficiency PADDs were transferred from the towering stack on right side of the desk (the IN tray) to neat piles on the left side of the desk (the OUT tray) as her mind concentrated itself on the tasks at hand. She focused on the mundane, the normal, the everyday business of running the OPS department after major battles and the death of its chief.

Across the room at her former desk (that of Assistant Chief) a green light blinked indicating an incoming personal message. Lexa saw is out of the corner of her eye and ignored it. She filled out the duty roster for the next month and moved on to the duty logs filed over the past week. The light blinked. She read them and approved them. She sorted them and moved on to the task of writing a mission log. The light blinked as she wrote of the ship's battles with the Borg, their boarding, the diversion of power to the new weapons and armor, the problems due to ship damage, the assumed loss of the majority of the senior officers and their subsequent return minus the OPS chief, the power diversion to the cargo bay for the Borg alcove, and how that diversion was effecting the rest of the ship. The light blinked. She began scheduling sensors. The light blinked.

Lexa put the PADD down and turned to stare at the blinking light. "What do you want? I'm busy."

[ Please re-state the nature of your request. ]

Lexa sighed. "Transfer most recent personal message from console OAC245632 to this terminal."

[ Acknowledged ... Transfer complete. ]

Lexa turned back to the desk as the light blinked off across the room. Her eyes fell on the blinking light right in front of her. Her hand reached out and touched the chilled control panel, accessing the message. It was from the medical lab.

----------

TO: Dr Todd Sansky
FROM: Medical Lab A15
RE: Recent Tests

The recent tests sent to this lab have shown no sign of fluids other than blood. There were no foreign hairs present. Bruising is consistent with rape. The blood is that of the patient. As per request, it has been determined that the blood could be from the missing hymen, though there was extensive internal tearing of the uterine wall. There is no further information at this time.

CC: Lt jg Electra Reece

----------

Lexa deleted the message, swallowed hard to rid her throat of its lump, shook her head, and turned back to the scheduling log.

"Damage Report and Time to Repair"
by Commander Thomas
& Captain Price
USS Galaxy

Commander Thomas entered the captain's ready room after the captain departed the bridge. Chris had some things to take care of before he proceed to speak with the captain in a few hours.

*** Later ***

Commander Thomas left the bridge and headed up to the captain's quarters. With the damage to the ship and such he had to reroute around sections of the ship three times to reach the captain's quarters.

Chris tapped the door's chime. He wasn't looking forward to giving the captain the news about the ship's damage report as of ten minutes ago. Engineering was still working over time to get the critical systems back up.

From within the Captain's quarters the General's voice could be heard calling "Come in 'mate." The door swished open as Chris entered, where he found the Captain resting on his sofa relaxing with an arm over his head. When Lee saw his First Officer enter, he got upright and prepared to hear the Commander's report.

"Sorry to disturb you captain, but I've got some news you might be interested in hearing." Commander Thomas said.

"Of course Commander. Please, make yourself comfortable." Lee offered, motioning to the living area.

"I thought you might be interested in hearing the current report from engineering about the damage done to the ship, by 'Sly'." Chris said as he had a padd in hand to give the captain a report.

Lee took the padd, and began scanning over the listed damage reported to the USS Galaxy. It was a very long, extensive list. The Captain began flipping through the various screens of data and was surprised at the shear number of pages.

"The damage to the ship is as follows; Our shields have been stabilized, but are holding around 79% right now. The level is partially due to the structural damage done to the ship. Engineerings current estimate is to have the shields restored to 95% in thirty minutes." Chris said pausing to see if the captain had any comments.

Lee nodded, still looking at the padd and flipping through the damage. He was sure Starfleet was going to be giving him hell for wrecking the ship once again. On just the prior mission the Galaxy sustained heavy damage. Now with this mission, they looked to once again be heading back to a Starbase for extensive repairs. Hopefully the fact that the Galaxy and her crew saved the free galaxy from annihilation by the Borg will count for something.

With the captain not having any verbal comments at the moment, the commander continued "Currently the forward torpedo launcher remains off-line," Chris informed, "Evidently an overloaded phaser on the deck just below the launcher made spaghetti out of the launch and loading controls."

Captain Price looked up from the padd at Commander Thomas. "An overloaded phaser? Cri-key!, we are lucky the outer bulkhead held and everyone on deck wasn't blasted out into space."

Chris nodded. "Yes sir. Anyway, the blast melted the control interface to the launchers and so the entire harness will need to be replaced to get forward tubes operational again. Engineering is estimating to have the launcher fully restored in two hours seventeen minutes. Moving on, sir. The ship's phasers are down to 74% operational status/ with the port array on the dorsal section of the saucer being inoperable. Engineering and tactical teams are working to restore phaser status, but there's no estimates to repairing the dorsal array on the port side." Commander Thomas said as the report was in many cases the same as it was when he received it prior to the captain's return to the ship.

Lee shook his head letting his thought be know, "Starfleet is going to love us for the shape the Galaxy's in now 'mate. We just had her overhauled less then a month ago."

"Well, at least she's still in one piece. Mostly." Chris pointed out. "Also we have decks 3 through 13, sections 15 to 18 were removed from the saucer by the Borg. Forcefields are in place, but with power limitations I've ordered the surrounded three sections on each deck evacuated." Chris said reading the same information Lt. Commander T'Zaq had given. "That was T'Zaq's report two hours ago, sir. Engineering and security has since evacuated sections 13 to 14 and 19 to 20 on the same decks. The repairs will require space dock and probably two plus weeks to fix the hole." Commander Thomas said, adding, "Since the generators for the ablative armor were housed in some of those sections, the new regenerative armor will remain off-line until those sections can be replaced."

"Lovely." The Captain said rolling his eyes upwards. "That, or course is assuming Starfleet has the spare Galaxy class parts to fix her up."

Chris could see the captain was getting tired of this report. "Just a little more sir."

"Sorry 'mate. By all means, continue. You are doing a bonzer job." Lee stated, acknowledging that his frustrations were not with his First Officer or his performance, but with the dread of having to report this damage to his superiors at Starfleet Head Quarters.

"Transporters 2 & 4 are off-line and won't be fixed for seventeen hours minimal. Our power is limited through out the ship and engineering has order power conservation through out the ship. following items are off-line; holodecks, unused decks lighting reduced to minimal, used lighting reduced by 10 to 20%." Commander Thomas worked to warp up the damage report to the captain quickly. "Also lastly sir, life-support has failed on the main bridge, along with decks 1 & 4, 9, 18, 23 and 27 in various sections."

"Well I guess we should count our blessings that the ship is still in one piece, and that we have power to Impulse and Warp drive." The Captain finally looked on the brighter side of things. He was understating the fact that they had reunified the Borg collective and put an end to the civil war that threatened to destroy the majority of the Galaxy.

"We took a beating sir, I also agree with an engineering statement, given this is the second time in a very short time span there's going to be more Starfleet's going to do this time. I suspect we're looking at total of 6 weeks for the ship to be in space dock." Chris said.

"Depending on replacement part availability." The Captain nodded.

"Of course." Chris agreed. Commander Thomas wasn't hesitant to shuffle the subject, but it was important. "Sir there's something else you should know." Chris said.

Looking directly at the Commander, Lee asked, "What is that 'mate?"

"Lt. von Ernst was escorted to the brig. I think she got there, but she should be free now." Chris said.

The Captain's eyebrows furrowed. Lee was less then pleased with the Starfleet sponsored hot-shot tactician's performance. But she was a good officer. Certainly not the sort that typically landed up in the Brig of the ship. "The Brig? Whatever for Commander?"

"A misunderstanding between myself and security. Her failure to appear on the bridge after you beamed over to the ship and lack of appearance prior to that lead me to the conclusion she was a risk at the station. I ordered security to keep her off the brig and relived her of duty." Commander Thomas said.

Lee nodded. Von Ernst had disappeared from the bridge while being relieved from duty for a regular break. But when the Red Alert Battle Stations sounded, that was the universal cue for all Senior Officers that were able to report to their stations. Rebecca had failed to do so. Granted she was filling in as Acting Chief Tactical Officer after Richeson got injured, but still, Von Ernst should have known her duty responsibilities and been on the bridge when it was required. "Well I can certainly understand why you gave that order 'mate. But how did that land the Lieutenant' into the Brig?"

"When Von Ernst attempted to reach the battle bridge, she was insistent, and that lead to her arrest and detainment by Security. Regardless of what happened, she's a risk on the bridge sir." Commander Thomas.

"Well, I'll be the first to agree that the Lieutenant' for all her gifts as a tactician, doesn't display the assertiveness of command or project the assertiveness needed to be a successful Tactical Officer on a Galaxy Class starship. If it weren't for the fact that Admiral Hoth at Starfleet Command pulled some strings to get Von Ernst an assignment here, I might be inclined to suggest a departmental change for the Lieutenant'. Gifted or not, I get the distinct impression miss Von Ernst' heart isn't in the direction Starfleet Command has her pointed in. "However I will definitely bring these concerns up with the Admiral when we return home 'mate."

Commander Thomas handed the captain another PADD, "My professional opinion and evaluation of the Lt.'s performance to date sir, please see that the Admiral is made of aware of my own concerns." Chris said. "If there's nothing else sir, I'm needed elsewhere."

Captain Price nodded, "Dismissed."

Commander Thomas departed the captain's quarters with being dismissed. He wanted to stop by and check on his wife quickly before heading off to deal with some other concerns.

"Being ready to face the World Again"
By Lt jg Autumn Jamieson

Autumn walked out of the holodeck after her long cry. She took off her communicator and held it in her hand. She was half tempted to throw it in the nearest garbage receptacle and resign from Starfleet.

But could she do it.. that would mean leaving her friends. Slowly she closed her hand over the small metal badge. She couldn’t let this life get to her. She walked back to her room. As she approached her room she could see people hovering around in groups.

“What’s going on ensign?” She asked a man in a red uniform.

“They are just staying clear of that ma’am.” he pointed towards a door. Autumn moved past quickly her medic training flooding into her mind. when she entered the room she found medics already there. The body was of a person who had been partly assimilated by the Borg onslaught. ‘As in ewww’ she thought as she moved back to allow them the room to do their job.

Leaving the scene Autumn made her way towards her room further down the corridors. As she walked her mind wandered. she seemed to move on autopilot as her thoughts moved from person to person that she knew on galaxy. Jessie had been rather quiet lately Autumn made a mental note to go and see her soon. Rose she hadn’t seen since the attack and she was concerned for her friend. Wilhem she also hadn’t seen. She had slowly stopped sending messages to him as she had feeling that it was best left alone.

She opened the door to her room and sighed to see her cousins sitting on her couch.

“What are you two up to?” she asked softly. Carrie turned and jumped off the couch and ran to her. Autumn was a taken back as Carrie threw her arms around her waist.

“Is it true?” Asked Craig as he rose as well.

“Is what true Craig?” Autumn asked as she slowly hugged Carrie back.

“That auntie Lois and uncle Benton are … are …are…” he trailed of as Autumn lowered her head in an affirmative gesture.

After hugging both the children Autumn stood and smiled. “Give me half an hour and then we can go and go something together ok?” the kids nodded and sat back down. Autumn headed for the shower she really needed one.

After showering and dressed in a dress for like the first time in her life she led the kids out of the apartment. She had deliberately left her com in her rooms. Nothing was going to ruin the rest of her day with her cousins. they walked down the halls to the newly repaired turbo lifts. Autumn sighed as they entered and she announced the deck “Ten Forward.”

The Lift shot downwards and when the doors opened Autumn took a child’s hand in each of hers and led the way into ten forward. People stared as they entered and Autumn ignoring the looks led the way to a booth by the window. A waiter walked over to them and Autumn allowed the children to order whatever they wanted.

While they ate Autumn pulled out a PADD and downloaded her messages. Among them she found her new rank and that she was suddenly Ast chief of Medical. ‘What the….’ she thought as she read them. Craig and Carrie were looking out the window talking between themselves. She couldn’t smile no matter how much she tried… now she had the added stress of her new job to add to the rest of everything that had been happening.

Turning she saw Wilhem enter the room and her heart did a flip. ‘oh boy’she thought. 'Take a deep breath Autumn and face the world' Her mind taunted her.

"Homecoming Parade"
Starring: The Great Lady Herself…USS GALAXY

Starbase 114 hung like a jewel in the endless night of space. Its vast gleaming bulkheads stretched in all directions glowing softly in the light of Eternity.

Inside its massive Space Doors, a Royal Parade was in session. A veritable ballroom dance of starship princesses and their shuttle craft courtiers.

Great Ladies of the Stars slipped to and fro through the busy traffic pattern in a silent but graceful dance. The aforementioned shuttled darted in and amongst their great floating Mistresses, guiding and attending to their every need.

Now and again the Great Doors would slide open, allowing a new Dancer to enter from the void outside, to slip silently into the internal ball-room orchestrations of docking-maneuvers. Then in turn one of the gliding Starships would take their leave of the Parade, and drift gracefully out into the void, eager to seek out the endless stars that was its true home.

Off in the corner a Grand Empress of the Stars, a sleek-lined Excelsior class vessel, blazed to life. One by one brilliant running lights powered up, illuminating the great gleaming surfaces of the vast metal hull clothing the lady in a royal gown of lights, and crowning her with flashing strobes.

While the Empresses' cold dark Main deflector dish took on a warm blue glow, the Starbase's Internal Spotlights swung around to bathe the Starship in an angelic haze of light, and tracing her long lines lovingly in an intimate embrace of illumination.

But this Lady was too coy to flirt with mere Starbase spotlights, she sought greater lovers amongst the stars, and ever so slowly slipped into forward motion, almost imperceptibly at first, but gradually increasing speed.

An entourage of shuttle craft swooped in to escort the departing Empress as she gathered up her skirts of light and slipped slowly and silently towards the gaping space doors. The trailing fingers of the spotlights reached out after her in an unrequited embrace, but the great lady turned her hull without a backwards glance and sailed out into the night, a slender sliver of metal, alone against the stars.

But then just as the Empress departed, a new lady appeared on the Dance's doorsteps. A fallen princess who paused to wipe her muddy shoes before entering, ere she spoil the splendor of the ball.

The other starships paused in their traffic patterns to consider the newcomer, sucking in their breath at the sight of her appearance.

The USS Galaxy was horribly disfigured and scarr

ed as she slipped inside the Starbase 114 doors. Her once pristine hull bore the savage marks of some lusty assailant deep amongst the stars. The other ladies were shocked to say the least, but the proud regal way their sister carried herself slowly into her berth spoke volumes to them.

'I may have met the rapist alone in the night, but I did not submit quietly and my honor is intact.'

Dotted over by escorting shuttles, Galaxy at long last took her repose. Battered and bruised, and witness to unspeakable horrors, she still had her pride and royal bearing.

=/\= "SpaceDock acknowledges USS Galaxy Arrival…..welcome home." =/\=

Maybe she was too weak to glide and dance with the other ladies…….But Starships are not built for Dancing.

=/\= "Up To Date" =/\=
by Lt jg Gary Trabuco
Security USS Galaxy

*** Seven days ago, Earth ***

The desk where lieutenant' Trabuco took his personal call was in a dimly lit room a few meters away from his assigned duty station. A patrol CPO relieved him so he could come into the tiny room for privacy.

"Dad, I'm not worried about it," Gary said to his father's image on the viewscreen. "The Galaxy is a very elite ship and I have little chance of returning to her."

His father's reply was disapproving. "Gary Trabuco, you are my son and you always make me proud. Such cynicism is unworthy of a man in our family."

"I'm sorry, Dad, but the officers I served with on the Galaxy have all passed me in rank long ago. My career isn't notable enough for Captain Price to want me back," he explained to his father with an air of world-wisdom.

Fernando Trabuco smiled at his son from the tiny screen. "Be confident, my son. That is all I ask." He glanced to one side and smiled at an unseen person off-screen. "Well, Gary, I must go. Lunch rush is beginning. Good-bye!" The Trabuco family restaurant was very popular, and lunch was always a crunch time for the staff who operated a dining room, a take-out window, and a catering service daily.

"Bye, Dad. Give Mom a kiss for me!" he said just before his father disconnected the call.

Gary stood from the small desk and stepped contentedly from the room and back to his duty station. There at the Security Checkpoint stood his partner Jean-Philippe and CPO Christopher. The checkpoint was ten meters inside the Admiral's Gate, on the west side of Starfleet Headquarters Tower. This entry was the direct access to the offices of the handful of Admirals with duty stations on Earth.

Len Christopher smiled and slugged Jean-Philippe in the shoulder good-naturedly. "Right, that's what she said!" he joked. He turned to look at Gary, and said, "Lieutenant', I was just telling the ensign here about the Veddic, the Priest and the Rabbi."

Gary's mouth lifted on one side, in a half-smile. "Which one? Are they orbital sky diving, showing up in the afterlife, or fishing?" He arrived at the checkpoint and tapped the small control panel to log back on duty.

Len snorted, "You've heard 'em all, haven't you, sir?"

"I try to keep up. Did I miss any Brass?" he asked ensign Matisse.

Jean-Philippe shook his head. "Nope. Admiral Paltrow is due any minute, though."

CPO Christopher soon went about his patrolling, leaving the officers to monitor their equipment. A pair of Commanders passed through, carrying nothing more threatening that sealed attaches. A quick scan confirmed that no weapons were hidden in the packages, and after a few formalities the two officers were allowed to pass into the building.

The tall, cut-crystal doors slid apart to admit another party. Sunlight refracted through the crystal as it always did on a clear morning, casting bars of multicolored light on the slate floor of the foyer.

Admiral Paltrow and her two staffers entered with long strides, talking loudly and importantly as they approached the checkpoint. Paltrow was a busy woman, with dozens of projects going simultaneously. But when she noticed someone, her attention was like twin laserbeams.

She looked at Gary that way. She smiled and said, "lieutenant' Trabuco. I understand you've put in for a transfer to the USS Galaxy." He stiffly replied in the affirmative. She nodded once and simply said, "We're going to miss you around here. I hope you enjoy your new post; you leave tomorrow."

*** Starbase 114, present ***

*I guess it pays to be on friendly terms with the Admiralty,* Gary mused with mental sarcasm. He didn't really want to be among the stars again. Yes he did! No, he didn't. Hell, he didn't know what he wanted. *I was happy.*

Gary turned a corner and walked into the mess hall that boasted a hundred-and-fifty degree view of the StarShip berths. He stepped up onto the upper level, and wandered toward an empty table. While he walked, his eyes scanned the berths, seeking the USS Galaxy. He began to feel the pangs of homesickness he never thought he'd feel about the great lady. Yes, he did miss her. She was once his home, and he had friends there.

He kept looking for the Galaxy class ship. Just as he was lowering himself into a seat, he spotted her. An Ambassador class ship was passing before the Galaxy, and she was revealed slowly as the other ship passed. Gary sucked air in a hissing gasp. *Oh lord!* he thought, *what the hell happened?*

Workbees swarmed about her, and EV suited engineers crawled across her hull. Great gashes of scorched and torn metal peppered the ship, exposing structural members in a dozen places. Gary knew the telltale work of Borg cutting beams when he saw it.

He fell into his seat, staring slack-jawed at his ship. The Galaxy was his first posting, four years before. He served on her for less than two years before being slagged by a Jem Hadar sonofabitch with good aim and poor timing. It looked as if the ship continued to get herself into near-fatal predicaments.

He looked down at the PADD he held. It read, 'Current duty roster -- Security Department -- USS Galaxy.' *Check it out!* he exclaimed to himself, *Lieutenant commander Elaiithin Jii! Fantastic.* He was glad to see that an officer he knew was running the department. He also recognized several other friends: Brightspot, Astrid Salt, Lexana Ral, and even his long-time nemesis, lieutenant Heather Sanchez!

Of course, his best friend was not on the list. Matthew was off serving on a new ship, now.

He put the thought out of his mind, and determinedly pushed aside gloomy thoughts brought about by the Galaxy's distressed condition. As much as he might have wanted to avoid it, he was officially back on the front lines of StarFleet. He might as well make the best of it!

"Jessie meet you worse nightmare"
By Lt (jg) Jessie Parry
With NPC's Bosco, Simon, Serena and Brian

Jessie walked down the corridors of the Galaxy. she was now off duty and was set on relaxing totally.

Dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt she was planning on just walking and maybe checking out that Borg drone that Price had given quarters to in a cargo bay. So Voyager like and Seven of Nine like it wasn’t funny. Rounding the corner Jessie ran smack bang into Serena.

‘Oh great!’ she thought as she picked herself off the ground. ‘Didn’t I say I wanted to relax… what isn’t anyone up there listening to me?’

Serena’s blue eyes scanned Jessie’s lithe form , filled with contempt for the new Lt jg she couldn’t help the look of pure hatred that went over her face.

“Well, well, well “ she all but snarled. “Look what shagging a superior officer gets you.. a promotion.”

Jessie took a step back and tried hard not snarl back. “I got this promotion due to my seriousness about my duties. Serena take that poisonous mouth of yours and ... oh I don’t know.. bite a bulk head or something constructive” ‘Before I disregard protocol and ask Three of four to assimilate you’ she added in her mind.

Serena stepped right up into Jessie’s face and snarled. “You are such a bitch Jessie Parry is it any wonder that Simon gave up on you.”

“Really and then its obvious that he found you.. well I hope that you both will be happy together.” Jessie stepped around and past her determined to keep on walking when Simon stepped out of the room and blocked her path.

“Oh what is this ‘Rub-Our-Relationship-In-Jessie’s-face’ day?” she asked now starting to get pissed off. “You know you two need a life that is so far removed from mine it isn’t funny.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw Serena moving to block her path behind her.

“Ok now this is no longer funny” she said as she tried to step around Simon but he mimicked her every move.

“What’s the matter Jess?” he asked and Jessie stopped and looked at him. “Don’t you want to be our friend anymore?”

“Sure friends are fine when they aren’t snapping at you insulting you and calling you every name under the sun.” Jessie replied trying hard to think of a way out of this situation.

Simon smiled and Serena smirked. “We aren’t the ones who turned their back on their friends the moment they see an opportunity to get a head in Starfleet. by taking up with a superior officer.”

“That’s it I have had enough!” Jessie pushed him away from her. She moved past the stunned man and strode off down the corridor. Serena grabbed Simon and took off after her.

“Not so fast bitch!” Serena said grabbing at Jessie’s arm. Jessie whirled and glared. “Leave me the fuck alone before I report you both!”

“What’s the matter has the little Princess lost her nerve?” Simon taunted and Jessie paled slightly. The way he said it made her blood run cold.

Shrugging them off she took off at a brisk jog ‘About time those sessions with Sanchez paid off ‘ she thought as she pelted around the corner and ducked past a number of crew members. She could hear Simon and Serena behind her trying to catch up with her but she defiantly wasn’t slowing.. they were up to something and she didn’t really want to find out what.

Rounding corner after corner she spotted the banks of turbo lifts and picked up speed. She all but dove into the lift as the doors opened and she hastily apologised to the officer leaving the lift as she nearly hit him full on.

“Deck 11” she gasped out leaning against the wall. But before the doors closed Simon managed to slip into the lift. ‘Drat’ she thought. ‘But at least he is alone’

“What now Simon?” she asked slightly concerned. She was alone in a turbolift with Simon someone she had trusted but now she trusted no one.. except maybe James. “I think we need to talk Jess”

“No we don’t” she replied.’

“Yes we do.. I want to know if you dumped me for Kincaid or if you just dumped me because you felt like it.”

“I didn’t dump you as we were never going out. One date does not a relationship make.” She stated at him.

He moved closer but didn’t get any closer then a step before the doors opened on deck 11 and Jessie bolted past him running towards the tactical department.

She pelted past Bosco and Brian and looked around for James. She moved to her desk and hit her terminal. Brian glared at her.

“Not one word Brian!” she snapped at him. “I don’t need any more shit today so shut up and piss off.”

After Brian has left she sat down and tried to calm her self. “Computer compose message to Lt James Kincaid.

To Lt jg James Kincaid
From Lt jg Jessie Parry
Re: I think we need to talk.

James
You might have heard via rumour about me having been attacked just before you arrived on galaxy. I think you deserve to know more and maybe if you can help me with a little problem that I have encountered. Yours Jessie

Computer send message”

Computer: message sent.

Jessie sat at her desk wondering what to do about Simon and Serena. They knew something and were up to something of that she was darn certain.. And knowing her luck it most likely involved her.

"Till nanoprobe do us part."

Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder - Chief Engineer
Ensign Savanna Worthington-Security
Ensign Stephie Morris-NPC Security
Lt. Elaine O'Hare-NPC Security
Cadet Tom Jason - Engineer

"Wor!!!!!........Resistance is futile." The voice shrill, it's high octive drew not only Savanna's attention, but every other security and engineering officer within earshot. Heads whipped around and phaser's lit up the lower engineering level. It was a fantastic thing to behold. Machine against man.

The six Borg showed no emotion, quite the contrast of the humans that were shooting. O'Hare was defiantly the superior officer on the security end of the ensuing battle. Her stance rigid, her face, set in stone. Savanna knew instantly, that even if she was brash, she knew what the hell she was doing.

"Protect the core!!!!" O'Hare bellowed from her position. Her phasers drawn she was shooting the hell out of the department in all aspects to protect her fellow officers.

Savanna, in the midst of the chaos, just stood staring with her head tilted to the side. Morris was curled in a corner. In some aspects, it wasn't Morris, and in others it was still her partner. Stepping forward, she watched slowly as Steph stood. Black tubes and mechanisms extruded her skin.

What happened?

O'Hare's eyes grew wide. "What the hell are you doing Worthington?????

HEY!!! Worthington????!!!!!" No words could protrude the officers attention. That being the case, O'Hare sighed, lowered her phaser and set it on the lowest possible setting. Aiming with perfection, Elaine shot twice, gracing Savanna's right and left shoulders with delicate phaser burns.

"Stephanie?" The pain did not register at all. Her head still tilted to the side, Savanna didn't understand what was happening. Morris's face was an ashen color. Outstretching her fingers, she continued to walk forward to her partner. "Resistance is futile." Droned Morris in an extremely monitoned voice.

Ethan could sense something was wrong as he approached Engineering. As he got closer, he could hear the faint sound of phaser fire. He running down the corridor and entered Engineering. Several sparks flew from above the door. There seemed to be some sort of panic running through his department.

He walked forward looking around, trying to figure out what was going on.

That's when he saw the Borg, doing the Borg thing, assimilating.

He glanced around againa dn saw Savanna near her friend Morris. Stepping closer he saw that Morris had fallen victim to the Borg and was in the process of being assimilated. Her hand was held out to Savanna who was stepping closer and closer to Morris.

"Savanna!" Ethan managed to yell over the phaser fire and curses coming from the Engineering and Security officers. Ethan instantly ran towards Savanna as he saw Morris getting closer and closer. Just beyond Savanna, there were two Borg attacking two Engineers. Ethan jumped towards Savanna knocking them both to the deck. No doubt, that woke Savanna up from her trance.

"Savanna!" he called out again. He turned his attention to one of the Borg walking towards him. He grabbed his Torsin weapon from under his Engineerign jacket and flicked his wrist a little. The blades came out of either end. The Borg walked into one of the blades as it extended. Ethan then pulled the blade out of the Borg and his the Borg's face as hard as he could with the other end of the blade. The drone fell to the deck, a large slice in his face, clearly he was not functioning anymore.

"Ethan?" She spoke quietly and in amazement. Things were clearing now, followed by a headache of mass proportions.

One of the Borg drones threw Cadet Jason back into Ethan. Ethan fell against a console and dropped his weapon. He didn't have time to pick it up as the Borg drone was right in front of him moving his hands towards Ethan in an attempt to assimilate him. Ethan in turn grabbed the Borg's arms and was trying to push him away. Ethan knew he was

physically fit and all, but even the Borg were too strong for him. He pushed as hard as he could and was even pushing off the console behind him with his feet. Ethan glanced over at Savanna who was looking at Morris. "Savanna!" he called out through clenched teeth. His eyes pointed to a phaser near Savanna when he caught her attention. "Use it!" he ordered.

Rolling to the left, Savanna clenched the phaser and rose it up gracefully, despite the shakiness that was in her. Glancing over at Ethan, she spoke. "I loved........." Firing her weapon, she felt a new surge of strength renew in her as she viewed what was once her partner crash to the floor in convolutions.

Cadet Jason grabbed a sharp engineering tool and stuck it into the Borg's abdominal area. It's grasp on Ethan was eased slightly, giving Ethan enough time to take his weapon off the Cadet. He stuck one of the blades through the Borgs chest. A little spark erupted from the Borg's circuits and it crumpled on the floor in a heap.

Ethan looked around, the other few Borg seemed to have been eliminated. There was one Borg, laying on t he floor, sort of crawling towards the warp core with one of it's arms reaching towards it. The Borg were determined to complete their mission, Ethan had to give them credit for that. But that was all he could give them at this point. He walked over to the drone and raised his weapon. After a second of thought, he drove the spearlike weapon through Borg's back. Pinned to the deck, Ethan ripped out his weapon and flicked his wrist a little, causing the blades to disappear into the hilt of the weapon.

There didn't seem to be any casualties, until he turned and saw Savanna and her partner. He hooked his weapon on the clip under his jacket and strolled over to Savanna. He knelt down next to her, not saying anything, giving her time to do what she needed to do. After a few moments, he then placed his arm around her and looked at her partner.

Raising her head, Savanna leveled her eyes with Ethan's. "I loved her."

Sighing, she leaned down and gingerly removed Morris's Academy ring from her ring finger on her left hand and placed in on her right index finger.

Knitting her eyebrows, she posed a question to Ethan. "Do you think that she felt much pain?"

Ethan thought about what to say. No doubt the truth would have to be told.

"I don't know," he replied quietly. "According to Starfleet records, assimilation is instant, there's probably a few seconds of confusion, but I don't think there was that much pain. You did her a favor today. Freeing a trapped soul that was under the Collective's leash." Ethan explained. "I suppose so....." She stated quietly.

Things in Engineering seemed to be returning to normal. Engineers were assessing the damage of their own phaser fire while Security Officers confirmed the deactivation of the Borg drones.

“Welcoming Sleep”
By Ensign Heather Grant-Wellington

Finally, she was able to step away from the conn and take a breather. Now that they were safely back in the Alpha Quadrant, Heather was able to hand the helm back to her flight control back up and go get some rest. Last she heard, Gustavson was still receiving medical treatment and Remy was presumed trapped in another part of the ship. Due to the condition of the ship, she had to take the long way around to her quarters, making the trip seem forever. By the time she reached Deck 3, she felt tired and had a craving for a large block of Cadbury Caramello chocolate. She was glad that Deck 3 still had some life support, just enough for her to crawl into her comf double size bunk and crash into the hopefully dreamless depths of sleep.

As she passed around yet another corner, she almost fell over an engineer working on a panel, in among a lot of debris.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She gasped, regaining her balance.

The young man glanced up with a warm smile. “No, you’re right Heather. Are you ok?” She frowned at the standing, attractive officer, unsure of how he knew her name.

“Ah, you don’t remember.”

“Sorry.” She responded, sounding geniuenlly embarrassed.

“Ensign San Diego. I met you at the holodeck party.” Heather took a moment to register the night in perspective. Once she put two and two together, she smiled.

“Hey, umm, yeah thanks for taking me back to my quarters and for not taking advantage of my state. I truly apologise for my off condition.” “No worries. Besides, I don’t do women not in a sober state. Anyway, I should be the one apologising, afterall I was the one who dragged you out onto the dance floor.” Heather giggled. She remembed having too much to drink and getting friendly with someone, but that was about all.

“Ah, can I come and see you later? I just have to scan the panels on this deck.” She thought about his request. “I have to go back on duty in twelve hours, then I have my counselling shift. So, perhaps tomorrow?” San Diego nodded his head. “Tomorrow then. Meantime, I think you should get plenty of rest.” “Oh trust me, I intend to sleep until my next shift begins.” She stepped closer. “Just curious., do you do women you’ve only just met?” The ensign gazed deeply into her eyes, wondering if she was for real. “It depends on the woman. Why?” “Would I fall into the category of ‘it depends on the woman’?” San Diego became anxious, realising that the very over tired ensign standing very close to him was serious. “Why don’t I trial you tomorrow, after you have had plenty of sleep?” “I look forward to it. Though, I warn you, it has being a while.” “Until tomorrow.”

She nodded her head with one of her excited smiles and continued on her way, not wishing for the ensign to fall behind in his work. San Diego watched her go until she disappeared around the next bend, a large grin splashed across his face.

“DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?”

By: Lt. Samthia Wej
With an unauthorized appearance by Commander Peterson

It had been a gift. A simple burgundy leather coloured notebook with plain unlined pages. On the inside cover, inscribed were the words “To infinity and beyond…, Michael.” It had been a Christmas present. Now, two years later, the golden gilt of the pages were dog eared and the cramped handwritten notes and sketches had filled nearly a third of the book.

Samthia re-read her last entry:

The away team is lost. Galaxy is under siege by the Borg. Hope of a safe return grows dim may be my last entry. I fear nothing, but I regret everything. I’m sorry Michael, that I could not find you in time. I’m sorry, Fox, that I could not bring Michael back.

The words had smeared down the middle where a tear had splashed and trickled over the brief but desperate entry.

Samthia was tempted to rip the last page from the journal. Instead, she picked up the quill and dipped it into an inkwell. Her quarters were darkened and the candlelight was voluntary. All power was being routed to where it was needed the most…. And officers’ quarters were quite low on the priority list.

The mission is over. Galaxy will be returning to Starbase 114. Commander Thomas bartered a truce, and I have been given the chance to enter the Nexus.

Samthia put the quill down and ran the recent events through her head.

Firstly, the re-appearance of Commander Peterson: She had been in the crow’s nest, mapping the Delta quadrant when she heard his voice.

=^= flashback

“WEJ!”

Samthia shook her head. Now she was hearing voices in her head. She checked her chronometer. Seven hours had passed.

“WEJ!”

This time Samthia peered over the railing. Commander Peterson stood on the deck below, his hands on his hips, a slight look of annoyance on his face… and something else.

She didn’t wait for the lift. Instead, Samthia slid down the pole and landed softly. “Commander!! You’re alive!”

“Peterson smiled, but the smile was on his lips only. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…”

Samthia was tempted to retort, “So do you Commander… so do you…” but thought better of it. There was something in her superior officer’s eyes that made her keep her distance.

Samthia cleared her throat. “You wanted to see me Sir.” She reminded him.

This time his smile was genuine. “You are hereby promoted to the rank of Lieutenant, junior grade with all of the privileges usually assigned. Oh, and your mission to the Nexus has been approved.” He said handing her a PADD with her assignment “rubber stamped” by Captain Price.

Samthia nearly jumped into his arms. Barely able to contain her excitement, Samthia managed to blurt out something completely inappropriate.

“Commander.. thank you, Commander.. I would kiss you but it could kill you.”

It was a feminine display of the worst kind. But Ray Peterson had grown accustomed to the usually reserved Deltan. It was the first time he came face to face with the stellar cartographer’s natural exuberance, and he found himself grinning.

“So I’ve heard.” He muttered under his breath.

“Pardon me?”

“Dismissed… Lieutenant.”

=^= The doors to her quarters whooshed open and Lt. Faustine “The Fox” Margolies marched in.

Samthia closed her journal and stood up preparing for the storm that was about to be unleashed. Fox held in her hand the PADD containing the away team assignments for the Nexus.

“DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?” she shouted, punctuating every word with a sideways nod of her head and ending it with a stamp of her foot.

Lt. Samthia Wej
Stellar cartography

"The Birthday party planner"
By Lt (jg) Autumn Jamieson, Medical Officer

Autumn walked briskly down the hall towards her office. She entered it and slumped down at the desk. She brought up her electronic diary and read through the day's events. There sitting at the top of the list was a note that read. 'Rose Mac Allan's Birthday'

Autumn groaned. She had completely forgotten. With all that had been happening she had completely forgotten Rose's Birthday.

She hastily typed out a message to Commander Thomas asking a favor and then she composed the second message to the main body of the crew minus Rose of course.

She would think of some other way to get Rose to the party. Maybe that shopping program.

To Commander Thomas
From Lt (jg) Jamieson
Regarding: Holodeck reservations.

Sir,

It has come to my attention that It is Rose Mac Allan's Birthday. And As it is such I was hoping to throw her a birthday party. On the holodeck. I am aware of the fact that the Holodecks on Galaxy aren't working at this point in time. I was wondering on the procedure of reserving one of the ones on the star base. Any information that you can give me would be greatly appreciated. Also it would be a pleasure to see you and your Wife at the party once it has been arranged. I hope that this doesn't take to much time out of your schedule. Thank you for your time.

Lt (jg) Jameison.

Autumn hit the send button and watched as the message was sent.

"Ok message two" she sighed and spoke it out loud. "Computer compose Message to all crew members except Lt Mac Allan." Computer: Working.

To everyone.
From Dr Jamieson
Re: Rose Mac Allan's Birthday

Okay here's the deal. Rose is turning 25. Surprise party anyone? Good. Well the details are to follow but most likely will be on a holodeck on the Starbase. Am taking reservations now because if I wait any longer she'll think we forgot. Please send you RSVP's to me ASAP.

Autumn Jamieson

Computer send message."

Computer task complete.

Autumn sat back and tried to think of a way to get Rose to the party without her becoming suspicious. She had just come up with the best idea when a knock at her door startled her out of her day dream.

"Yes?" she asked and Lemur stuck his head in the door.

"Lt?"

"Yes Lt?"

"Um your first patient is here." The Vulcan said without a smile.

"Thanks Lemur kind of dazed this morning." She replied with a smile. She stood up and followed Lemur out into the main med bay.

“The Fields of Dead/Back from the Dead”
By Lieutenant jg James Lionel Corgan
Security Officer, USS Galaxy

Location: Shuttlebay 3 (temporary sickbay)

The bodies of the dead lie everywhere.

Such is the life of James Lionel Corgan. Death, everywhere he goes, every small corner that he peers into, even the ones where light does not shine, death always follows. The self proclaimation of himself being the ‘Archangel of Death’ was all too true in himself.

He was part of a new generation of Starfleet. Not a generation born into awe and amazement of the unknown. Not one that embraced the stars likes a beautiful beau at the ballroom. His generation wasn’t the explorers, the researchers or the artisans of the past and the possible future. No, his generation was born into war. Brought up on propaganda of the Borg, wounded in spirit by the nefarious actions of the Klingon War and the Dominion War, his generation saw horrors that only the Terrans of World War Three and the Earth/Romulan War had the sick privilege of witnessing. That generation had enemies, powerful enemies that for the first time had Humans thinking of true, bloody hate towards others. The next generation didn’t become like their fathers and grandfathers before them. The new generation of Starfleet became fighting men and women, soldiers of a great and powerful Federation, ready to lay down their lives for Paradise.

James realized this. He was a product of this generation. If he was born even fifty years ago, he would have been like his Uncle Brian Corgan.

Probably end up being a musician, a guitar player, one of the few electric guitar players in the entire sector. His songs would have been beautiful, happy, always singing praise about the day, or how great life was at the moment, or maybe even about love untainted by broken hearts and dreams. Even twenty years ago, the Universe was such a beautiful and loving place to be in. But… he wasn’t living in the year 2327. This was 2377. Everyone his age that he knew was a combat veteran. Almost everyone had a story about the war, or some skirmish with such and such alien race. Borg were being preached as the enemy, Klingons could barely be trusted, even though they helped bring the Dominion to it’s knees after making peace with the Federation, and the Dominion’s name itself was always spoken with dread or disdain.

He was a product of the war generation. A fighting machine, forced to put his conscious aside, murder hundreds of other combatants in the galactic coliseum, and call it ‘war’ for justification. He used cruel means to make sure he not only stayed alive, but also win.

Not once did he think of the consequences. He wasn’t taught to have compassion for the enemy anymore; that was a waste of time, time needed to get to the objective. The same ‘by any means necessary’ mindset used to take Jem’Hadar fortifications and ships was carried on in his investigation on the ‘Poet’. So what if his friends could be hurt by the lies he spun? That bastard was going down, ‘by any means necessary’. The result, one scared and hurt woman who, for the first time, said ‘I hate you’ to another human being, and the potential for another friendship to be torn asunder and cast into the cosmic winds, never to be seen again. Was this the regular inner workings of what was supposed to be Federation citizens? No, that was the old generation. Welcome to the new generation, the generation of the endless streams of bitter, self hating, destructive little Corgans. The new generation didn’t know how to heal, just how to hurt. James was the perfect example of what happens when you combine a whole age group of citizens, raise them to fight the enemy, and find that the years of teaching from the old generation conflict with the new ethos. In other words, these trained soldiers had souls that felt guilty for their actions. Just like James.

Adding to more injury, the almost selfish way he killed his opponents threw his mind into chaos. He

was taught, by the older generation, that life was valuable and not meant to be wasted away. So why did so many people have to die? The Borg invasion of the Galaxy killed officer after officer, and assimilated many more. Such a useless waste of life, and James was once again the witness to it all. He was the testament of the times, soon to be a useless relic not that peace finally comes. Fifty years from now, he would be a middle aged man of 76, and old grizzled war veteran that the other officers look at like he was an oddity, a man of a different time, who did deplorable things. A memory of the time when Starfleet’s heart turned black as night. Look on him, laugh at him, call him and old fool who’s thinking doesn’t reflect the times. He’ll still have his memories of the events that unfolded, and that is the burden of his shame.

He came from a dark time, where there was only war, and that in turn turned him into an ‘Archangel of Death’.

James thought of all this, as he slumbered in the temporary sickbay, for he wasn’t really awake. He was dreaming…

Of the bodies of the dead laying everywhere.

Torn asunder.

Cast into the cosmic winds.

He was surrounded by what was once a peaceful meadow, not soaked in the blood of a thousand enemies. Borg, Cardassian, Starfleet, even Jem’Hadar and Vorta lie in various poses. Some just slumped on the grassy ground. Others were impaled by jagged looking pikes, suspending their bodies in the air for all to see. Even his friends were in the mix. Ensign Sotek, James’ Vulcan friend from back in the Academy, clutched at a sucking chest wound in her dying moment, her face froze in shock for being not only dead, but experiencing negative emotion for the first time in her life. Rebecca hung from a tree, her neck wrapped around by thin wire and tied to a thick branch. The wire looked like one of James’ suicide methods, the guitar string. His sister Courtney was one of the impaled victims, her white gloves stained in crimson as the hands attached to them dangled uselessly. Electra bleed slightly from the mouth, her neck snapped in a disgusting angle, while Ensign Kotobuki lie right beside her, with three disrupter wounds to the chest. More familiar faces showed up, such as his parents with burns that looked like they were from an exploding console, to the venerable Heather Sanchez whom had phaser burns almost everywhere on her body, while she still clutched a phaser rifle, and others almost too high to count. The Cardassian he snipered at the Bajoran embassy, the Jem’Hadar he killed on a ship boarding, many Borg corpses and even children littered the killing fields.

He looked around the feel in absolute horror. ~~”Everyone around me dies…”~~ repeated in his brain until an interruption broke his thinking. Out of nowhere, literally nowhere, an angel appeared. Dressed in a black robe, with a black cape held together on the neck by a small golden skull, the grey winged angel landed. He swung it’s scythe with expert precision, clearing a tree out of the way that hung the body of Rebecca Von Erst. Both her and the tree fell to make way for the new arrival.

The dream being planted its scythe firmly into the ground, then pulled away it’s mask. He had golden hair, hiding his forehead and lining his ears. His jaws were only slightly squared, more delicate than expected from a man, and gray eyes that spoke volumes of the atrocities he has seen.

James Corgan ended up looking at himself, the Archangel of Death.

“How does it feel?” The angel asked James, before grabbing his scythe from the earth. Raising the bladed weapon high above his head, the angel swing viciously downwards to split James into two.

He longed for death. Now moving, he waited for the blade to kill him off. Closing his eyes, he felt afraid of what would happen when the scythe fulfilled his final destiny.

And then he awakend. Cursing himself for not being able to see the end of his death in a dream, James sprang up from his bed and saw his surroundings.

A Runabout slept beside him, the runabout ‘Saskatchewan’, as emblazoned on the side of the hull. He noticed the bandages on his sore and aching wounds, and the total lack of uniform as he felt his clean, white gown and bedsheets.

~~”How did I end up here?”~~ He asked, his head leveling to the height of the Saskatchewan’s painted on red lily. His last waking memory ambushed him, dragging the truth dangerously close to him mind. A glory charge, one last act of defiance before he would be dragged into the night, never to be seen by friends or family (if he had any remaining). The disrupter wounds didn’t burn as badly as before, since the medics must have patched him up. He checked the bandage on his shoulder, peeling it off a little to look inside.

The wound was healed, with a soft pink patch of skin as its replacement. Parts of a tattoo of an angel carrying a sword were missing. He cursed the wound; it ruined his favorite tattoo.

~~”Well,”~~ he thought, ~~”I’m here, and I look ok. I guess I can get out of here, if those meddlesome doctors allow it to be so. I’ll just get out of bed and talk to the nearest doc about all this and…”~~

Too late! The vigilant eyes of the medical staff spotted one of their patients moving out of his bed. Quick as a flash, a nurse was on James like a Tarkallian Razor Beast, putting her hands on his shoulders and laying him back down on the bed. James tried to resist, but found that his muscles weren’t responding the way they were supposed to. His head even spun from rising out of bed.

“You stay right here hotshot,” She said. “We just reconstructed a portion of your right shoulder and left thigh, and you’ve been sleeping for the past forty eight hours. We can’t let you go for at least an hour.

“It’s been that long?” he asked the nurse. Looking closer, he noticed the grooves in her nose. She was Bajoran, but not somebody familiar to him. And he knew of half the nurses in sickbay because at least a quarter of the staff had experiences with his injuries, and weekly prescriptions of anti-depressants.

“Oh yes, it’s been that long. You should have heard Lt. Sanchez swearing about carrying you to sickbay.” The Bajoran Nurse quoted, “She swore that you’d have her phaser rifle rammed up your ass and fired on setting 16. Sounds like she cares… and that would hurt.”

“Let’s just say that I’d literally disappear off the face of the ship and never come back. Ash to ash, dust to dust and whatnot. I wouldn’t be missed.” James mumbled his answer.

“Well, that’s a gloomy way of looking at things.” The nurse conversed, “You have a strange way of seeing life, like it’s a waste of time. Not exactly Starfleet of you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, something like that. I guess you haven’t paid attention to the rumor mill, haven’t you?”

“Well… no. I try not to pay attention to all that. It’s a waste of time and rumors can hurt another person. Why? Is there something I should know?”

James paused, thinking of what to say to the hospitable nurse. She was nice, which made him hold back his spiteful tongue. He couldn’t resist wanting to shove the nurse away. All that sickening kindness, topped off by a sour mood, a lack of anti depressants and caffeine, and the traumatic events of the Borg battle soured his mood to the point that human contact felt repulsive to him.

Finally, he answered, “Yes. You don’t need to know who I am, just know that I’m the… exception to the rule. I’m a bad person. Trust me on this. If I’m to stay here for awhile, all I ask is that I get my privacy, and maybe a PADD to pass the time. Deal?”

“Ok,” She reluctantly started to scoot off, talking as she walked away, “But if you need a friend…”

“Lady, I can’t even keep most of my friends alive, much less the same that they’ve always been. New friends just complicate matters. May I please get a PADD and some peace and quiet?” He said, in a sterner, more no-nonsense tone. The nurse walked off, forlorn, hurt, and curious as to why the security officer acted in such a fashion. She couldn’t blame the poor man, for she seen what the Borg did to the crew when she tended to the wounded.

As she searched for a spare PADD, James stared at the ceiling and listened in on the dying moans of fellow wounded officers. The spirits themselves groaned in agony with the wounded men and women, adding to the crescendo, the musical of death, the crossroad of life, the grief that tears couldn’t express properly. ~~”Purgutory, between life and death, always suffering. Is that what my life really is?”~~ He asked, “~~Just waiting to die to escape a life that’s worth sh!t? I can’t kill myself, but everyone else around me dies. In a sense, I die with them. It’s just that I have to live the longest to suffer more.”~~

The Bajoran nurse placed a PADD in his hands, and a tray of replicated food on his lap. There were steamed Algavian chickpeas, Terran Carrots, and even some Terran Corn piled beside a lump of mashed potatoes and gravy, and smattering of a pale stew of some sorts with an odor that made him want to gag. He ignored the food on his lap and accessed the ship’s computer network on his PADD. He retrieved his messages, all three of them. Two were mostly ship updates involving the security department.

The third one piqued his interest. It was signed by Courtney Fiona Corgan, the CEO of ‘Smashed Up Sanity’ Incorporated.

“Incorporated? What’s the deal with that?” He spoke, accessing the message. It read…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
TO: Lieutenant jg. James Lionel Corgan, USS Galaxy
FROM: Courtney Fiona Corgan, CEO of ‘Smashed Up Sanity’ Incorporated, New Orleans, Earth.
RE: ‘The San Francisco Sessions’ Album.
FWD: Ensign Sotek USS Tokyo, Lieutenant Jg. Gerald Morton Chin’toka VI Monitoring Station, Ensign Lita Jordan Jupiter Research Station, Ensign Hikari Jo’hann USS Toronto.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

~“No way…”~ He thought. The ‘San Francisco Sessions’ was supposed to be The Lost Souls second album, highlighting the song he performed at the 2374 Federation Music, Art and Culture Festival. They were classic songs from obscure rock musicians and a few others from the ‘Deux Ex’ album. ~”That album was supposed to be lost in red tape.”~

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It is to my great forture that I can announce that the Federation Institute of Arts and Culture finally approved the live album! Who would have thought those old fossils could approve something other than classical or jazz? I know how happy you guys are to have your second album released (especially you, bro! J ) Therefore, as a promotion, I would like all the band members to host concerts at your respected assignments. Everyone except Gerald will have to put on a concert in their holodecks (Too bad those monitor stations don’t have holodecks. Sorry Gerald.) by next Friday. You may set up at your own discretion, since I know how much Lita loves to set up the holostage.

Oh, and how’s the third album going?

Courtney Fiona Corgan, CEO of ‘Smashed Up Sanity’ Incorporated.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

James didn’t smile when good news came in. Too many other bad things on his mind muted out the excitement that he would have expressed as close as a week ago. His first plan was to get the guitar back, but it was in the care of Electra Reece. He wanted to avoid talking to her for all the shame he felt. It was inevitable, he had to see her. For self promotion, for apologizing, for a friend, or maybe just for the hell of it. He had to go.

As soon as he finished his stew and convinced a nurse to let him walk free.

Title: Psychological Wej
by Counselor Shinta and Lt. Wej

Shinta was pleased with herself the interview with ensign Margolis had gone exceptionally well. She looked who was next on the list. Lt. Wej, was also due for psychological evaluation. So she send a short note to the young woman.

=^=

Samthia quickly read the brief message. It was from Counselor Maxwell.

"Lt. Wej, Please make an appointment to see me as soon as is convenient for you. Your psychological evaluation is due.

Sincerely,

Lt. Max well- Navarre Shinta"

Samthia glanced at her agenda. Damn! she thought. She was basically at liberty until the delta shift.

=^= Shinta's Office

Shinta made her office ready for the next client. She always preferred the office to look homely, and not like a doctor's office. Having to see a counselor was bad enough for most people. So she made sure there were flowers, and lots of old furniture. A little later she heard the chime of the bell.

"Come in." She said.

Before seeing the woman, Shinta had taken the time to read her file, and to read up on Deltans in general. They were a fascinating race, but Shinta thought they would probably be very lonely. Often they would be assigned to ships in pairs, because for them making contact with humans was so difficult. So it troubled her little bit that this young woman was here on her own.

"Have a seat, Ensign. would you like something to drink?" She asked to break the ice.

Samthia declined and sat casually in the old upholstered chair designed to make people feel comfortable and to put them at ease. Her eyes shifted around the room, taking in the floral arrangement.

But it wasn't the flowers that made Samthia smile. It was Shinta herself. Call it sixth sense, or chemistry, or what you will, Samthia knew a kindred spirit when she saw one.

"Ensign, I've never met anyone from Delta IV before, but I hear it's a lovely planet. Do you miss home "

Samthia smiled wistfully as the image of her homeworld appeared in her mind.

"No more or no less than anyone else serving in interstellar space."

"Is that a yes or no." Shinta asked.

"Seyalia. The planet is named Seyalia. It is the fifth planet of the star system Delta Tricatu. And it is as beautiful as everyone says it is. Lush, green, with cities above and beneath the ground. And I miss everything about it.. the forests, the wines... the men!"

"Is that very hard for you? I know that your people are not allowed to form sexual relationships with anybody outside your own race. You must miss that dreadfully, the companionship." Shinta said, observing the other woman closely. It had been a problem on other ships, that was why counselors always watched Deltans very closely.

"I traded one set of social behaviour rules for another when I signed on to Starfleet, Counselor. Yes, it is difficult." Wej admitted, "but not impossible." she added with a smile.

"Ah! You're referring to the Oath of Celibacy." Shinta asked.

Samthia acknowledged with a nod.

"No personal relationships that would threaten your Oath?" Shinta had to ask.

"None in existence." Samthia answered.

Shinta kocked her head. "The way you say that, there was somebody?" She asked. "Just tell me if am snooping, but counselors are inquisitive by nature." She smiled.

Samthia smiled back wistfully. "Long ago and far away. In any event, you may rest assured that my oath is in no danger of being compromised."

Famous last words. Shinta thought, but if she had any doubts, she had no cause to voice them at this time. Instead she tried a more direct tactic.

"Commander Peterson reports that you spend a great deal of time in Stellar Cartography."

"Is that a concern?" Samthia asked.

"No. But all work and no play isn't good either." Shinta noted. "The Galaxy isn't just a starship... it's a community... you should ..."

"form relationships?" Wej finished for her.

It wasn't exactly how Shinta would have put it. But it did illustrate the Samthia Wej's particularly unique situation.

" Yes, that is what I mean. Tell me, do you have some good friends on board? People you can share everything with." She asked. That could take some off the strain of not having a lover away. She knew that herself.

Samthia smiled mysteriously. "Well, there is the Fox. But I'm not so sure if you can describe that as a friendship... more like a ... "

"sister?" Shinta finished.

"Yes... a little sister."

Shinta smiled. "I know Fox, I like her a lot. In fact I think she and I will become friends. Why would you call her a little sister, and not a friend? Can you explain that?"

Wej leaned forward and placed her forearms, gently crossed, on Shinta's desk.

We are past being friends, Counselor. I suppose I have certain obligations towards Fox. Obligations I am not at liberty to discuss.

Shinta nodded. It was a beginning. She knew that she would learn more, but not today. She smiled. "I understand." she said, willing to leave well enough alone, for now.

‘Tests’

Lieutenant Jg Todd Sansky
Medical Doctor
USS Galaxy

Lieutenant Rose MacAllen
Science officer
USS Galaxy

After docking at Starbase 114 the engineers had finally repaired the damage to deck 12 and medical was back in sickbay. Todd was bustling around sickbay performing his new duties when Rose MacAllen entered with a rather grim look on her face but nevertheless forcing a smile.

‘Hiya rose, what can I do for you, hey what do u think of my latest pip?’ Todd had been promoted after his performance in the prior mission and wasn’t afraid to show his pride. Rose tried to smile for her friend’s sake, she wasn't promoted she just got kidnapped and raped. The crew didn't give a damn what happened to her not ever her own Captain.

She said nothing to him and just came out with, ‘"I need a pregnancy test Todd.’ They both shared an awkward silence. Todd knew what she was asking and the implications if she was pregnant.

‘Have you had any symptoms, sickness, cravings, mood swings?’ "Yes, craving to kill somebody for not promoting me to Lt Commander." Rose said very upset. Todd was taken aback, that didn’t sound like the friend he’d known for years. He moved her over to one of the beds lining the wall of the room ‘Listen, calm down, have a seat, I know what you’ve been through and I know you are angry, but hey you still out rank me. Todd jested to try and lift the mood ‘My father was Lt Commander before my age, I’m fixing to be 25 on the first of September.’ ‘You are your own person with your own achievements, now take a seat while I go get my tricorder.’ Todd left her and moved across sickbay before returning with the scanner. He moved the device over Rose’s stomach while she cried.

‘Not being promoted makes me look like such a failure, my father was lieutenant commander when he was 25. I’m not!’ ‘You’re really beat up about this promotion aren’t you? I have told you that you are not your father, your you.’ Rose continued to weep ‘My ex boyfriend is Lt Commander and the man who betrayed my love is also Lt Commander I’m just a damn nobody since I got raped...that I couldn't help my crew as a normal officer can do.’ Todd could sense how low she was as he grimaced at the scan results. He frowned and looked at her.

‘I’m afraid this isn’t just about you, your pregnant Rose, I’m sorry.’ ‘God knows what man would want me now.’ ‘I don’t mean to sound cold, but are you going to keep the baby?’ Rose looked at him with tears running down her face and turned away.

‘Tell me is it a girl, 75% Betazoid and 25% Human?’ Rose asked him still looking away ‘Its a girl alright, 75% Betazoid 25% Human.’ Todd couldn’t tell if that was the news she wanted to hear or not.

‘Signs show she is perfectly healthy.’ Rose still continued to cry despite Todd’s efforts.

‘Come on old friend what’s really the matter?’ ‘My ex boyfriend won't take me back now since I’m going to have a baby, everybody I know got a new rank but me.’ Rose said thinking about killing herself maybe that would make everybody happy.

‘Look if this guy loves you then he will be fine once you explain and as for your promotion I’m sure you will get one soon enough.’ "No I will just be passed up again." Rose told him very mad at the Captain for been this way towards her.

‘After what we have been through you should be happy to be alive, we all should.’ Todd had flash backs of his experience with the Borg, the death, the fighting.

"I think everybody would be happy if I was dead." Rose said in a cold voice, now she wished she hadn't said it. Todd grabbed her and glared at her ‘Stop it now Rose, your being selfish. To be frank you need to grow up and realize the world doesn’t revolve around you. People lost their lives on this ship, my friends, even my mother was assimilated by the Borg and my oldest friend was attacked. Rose felt like her heart had been poked out when he said that, she was ashamed of herself for been selfish but she was taught that way, "I’m so sorry if I made you angry my old friend." she said while looking away ashamed.

‘Forget it you’ve been through a lot for one person, we all have, and we will go through more before this baby is born. But together we will get through this and you will make a proud mother.’ Rose looked paler and depressed, ashamed about what she was in life then she started shaking.

"I’m so sorry about your mother, my father died during the war." Rose said trying to lie down on the bio bed to stop herself from shaking. Todd injected her with a sedative to calm her down.

‘I’m going to schedule you an appointment with Counselor Dallas.’ "I don't need no counselor they will just put me in the nut house." Rose told him trying to smile but couldn’t.

‘Well how about dinner when I get back from Earth to talk about what we are going to do and catch up on things.’ ‘Sure. What will my friends think about me having a baby when I don't even have a boyfriend anymore?" Rose asked him trying to fix her long brown hair up in a tight bun.

‘Who cares, we can keep this to ourselves till we have the opportunity to work out a solution.’ Todd moved in to hug Rose and held her.

‘We WILL get through this you know old friend.’ "I’m such a bad person Todd." Rose said trying to hide her tears. ‘I have known you as long time and you have never been a bad person, ever.

Promise me you will think things through clearly when I’m away and we can sort things out when I return?’ "I have to go Betazed for a week for a Science Meeting on Archeology I’m taking a few friends along with me but yes I will think about it. I got something for you be right back.” She smiled and jumped off the bed and moved to the door. Todd waited wondering in worry as to her mental health.

Things were going to get hard for her over the next few months. Rose returned with a bunch of white Roses with a note from the Countess of Betazed attached.

‘ I heard about your mother’s death, I got these for you to lay on her grave when you return to Earth.’ Todd’s eyes started welling up ‘You knew, thank you old friend. My mother always liked me being friends with royalty,’ he chuckled ‘she said it made her feel regal, these are precious.’ Todd stood up and moved to the door.

‘Well old friend I have to go now and ask Price for a leave of absence.’ "I know what is like to lose a parent, I just wish my mother would get off my back about me getting married." Todd suddenly remembered Rose’s birthday ‘Sorry I will miss your party Rosy but we will have dinner when we both get back.’ Rose smiled then got a strange look on her face. "When will you call Dallas about me?" she asked him after reading his thoughts.

‘Before I leave, but don’t worry I will tell her you are fine just let you talk to her to set her mind at rest.’ Rose came close and kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh by the way you are going to be one of the Royal Godparents to my daughter." Todd hugged her ‘I would be proud to be.’ Rose just smiled and left sickbay. Todd felt worried about her and left a message with Commander Dallas. He knew Rose would be fine with his support. Todd left sickbay and made his way to his quarters to pack and hopefully get his leave he had requested…

OFF: Warning this post contains scenes of extreem violence and may be offensive to some audiences.

A green phaser beam sliced out a section of the akira class ship. The federation ships own weapons became useless against the tractor beam. The cube would slowly get to the shield generators and drones would take over the crew.

"Seperate the saucer." The captain ordered as a desperate act. He had all the crew evacuate.

Assembled on the battle bridge the crew watched the saucer set a collision course. It sliced into the cube and explosions ripped the cube apart.

It was unfortunate there was another cube waiting. Tractor beams grabbed the ship and started to rip it apart again. "All hands prepare for intruders."

Down in security everyone scrambled for phaser rifles except one figure. A wall of green scales cracked a huge knuckle and a forked tongue tasted the air.

Seth was assigned to engineering and made it to the deck in time for the green transporters to start. Three borg never saw the inside of the ship as they materialized they died. The gorn slugged skulls with his fists like they where baseballs.

Two other borg materialized farther away and started to assimilate the engineering staff. Both borg where bashed together but too late. The engineer was starting to assimilate.

The gorn crushed the throat of one then turned to see five drones approaching. The first two got claws rakes across thier chest and exposed vital internal organs to the floor. The next one had a force field on.

Seth picked the borg up and bounced him off the other two approaching. All three would live for now but that hurt them.

In the mean time seven more borg materialized. Crew where being assimilated all over the ship. Seth picked up a shielded drone and implanted it in a console. The electric shock deactivated it.

Three drones jumped on the lizard and tried to wrestle Seth to the ground. The Gorn swong its tail and tripped two more attackers. Seht stepped on one and broke its ribcage.

One of the attackers on the gorns back extended its assimilation tubes but they broke off on the scales. Another adapted and tried the same trick.

Seth roared with strange gorn laughter as the nanites invaded his body. The three drones all got dropped on thier heads with a crunch. Several more drones surrounded the gorn and waited for the assimilation.

It never happened. The tiny invading nanites could not adapt to non mammilian lifeforms. Two more borg got deactivated for thier hesitation.

"Self destruct sequence activated." The computer announced. The captain must have ordered the ship not to be taken over. Around engineering there was not a single human left, only borg and the gorn.

Seth jumped and tackled two drone that tried to stop the countdown. Broken bones marked thier fall. The gorn got up easy but they never made it to the console.

"Self destruct deactivated." the computer announced. That probably ment the borg had got to the captain and executive officer.

"Computer." Seth asked in the middle of scratching another borg forcefield. "Internal scan lifesigns."

"1,313 borg and one gorn." The computer piped back grizzley news. There would be no survivors in this battle.

Argivated the gorn grabbed the nearest borg and screamed as he tossed it at the core. The drone smashed the outter casing and plasma started to leak out.

Another drone hit the same spot and coolant leaked as well. Any borg humanoid part the touched the plasma evaporated. Seth fought his way to the door and jammed a borg under the blast shield.

With out the shield the entire ship would be filled with the deadly gas. That was if the ship wasn't also losing coolant. "Collant leak. Plasma leak. Core overload in one minute." the computer announced.

Seth didn't get a chance to go down with the ship as a federation transporter whisked him away.

Body count 20.

Counselor Cytrix had meet Seth before but everytime he walked into the room the sheer violent animal instincts scared the hell out of her. It didn't help to have a mouth full of razor sharp daggers or claws.

The door opened and the coil of green muscles entered. The JAG entered shortly after. "Lets get this over with." He started. "It has been a long few weeks."

As with all inqueries into a ships distruction everylast detail was beated to death more then the gorn did to the borg.

"Mr. Zonhieb, You have pleaded guilty to the willful distruction of your ship and its entire crew." The JAG was human but put on a mask that would make a vulcan proud. "This review agrees that as the soul survivor it was your duty to insure the ship did not fall into enemy hands."

The emotionless face cracked without the lifetime of dicipline so the JAG shuffled some paper on his desk. "It is the recommendation of your counsel and this review that you be obsolved of all charges."

Cytrix let out a little yelp of victory but was cut off by the Judge. "But!," the man looked disappointed. "Once again your violent tendencies are of concern. You will be reduced in rank to that of Lieutenant Junior Grade and reassigned to a new ship. Dismissed."

"At least you didn't get the full courtmartial." Carin cowered thinking the gorn might be ticked off at her. He nodded and calmly walked out of the room.

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

It was surprising for Seth to find out a commanding officer had actually requested him to transfer. Especially one that he already knew.

From his time on the Galaxy the gorn didn't remember Captain Price as a friend. For that matter Seth had no friends on board.

The captain actually smiled as the lizard approached the air lock. There was a crowd gathered around in a welcoming commity. "I think I speak for everyone," The captain started. "In saying welcome back. We all missed you."

Silence filled the room as everyone waited for some sort of reaction from the gorn. "Lt jg Seth Zonhieb reporting for duty sir." Finally Seth spoke. The words put a smile on everyones face.

"We have plenty of room for you," The captain chuckled. "We still have your old rock."

Lt jg Seth Zonhieb, Gorn Security Officer, USS Galaxy

"Goodfellas"

The joyful reunion of the USS Galaxy's very own super couple..Lt.(jg) Raven Darkstar (Security - who has not been informed of his promotion.) and the man, the myth, the way of life himself...legendary Leo 'Streevok' Streely!!! (and a couple of NPC's as well, naturally.)

Time: Just after the Galaxy has docked at Starbase 114 for repair and refitting.
Location: Residential apartments, Saucer section, USS GALAXY

(Previously: Leo, still disguised as a Vulcan, was called to perform a Bajoran circumcision. Poor ol' Leo was a bit confused at what was happening and security was called. Fortunately for Leo, security arrived in the form of his good buddy, Raven Darkstar.)

"YOU!!" Raven yelled staring at Leo Streely.

"Oh it's me!" he said, still staring at the three Bajorn women. He tried not to pay attention to the statuesque naked male also present in the room. "It's me, and that's them and there's about to be some serious ass whipped tonight, OK? You guys messed with the bull and now your gettin' the horn!"

"YOU!!" Raven repeated, still suprised.

"Hey, didn't we cover that already, partner? Let's just commence to the clobbering, all right? You take Naked Ned over there and I'll handle the..."

"YOU!!" Raven said once more before lunging at the stunned little man. They raced around the room much to the confusion of the others. Leo scurried around a couch and stopped to look at the angry Indian holding his position on the other side of the sofa.

"OK, OK, OK!! Let's calm down and talk about this all right? We don't need to be fighting here!" Leo pleaded, gasping for breath. "Did the lone Ranger ever fight with Tonto?"

Raven's eyes grew wide as he growled.

"All right! All right! Bad example!" he yelled as Raven chased him over coffee tables and into the bedroom where he took up a defensive position behind the naked man, ever so careful not to touch his bare ass.

"Now see here..." the confused nude Bajoran said to the irate Raven.

"I've seen more of you than I want to, and if you don't cover that thing and get out of here I'll arrest you for indecent exposure."

"But..But this is my own apartment."

"Then the charge will be repulsing an officer. Move now or you'll piss in a bottle for the remainder of your years."

The man hot stepped it away from where he was acting as a human shield and joined the women in hiding near the dresser leaving nothing but air between Raven and Leo.

"OK, OK, OK, OK. Maybe I should have told you I was on board. Us being partners and all." Leo pleaded as the large Indian got closer.

"MAYBE?!" Raven said grabbing the little man by the ear and having the fake Vulcan apparatus fall off in his fingers.

Leo chuckled. " Its ..ah..part of the gig, OK? I mean AHHRRGGUURRKK!!!"

Raven guided Leo out into the hallway, his fist firmly gripping the back of Leo's collar. He turned to the room's residents.

"Your apartment is now secure. Have a good day." then he began dragging Leo down the hall.

"What..where are we going?" Leo choked out as he was dragged along.

"Off this ship."

"WAITAMINUTE! WAITAMINUTE!!! YOU CAN'T TOSS ME OFF THIS SHIP!!"

Raven stopped for a minute and pointed at Leo. "Count your lucky little stars that I don't take you to the Brig right now for a number of reasons, the least of which being this ridiculous costume your wearing. What are you trying to be here..." he asked, holding up the discarded wig.

"Lemmie give you a hint: 'That would be illogical, Captain.' OK, OK, OK! What's your guess? C'mon, c'mon..what do ya think?" he said excitedly.

"Tell me you weren't a Vulcan!"

"What do ya mean? I'm a paragon of logic! I'm a natural! Savat would practically adopt me!"

"Logic! What are..You know what..I don't know why I'm talking to you. I've already said more words this month than I care to! Move it!" he said dragging Leo once again.

"Wait a minute OK? Lemmie tell you.." Leo protested.

"If you make one more sound before we get off this ship I will disembowel you where you stand.You know me and you know I don't make idle threats."

Reluctantly Leo kept silent while being escorted and the minute they hit the exit ramp and were standing on the decks of Starbase 114, he began again." Now hold on partner! You dont understand, I am..."

"The only thing I understand is that your games give me headaches. Stay off the ship or next time it's the brig."

"Leo, Leo, Leo...you seem to have a problem with all your friends." a gravely voice said.

Leo froze at the sound of it and tried to scurry behind Raven who had turned around to see a short fat man in dark glasses and a black overcoat accompanied by 3 other well dressed men. Raven thought he saw the butts of phasers sticking out fron thier suitcoats.

"M..M..Mr. D..DePasta! I..uh..I mean..its good to see you again..sir."

"Oh yes, Leo. It is good to see you again too." DePasta said with a forced smile. "Its been a long time.I thought maybe you were hiding from us."

"You guys really need sunglasses in space? And you better have permits for those phasers your hiding." Raven said, feeling Leo clutching against his leg.

A medium build square jawed man moved in front of DePasta and removed his glasses looking from Raven to Leo. "Are..Are you talkin to me?"

"No!..Oh no!.. He was ..only.."Leo started.

"Of coarse I was talking to you." Raven said moving a bit closer.

"Was he talkin to me?" the man asked then looked at Raven. " Are you talkin to me?"

"What the hell is wrong with your goon here, DePasta? Perhapse I should have him detained for suspicion of being under the influance." Raven said.

"That's all right Bobby. I'm sure our friend here meant no disrespect." Mr. DePasta said waving the man back to his side. Reluctantly, Bob joined his friends. The big man walked up to the frightened Leo and slapped him lightly on his cheek. "Welcome to the station Leo. I hope your stay is a memorable one."

Leo watched them walk away then turned to Raven. " Look, you gotta help me. Those men, they wanna kill me, OK!"

"Who doesn't Leo." Raven said never removing his eyes off the entourage.

"Really. I need back on the ship. I'm safe there. If you leave me out here, it's over for me. I'll be swimming with the fishes!"

'Your personal problems are not my concern. My job is to keep the ship's crew safe, not to police a space station. I would speak to station security if your concerned about your safety. There's nothing more I can do for you. Have a good day Leo." Raven said, walking back on board the ship.

"BUT I AM A CREW MEMBER!! ASK PRICE!! ASK MAAS!! OK! PARTNER!!" Leo yelled as the Indian turned down a hallway out of earshot.

He wandered down the hall thinking about the annoying Leo. He had been right to suspect that it had been Leo he was battling the Borg drones with. He would have loved to know why he was disguised as a Vulcan. It was as if...

~ He wanted to hide from someone!~ his mind said.

Shaking the thought from his head he continued walking. Leo was up to something. He was always up to something. Just another scam. One goofy scheme after another.

~Ask Price!!~ he remembered Leo saying.

I'm not buying into his lunacy. The captain is a busy man. He doesn't need to be bothered by that little weasel. I would be court marshaled and drummed out if I let every lunitic that wanted to, get close to the Captain.

~Partner!~ his mind echoed ~ Partner!~

"Oh all right, damn it." He said tapping his combadge. "Darkstar to Captain Price..."

{Price here..what is it mate?}

'Captain, this may sound strange, but is Leo Streely a member of this crew?"

{Ahh...so you found him then. Yes he is. Only Dr. Mass and myself know about it. Do keep this one under wraps for a while longer, mate. I'll get into the full story as soon as time permits but yes, he's officially here.}

"Thank you sir. Darkstar out."

~ My job is to keep the ships crew safe!~ he remembered saying.

"And now he's part of the crew." he sighed then turned around and exited the ship. "This better be damn good." he said marching off the ramp and looking around the docking bay.

People of all races and species were crawling throughout the area. Leo could literally be anywhere. He spied one of DePasta's goons who after being seen, disappeared around the bulkhead. Darkstar hurried over there to see the man continue to race down an adjoining hall.

"I hate when they run." he said , following him down the hallway,where he found Leo with a gag on his mouth, being forced into a darkened cargobay by DePasta and his men. His eyes lit up seeing the Indian and he began to struggle more.

"Let him go." Raven said, cracking his neck by rolling his shoulders.

DePasta smiled a greasy smile. "You should have kept your nose out of this, my friend." He motioned with his jeweled pinkie finger and Raven felt a sharp blow to the back of his head.

He began to swim in darkness as he rolled over and saw Bob holding what looked like a wooden ball bat. 'You still talkin to me? Huh? You still talkin to me?" he yelled.

"Vito. Gino. Bring him in here too. Lets make it a party." DePasta said as Bob and the others dragged the semi-conscious Raven into the storeroom.

Next post: Raven and Leo at the mercy of...the Mob? And what is their connection to our lovable little bartender? Will our heroes live to see another day? Stay tuned!

"You Will Be Alright"
By Lt. Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer Lt. (j.g.) Wilhem Quevvenson, Science Officer

Wilhem was in Science Lab 2 when he got Autumn's second message. He quickly read it, and he hoped that he would survive this Borg attack, too. Life was just getting interesting again. Then, the doors opened.

Rose stepped in carrying a phaser, "Damn, it's like a living hell out there. Hey Wilhem my friend what's up?" she said trying not to be scared.

Wilhem was surprised to see her. "What are you doing out of MedBay, Rose? I thought that your recent experiences would cause you to shun contact with a being such as me."

Rose looks at her young friend then smiles, "They told me I was ok for duty, plus I feel ok, so don't worry. But knowing you... you will." she said with a grin.

Wilhem nodded solemnly, "I will worry about you. I saw my mother go through the same thing."

"So lets get to work, I want this damn Borg off the ship before I kill some of then." Rose grins while she walked over to help him with his work, right now her mind was on getting the Borg off the ship and getting home safe.

"Agreed. We need to interrupt their connections with the Collective, first. Then, we can have them transported wherever we want. Most likely onto another Borg cube."

"So any ideas Wilhem?" she asked him while looking at her computer.

Wilhem shook his head, "None. Mayhaps the rest of the Science staff would know what to do. But I sure don't. I am still a novice where it comes to computers."

"Great. I'm going to be a Borg before my 25th birthday on the 1st of September but it won't happen, if I have to kill every damn Borg on this ship I will." Rose vowed to him.

Wilhem shook his head, "We will not be Borg before the First of September. The Security forces are moving quickly to mop them up. Besides, we are more likely to be destroyed by all those Borg cubes out there," he said pointing to the window.

Rose feels bad now, "I sorry for upsetting you my friend please forgive me. But since everything bad has been happening to me I'm very pissed off."

Wilhem smiled warmly, "You did not upset me, Rose. And I can uderstand you being pissed off. But don't worry about me. You have to worry about yourself now. Things will never be the same for you."

"Don't worry I will be the same, I will make sure of it." Rose told him will looking up some things about the Borg.

Wilhem shook his head slowly. She did not realize what things would be like for her. He was even surprised that she was willing to talk to him. His mother had been raped, and she ahd been unwilling from that point on to talk to the male members of her family. For the rest of her life. At least until Wilhem was banished from Grabentod. That was the legacy of rape in his family, at least.

"I've been raped before and take back stronger... and I will do the same with this rape." Rose said looking over the map of the Borg ship on the science computer.

Wilhem's eyes widened, "I am sorry to hear that you have had this experience before. I just hope you are ready for the changes that this might bring upon you." Suddenly, the readings of the Borg on board the Galaxy disappeared. It appeared like they had all been recalled to their home cube, as it were. Wilhem checked several times, then said, "It appears that that threat is over. I guess as soon as we can get to the Alpha Quadrant, we will tone down from Red Alert. I hope we are ready for it."

Rose smiles, "Thank the Betazoid gods! About the change, I will be fine, all people change, I will still be my old self."

Wilhem thought about it silently, "Then I wish you luck with your endeavors. It appears it might be harder on your friends than it will be on you. I hope we can all work through this. In case anything else comes of this."

Now Rose feels a little down, "It still hard for me but I have to hide my feeling I was taught that...I don't want to lose your friendship or anybody else we will get through this together I vow that to you." she said trying to hide her tears from him.

Wilhem spotted the tears, and said, "We will get through this. But you must not be afraid to show your feelings. Things may get worse before they get better."

"Like me getting pregnant, I think I will be after this mission and if I do I want you to be one of the royal godfather if you will be one?" she told him trying to smile, she walks over to him and hugs him.

Wilhem blushes really red. By the gods, he was glad no one was here to see this. They just might not understand. He hugged her back, "I will be, thank you. I would even be willing to keep the baby or babies legitimate, by being its stepfather. If you wanted that."

Rose smiles, "No I'll be raising it myself, but you're very sweet though... I have to go back to sickbay in a week to take a pregnancy test."

Wilhem nodded. "Okay. I will try to help you through this. But I am not a trained counselor, so some of what I say may not make sense. But it will be what I think I can do to ease your pain."

"That's fine with me, I hope other friends will help me out if I'm pregnant." Rose told him will looking over a PADD.

Wilhem smiled, "They will. I can guarantee you that." He looked around, then back to his studies. "I hope you will feel good for your birthday. It is soon, right?"

"September 1st, sir." Rose said. She started getting a little lightheaded but hides it.

Then, the Red Alert klaxons ended. As such, Wilhem was now free to go as it was Delta Shift. "Well. It looks like we're off duty for now. Escort you home?"

"That's very nice of you sir, I need to rest a little before going to Betazed for my science meeting there." Rose told him getting some PADDS together.

Wilhem smiled, "Betazed? Could Autumn and I come with you. It sounds like a pretty place."

"Yes, you can. I have a thousand rooms at my castle but fair warning there going to be reporters there sometimes." Rose told him with a little grin.

Wilhem chuckled, "Reporters. We had a few of those in Grabentod at the time I was living there. Never could seem to find a place they did not want to snoop in."

"Well since I'm the Countess of Betazed we're going to be innundated by about 90 to 100 of them." Rose said with a worried face thinking what they will paint when they find out Rose is pregnant.

Wilhem nodded, "You shouldn't worry. If they find out you are pregnant, they will have to paint the facts that it was not of your own free will."

"I know, plus the people always believed in me so most of them will support me in this," she said while walking out towards the lifts.

Wilhem nodded, then said, "Aren't the turbolifts off-line?"

Rose sighs, "Oh damn! Don't tell me we have to climb to my quarters?"

Wilhem smiled warmly, "Most likely. That is the way you got up here, isn't it?" He led the way to the nearest Jeffries Tubes, and said, "After you."

Rose rolls her eyes and laughs a little then starts climbing up the Jeffries Tubes, "I don't remember I got more on my mind right now."

Wilhem nodded, "Understandable. I'll be there to catch you if you fall."

Rose smiles a little, "That very gentlemenlike of you sir." she said as she keeps climbing.

"I try to be."

Rose was thinking about her ex-boyfriend, she wanted him back after making a very big mistake about Eric, maybe now he won't take her back after what had happened to her.

Wilhem picked up on the stray thoughts, "If he doesn't want you back becasue of a small thing like that, then he isn't worth it."

Rose looks at him then climbs into the other deck where her quarters are, "How can you pick up my thoughts?"

Wilhem smiled, "I have become telepathic since my arrival into this universe. It's as if I have a new window opened to me. The trouble is, I can pick up thought of anyone, especially if they are thought strongly enough. I don't know how to control it."

"Great that must be nice." Rose told him trying to help him in.

Wilhem climbed out of the Jeffries Tube, and sat there on the ground. "I wish I could control it. I don't want to read too deeply, as that could be considered the mental equivalent of what you just went through."

"It ok I forgive you, I'm use to have people mostly Betazoid reading my mind." Rose said with the grin and picks up her heavy bag of PADDS.

Wilhem nodded, "That's good... Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome, be careful on your way back I don't want you hurt." she said

with a little smile then walks off to her room to pack for Betazed.

"See you later," he called after her, then makes the climb back thorough the Jeffries Tubes to his deck and quarters

"A Funeral for All lost to the Borg"
By Commander Thomas
Lieutenant Adrian An'quinsos
Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Lieutenant (jg) Wilhem Quevvenson
Lieutenant Elaithin Jii
Lieutenant Rebecca Von Ernst
Lieutenant James Mitchell
Lieutenant Samthia Wej

Commander Thomas stood on the main bridge of the ship. Life support had been lost on the bridge during the battle with the Borg and made inoperable at the time. Now with the help of a couple engineers, including himself they'd been able to restore the bridge to use. However, the damage to the ship was still extensive and the main bridge wasn't fully operational either.

The forward torpedo launcher was off-line at the moment and without separating the ship, it would be that way for a while longer. However, for this service it wasn't really particularly important about being forward or aft, so they would use the aft torpedo launcher for the service.

Right now control of the ship remained with the Battle Bridge and would be that way for a while longer.

Chris turned to one of the engineers who'd worked on restoring the main bridge to a useable level for now.

"Open a ship wide channel." Chris said. "We need to get this over with so that we can put those poor souls lost to the Borg at rest and try to get on with our own lives and duties."

"Aye sir." the engineer said.

"Attention, Attention on deck. This is Commander Thomas speaking; it is with great sadness that I am making this announcement. During our battle with the Borg, we lost too many good officers to them and their civil war. We've a suffered a loss in this battle, Lt. Commander Surok was among the victims to die in the line of duty. " Chris paused and then continued to read off the list of officers and crewmen killed in the conflict, "Sanders, Duval, Greens...." another pause, "Ocut, Fooey, Lenders, Moore, Reed and Valentine. Fifty-eight officers and crew members lost in the battle.

There will be memorial service for those officers in thirty minutes, viewing maybe seen in the shuttle bays and rear cargo bays. Senior officers the main bridge as been restored to service for the viewing." Commander Thomas said.

****

James heard the announcement from his private corner on Ten Forward, more concentrated on his Earl Grey tea than the announcement itself. He swallowed a mouthful of the steaming hot drink, drowning his sorrows in another caffeine rush.

"Hey, James," One of the crewmen asked, "Are you attending the funeral?"

He slightly ignored the officer and chose to think to himself. The funeral was for people who died defending the ship. He couldn't bear himself to face his peers after all he has done. To him, he was one of the reasons why some of those people died themselves.

"I don't deserve to honor the dead. Piss off." James said calmly, sipping his tea. The officer looked offended, but decided to move away.

~~"Good. The last thing they need is me hovering around them with a scythe in my arms."~~ He bitterly thought.

Picking up a PADD, he started to work on his daily security reports. The announcement went through the entire ship again, which he completely ignored with his work.

***

Adrian and Zerhi sat there in memory and shock in his quarters. 'All those people... dead...' His mind wandered back to the destruction of his own Homeworld, Wolf 359, and then, the Galaxy. He once sparred Moore for fun, and Davison saved his life during a Borg assault on Deck 10. His thoughts trailed off in anger and sorrow as they both broke down and cried hard, holding one another's hand very tightly.

***

Wilhem listened to the names, and knew that he would have to give them the honor of watching the ceremony. So, he headed for the aft shuttle bay to watch. Then he stood at attention and waited for the ceremony to commence.

***

Electra sat in the OPS office filling out the paperwork required by Starbase by the acting chief of the department about recent events. She kept her mind focused on the task at hand. She filled out a form and then the same form again and again and again. The grease of quadruplicate paperwork ran bureaucracies. She was interrupted in her task by Commander Thomas' announcement. She bit her lip and listened with half an ear as she continued to fill out the forms. She refused to cry again. When she was under control, she stood and headed for the main bridge, the correct place for the acting chief to say farewell to the late chief.

***

Lieutenant Elaithin Jii paused in the cleanup he was supervising in Security. Everything was a mess. Then they heard the names of all the brave Security personnel who'd been lost.

Sorry, guys, he thought to himself. Prophets be with you all. The Lieutenant looked around - the Chief was here, so he spoke up to everyone.

"Dismissed, boys. Attend the service - dress whites." He said. There were acknowledgements all around as he and the others left.

***

James Mitchell had seen death innumerable times, but he never got used to it. Never had he seen the Borg is such close proximity, and their swift and sudden theft of life from an individual had etched a place in his mind, so that when he heard the names of those who had been taken in the defense of the ship and all those in board, he remembered with sadness. He had been in combat with some of them, and seen their lives ripped from them. He'd had to kill both Borg and fellow crewmen. It was a terrible loss.

He wiped a tear from his eye and proceeded with his duty of remembrance.

***

Commander Thomas returned to working with the two engineers on restoring the functionality of the main bridge. Chris had also asked Lt. Rebecca Von Ernst to join him on the bridge when she was ready.

She arrived sooner than he had expected. The Turbolift hissed open to admit the elfin girl looking quite formal in her Full Dress Whites. Every snap and button was polished to a brilliant patina, and the usually frazzled red hair was neatly brushed and curled under prettily at the shoulders. A light touch of makeup completed the image of a model officer, and drew quite a few stares from those present on the bridge. Nobody had ever seen Von Ernst with lipstick before.

However, if one looked close, one could see the telltale trembling of her lower lip, and the agonized 1000-yard stare in her brown eyes. Eyes that were still a bit red following a fierce bout of crying in the privacy of her cabin.

But that was in the past. She determined with a fierceness that surprised her that she would at least try to look presentable at Surok's service. At least try to appear like the officer that she continually failed to be.

Stepping stiffly off the lift, the white-clad girl drew herself into a parade grounds 'attention'

"Lt. Junior Grade Rebecca Von Ernst reporting as ordered sir."

Commander Thomas nodded turning around and walked towards to speak privately with her. "Lt. (jg) Von Ernst, assume your station for the duration of this ceremony."

Rebecca's red eyes widened slightly, she had been expecting to be able to attend the ceremony personally. hence the Dress Whites, and everything.

"S.sir?"

"You heard me, take your station." Commander Thomas said, then added orders about what was to happen.

"When the order to fire is given, launch a single torpedo from the aft launcher, as it's the only one active right now. Set the torpedo to detonate a safe distance from the ship. It's been modified to give off a little light show." Chris said. "You'll also need to make sure view screens are switched to aft view."

Understanding now, Rebecca had to blink to prevent the tears from forming again and ruining her makeup. ~~~Noodles, cant you do anything without crying!" she chastised herself.

"A.aye sir." She said instead, her expression unreadable. "Honorary Salute on your mark."

Commander Thomas felt that she deserved this chance to serve at her post now that the ship wasn't under fire.

*** 28 minutes later ***

Commander Thomas watched as more of the senior officers started showing up on the bridge. It was just over two minutes away from the service for those officers who perished in the battles against the Borg ships.

Electra exited the turbolift with her head held high. She had stopped by her quarters and changed into her dress uniform. She felt it an appropriate gesture of respect to her fallen comrade. She walked forward to the OPS station and relieved Lieutenant Freeman. He nodded once and stood at the rear station, eyes forward. She sat and waited for the ceremony to start, eyes on the control panel in front of her, ready to stand at attention, wishing she was anywhere else, but unable to do less than her duty required.

Rebecca watched in silence as the long-legged Electra entered, and felt a twinge on envy in her heart. The sight of the tall woman reminded her of the painful words spoken by James Corgan, and she couldn't decide how to react to Lexa. Were they still friends? Or deadly enemies?

***

James Mitchell arrived at the shuttle bay in his tight, white crisp formals. The bay was full with mourners, families grieving, crying and wailing. The tensions hung thick and heavy in the air, even with the ventilation at a moderately cool cycle. Several hundred crewmen and their families were there. Everyone knew at least one of the dead on a personal level, some had lost a father, mother, or a child. Entire lives whisked away in a moment, to leave their families and friends shattered. He received an angry glare from one woman, dressed in black, her young children clinging to her, faces streaked with tears.

She rushed towards him, her own face contorted in rage, her children shrieking as they ran behind her to keep up.

"Killer! You destroyed my family! You took my husband away!!!" She raked her claws at him; he didn't stop her as she tore at his face, cutting into his skin deeply. He eyes rained blood as well as tears, until a security officer came to pull her away. He crumpled against a wall, drained and bleeding. The enormous view screen lit up then, to begin the funeral.

=^=

Wej stood in the back row. She hardly knew Commander Surok but she had respected him. More than that, the entire crew owed their safety to him. Samthia shifted uncomfortably in her starched dress uniform. A simple black beaded headband adorned her bald head. Staring into affinity, she steeled herself against the sounds of the occasional sob, not wanting to succumb to grief. Not here, not in a crowd. Unlike Mr. Surok and most Vulcans, a Deltan's emotions were close to the surface, like an underground spring, always looking for a way to bubble forth. It would not be fitting to cry at a Vulcan's funeral. A commotion near the front of the room caused her to look up. Lt. James Mitchell was being assaulted by a woman accompanied by her children. A security officer came and diffused the situation and the room darkened. Samthia slipped out of her crew and tiptoed silently to where Mitchell slumped.

He felt the cool fingers of a decidedly female hand on his forehead. He closed his eyes. Pain ebbed. Anguish subsided. When he opened his eyes a few moments later, his eyes were greeted by a sea of white uniforms. Whoever had provided the relief, had already slipped into that sea.

=^=

*****

Adrian, Zerhi, and Daenara entered the cargo bay, just before the ceremony commenced. Adrian was in his dress uniform, his wife and mother both in frocks of deep blue, embodied with silver thread, the language of their people. Their hair, free flowing, fell down their backs like a gentle breeze.

Adrian looked over at his mother with a semi-curious face. Her demeanor was almost Vulcan-like, yet her face was filled with a solemn expression. She looked at him and whispered. [Displays of emotion are atypical at Vulcan ceremonies however, this ceremony is also for all those lost on your ship to those murderous butchers. May they find peace in the next life.]

He nodded in understanding, then turned his attention to the view screen.

*****

Commander Thomas stood on the main bridge eye the time counter that he'd asked to be placed on the main viewer so that they could watch the current time allowing everyone to know exactly when it was time. The only person they were now waiting for to arrive on the bridge was captain Price who for the moment seemed to be absent.

Chris watched as the time narrowed to thirty seconds before the appointed time to the service. He wondered if the captain was going to make an appearance, through he could also understand why the captain might chose to stay away from the service as well. Since those being honored were his officers who'd been lost to various decisions during the situation.

Captain Price arrived on the bridge in his dress uniform.

Commander Thomas turned around to see who it was and noted the captain's arrival.

Price just nodded to him to proceed.

With the nod from the captain, Christopher proceed with the service. He'd only given a service like this to many times during the Dominion War and while his direct involvement had been limited he'd still be involved. Chris turned to Lt. Von Ernst to give her the signal to open up a ship wide channel.

"May I have your attention please." Commander Thomas said. "We have severed together on the Galaxy for varied amounts of time, some of you are new to the ship and other's have been around a long time. We never get used to saying goodbye to our fellow officers, crew members, family and friends who die in the line of duty, nor should we. I want to take a few moments to reflect back on those friends and fellow officers who perished in the action against the Borg." Commander Thomas paused for a moment as the list of names scrolled across the viewscreen throughout the ship. "It is with great honor and respect that I say these words as comfort and memory for the living. No matter how long you might've severed with one of these officers it doesn't diminish your feelings of loss. They died before their time, but the died in the line of duty, doing what they love most exploring the galaxy and protecting our way of life. Their deaths were not in vain, the Federation has secured a truce with the Borg for a short time. They will be missed, but not forgotten!" Chris said.

A moment of silence followed.

"Fire." Commander Thomas gave the final order.

Lt. (jg) Von Ernst tapped one key and the ship fired a single torpedo from the aft launcher.

The single torpedo sped away from the aft launcher on the galaxy. Then when it was safely away from the ship it exploded into a brilliant display of colors. Marking the end of the service, but the end of the lives affected by this event.

"Dismissed." Price said.

‘We Are Gathered Here Today…’

Lieutenant Jg Todd Sansky
Medical Doctor
USS Galaxy

Todd entered his quarters and started picking up his personal items that had taken a tumble during the attack. He knelt down next to a shattered USS Voyager and placed it in the replicator for recycle. When finished he sat at his desk. ‘Computer display messages.’

=/\= Message from Captain Price =/\=

‘Display.’

To: Dr Sansky
From: Captain Price
Subject: Leave of absence

Permission granted for you to travel to earth for the funeral of your mother. You are also authorized the use of a shuttlecraft. All the best mate.

**End of message **

Todd smiled and made his way to the bedroom. And took out his luggage and began packing. Todd’s mind wandered to the face of the young man he met in the shuttlebay and wondered if he would ever see him again. His attention changed again as he noticed the view change from his window. The Galaxy had entered the starbase and the ships docked looked so beautiful. A sight he had missed since he boarded the Galaxy. Todd picked up his bag and the stasis container holding the white roses Rose had given him, he wanted them in mint condition for his mother’s grave.

He walked the corridors passing by the engineers fixing the Galaxy to her former beauty. Entering the turbolift he called for deck 4 shuttlebay. The lift whirled and Todd could feel a pushing weight down on him, he thought to himself that the lifts stabilizers must be out of alignment. The doors opened and he walked onto the deck and through the large cargo doors of the bay. There she stood in front of him, the USS Mayflower. He boarded swiftly and begun pre launch sequence. The hatch closed and the computer started the impulse engines.

=/\= Sansky to OPS, I await clearance to launch=/\=

=/\= This is OPS, clearance granted. You’re free to take her out. Bon Voyage and have a safe trip =/\=

=/\= Many thanks, Sansky out =/\= Todd engaged the impulse engines and the Mayflower glided out of the shuttlebay doors and slid between the Galaxy and the other ships docked. He saw some of her damage, most of it extensive. The ships name itself was marred with a blast mark. Todd looked away in fear as he recalled the battle with the Borg and headed for the open doors of the starbase. After clearing the outer marker he inputted the heading for Earth. ‘Computer bring the warp engines online. Warp 2. Engage!’ The shuttle entered warp and began the journey to Earth.

Todd spent hours on the shuttle listening to music and reading. One thing he did find in the current affairs transmission was an article on Rose MacAllen, it was celebrating the birthday of the Countess picturing her in a beautiful red dress. He was proud to be a friend of hers, she had been through a lot and he hoped she would be ok until his return to Galaxy. He continued through the other articles during his trip.

**One week later**

Todd rose from his makeshift bed at the aft of the shuttle. The past week had been one long bore, he despised long trips in slow craft. The Mayflower was entering the Terran System and the computer had taken the ship out of warp and as Todd took the helm the ship was gracefully flying past the orbital shipyards at Utopia Planitia where in front of his tiny craft loomed a massive Sovereign class ship badly damaged but still a ship of beauty.

Somewhat in awe at the sheer size of the craft Todd didn’t notice the flashing indicator alerting him to a hail. =/\= USS Concordia to Shuttlecraft Mayflower, we have a VIP passenger who has requested transport to your shuttle for passage to Earth. She says she is an old friend of the family =/\=

=/\= This is the Mayflower, identify your ‘passenger’ =/\=

=/\= Come to a full stop and await her arrival lieutenant, that’s an order =/\=

Todd frowned and obeyed his orders. He brought the ship to a full stop off the bow of the Concordia. He stood facing the aft compartment as the transporter effect filled the cabin with light. Todd couldn’t believe his eyes and his jaw dropped as she stepped forward to him.

‘ Dr Katherine Pulaski, permission to come aboard?’ ‘Oh my god, Aunty Katherine permission granted, what the hell brings you here.’ Todd hugged his Aunt whom he had not seen since the day he left for the academy.

‘I’m here for the service, I was so sorry to here about her death Todd, she was a vital woman, a great Doctor and one hell of a sister in law, I take it Gordon will be on Earth for the funeral.’ ‘He’s performing the ceremony.’

‘Well he always was a better public speaker than he was a husband.’ Pulaski chuckled as sat at the co pilot’s station. Todd followed and began getting the ship moving as the Concordia moved off.

‘ Lets get moving Todd I can’t wait to get to the house and taste your fathers cooking.’ With that Todd set course for Earth and the shuttle burst towards the blue marble where his entire family gathered to say goodbye to his mother. Patricia Sansky…

To Be Continued……………..

"Without Pause"
by Ens. Arel Smith

The dream, from a clinical point of view, was interesting. A part of Arel watched in cold detachment as parts of her past and present intertwined,forming a strange new narrative for her to explore. The rest of her was not nearly so unaffected. In the dream she ran in terror.

The gauntlet dream.

She was running on the Galaxy, only the Galaxy had been transformed into a strange mix of both her home on Qo'Nos and the small town by the beach where her uncle and Aunt had lived on Earth.

And then parts of the Galaxy would emerge again, usually still battered and beaten from the fight with the Borg.

Arel did not know what she was running from, only that she was being pursued. It was either that or there was someplace that she had to be and she had to be there first. But she could never get there, no matter how fast she ran. It was always distant and elusive, like any dream.She could hear her pursuer behind her but she never looked back, afraid of what she might see.

It was hard to run. She tripped over debris from the ship and then rocks from the Klingon forest were in her way. Then her feet were sinking in the sand and then a dead body on Galaxy blocked her path and then and then and then...

The corridor of trees and sky and metal began to twist and turn and Arel shuddered with the thought that she might become lost in it all.

She knew it was only a dream but still...Things were begining to jump out at her as well. First, a tree branch and then the mechanical arm of a Borg and then she had seen the dead security officer who had tried to help her on the Borg cube and then and then and then and then...

B'rec, her friend who had been blown to bits, was there, in pieces, holding out his hand to her. Her father and uncle likewise reaching for her. More and more dead were coming, in fact, their bodies forming a barricade that blocked her way. And she needed to keep moving.

Arel barreled through them, her skin crawling as it came into contact with cold,rough,or otherwise dead flesh. They made feeble attempt to grab her but the attempts were enough to make Arel want to scream. She cringed at every grasp, every caress and every brush against their skin.

Once free, she paused for a moment to look back to her family but they were gone and only the chill of it all had remained.She hadn't even thought till then that she might want to get to say goodbye.

But she couldn't think about that now. She had to keep moving.

Sounds echoed off of the ship's walls, the sounds colliding together to form a steady wailing noise. But she could hear the individual sounds in the dream, the taunts of the children when she was younger, the laughter of her father,her mother singing, the single scream she had cried for B'rec when she had heard of his death... Something in her chest ached and she looked down to see that her ribs had broken again, some poking ever so gingerly against her skin. She paused again and ran her tongue over her lip and winced. The skin was split and sore as if it it had never been healed by the technology of Galaxy.

And then she was off again, fighting her way through the Borg, running to catch the escaped kite on the beach, fighting the Klingon who had insulted her honor at fourteen, running to catch her father's arm to tell him not to go again,fighting and running and racing and running...

And that was the horror, forever moving through a dream without pause, at least not for long, forever heading for some unknown destination giving no thoughts towards exhaustion or fear or the need to breathe. Forever moving...

Arel woke crying.

"Relief"
by Lt. Ragnald Gustavson, chief helmsman

It took Gustavson and Maas about five minutes to reach sickbay, another ten minutes to fix the Chief helmsman`s broken ribs and of course additional five minutes for Lt. Gustavson to reappear on the bridge.

Sometimes twenty minutes can be almost eternity. When he approached the battle bridge door Ragnald was able to hear voices inside. Voices of crew mates he assumed dead.

"Hold your fire 'mate ... It's just your friendly neighborhood Captain."

*Mate?* Ragnald thought. *Sounds like the General, doesn't it?*

Ragnald rearranged his uniform and that funny part of marines combat chest armor Maas ordered him to wear until his ribs would have totally recovered. He stepped forward to get into the door openers sensor range.

The door swished open and gave view to the battle bridge. Much smaller than the Galaxy`s main bridge, the battle bridge seemed to be rather crowded. The crew mates he left after the senior officers meeting had taken their posts.

Ensign Grant-Wellington was still manning the conn and the members of the "Sly"-away team were standing around, doing small-talk with Commander Thomas and a Borg drone.

Isn't it funny? The Galaxy had battled the Borg for several hours and the first drone alive Ragnald ever met was having small talk with his commanding officers. The drone was far from looking as hostile as the teachers at Star Fleet Academy tried to teach him.

Nobody but the drone seemed to have taken any notice of the chief helmsman still standing near the open door. Ragnald stepped aside to let the door close. There he stood and watched the monitor displaying hundreds or even thousands of Borg cubes. The scenery felt incredible calm as if the war against the Borg was finally over.

Soon after, the picture of a Borg queen appeared on the screen to deliver the explanation about what happened.

[... "You may take your ship through the conduit Captain Robert Edward Lee Price. It will return you to the Alpha Quadrant and Federation space. Until we meet again Captain."]

"Miss Wellington, lay in a course to enter the conduit. Lay in a course to take us home." The General ordered.

Ragnald watched Ensign Grant-Wellington`s fingers dance upon the helm console mentally following every of the steps she made. This was better than a simulation - this was reality.

You didn't have to be Betazoid to feel that there was a certain kind of relief filling the bridge or even the whole Galaxy. It was true, the Galaxy and her crew once again survived.

At least most of them ...

"Smoke rings"
Lt. Junior Grade Savanna Worthington-Security Lt. Elaine O'Hare-NPC Security

******Savanna's Quarters********

"My home." She stated in a whisper as she entered her quarters. Everything in it's place.....including Napoleon who rested peacefully on the sofa. All of her things.......not theirs. Dragging herself to the cabinet near the sink, she opened it slowly. They even took her dishes! Her favorite mugs......and shot glasses. Shaking her head, she had to smile. If it was one thing Morris did well, it was drink. Stephie was the only female Savanna knew that could drink any male under the table, including a Klingon.

The time they spent together was short, but it always seemed like they were together. At work, after work, in their quarters. Glancing around her quarters, it didn't feel like her home anymore. Half of what she held dear was gone. And yes, her partner could be a pain in the rear end at times, but Savanna did love her dearly. She was the closest thing next to Ethan that Savanna could call her truest friend. There was a sense of longing and feeling of being lost that Savanna had never experienced before. Yes, she had experienced death, but only after the fact that the person had been dead.

This was a new feeling for her. On top of everything, she had to shoot her partner at close range. Granted, Savanna had to keep reminding herself that Morris had been assimilated into a Borg, but it still hurt her to have to do it. If it wasn't for Ethan, it was most certain that she would be Borg as well.

Closing the cabinet gingerly, Savanna went and changed into an emerald silk gown. It was an engagement gift from a Betazoid male that she was betrothed to without her knowledge before she went against her mother's wishes and was accepted at Starfleet. However, those memories were for a different time and place. It was comfortable and at this juncture, comfort was what she needed most.

Settling on the sofa, she let a sigh of pent up emotion peel forth from her. Just then, her chime rang out.

"Come." She stated in a soft, overly tired voice.

Upon hearing the permission to enter, O'Hare stepped forward. Bottle of chilled wine in her hand with two tall stemmed glasses, she smiled apologetically as she entered.

"Lt. What brings you by?"

"It's Elaine Savanna. I've just dropped by to bring you a peace offering."

"Peace offering?" Moving her shoulders slightly, the pain reminded her. "Oh....you mean for firing on a fellow officer."

"You could say that. Savanna, it was either that or watch the Borg shoot nanoprobes up your ass. I was too far away to careen into you and you needed it truthfully."

Waving her hand in the air nonchalantly, Worthingon shook head in agreement. "I know." She sighed. "I can't believe I flubbed up in such a major way."

Sitting down beside her on the couch, Elaine popped the cork on the wine bottle, and poured Savanna a glass. Handing it to her she spoke. "Yeah, you flubbed up. However, you didn't do so bad for your first official battle on the galaxy. I mean....god....against the Borg of all races. You are getting into action way faster then I did when I was first on board."

Turning her body to face O'Hare, she questioned. "How did you handle the first time you had to fire your phaser at someone? Do you remember what it was? How did you feel?"

Pouring herself a glass, O'Hare thought for a moment. "Well..........it was on an away team mission for the ship. I don't remember now, it was years ago and believe it or not, the memories fade after you've done it for so many times. What I do remember was the smell of the battle. It's different then anything. It's like death is visiting."

Savanna nodded her head in agreement. Taking a sip from the glass, she nearly choked on the stuff. "Uh....this isn't wine......is it?"

Smiling wildly, Elaine laughed. "Nope, it's something that a good doctor on the ship once......."

Savanna burped and blew a smoke ring out of her mouth. "Wow."

"Introduced me to when I needed a very stiff drink. Impressive, isn't it?"

Worthington wiped away a tear from her face. "You could say that." Instantaneously, Savanna felt herself relaxing. Rolling her eyes, she slumped down further in the seat. "That....." She stated pointing to the bottle, "Is amazing." Covering her mouth, she burped again, this time a giggle accompanied the smoke that rose from her mouth.

O'Hare chuckled once more. "Look, seriously now for a moment. I know what you are going through. There are times where I wish that I could erase some of my time on this ship. I've made some good decisions, I've made some REALLY bad ones also. It's called life."

"Yeah, but I just shot my partner not even two hours ago."

"Honey, she was a Borg, she was no longer your partner. You know that. It won't take away the sting, her being a Borg. You associated her with being a functioning human being, not part of the enemy collective. Subconsciously, you still recognized her as your partner, and not the enemy. Hence, your brain was telling you one thing while your vision was sending a different signal. The "wires" so to speak, got crossed, resulting in some major confusion. It's a common side effect with battles with the Borg. I swear, they assimilate more Starfleet officers that way."

Arching her eyebrows, Savanna spoke. "You sound like a counselor."

O'Hare smiled softly. "When I was first posted on the Galaxy, I was. I wasn't happy after almost being raped by a fellow crew member experiencing Pon Far, so I switched to security after that."

Savanna kept rapt attention.

"I figured, if I couldn't counsel them, I'd beat em up." She stated with a laugh. "Just kidding......"

"Of course." Savanna responded flatly.

"Drink up hon." O'Hare stated with a wink. "So, what's this I hear about you and Suder?"

Blowing a smoke ring from her mouth expertativly, she spoke. "I don't know. I like him....alot."

Smirking, O'Hare responded. "Did you tell him yet?"

"Psssst.....no, of course not! With everything that's been going on, I haven't been able to."

"Tell him when he least expects, telepathically." Elaine giggled.

"Seriously?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know, seems rather cheesy."

"Or........"

"Or what?"

"Whisper something seductive to him and watch him rise to the occasion." O'Hare laughed out loud.

"I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that this ship has a shortage of horny males. The women on this ship obviously don't get enough." Savanna stated.

"I wouldn't doubt it Worthington, I really wouldn't."

NRPG: Takes place after the Galaxy has been in starbase for a few weeks getting repaired.

"Lying to the Family"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

Electra sat in her quarters and stared at the screen in front of her. She had a duty to do and she needed to get it over with. "Computer, record subspace message to Mister and Mrs. Benjamin Reece, Boston, Massachusetts, Earth."

[ Recording. ]

Lexa shot a weak smile at the Starfleet logo on the screen and squared her shoulders. "Hello, Grandmother. Hello, Grandfather. I am sorry that I have not communicated with you lately. However, the Galaxy was ... in a communications blackout, essentially. I'm sorry that I can't tell you more but it is classified. I am doing well. I was promoted a while ago to Lieutenant junior grade. My supervisor appointed me as his assistant chief, as well." Lexa took a breath and knew better than to mention her stint as acting chief after Surok's death. "How are you both doing? How is the fall semester going? I hope everything is well. I am sorry that I can't come home while the Galaxy is in hiatus but my leave request was denied," Lexa lied. "Please let me know how everyone at home is. I miss Earth but I am happy. I look forward to hearing from you."

“End message and begin new one, to Lt. Amanda Coleman, Tactical Officer, USS Ransom.”

"Hi, Gram. Hi, Pop Pop. I miss you." Lexa smiled genuinely. "I hope you haven't been worried by any rumors going around. The reports of the Galaxy's assimilation were greatly exaggerated. We did lose crew, but I was never in any danger," Lexa smiled as she fibbed. "I know I told you about my promotion a few months ago but I don't think you know that I was made assistant chief. I even had a stint as chief after my boss was killed on an away mission. I hope the Ransom is well and I look forward to hearing from you. I wish I could get leave but I just can't right now. Maybe next time we'll be near one another. I love you and miss you both."

"End message, save copies of both to my personal file and send them." Lexa felt bad about lying about leave but she just didn't feel up to seeing either of her grandparent sets. The truth was she hadn't even tried to get leave. She had volunteered for extra duty, something that was getting to be a normal occurrence over the weeks since the Borg had allowed the ship to return home.

[ Completed. Incoming message. ]

"On screen."

A picture of a cheerful woman of about 65 wearing a red uniform and full lieutenant pips appeared. She smiled at the screen as she spoke. "Lexa, darling, you'll never guess. The Ransom is putting into Starbase 117 for repairs and to pick up supplies and new crew. We'll be in port about three days and I've already gotten leave approval for both Pop Pop and myself. We can come to the Galaxy or you can try to get leave to come here. If we come to you, you can give us a tour. We are so excited. We should be there in a couple of days. So, see you soon, love." The smiling woman disappeared, replaced by the stark Starfleet logo, leaving a shocked and dismayed junior grade lieutenant staring at it.

"Shadows of Insecurity"
by James Mitchell

***Chief Science Officer Peterson's Office***

James surveyed the office he once held. The refit hadn't changed it much, only made it bigger and more spacious to include a new array of equipment and sleeping quarters. The labs attached to it could now be seen through a sheet of transparasteel, and they were silent. Not even the comforting sounds of the machines could be heard. It was as if the entire ship were in mourning for all those it lost. The eerie silence ironically echoed the screams of terror that resonated in James' mind. There was nothing to distract him, nothing except the darkness brought on by the ship cutting back on systems to conserve power. The black night made it fearful that there may be Borg hiding in the shadows, waiting to make you theirs.

He tore his gaze from the ominous dread that gripped him as he stared into the void, and approached the Chief Science Officer's desk that had once been his, and was to be again. His personal fear welled up inside him like a slow geyser, churning in his gut. He'd been assigned to this ship as a temporary observer, but now remained the highest ranking officer on board, as Lieutenant MacAllen was on medical leave.

Peterson's personal effects were arranged in a neat, orderly fashion along one corner of the desk. James picked up a photo of a woman as he rounded the desk and sat down in the contoured chair, feeling its cold rigidity as it flexed underneath him. Taking one last glance at the smiling woman, he slid back his chair and with a grimace, opened the drawer next to him to store the 'Commander's effects.

"Don't you think you should ask me where to send them before putting those things away, Lieutenant Mitchell?" James jumped at the sound of the voice, banging his head on the table edge on the way up. Cringing in pain, he cupped his hand over the already growing goose-egg and blinked back the pain as he struggled to see the owner of the voice through the red haze over his eyes. His vision gradually cleared to reveal the concerned visage of the Chief Science Officer peering over him, medikit in hand as he examined him.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" The pain faded away as Peterson ran a dermal regenerator over his scalp and leaned back. He picked the photo of the woman up off the floor as placed it back into its place on the table. He caressed the edge of it as he replied to James query.

"I thought we were a few times, but the Captain worked his charm once again and got us away, all except Surok. He gave his life so that the rest of us could go on..." Kent's voice drifted off, reliving those last moments in his memory. He turned the face the science officer, releasing the photo.

"James, I've put in a request to have you re-assigned here on a permanent basis, and Starfleet has approved it." He pulled up a portable stool as he waved James to sit down in the Chief's chair.

"Why would you need me to stay? The Galaxy is done. We're headed back to Starfleet 114 for repairs. I'm only a Borg specialist, not an enlisted officer anymore." He was confused and frightened at the same time. He was expecting... no, *wanting* to go home to Earth, and Marisa.

"James..." Peterson leaned in closer, as if to share some kind of secret. "You and I here are the only ones who understand the abominations of the Borg, and I need you here. Captain Price made a deal with the devil, so to speak. It isn't my place or anyone else's to question his actions, what's done is done, but your presence on this ship is important and required. More than ever before." "What happened over there, 'Commander? I don't understand." James eyed the Chief warily. He didn't like the idea of being placed in a position where others depended on him for so much. He had already been there, and the results were disastrous. Now he was being asked to do so again, before he felt he was ready.

"James, the Captain made some concessions to the Borg that he felt were beneficial to the Federation, and as a show of 'faith'," Peterson sneered at this, "they decided to send a delegate of their own. To make sure we kept our end of the bargain." "We have a Borg delegate? What the hell is that?" James was flabbergasted at the very idea. "How are we to know if it is only here to prepare us for assimilation at some later time? How long is it going to be here for?

"Security will be guarding it at all times. Right now, its alcove location is being scouted out by Engineering and Security, but in between, it needs a liaison. We've been assigned to that duty." Kent spun his console around, and keyed up James records.

"I know you are leery at having an authoritative position, but I've requested you to be named Assistant Chief to the department and myself." He cut James off before he could protest. "You have former departmental experience at running the show, and I need to rely on that. I read your report on what happened while we were on the cube, and you made the right command decisions. I need to know I can trust my assistant to do that if I am unable to lead the department. Commander Thomas has already approved it." He touched a few keys, and James transcript updated itself to reflect the transfer.

"James, your first order is to go get some rest. You have an appointment with our newest crewmember tomorrow to show him around. Check in with 'Commanders Jii and Suder after your physical checkup. You three need to find a home for our Borg." "Yes, sir." Doing a lttle delegation duty wasn't such a bad thing, and it would make him feel a whole heck of a lot more comfortable settling the Borg in. He got up to leave, but turned one last time.

"It's good to have you back, sir."

"It's good to be back. Now go get some sleep. You're going to need it." "Aye, sir." He slipped out, and the doors whooshed shut behind him.

"Shadows of Insecurity"
by James Mitchell
Assistant Chief Science Officer
USS Galaxy

"Waking up together"
By
Shinta and Eric

Takes place some days before Bruce returns

Eric awoke with Shinta still on him and he smiled. He knew she had at least slept well. He hoped she had not had troubled dreams. He wondered if he should just leave or wake her. he decided to do the latter and he gently tried to wake her up. "Shinta, wake up,"he said softly.

Shinta came awake with a shock, noticing that she was very close to Eric. She was startled, he was a good friend now. But when she started treating him, it had been because he had been very forward with too many women. And suddenly she felt uncomfortable, and moved away from him. "What happened?" She asked.

He held up his hands and said,"You only fell asleep after crying. I didn't want to wake you, so I slung my head bac kand slept too. I'm sorry if that was wrong of me, I just didn't want to interrupt some rest you seemed to need." He would leave in a second if she told him to, but he had done noithing wrong to his knowledge.

"No, I am sorry." She was fully awake now. "I should not judge you, I of all people should know how much you have changed the last couple of months." She smiled. "I apologize, Eric, you have been a great friend."

"It's alright,"He said lowering his hands. He now smiled and asked,"How did you sleep?" He was hoping it was well.

"a bit stiff, but I slept well. You did well." She said. "But did you manage to sleep at all?"

He laughed and said,"I slept enough. I was just happy you were sleeping, it seemed like you needed it my friend. Anything else I can do for you, maybe get you some breakfast from the replicator?" He had a slight smirk, but would do soemthing if she needed it done.

"No, go to work. You have done enough for me already." She hugged him. "Thank you again."

He hugged her back and said,"Anytime my friend. You just give me a call, and maybe we can do something. If you need another shoulder I'll be ready to be it after my shift." He smiled encouragingly.

"I will, if I need you. But the doctor is staying with me tonight, so should be alright for awhile." She said and then watched him leave.

"Where angels fear to tread"
By Lieutenants Samthia Wej and Faustine Margolis

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?" Fox said, stamping her foot.

Samthia handed Lt. Margolis a PADD. "Actually, WE have a death wish."

"We? Excuse me, but I never remember saying such a thing, so start talking."

"You're coming with me." Samthia clarified.

"And where, pray tell, are 'we' going?"

"Well, to find Michael. Where else?"

Fox was momentarily caught off guard. "Michael," she cautiously repeated. "Is this some cruel joke?"

"This calls for an alcoholic beverage." Samthia said walking over to the replicator. "Two glasses of champagne."

Handing one to Fox, she clinked her glass and took a sip. "No, my dear Fox. This is no joke. Michael is alive. I know it. I know he's in the Nexus."

"But I thought it was almost impossible to get in, let alone out, of the Nexus. What if you're wrong and he's...he's..." Fox couldn't bring herself to say the word.

"Dead?" Samthia finished for her. "Michael is impulsive, not stupid. "And he'd be standing here right now if the transporter experiment wasn't a one way trip."

"What if its a one way trip for us?!" Fox demanded.

Samthia ignored the question. "Come on, Commander Peterson is waiting for us in shuttle bay 1."

"And yes, I know the man was, I mean is, a damn genius," Fox continued. "I spent far more time with him than you ever did. But why he ever went on this fool's errand I may never understand."

"A fool's errand?" Samthia asked incredulously. "Was Marco Polo a fool? or Christopher Columbus? or Jonathan Archer?

Fox slumped down on to a chair and started to cry. "But what if we don't find him? Or what if he is dead? I already lost him once..."

"Please don't do that..."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm human," she quipped back sarcastically. "I'm sorry if I cannot help it that I'm sad."

"Grab your gear, Lieutenant. There's no time to wallow."

Fox reluctantly stood up. "Why are you doing this Sam?"

"For humanity."

"Oh, what a concise answer that is. What do you want to do? Find a way in and out so that psychos like Dr. Soren can go back to their fantasy land?" Fox shook her head. "I swear, I don't know why Michael would have ever gotten into this research let alone be a test subject. It's not like him."

Just then Lt. Wej's communicator bleeped. It was Commander Peterson. [Lt. Wej, please report to shuttle bay 1.]

Samthia tapped her combadge and acknowledged. "We're on our way, Sir." Putting the empty glass down on the anti-grav coffee, she looked up at Fox. "Well, are you coming?"

Fox sulked for a minute. Of all the people and of all the missions...this could get no more cruel. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she finally replied as she grabbed her duty jacket. "Why, I don't know, but I'm coming."

Samthia Wej
Stellar Cartographer
USS Galaxy

Faustine Margolis
Operations Officer
USS Galaxy

"Katra, Part I"
By Lieutenant Commander Savat

OOC: Approximately one week after the Galaxy docked at Starbase 114.

****Fire Plains of Raal, Vulcan****

Savat worked his way up the side of Mt. T'Raan, his every footstep carefully calculated. The heat was intense, even for a Vulcan, the air moving in and out of his lungs like a bellows. The specially treated robes that he wore protected him from minor burns, but it would do little to save him if he chose the wrong path and found himself standing on fresh crust, too thin to support his weight.

He was on the third day of his journey, which had started at a base camp in the shadow of the three peaks that dominated the skyline of Raal. Logic would have dictated that he use a transporter to reach his destination, but his mission was not about logic, it was about tradition, and even in the strictly regimented minds of the Vulcans, tradition still held sway in many things.

For many, it would have been a lonely journey, but Savat was hardly alone. Surok was his constant companion, or more precisely the afterimages of Surok's synaptic patterns, currently in residence within Savat's hippocampus. And while his fallen comrade could not speak, Surok's memories wove many a fascinating tale to keep Savat mentally occupied.

Surok had lead a rich life for one so young. In his fifty five years, he had explored many fields and endeavors, both on Vulcan and in Starfleet. He was constantly seeking after knowledge. Savat, at nearly twice his age, had been through his share of changes as well, from professor to hermit to scientist to warrior. But he had been content to stick with each new role until some cataclysm or crisis had brought about change. The death of his wife, T'Pal during the Tomed incident had sent him into seclusion for more than a decade. His near death at the battle of Maxia, had convinced to him change his Starfleet vocation. But he had never explored new options simply for the sake of something new.

And perhaps, Savat thought, it was time that he did.

It was close to dusk by the time Savat finally reached the cave. The tubular entrance of thick volcanic glass glinted in the fading sunlight.

Created by an eruption centuries earlier, the cave would someday be reclaimed by the molten magma flows. But for now, it was home to the individual that Savat sought, a unique artisan and spiritual figure whose continued existence was known only to a few.

Savat made his way fifty meters into the cave. The temperature dropped down to a comfortable 150 degrees allowing him to doff his hood. There were few signs of habitation, though it was obvious to Savat that the interior of the cave had been carefully regulated and reinforced.

"You are not welcome here." A voice echoed though the caverns, making its source difficult to pinpoint.

"I come seeking a vre-katra." Savat replied hearing his own voice reverberate in response.

"Go to Gol. You can find many inexpensive serviceable ones there." The voice recommended.

"That would be acceptable, if I merely desired to go through the motions of the ritual for tradition's sake." Savat answered. "However, I am seeking a vre-katra that will act as a vessel, not a symbol."

"Then you have wasted your time." The voice said. "You will find no such thing here."

"Prevarication does not become a individual of your exalted status, Master Saitek." Savat stated, standing at ease.

A long shadow moved across the far wall. An elderly Vulcan approached. Savat cocked an eyebrow in recognition. Saitek looked remarkably well for a man who was at least 185 years of age. While he was aided by a walking stick, his gait was still that of a younger man and his hands and fingers could have been those of a surgeon. Savat felt an undeniable sense of power in his presence.

Saitek took a few steps forward and regarded Savat with a look of annoyance and curiosity. "I know you." He stated.

"We have never met." Savat replied.

"True, but I know of you. You are one of Satok's chosen."

Savat was mildly surprised that the legendary craftsman knew such information. "I have had an association with the V'Shar in the past." He admitted.

Saitek nodded. "And that is how you came to know of me, and I of you. We both had contact with the stone."

Savat did not respond. It was not his place to do so. Though a decade had passed and he was now back in Starfleet, such information, even an acknowledgement of his involvement, was still classified.

Saitek noted the younger man's stoicism. "Satok has trained you well. Come, I will show you things that will loosen your tongue. Then perhaps you can tell me what brought you here and I can tell you if I can be of assistance."

**** ****

To be continued...

Lieutenant Commander Savat
Chief Operations Officer, USS Galaxy
AKA
David Friedland
ICQ# 5805168

‘We Are Gathered Here Today…’ Part 2

Lieutenant Jg Todd Sansky
Medical Doctor
USS Galaxy

Cameo by Dr Katherine Pulaski
NPC Malcolm Sansky

The Mayflower flew over the rolling hills and mountain peaks of Wales. Rising over a mountain Todd’s hometown came into view. He set the craft down just outside the town.

‘Well Todd here we are, are you ready for this?’ His aunt asked.

‘Well I suppose I will have to be, come on lets get this over with.’ They both collected their luggage and left through the aft hatch. The sleepy village was just as Todd remembered it. Small cottages made of stone with Welsh slate roofs. Climbing the hill, following the track he caught a glimpse of the house he grew up in and was overwhelmed by a flood of emotion. He stopped dead in his tracks and massaged his temple.

‘Is everything alright, are you feeling ok?’ Todd just nodded and continued to his home.

He pressed the door chime and a man in his late 50’s answered the door. ‘Son!’

‘Father, its good to see you.’ Todd walked in and shook his father’s hand before placing his bag and flowers on the floor. ‘Katie, come here and give me a hug.’

‘Ah Malcolm,’ Pulaski said as she embarrassed her old friend, ‘I was so sorry to hear of Patricia’s death.’ The three of them moved into the living area where another man was stood staring out of the large windows out over the landscape.’ He turned and stood by Pulaski.

‘Well you’re here at last, let me guess, my nephews tardiness halted your grand entrance.’ ‘Gordon you haven’t changed a bit, true I waited for Todd’s shuttle, he and I need to catch up, I haven’t seen him since he was a raw cadet, now he’s a lieutenant…’ Malcolm jumped in ‘… lieutenant? Since when son?’ His expression still not one of pride but of duty. ‘Since we docked at Starbase 114, for efforts during the Borg mission.’ The whole room fell into silence when the Borg were mentioned.

Without a word Todd looked at the clock on the wall and left the room picking up his luggage and walking upstairs. He flopped down on his bed.

No sooner had he done so than there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in.’ Todd sat up and watched as his father came in and sat at the desk.

‘You know I have never been comfortable with you Todd or your life in Starfleet, not to mention your lifestyle. But I now it’s time to end all that, your mother would have wanted it, and so do I.’ He held out his hand to his son and Todd took it as he sat up to face his father. Malcolm stood and paced the floor.

‘There’s something else dad, I can sense it.’ ‘Indeed son, your mother is lying in the chapel in town.’ Todd rose and stood behind his father.

‘What do you mean, she was assimilated, the Borg don’t leave bodies, they turn them into drones.’ ‘She was shot by security before those creatures got there hands on her.

She’s in peace Todd.’ He turned with a tear rolling down his cheek as he and his son hugged. The flood of emotion was too much for him as Todd began crying too.

‘The service will begin in an hour, you best get dressed son.’ With that Malcolm left the room and climbed down the stairs. Todd changed into his dress uniform and lifted the white roses out of stasis. He left his room just to bump into Pulaski in the hall whom was also wearing her dress uniform.

‘You look handsome kid, your father told me about your mother’s body, I’m glad she can be laid to rest now.’ The two both walked down the stairs and left the house. The four family members all walked towards the village chapel in silence.

** One Hour Later **

The service had been performed beautifully by his Uncle Gordon, he and his Malcolm had already gone back to the house to meet the guests wanting to share in the wake for Todd’s mother. Todd and Katherine stood by his mother’s grave as he laid the white roses beside her head stone.

‘Mum always loved Rose MacAllen, she said she brought me closer to royalty.’ He also saw a wreath from Captain Riker to his former CMO which pleased Todd to know his mother’s former captain was thinking of her. The two of them walked down the hill from the cemetery arm in arm, talking about old times shared with his mother.

** The next day **

Yesterday had been emotionally draining for the entire family, felt more so by the Betazoids. Todd sat in the conservatory sipping his tea dressed in his civilian clothing. He thought he could almost hear his mother calling out to him from the grave. He knew it was just a residual emotion of her from the past. Still he sat with his eyes closed listening to her, recalling memories. Todd knew he wanted to stay at home for a week or two, he had to get to know his father again and to make sure everything would be alright before the Galaxy left on its next mission. He drifted off to sleep wrapped in his mother’s knitted blanket.

** Two weeks later **

Todd carried his bag as he walked back to the shuttle. He had just left his father and uncle, who were staying at the house, in good spirits. He was glad his father had company and support, it made leaving much easier. He started pre launch when his comm. Badge chirped.

=/\= Pulaski to Sansky, mind if I hitch a lift again? My ship is passing by 114 the same time you will arrive there =/\=

=/\= Of course, stand by while I beam you aboard =/\= He tapped the controls and his aunt was energized into the aft compartment. ‘Thanks lieutenant, this trip will give us a chance to catch up some more and really catch up on life aboard Galaxy.’ ‘It will take longer than a week!'

The hatch closed and the shuttle lifted off, ascending through the clouds and into the atmosphere. Soon the stars were visible as Todd plotted a course and engaged. The Mayflower jumped to warp on her way back to the Starbase.

** Starbase 114 **

After days on board the shuttle both officers were suffering from a bad case of cabin fever. They had caught up on the events of the past 5 years and now the beauty of the starbase was within visual range. They glided into the base through the giant doors. As they entered two enormous ships hung in position, the Galaxy and the Concordia, Starfleet’s largest vessels sitting side by side. Positioning the shuttle next the Concordia Todd signaled for Dr Pulaski to be beamed aboard, his request was granted. They both stood up and moved to the back of the shuttle.

‘ Well this is goodbye, stay in touch Todd, don’t let it be another 5 years till I hear from you again. Good luck aboard the Galaxy.’ ‘God speed Aunty Kathy. Good luck aboard the Concordia.’ =/\= Pulaski to Concordia, one to transport, energize.’ She disappeared in a whirl of blue. Todd smiled and went back to the controls and laid in a course for the shuttlebay.

=/\= Sansky to shuttle control, permission to dock? =/\= =/\= Permission granted lieutenant, welcome home =/\= Todd smiled as he guided the ship into the bay. He felt the thud as the ship landed safely in the mother ship. Todd exited the craft and he inhaled, he smelt the ships air and knew he was home as he headed for his quarters…

"Family Visitation, Part One"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

Also Starring:

Lieutenant Amanda Coleman, Tactical Officer, USS Ransom (NPC) Lieutenant Jeffrey Coleman, Science Officer, USS Ransom (NPC)

Electra stood at the airlock as soon as she got off of bridge duty. Though, it was not like bridge duty was at all necessary when the ship was in dry-dock at starbase for major repairs. But, the bridge being the bridge it had to be manned and so Lexa had spent the last few hours sitting at the OPS console watching the flow of power change as conduits were repaired and replaced, dreading her end of shift.

Now, here she stood at the airlock on deck 16 waiting for the arrival of her maternal grandparents who were Starfleet officers on the USS Ransom. The Ransom had put into port just over 4 hours ago. Lexa had taken a break from looking at her console to watch her come in. She was a beautiful sight, sleek and clean. No gouges or burn marks graced her shiny hull. But she was small and the Galaxy towered over her.

Lexa reflected on the differences in the ships as she watched the airlock door slide open and her grandparents emerge. Though on a full day's leave, neither had on civilian clothing. Her red and his blue uniform tops allowed them to blend in on any Starfleet ship.

Lexa smiled as her grandmother surged forward and wrapped her arms around the towering girl. It was a strange sight, especially after her grandfather joined in and wrapped them both in his strong arms. Anyone passing by would have to take a second or third look at the tableaux. A tall, fairly young woman in a red command uniform was wrapped in the bear-like arms of a near 7 foot white-haired man (whose hair reached his waist) in a blue science uniform. The man looked like he belonged in Security, until you saw the intelligence and vagueness in his blue eyes. Scrunched between these two towering figures - a slight, 5'2" woman with short, cropped white hair and a red command uniform, holding on for dear life.

The trio broke apart and the older two gazed at the younger. "It is so good to see you, Lexa, darling. We've missed you so much. Subspace letters just don't do the job. I am so glad that the Ransom was able to be here while you were. It would have been nice to see you for more than a day, but anything is good. How are you? You're so thin. Aren't you eating enough? You're not working too much, are you? I've told you that an hour of quality work is far better than twelve hours of shoddy work. So, you listen to me about that, alright. But you look good. Thin, yes, but good. Doesn't she, Jeff? I'm so glad you finally found something that makes you happy. I can't resist saying it ... I'm sorry ... but I told you so. Starfleet is just the thing for you. A perfect fit. I know that Benjamin and Nora didn't want you to do this, but you had to do what was right for you. Now, are you going to give us a tour?"

"Amanda ... you haven't taken a breath and given her a chance to answer." The tall man smiled. "It is good to see you Lexa, love. We were worried when the Galaxy was listed as MIA."

Lexa smiled. "I've missed both of you, too. I'm doing alright, Gram. Don't worry so much. I'm a grown woman, you know. And my boss trusts my work. You're on leave. Relax."

Amanda Coleman smiled up at her granddaughter. "I'll relax if you show us around. I've never been on a Galaxy class ship before and this was the first. So ... we expect the grand tour of all tourist spots."

"Okay, come on." Lexa led the way to the nearest working turbolift and stepped inside when the doors opened. "Deck 5." As the lift began its trip, the junior grade lieutenant turned to her grandparents. "You know that I can't show you everything. Regulations. And some of the areas are still being repaired, like the whale tanks. But I can show you some interesting things. I know Pop Pop will love the science labs I can show you. And I'll walk you past the captain's quarters." She grinned. "Quite the thrill. And I'll show you my rooms and the mess hall, recreation areas, and the arboretum. I wish I could show you the bridge."

Amanda smiled as the transporter doors opened and they walked towards the lab. "Darling, I know we can't see that. I couldn't let you on the bridge of the Ransom without express permission from the captain or first officer. We understand. We're just glad to spend time with you, seeing where you live."

************** Four hours later *********************

********

Lexa sat in her quarters with her grandparents seated on the couch nearby. She was exhausted and starving. She had forgotten how energetic these two seemingly elderly people could be. After a six and a half hour shift, four hours of touring the ship had drained her few reserves. She was trying desperately to hide the true extent of her problem from her loved ones. She didn't want them to know how tired she was because she didn't want them to know why she was so tired. There was no way she could tell these two that she had been stalked, jailed, kidnapped, beaten savagely, and seemingly raped. She didn't even want to know about it herself.

"Well, that's pretty much everything. How did you like it?"

"This is a big ship. Very large. But ... you must be hungry. I know I am," said Amanda. "You got off of duty just before you met us. Why don't you show us that wonderful place every ship hears about. Ten Forward."

~ Ten Forward. The most crowded place on the ship. Where I don't want to go. With my luck I'll run into Sansky or McDowell or Corgan and they'll say something about ... Poet. Then the fat'll be in the fire. ~

Lexa sighed. "Why don't we grab something from my replicator. We can talk."

Jeff looked at her searchingly. "Lexa ... is something wrong? You seem a bit ... off."

Lexa smiled. "No. Nothing's wrong. If you really want to see Ten Forward, we'll go. I'm sorry if I'm cranky but I am hungry."

Her grandparents smiled. "Of course. Come on, love. Show us Ten Forward and we'll take care of that problem," Amanda laughed. They rose and left the quarters, Lexa inwardly cringing and crossing her fingers.

"An offer he can't refuse!"
or
Why the heck does Leo dress like a Vulcan?

At tale of danger, drama, and intrigue starring Lt. Raven Darkstar (Security) and his long time pain in the ass Leo Streely (NPC Journalist turned bartender.) With appearences by those dapper bad guys Mr. DePasta, Bob the Enforcer and Gino and Vito the twin muscleheads. (NPC Goons with questionable reputations.)

(When last we left our heroes, Raven had just escorted Leo off the ship only to see him seized by the DePasta family, a gang of stereotypical thugs who no doubt ruffled some Italian feathers in the sim. Racing to his rescue, Raven found himself in the clutches of the mobsters where he is currently using every known security technique in planning and plotting a way out of their predicament )

Here we go...

Time: Shortly after the USS GALAXY docked at Starbase 114
Location: Cargo bay 11, STARBASE 114

"If they don't kill you, I will." Raven snarled from the chair he was tied in.

"OK,OK,OK. I know that things don't look so hot right now..." Leo said. Like Raven, he had been dragged into the abandoned cargo bay and tied to a chair with heavy coils of rope.

"DON'T LOOK SO HOT?!?!" Raven exclaimed, wide eyed. " Leo, in the highly unlikely event that you haven't been paying attention...and its a stretch, I know..let me recap for you. WE ARE TIED TO CHAIRS AND AT THE MERCY OF SOME SORT OF MODERN DAY MOBSTERS!"

From the back room where DePasta and his goons had disappeared, the captive duo heard Bob the enforcer shout out: " We prefer the term made men. Mobster is so passe'."

Raven just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You know, since I met you I have been dragged around the bowels of the ship, had my nose broken, been assaulted by Borg drones..."

"HEY DON'T PIN THE BORG ON ME, ALL RIGHT? LIKE IM A PART OF THE COLLECTIVE!! LEO-CUTUS OF BORG HIMSELF!!" the little man protested from his chair.

"All right. Maybe the Borg weren't your fault. I went too far there," the Indian grudgingly admitted.

"Foggeddaboutit. The important thing is were back! Crocket and Tubbs! Kato and the Green Hornet! Like peanut butter and jelly..."

"OK, Leo. I get the picture."

"Reunited and it feels so good! Like Peaches and Herb. That means your Peaches but I guess.."

"LEO!!" Raven yelled.

"All right, all right. Sorry. You can be Herb if you want. Sheesh. What did you do, have a bad experience with a peach or something?" Streely shrugged.

"No, I never had a bad experience with a fruit! What the hell are..why am I...never mind. We need to get out of here. What did you do to make them so mad?" he asked, motioning with his head to the four men rummaging around in the tool room.

"Oh, it's a long story, OK?"

"If you didn't notice, Leo..WE ARN"T GOING ANYWHERE!!!"

Bob the Enforcer stuck his head out of the shed." You two are like an old married couple, ya know that? Pretty funny." he said taking another bite out of a baloney sandwich (In direct violation of the Galaxy's unwritten tuna fish rule!) and disappearing again while chuckling.

"Was he talking to me?" Raven asked, slightly miffed.

Now Leo rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes, I need to know what you did. Maybe that can help us get out of here." Darkstar said.

"Ok, OK, OK! Ya twisted my arm here. Grab a seat this may take awhile." Leo said.

Raven frowned and wiggled his hands that were still bound to the chair.

"Oh yeah! Right. I forgot. We are in a seat already. All right. Listen. Remember when we were hunting for the changelings a while back? Remember when I said I was gonna write a holo-novel about it?"

"Aww Leo, tell me that you don't owe these guys money!"

"They told me they were just investors! How was I supposed to know that they were mob.." Leo stopped and looked around then leaned in and whispered "that they were Mobsters."

"Are you a complete idiot?" Raven asked.

"OK, I admit it was a bad decision, but I needed the money. Then the book didn't take off like I thought and I still had to pay them back."

"So you ran."

"What else was I supposed to do? And you know what the ironic thing is?"

"Oh do tell." Raven said wryly.

"The book is now a hit! Everyone is reading it! Movie options are discussed! Its making millions and I can't touch any of it. My cousin Vinny - that shyster! -- was my attorney on it and when I disappeared he was the next in line to reap my rewards! Damn fine print!"

'Let me see if I understand this..you borrowed money from the mob to produce a holo-novel about us, that your cousin cheated you out of, and now you have nothing to show for it but the debt you owe these guys. That sound right?"

"Ahh. But I do have one thing. The book was such a hit - detailing life amongst the stars and all - that it won the Pulitzer Prize! Granted I technically stole it from my cousins office one night but the thing was mine to begin with. At least I have ..POLLY!! POLLY!!" Leo cried out seeing the golden Pulitzer Prize Trophy in the meaty hands of Mr. DePasta.

Gino and Vito were right behind him holding a pair of bolt cutters and a wielding torch. Bob the enforcer was synching on a pair of leather gloves.

"If you come near either one of us, I will chew out your throats." Raven said.

"Is he talkin to me?" Bob asked looking at DePasta who waved him silent.

"Such crude words, my friend. We are not violent men. We do not enjoy this part of our jobs. In fact, it hurts us more than it hurts you, I assure you."DePasta said placing the statuette of a woman holding a globe on the counter next to him.

He signaled to Bob the enforcer who moved closer to the pair, testing the bolt cutters in his hands.

Leo was wide eyed in terror while Raven seemed perfectly at ease.

"I'm obliged to tell you that torturing a Starfleet officer is against the law and punishable by dismemberment from said officer. And that said, I would advise that you kill me. It would be the safest thing for you to do."

'All in good time." Depasta said. "Right now, lets talk to my good friend Leo here. Leo who thought that money apparently grows on trees. Leo who thought that I was some sort of phil..plan..some kind of...that I gave money to charities, OK?"

"What he said." Bob agreed while looming over Leo, tool in hand.

"Leo the Pulitzer Prize winner. You stole my money Leo. That makes me very angry. Do you know how angry that makes me?"

"M..M..Mr..DePasta...please...."

"Oh Leo, Shut up. If you sit there and beg and whimper, I'll crawl over there and kill you myself." Raven said then looked at Depasta. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this but is killing him really gonna get you your money back? He can't be worth more than 3 credits."

"Hey! I had myself appraised on the black market and I happen to know that my organs alone are worth more than that!" Leo insisted.

"There's not an organ in your body that anyone would pay to see except that tiny little brain of yours!" Raven said.

"This coming from the guy who walked right into an ambush after his fellow CREWMAN was kidnapped. Nice job ace. I feel real secure OK? I bet Corgan wouldn't have done that."

"Why you little.." Raven said straining against his ropes.

"Boys, Boys, Boys." DePasta said, " While your little antics may be amusing to my associates, I'm afraid I have places to go and people to see. Now Leo, I only want to ask you this once...where is my money?"

Nervously Leo's eyes darted between Raven and Bob who was holding the large and sharp bolt cutters wide open before him.

"I..I..I don't ha-have the money, but If you gave me just a little more time..."

DePasta frowned. "Times up Leo," he nodded to the now smiling Bob. Leo scrunched his eyes shut bracing for the pain.

"Don't give them the satisfaction of hearing you scream Leo." Raven said watching as Bob placed a limb in the cutters mouth and ...

SNIP!!!

Leo shouted briefly then realized he could still feel all of his fingers and toes. That meant his arms were still there. He peeked open an eye and saw his prized award was now missing an arm.

"POLLY!! POLLY!! YOU FREAKIN BARBARIANS!! POLLY WHAT DID THEY DO TO YA!!" Leo erupted.

"Its just a statue, Leo." Raven said shaking his head.

"NOT TO ME IT AINT!!! KEEP AWAY FROM HER!! LEAVE HER ALONE!! TAKE HIM IF YOU HAVE TO!!" he said motioning to Raven.

"Take me?!?!" Darkstar said.

"Again, Leo...where is my money?" DePasta asked.

"I don't have..."

SNIP!!!

A second arm fell to the floor.

"JESUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING!! YOUR KILLING HER!! YOU SICK FREAKS!! SHE DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS. THIS IS BETWEEN YOU, RAVEN AND ME!!!"

Raven was dumbfounded. " What do you mean Raven and me? I don't owe them a damn thing. Keep snipping."

Bob had other ideas. He had ignited the cutting torch and was testing it's searing flame. DePasta moved closer to Leo and grabbed his face. "Now Leo..think carefully. I'm only gonna ask one more time. Pay attention now. Where. Is. My. Money."

"What are you deaf or something! I spent it and don't have it..OK! OK! OK! I didn't mean deaf, I meant..NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" Leo screamed as Bob turned the torch flame against the statue and melted it into a puddle of slag.

"Bring the chains" DePasta said to Vito and Gino. They each produced two lengths of chain that were bolted to cement blocks. Carefully they fastened them to the captives ankles then placed the cinder blocks in their laps and rolled the chairs into an airlock.

"WAITAMINUTE, OK, OK. I GET THE POINT, OK!! THERES NO NEED FOR MURDER ALLRIGHT. I'LL LET YOU SLIDE ABOUT POLLY SHE'S JUST A TRINKET. LET'S JUST CALL US EVEN OK?"

"Can we gag him?" Raven asked, listening to Leo wail.

Bob shrugged his shoulders. I don't see why not," he said as he withdrew a handkerchief and plopped it into Leo's mouth.

"If he had the money today, would you have let him go?" Raven asked. He had read something about negotiation in his security manual at STARFLEET that he had dismissed as fantasy. He wished he had paid a bit more attention to it now. Maybe read a sentence or two.

'Of coarse, but he doesn't have it. It's about principal now," DePasta said. " I can't let people steal from me. It makes me look bad. You understand I'm sure. Any last words?"

Bob reached for Leo's gag and Raven cleared his throat loudly. " Please. Don't."

"Good Idea." Bob said backing away from the little man..

"How about you, Starfleet?" DePasta asked.

Raven sighed. "Tell me this at least. How much does he owe you?'

"Plus interest, ah...." DePasta paused to calculate..."750 credits."

Raven was stunned. " THAT'S IT?!?! 750 CREDITS!! YOUR AVERAGE FERENGI HAS THAT STUCK TO THE BOTTOM OF HIS SHOE!!!!"

"I told you it was a matter of principal." the fat man shrugged.

Raven thought for a moment, then sighed again. "Would 375 credits by my life? That's half of what this weasel owes you."

The mobsters all looked at one another. They all nodded. " I don't see why not. I'm not an unreasonable man. That gives me money and I get to still make an example of Leo here. You just made me an offer I can't refuse.' DePasta said. He motioned for Bob who wheeled Raven out of the air lock and brought a PADD to his still bound fingers.

"Just key in your account and transfer the funds and your free to go." Bob whispered. Raven did as ordered and after receiving confirmation of the transaction he wheeled Raven aside and shut the airlock.

"Good-bye Leo," DePasta called out reaching for the purge switch.

Leo was in the full grip of disbelief as his eyes followed the man's meaty hand. He screamed as his finger touched the red button and..

"Hold on." Raven said. " I should have my head examined for this but would another 375 buy his miserable life too? That would pay off his debt."

Again DePasta thought for a moment. "Make it 400 and you have a deal."

"400!! That's robbery!! His debt was only 700 credits."

"Yes, but I have to make something. For emotional distress and all at not seing him gasping for air in outer space."

Raven looked at Leo, who was wiggling his bound hands. "All right fine. He said. I'll pay the credits."

Again he paid the fee while Leo was rolled out of the airlock and parked next to the Indian.

"MMPH MMPH ARMPH WMMURHHH MMMMUMBOPH!' Leo said through the gag.

"Oh you'll pay me back every red cent, all right. And while your in my debt, I own you."

"MMPHMM MMMUMMMOOPP???!!"

"What kind of pervert are you?" Raven asked. " What I want is for you to stay far away from me. The only time you see me is to pay me. I figure that ought to give me about 7 or 8 weeks of peace and sanity. And if you dont pay me..you'll be wishing you were in the airlock. Understood?"

"MMPH MMPH!" Leo said through his gag.

DePasta and his goons moved to the door. " Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure doing business with you. If you ever need another loan, look us up."

"Waitaminute! You wanna untie us?" Raven said looking at the chains and ropes around his body.

"I think not. I don't want you chasing me down before I leave this station. You starfleet types have this heroic streak in most of you. Someone will find you in a day or so. Have a good day boys." he said exiting the cargo bay and shutting the door leaving Raven and Leo still bound to their chairs.

Raven looked at the gagged little man.

"Nice going, 'partner'."

"Explanation and Misunderstandings"
A Joint Post by:

Lieutenant jg James Lionel Corgan
Security Officer, USS Galaxy

Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

And finally, after a long hiatus due to a Vulcan Mind Meld, James Corgan's Conscience, ready to make his life a living hell!

Location: Electra's Quarters

(NRPG: Soundtrack: "Stinkfist" by Tool [a half mad telling of the truth scene])

There wasn't much time to prepare for the concert. Only thirty six hours left until the holodeck would be filled with concert goers. The holodeck still needed to be tuned for the concert, announcements made on the ship's community message board and he have to go through his duty shifts. Instead of taking a break from the horrid stress of the last mission, he jumped into even more tasks with unequal fervor. James didn't mind the work. He was an entertainer at heart, and most of the skills involving holodeck modifications and stage preparation he learned since he was a child. All he needed was his guitar, his 1997 Fender Strat antique that was the centerpiece of his musical career. Playing a holographic guitar wasn't the same, so he needed his guitar back badly.

Hence the trip to Electra Reece's quarters. She had the guitar, and he had to get it back. He avoided his friend since the last mission, being uncomfortable with the events of the past. Fate forced the issue, however, and like it or not he had to take the weight of his guilt off his back and talk to her. The guitar was there as a coincidence, like in the grand scheme of life, one tiny event caused a chain of events that ended in what would be either an apology and forgiveness, or the ruination of a friendship.

He had to get his guitar somehow, and he had to tell her what was bothering him. James lied to Poet, and it ruined his friendship with Lieutenant Von Ernst. He didn't want his lies to do anymore damage, even if the truth was risky in itself. He risked his friendship with Electra too, but at least he thought he was doing what was right.

Lieutenant Corgan rang her doorbell. A chirp announced his presence on the other side.

Electra looked up from the pile of paperwork she had brought to her quarters. For the past weeks while the Galaxy was being repaired in dry-dock, she had been burying herself in the mundane in order to occupy her mind. The door chimed again. "Enter."

He walked into Electra Reece's quarters, making this the third ladies quarters he has ever seen in his life. Last time was an ambush by Rebecca, a disaster James should have seen minutes before. Now, his 'shit hit the fan' senses were on overload, bursting into flames before the red alert could be sounded.

Taking a deep breath, he stopped at her desk, being piled to the brim with PADD's. Somehow, he envied the woman. She looked peaceful, like the distraction was doing her some good, and the amount of paperwork wasn't such a daunting task.

Lexa was surprised to see Corgan. She had thought they were friends but she hadn't seen him since the Borg sent them home. And she wasn't sure her judgment hadn't been skewed. Maybe they weren't friends. He seemed uncomfortable to be here. She stood. "What can I do for you?"

"I..." He paused, truly thinking, ~ I'm here to tell you that it's my fault Poet beat you and did such awful things to you. Oh, and according to him and my lying mouth, we are sleeping together. Please forgive me!~

Avoiding the question seemed like a great idea at the time. He avoided it, opting for a soft spoken, "I'm here to pick up my guitar. Big concert in a few days. It's ... at holodeck 50 at the starbase."

"Your guitar? Oh, yes. I have it." Lexa walked over to the closet and opened the door. She lifted out the guitar and handed it to him. "Here."

The glistening ivory finish of the instrument reflected the light beautifully, showing James's tired face. He took the instrument graciously, and took the amplifier with his other hand as he slung the guitar on his back. He felt good to have his trusted guitar back. It was the only piece of him that survived the fighting intact, thanks to Electra's loving care.

"Um... thank you Lexa. I mean Miss Reece! Sorry about that. Welll ... That was really nice of you to do that for me. You know... take care of the guitar and all. Have you played it?" James asked her. He caught himself saying Lexa, the name Poet used to name Lieutenant Reece. He didn't want to use a name associated with the former stalker, in fear of awakening any memories.

Surprised, she answered, "No. Trust me, I didn't touch the guitar. I just put it in the closet and waited for you to get it back. Why? Is something wrong with it?"

"No, Miss Reece. Nothing's wrong with it. It's too bad you didn't play it, because it's such a rare treat to play an antique such as this. Tell you what, if I somehow manage to live through the next few days, how about I teach you play? It's quite similar to your acoustic model, but with a few more bells and whistles. Deal?"

~ I thought we were friends but he apologized for calling me by the nickname Cassandra gave me and he keeps calling me Miss Reece. Maybe he is turned off by what happened. I don't blame him. I'm so ... ~

Electra smiled wryly. "I guess you're right not to use my Academy nickname, though I don't know how you knew it in the first place. But I had thought we were friends, Mr. Corgan." Electra shook herself mentally. ~ Don't take your problems out on him. ~

"Though I suppose it isn't unusual that you didn't know, I don't tell many people. But I've played the guitar for 20 years. I taught myself how when I was 12 and I've worked on perfecting my technique since then. I even..." Lexa glanced down, trailing off. "But you're not interested, I'm sure, Mr. Corgan."

"Oh... I didn't mean that. Honestly, I still consider you a friend. Honest. Honest to god. Cross my heart and all that crap. And I'm very interested, very interested indeed. Hell, I've been an entertainer and guitar player since I was a little kid. And I'm terribly sorry about the nickname. You mean... that name... it was... ummm... what the hell? That was your nickname?" He asked.

"Yes." Electra confirmed.

"Ummm... what can I say except... sorry about that. I didn't know it was your nickname from your academy days. I just..."

~ Don't mention Poet you bleeding MORON!!! ~ His conscience screamed out.

He continued, "I just heard it around. That's all. It sounds cute... I mean great. Great nickname and all. Love it."

"Oh, that's alright."

"Well then... *ahem*. Right O. Everything's in order now and I'll be on my way." He apologized, "Sorry to interrupt your paperwork. I'll be going now."

Lexa looked at his back, fighting back tears. ~ I guess he is ... disgusted. I'm so dirty. Poet was right. No one wants me. I'm a giant... a freak. Especially after what he did to me. I should have been assimilated when I had the chance. ~

The door waited for him to chicken out of the situation. His conscience taunted and teased, somehow reminded him that he was only running away from telling the truth. The door was so close, a few steps away to freedom. In searching for a way out, did he not in return dig himself a deeper hole? The truth had to be told.

~ But, the truth is so damaging. How can I tell her without doing any more damage? There's got to be an easy way around this? ~

~ Nope, no easy way around this, pal. Confront, cause we've got a concert to catch, ~ His conscience wheedled, ~ Besides, if in the great possibility that she does end up hating you like Rebecca Von Ernst, you'll just be back at square one. ~

"Hold on a second." James said, confronting his worse fear of the moment and deciding to take action, before he became spineless once more, "I have something to tell you."

Lexa flinched inwardly. ~ Please don't let him be noble and tell me I'm right and he doesn't want to see me. I wish he would stay. I thought we were friends ... I even thought he might want ... no, that was a stupid thought before and even more so now. He's going to ask me to stay away from him. ~

Electra gazed at James with apprehension tinged with longing. The gaze was nearly his undoing as his eyes met hers.

~ Awww frag. She's using the tears. Look away... look a freaking way...~ He thought, trying to turn away from the emotional display. He felt uncomfortable, like he stumbled onto an embarrassing moment. At least for him shedding tears was embarrassing, did she regard it in the same way?

~ Focus you pile of sh1t! ~ His conscience blared, ~ Talk to her and maybe, just maybe, you'll get your ass out of the fire! Get it? Got it? GOOD! NOW DO IT YOU P*SSY! ~

~ But, look at her. I can't hurt her anymore. ~

~ OH, so you're just going to keep it and let it eat away at you? Really smart, broken head! Now do it, do it, DO IT! ~

Lexa turned her head away and blinked her eyes. She was trying desperately to subvert her emotions.

~ Alright, alright. I'll do it. ~

~ That's better, pussmiester. ~

"Well... ummm... how can I say this without having my balls raked over hot coals?" He questioned, "Oh well. To tell you the truth, Lexa, you better brace yourself for this, because the only way I can say it is bluntly... it's my fault Poet assaulted you. There, I said it. No going back now."

Lexa stared at him in shock. "Y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-you? What d-d-d-do you m-m-m-mean? Y-y-y-you t-t-t-t-t-t-t-told h-him ..." Lexa backed away, shaking her head in confusion. "W-w-w-what do you m-m-mean?!?"

"Don't you want to know why he assaulted you that last time? If you think that you'll be angry now, wait until I tell you the next part."

~ What could be worse than that? ~ She thought, fighting back the tears and the flood of bad memories.

"Here we go," James started his tale of woe, from the beginning, "It all started when I was searching for Poet, and I was trying to track his activities on the ship's computer network. You see, every time he went on and did some activities, I used a special detection program that a friend of mine gave me. The signal I received was actually a communication to my comm.-badge."

~ Right, he was trying to help. I remember him saying he would help. He was helping, not hurting. Helping. James helped. What does he mean, he's responsible. I don't understand. He was helping. He was trying to get him. He wasn't hurting me. I thought he wanted to help because he wanted to help me and help me. He was helping. ~

He took a second to pause and catch his breath. Still uncertain as to what she was thinking beyond the base emotion of sadness, he continued, "This is the part where I f**ked it all up, Lexa. I just wanted to keep him on the line. I wanted him on the line, so I lied like a Cardassian in an interrogation cell. Oh... but wait... there's more to the story than that. Want to hear about the lies?"

His momentum in the speech caught him on, as he spoke silken words of dread, weaving a spider web that the couple couldn't escape from. His mind finally gave way, like he couldn't stop himself. Speaking as if half insane, he told the greatest piece of the puzzle.

"I'll tell you lies that'll make your head spin. Did you know that according to my filthy f**king mouth, I'm seducing Rebecca and sleeping with you? Hah! Bet you didn't see that one coming."

Lexa's mind was still trying to sort out him helping and it wasn't following his explanation, until three words caught at the edges and swung the traumatized mind in a new direction. ~ He's seducing Rebecca? Cute, cuddly, TINY Rebecca. I am a fool. Tiny Rebecca ... Pretty Rebecca ... Smart Rebecca ... Not Giant Electra ... Freakish Electra ... Used Electra...~

Lexa continued caught up in her thoughts and her ears shunted the conversation they were hearing to a box labeled "Busy Signal Please Try Again Later". Her mind whirled as she stood shocked, not hearing his words, not understanding his meaning, just knowing that he had said he was seducing Rebecca. Her mind stopped listening after those three words.

"And you know what? Poet actually believed the bullsh!t coming from my mouth. It was what he wanted to hear, and I gave it to him in the worse kind of way. I turned myself into the opposite of him, the user, the filthy whore, as opposed to the delusional romantic. I made myself the villain, so that he could stay on the line for a few more seconds, so that I could trace him and find his quarters. And was it worth it? Hell no! He left his quarters and got accidentally caught by Lieutenant McCarthy! What's worse, finding that I was willing to drag my friends reputations through the mud to catch a criminal, or to find that it was all just a waste of my time? Because of me, and Poet's big freaking mouth, Rebecca hates me eternally, and I suppose you'll be the next one in line to call me 'enemy'. You know, it is my fault. Right after I talked to Poet, spilled that serpent's venom in his ear, he went insane, and the rest you experienced for yourself in a drugged out stupor! He assaulted you for REVENGE, Lexa, revenge. He wanted to punish you because he believed what I told him, then he told Rebecca just to make me lose a friend. And you know what? I deserve it. I deserve it all! I'm an evil son of a bitch!"

Her mind registered that he had stopped talking and she tried to focus on him. Her mind tried to access that box but found only a jumble of disconnected words and phrases. The sophisticated biological machine, overworked and traumatized, took fragments and put them together into something far from the original whole. ~ He was seducing Rebecca when he was supposed to be helping me. That is why he feels guilty. And Poet knew no one was looking for him because James had his pants down. ~ Lexa just stared at James, unsure what to say.

He watched her face frozen in stunned silence for a second. He truly felt dirty after this. He thought the truth would set him free, maybe get rid of the sudden guilt he felt for ruining his friend's lives. The plan didn't work, instead his stomach felt like it twisted and boiled at the same time. The truth didn't set him free, it only made him feel even more sick than usual.

"I'm a bad, bad man, Lexa. Underneath this pretty boy there's another Weyoun waiting to grow. I'm not the good guy, I'm a bad person, and my actions are felt by my friends most of all. I watch as everything dies and changes around me, even you and Rebecca. You two changed. You're no longer the innocent, peaceful people I once knew. Hell, I helped bring that time to an end with my actions and Poet's reactions. Poet robbed you, Lexa, and I only helped you suffer more. Do you understand me now? It's my fault all this happened. It's all my fault. If you want to hurt someone, hurt me! Hurt the guy that brought this all down on you!"

Lexa took a deep breath and dismissed her final dreams. ~ If he likes Rebecca, he couldn't like me, not as more than a friend. And he feels guilty. For seducing Rebecca when he should have been helping me. He thinks he ruined us both by that. If I am going to have him as a friend, obviously all he ever wanted, then I have to let him know I don't blame him.~

"I just beg for forgiveness, Lexa. I don't want to lose another friend. I've lost enough of those, and I'm still a young man. You're special to me, and I risked losing you in such a destructive manner. If you don't want to forgive me, fine. I deserve to rot in hell for all I've done these past few days. It's hard to forgive a liar and a thief... and maybe a murderer for all the Borg I killed. I don't deserve your mercy, but I still ask for it. What is your answer?"

Lexa took a deep breath as she watched her hopes drift over the horizon. "I forgive you, James. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped him, no matter what you had been doing when he hurt me. Rebecca is special and I hope everything works out between you two. Good luck with your concert, I'll try to make it there."

Turning her back to him she walked over to her desk and placed her hand on a stack of PADDs.

"Lexa..." He said, "this was way too easy. Don't you fully realize what I've done? I told the freaking Poet that I literally had made love to you... I mean had dirty freaking sex with you, just to purposely piss him off. You can forgive me all you want about Rebecca, but that doesn't matter. I want forgiveness from you, about the things I did to you and only you. If you ask me, I think you haven't been listening in to all of my story."

"Wait... but what do you mean?" She asked.

"I'm a security officer, and that means I'm supposed to dig for the truth. It also helps that I wasn't born yesterday. You're either not clear on everything or you

're hiding something from me. I want to hear, straight up from you, how you feel about me now that I've done all this to you. Forget Rebecca for a second, just try to recall what I said, and judge me on that. Have you been listening to me?"

Confused, she asked, "What? We never did that. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about what I said to Poet, Electra. I lied to him about seducing Rebecca and I lied to him about making love to you. Didn't you catch that?"

She was more confused than before. First believing that he loved Rebecca and not knowing why he blamed himself for the assault, she now didn't know what to believe anymore. She was befuddled so much she nearly fell out of her seat. She nodded her head rapidly, her hands on each cheek, muttering almost incoherently. James could make out a "no... no... no..."

"Look, I'm sorry to have done this to you, Lexa. I really am sorry. Believe me when I say I don't want any harm to come to you. I care about you too much. Do you understand?" James begged. He didn't know what to do next, for he didn't predict Electra's reaction. He didn't know why she was confused. He wasn't sure how he read that in her thoughts. It could have easily been taken at face value, but as a security officer, he had to look beyond the face. This proved to be harder than he thought against the distraught friend. ~ What is going on in there? ~ He thought, ~ How did I screw this one up? ~

~ Hmmmmm... you obviously confused her in the rush to tell the truth. Bleeding idiot. ~ He received a snappy answer to his question, ~ I'd say... now's a great time to retreat. Get the hell out of here! ~

Faced with two choices, he obviously didn't trust his unruly conscience. His feet stood firm on the carpet, unwavering, watching the breakdown of Electra Reece like he witnessed before. It dawned on him that she was fragile. Rushing in with her well being in his hands served to shatter her brittle image even further. She required a more gentle touch, and he couldn't be the one to provide such support just yet.

"Lexa, I'm sorry to have done this to you. Tell you what, I'll talk to you about this later, whenever you're ready. I told you the truth, and I don't know how much of it you caught, but I hope that you can forgive me. Please, talk to me when you're ready. I insist. I want to see you again sometime, even if it's just a goodbye, because I don't want to lose a friend. I have so few of them..."

~ Friend. Friend. I was right. ~ Lexa swallowed and bit the inside of her lip. ~ Stop being a baby. Life sucks and then you die. You've learned that by now. Stop crying! ~

"Look, I can only do this for you. Take this." He raised his hand to his face, his palm turned away from Electra's face. He clenched his fist, flicked his wrist and outstretched his hand. He produced one ticket, marked 'The San Francisco Sessions".

Lieutenant Reece looked at the ticket. "What is this for?"

"Front row, center my friend. Only a few of the Galaxy's officers are getting these tickets. I hope you'll make a serious effort to attend." James said.

"I'll be there. I'm glad to have you as a ... f-f-friend. Thank you. And I'm sorry. I'm a problem, I know."

James looked at her in confusion, with a dawning idea. "Um, no you're not the problem, I am. Just come to the concert, okay?"

Lexa looked at him, biting her lip. "I'll be there," she repeated.

"Seriously, I have to go now. I have a stage to set up, holodeck arrangements to make, and all sorts of stuff to deal with the Counsel of Arts and Culture. I hope you really do come, because I have a song dedicated to my friends, and I don't want you to miss it. That is... if we're still friends. Are we?"

"Y-y-yes. We're still ... friends." Her shaking hand took the ticket from Lieutenant Corgan. She was too confused, and not wanting to sort through the plethora of information set before her, she picked up a PADD and continued her work. She immersed herself in the next OPS report.

"Alright then. I'll be going. See you soon, I hope." James sighed.

The exit looked like a good alternative. He tried the counseling bit before, telling a suicidal man to take revenge on the Borg. ~ Helping people only hurt them, so I better quit while I'm ahead. ~ He reasoned. Watching a person whom he barely knew die in a torrent of energy burst was bad enough, and he couldn't stand the strain of a friend dying because of his mental tinkering. The exit beckoned. Time to retreat after all.

Lexa looked up from the PADD and watched as he left the room, whispering under her breath, "I love you." Though a breath of sound reached James, he couldn't make any word out and thought she had just said goodbye. He walked out of the room, leaving Lexa behind.

~ I do care about her, I really do. ~ Corgan thought.

~ If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were charmed, little man. ~ His conscience butted in.

~ Hey pal, who the hell asked you? ~

~ I the hell asked me, that's who. I knew it! I so fragging knew it! You have feelings for those two women. ~

~ I most certainly do not! I'm not that stupid! I know there's no such thing as love, and anything else associated with it is weakness! How dare you say that. ~

~ Then why are you friends with them? Face it pal, you think you can survive on your own, but you're so wrong. I know you try to avoid people, and yet that failed when you meet them. Kindred souls they are, and you can't help but seek companionship there. Why do you fight it? I know you long for the smooth caress, the kind words... the intimacy that you denied yourself before. Remember Aleena Nguyen? You closed your heart to her, why do you do it to Electra. She obviously likes you. ~

~ You lie. I cannot love, she cannot love me, and I will not, and absolutely, positively will not be trapped again! Love is dead, intimacy is obsolete and there is only death left to look forward to. ~

~ But you liked it... ~

~ It doesn't matter what I like. So what if I wanted to kiss Rebecca? So what if Electra likes me? They are fools and so am I. I don't need to love in that fashion, and that's final! ~

~ Yes you do, and you've been seeking it for a long time, so long that almost any little sign affects you. You want to, and you found the perfect person to be with. You hover towards the rejects like a moth to a flame... ~

~ And my world was so f**king gone... I remember that song. The minute I love someone, that's the end of me. I can't do it. I can't. ~

~ Fine, be a p*ssy. You have a chance at being that 'knight in shining armor' you always wanted to be. I know... that was before you watched everyone you know die. Too bad! You care for her, so why not? Oh, because 'love is dead'. Whining, crying, pining little b!tch. Prepare for another lifetime of nothing. ~

~ No problem. The way I see it, if I didn't expect it, it shouldn't have happened. ~

He knew he was only fooling himself, that somehow by her tears, that he was being manipulated slowly by himself and allowing it to happen. The day didn't put to rest anything. It dredged up even more problems and confused him further. He didn't want to go further on the topic. He still had mixed reading to sort through, an emotion he thought had to be snuffed out at all costs. It didn't work. Shaking his head and groaning in frustration, he dropped the subject and entered the turbolift. To him, he still had hours to set up the stage on holodeck 50. That gave him plenty of time to think about his dilemma.

~ I wish she didn't turn on the waterworks. ~ With that final thought, the turbolift closed and took him to the nearest hatch to the starbase.

Lexa sat in her quarters, staring at the closed door, unable to concentrate on her work. "Computer, play 'Beethoven's Fifth", full orchestral sound, from the concert hall in Boston, my personal file."

As the heavy sounds filled the room, Lexa lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, mind whirling, trying to decide what she should say or do the next time she saw him.

"Family Visitation, Part 2"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

Also Starring:

Lieutenant Amanda Coleman, Tactical Officer, USS Ransom (NPC) Lieutenant Jeffrey Coleman, Science Officer, USS Ransom (NPC)

Electra sat at a table in Ten Forward with her back to the bar, thus hiding her face from anyone coming in. Her grandparents sat across the table, looking around in pleasure as the waiter came to take their orders.

Amanda smiled at the young man and requested two waters and two orders of Terran chicken fried rice, topped with soy sauce. When the man turned to Lexa, she smiled weakly, having hoped the meal would be a quick one, and ordered the same, but with an orange juice.

After the man walked away, Amanda focused her gaze on her granddaughter.

"Now, tell me what is wrong. I know something is wrong. You are never this quiet around us. I know that it isn't that you aren't glad to see us. But something is wrong. I know you well enough to know that, child. I know, you're not a child anymore. But, you are still young and you are my granddaughter and I insist that you tell me what is bothering you. Is it your shyness? I know you had a hard time making friends. Is that it? You don't have any friends here? If so, I can help you. You just have to make a push to socialize more, that's all. Come to this marvelous room and talk to people. Or is it the last mission. We were so worried when the Galaxy disappeared. We thought we might have lost you. But you are okay. But I know, the Galaxy took heavy casualties. Is that the problem? I heard that the man who was chief of OPS died. I guess that could hurt. If it is that, talk it over with a counselor. That is what they are there for. Or is it something else? Did something happen? What's wrong, sweetheart? Tell me, I can help. I pro-- "

Jeff interrupted the flow with the ease of long practice. "We're worried about you Lexa. Just tell us what is wrong and how we can help."

Lexa stared at them helplessly. She really didn't want to go there. She took a deep breath and sighed as the waiter came into view with their food and drinks. She lowered her head and concentrated on the plate in front of her as her companions looked at one another in defeat. "Bad timing," mouthed Jeff.

*******************Twenty minutes later******************

Their meals finished, Lexa toyed with her fork as she avoided her grandmother's eyes. She finally replied to the topic that had been continually brought up over the past half hour. "Nothing is wrong. It was a long mission and I'm tired. It's been a bit of a difficult transition with Lieutenant Commander Surok dying. It created a lot of work for me and I just haven't caught up on my rest, I guess. I'm sorry if I haven't been good company."

Amanda leaned forward and placed her hand over Lexa's on the table. "You aren't bad company. We just worry. We want you to be happy."

Lexa smiled. "I am happy," she lied. "I have friends on the ship and I love my work. I'm just tired. Really."

Jeff smiled. "Good. Then we'll drop the subject, won't we, Amanda? How about we get some dessert? I could spring for a brownie bottomed pie. What do you say, Lexa?"

She smiled, knowing that the subject would be dropped now that her grandfather had said so. "That sounds delicious. Let's do it."

"Family Visitation, Part 3"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

Also Starring:

Lieutenant Amanda Coleman, Tactical Officer, USS Ransom (NPC) Lieutenant Jeffrey Coleman, Science Officer, USS Ransom (NPC)

With an authorized appearance by: Lieutenant jg James Lionel Corgan, Security Officer

Lexa stood and stretched after that decadent dessert. Her grandparents met each other's eyes and smiled, glad she seemed to be feeling better. They walked towards the doors to Ten Forward, only to be stopped by an incoming patron. The young man in a gold Security uniform stopped at the sight of Lexa and smiled. "Hi. How are you doing?"

Lexa smiled back. ~ Please don't mention it, please, please, please. ~

"Hi, James. I'm okay." She pulled her grandmother forward, trying to stop him from talking. "This is my grandmother, Lieutenant Amanda Coleman and my grandfather," she pointed to the man behind her, "Lieutenant Jeffrey Coleman. They are both stationed on the USS Ransom which put into starbase for a few hours earlier today and they came to see me." She turned to her family. "This is Lieutenant James Corgan. He works in Security and is very efficient. We're friends."

Amanda held out her hand as she eyed him speculatively. "It's nice to meet you, James." James grasped her hand and smiled, "It's mutual, ma'am."

Jeff stuck out his hand, mumbling, "Corgan, Corgan, Corgan, I know that name. Corgan ... " His hand was gripped and shaken. "Corgan ... I have it! Didn't I see a notice about a concert by a Corgan?"

"Yes sir. I'm giving a concert. You are welcome to come if you can."

"We might, if we're still here."

James smiled and excused himself. "It was nice to meet you both. See you later, Electra."

Lexa smiled as he walked away, glad he had understood not to say anything about the Poet situation in front of her family. She continued out the door as Amanda grabbed her arm and linked her own arm through it. As they walked towards the airlock, she began, "Well, he certainly seems a nice young man. He is in Security? And you are ... friends? That is very nice.

He seems very responsible and I think I've discovered the real reason you're so distracted. James Corgan. Solid name. I hope things work out for you.

If he hurts you, I'll have your Pop Pop break him in half. Right, Jeff?"

"Yes," he rumbled. "Assuming you're right, Amanda."

Lexa writhed in mental agony. Her feelings for James were strong, true. She would like to be with him, true. But he had as much as told her that he wasn't attracted to her. He wanted to seduce Rebecca von Ernst (a misapprehension Lexa still suffered under) and the two of them couldn't be more different.

"Gram, he's just a friend right now. He is very nice but he doesn't feel that way about me. He is seeing someone else, or was, or wants to."

"But you like him."

Lexa looked down and softly said, "Yes."

"It'll work out. You'll see. Just wait. But we have to go, darling. The Ransom is leaving soon. But keep in touch, alright."

"I will, Gram. I love you both." And she stepped into their embraces for a full minute before they walked through the airlock and waved goodbye.

**********The Coleman's Quarters, USS Ransom**************

Amanda sat at the terminal in her living room as the Ransom slid out of the starbase. She hit the button to send her letter and sat back, a pleased smile on her face.

Dear Mr. Corgan,

It was a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry that my husband and I will be unable to attend your concert, but the Ransom has been called out on a mission. I hope everything goes well. We look forward to seeing you again. Give my granddaughter a hug and kiss for us when you see her. Have a safe journey through the stars.

Yours,

Amanda Coleman

"MacAllen's Long Lost Father"
By Lt. Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer

Guest Starting
Admiral Owen Paris
Captain Victor MacAllen (USS China)
Commander Harriet King (MacAllen's XO)

**Earth, SFHQ, Admiral Paris's Officer**

Victor MacAllen, and his XO Commander Harriet King walked into Admiral Paris's Officer.

"Do you know what this is sir?" the young black woman said to MacAllen. Harriet heard about Rose doing very well in Starfleet, she was so happy Rose was like a daughter to Harriet since Rose was very young coming on the China during her holidays.

"Owen trying to get the Captain while the USS Galaxy is in dry dock before the next mission I can't

wait to see Rose again." Victor said with a smile.

Owen looked up from his paperwork as Victor and Harriet walks in and smiles.

"I was about to call you, the USS Galaxy is docked at Starbase 114 until their next mission. Captain Price is her commanding officer; I think you met him once did you not Victor?" Owen asked Victor.

MacAllen shook his head, "Yes a very good officer as I remember. Do you think he will let me visit her before their next mission?"

Harriet looks at them and smiles, "I don't see why not."

Owen opens a channel to the USS Galaxy and starts typing:

To: Captain Price, Commanding Officer USS Galaxy From: Admiral Owen Paris, SFHQ
RE: Captain Victor MacAllen, Lt. Rose Isis MacAllen's father

Dear Captain,

A few months ago the USS Lexington found Captain Victor MacAllen, the former Captain of the USS China, (Galaxy-Class) escaping from a labor camp where he had been the prisoner of war. Also found were his XO, CMO, and CSO. Now that he is back with us he wanted to see Rose again. I know this will shock her since Starfleet told Rose and her mother that he died in battle.

Please get back to me as soon as you can about this.

Sincerly,
Admiral Owen Paris, SFHQ

"Now all we can do now is wait." Owen told them.

“In Sessions”
By Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
Security Officer, USS Galaxy

Location: All over the place. He is preparing for the San Francisco Sessions, which means waking up, answering messages, repairing his tattoo (if you recall, a Borg disrupter blast ruined his ‘fallen angel’), setting up a holotheatre and traveling around the starbase to prepare for the concert. Then, we get to the start of the freaking concert!

I should have the first part of the San Francisco Sessions ready by Sunday at the latest, maybe earlier, so everyone that’s going to bother to show up, show up!

Morning, 6:00 hours.

He woke to the sound of a sweet, innocent female voice. Her matronly call beckoned him out of a peaceful slumber. He was forcibly removed from a dream, or beautiful pastel forests, graceful deer, and him with his shotgun. Such a beautiful dream he had, with no Borg interrupting the wonderful dreamland. Its been that way for weeks, not that he didn’t mind.

Borg couldn’t touch him here, but the computer had other plans.

=/\=”Wake up call, six hundred hours!”=/\= Her voice called.

The dreamland started to slip away, as he had in his sights the most beautiful buck he has ever seen. So graceful, with such a proud display of antlers that he couldn’t resist wanting to kill the prey. He had nothing against the deer, but that was how life went. The specimen was worth preserving, it was so beautiful.

The dream faded further. He woke up, groggily, protesting to the motherly tone of the computer to “shut up!”

=/\=”Command not recognized. Wake up call, six hundred hours!”=/\=

“Figures,” He grumbled, “I’m up, just please stop that incessant calling.”

=/\=”Command recognized.”=/\=

“Thank you, my dear.”

He felt very tired. It wasn’t often that he woke up at this time. Usually, he was a night owl, but had to adjust his sleep patterns for Beta shift and beyond. He hated sleeping at night, because he missed the best holodeck times and had to run into the most people during his day. Today was different, however. He had no choice but to bump into more people today. Forty two hours until the San Francisco Sessions, and so much to do.

“Computer, messages.”

=/\=”You have one message, from Courtney Fiona Corgan, New Orleans Earth.”=/\=

“Put it through…” He said, walking to the replicator, “Coffee, black, double strong, extra bitter, and a bagel with cream cheese.”

His food instantly appeared on the replicator tray, hot, steaming, and inviting to be eaten. He collected his food and sat on his desk, reading the message he received from his sister. The message read…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

TO: Lieutenant jg James Lionel Corgan, USS Galaxy
FROM: Courtney Fiona Corgan, CEO ‘Smashed Up Sanity Inc.”, New Orleans Earth.
RE: Permission Slip.

Get this, bro. I just got a little document from the Federation Ministry of Arts and Culture. It seems that you can get a piece of synthsheet that allows you to get out of your shifts and even call on starbase personnel to set up the show! You only have a couple of days to do this, so I suggest you use this as much as you can.

Speaking of stages, the Exodus just docked at Starbase 114, and the crew unloaded all the equipment you need for the concert. My roadies and the engineers on the base will be able to set it up, but I suggest you contact Lieutenant Jordan from the Jupiter Station. She’s developed a lot of the holostage tech, and you know how tricky that stuff can be. I suggest you set up in 15:00 hours because that’s when Lita and the rest of the band’s setting up the their stages, and that’s when the engineers will be there. Don’t worry, I got it all set up. You just show up.

By the way, your bass player’s also developed some weird and wonderful wundertech that links all the performances. In respect, you’ll still be playing alongside your bandmates, just that their performances are being broadcasted to each holodeck, thereby having the same effect of having the whole band together, so you don’t need to make holodoubles. I don’t know how she’s figured out how to synchronize all your actions, considering the speed of FTL communications is still sketchy, but she told me it’ll work just fine and fine it will.

By the way, you’re getting the biggest crowd. Congrats, dude! You’re a star now!

Keep in touch, ok? Caio!

Your loving sister

Courtney Fiona Corgan.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Computer… start message for Lieutenant Commander Rayna Lamar O’Grady,” He ordered, “Dear Ma’am, I have a grant from the Federation’s Ministry of Arts and Culture to perform a live show tomorrow at 22:00 hours. As I placed before in my memos to you, I was waiting for the grant that I talked about to borrow resources to set up the stage on holodeck 50 of Starbase 114, and also be relieved of my shift. The grant allows me to skip my shift for today in order to get the work done.

I hope you will be able to attend the concert. Good day and godspeed. The grant is also attached to this message.

End Message.”

Free from his shift today, the rest being allocated to the stage setup (and a few other things of a personal nature) all he had to do was one final message.

“Computer,” He asked politely, taking a bite from his bagel, “send the following message on the ship’s public message board…

The Lost Souls
“The San Francisco Sessions” concert
Holodeck 50, Starbase 114.
Classic rock and roll music to celebrate the release of our new album.
Be there for the experience of a lifetime.

(Must be 18 or older to attend.)

End Message.”

The first part of the day was done, but he wasn’t through yet. He still had other tasks to attend….

Morning, 9:00 hours
Starbase 114, Promenade
Location: Splendor’s Boutique.

He looked through the endless racks of gowns and dresses, boggled at the variety and not sure exactly what to pick. So many of them to choose, so he narrowed it down to Terran dresses. Then there were the colors, which he didn’t have a clue which color was fitting for an apology, and then there was the debate about how much skin it could show.

Who would have thought shopping for a dress was so hard? ~~”No choice.”~~ He thought, ~~”Apologizing to Lexa didn’t work. I’ll have to approach Rebecca in a different way… but what kind of dress? So many of them to choose. A red dress? No, to racy. What about a white one? No, that’s… wait that perfect! No… it isn’t.”~~

“Shopkeep?” James asked, finding no better word than ‘Bouquer’ or whatever the owner of a boutique was addressed by.

A short, pudgy little man with three day’s beard growth and a sweat stained shirt waddled out of the backroom, trailing a long white length of silk. The unremarkable (and even gross) man came up to him.

“You needed help, pal?” The shopkeeper spoke gruffly. He sounded like a frog really did land in his throat. The Talarian cigar he pulled out of his pocket and placed in his mouth probably didn’t help matters either.

“Yes, I am in need of an apology gift, and I don’t know what to pick out. Have anything in mind?” James asked, smothering a soft laugh about the shopkeep’s strange appearance.

“I’ll go through the basics for you…. But first a few questions. Are you gay?”

“Ummmm no, not like there’s a problem with that in this century. Why?”

“Good, you’re not gay. That’ll mean we have to go to the women’s section.”

“What?”

“You’re in the men’s section, buddy. What? You think all cultures have only dresses for women?” The short man protested, whipping out a large Scottish kilt, with plenty of room where it mattered, “Should get underwear for that. Ewww…”

“Oh, good point. Shall we move on?”

“Sure. I’m not done with the questions, so listen up. What are the girl’s measurements?”

“SAY WHAT?!?!” Truthfully, he didn’t know Rebecca Von Erst’s measurements and he didn’t want to know. It was all private stuff.

“You know, cup size, waste…”

He knew for a fact that he didn’t have such intimate information about his friend, “Whoa… back up for a second. I’m not some pervert who goes through women’s underwear, ok? I don’t know what kind of bra, or it’s size, and I sure as hell didn’t measure her waist.”

“Ahhh…” The shopkeeper stroked his three day stubble, “We have a challenge, do we? Tell you what, just make a guess at her height, weight and how thin she is, and I’ll get something really nice for yahh….. well?”

“Oh, sorry about that.” James apologized, “I think she’s only about five feet tall, weighs… I’d say only about a hundred pounds. I’m not sure about her waist, but I’d say she’s skinny, not very wide at all…”

“Hmmm… Midgiteon?”

“No, Terran.”

“Holy freezing ape crap, she’s a short little one. Funny how you say Terran. Are you a spacer?”

“Yes, why? What the hell does that have to do with it?”

“Nothing, nothing. We have to move on. Hair color?”

“Red.”

“Ohhhhhhh noooo. Nononononono… that won’t do. A red dress would work wonders for her, but that color symbolizes passion. You don’t want that in an apology, or else the short little freak would think you had a fetish for her.”

“Fetish?!?! You son of a…”

“HAH! Relax, won’t you? You’re definitely a spacer, with that dirty mouth of yours. You don’t swear like a Starfleet officer, that’s for sure, and I know, ‘cause I’ve had those suited prudes around before. What’s her eye color?”

“DAMMIT!”

He tried to recall her eyes, those little, watery, sad, puppy dog, or little pixie, eyes that he swore he never looked deep into before. Eye to eye contact was avoided as much as he could. Some things he didn’t want people to know could be seen through his eyes better than his words, and vice versa.

“Stumped again?”

“Uhhhh huh.”

“Boy, you are really just friends with her. Most people who drop that bullsh!t line answer that correctly. You can tell if you love someone if you notice their eyes, did you know that?”

“Hell no.”

“For now, just assume they’re brown. Brown’s the most numerous eye color. Can’t go wrong with that… unless you’re date met a Shekrak. The wrong dress with the wrong eye color and BAM! Murderous rage!”

“I didn’t know…”

“And lucky for you, you do know. That’s what I’m here for…” The shopkeeper fast drew out an elaborate PADD and tapped away with astonishing speed and precision. After a minute of searching his database, he came up with the answer.

“GOT IT!” He whooped, “Terran dress, an evening gown, forest green with sparkling triskbeads, and a handbag to match. Just so happens that I have one in stock. Want me to deliver it with a flower and a gift?”

James was amazed at the shopkeeper’s quick response. The complex task of picking out a gift, narrowed down in only a few seconds time by a repulsive looking man that was at the moment, lighting up his cigar. Wisps of oily, black smoke puffed out of his mouth that smelled like pit grease on fire.

“Excuse me, did you say…” James trailed.

“Flower and a gift. I suggest the Gladiolas to say ‘I’m really sincere’, with some Lily-of-the-Valley to symbolize a return to happiness… with some Paperwhite to say ‘Stay as sweet as you are.’ You follow, soldierboy?” The shopkeeper tapped the order on another PADD.

“Ummmm….” Bewildered, and confused by the avalanche of information, James blurted, “Whatever works.”

“Good. I’ll put that on the list. By the way, you got a gift lined up for her, or are you gonna leave that up to me as well? I’ve got all sorts of jewelry…”

“NO! That’s fine. I have some front row tickets for the concert tomorrow that I’m going to give her. I’m the musician for the night, after all.”

“You don’t say! Good for you, mister. Nothing says ‘primal sex appeal’ quite like a rockstar. That’ll be 225 credits, and I’ll throw in the delivery and an ‘i’m sorry’ card for free. Deal?”

“You strike up a hard bargain, but it’s a deal.” James laughed, shaking the hand of the repulsive shopkeeper, then adding, “Oh, and I’d like the same thing for another friend of mine.”

“You know the drill.”

“Ok, she’s six feet tall, weights approximately 135 pounds, she’s black haired, curly if you really want to know, and she has brown eyes… don’t know the bust size but let’s say a C cup… brown eyes… and make it RED!”

“Dear god, man!” The shopkeeper dropped the cigar in his mouth, eyes widened in surprise, “You trying to do the humpty dance with a Naussican?”

“NO! How dare you… awww, just use your best judgement, but make it black. And no gift, because I gave her a ticket already.”

“Alright then, that’s five hundred credits. I’ll send you the bill, and I’ll even deliver the goods myself.”

James shuttered when he though of the unremarkable, ugly (if wise!) little man, a stream of floating black smoke behind him, walking up to Electra whom was at least a foot taller than him, and in his croaky voice saying “Special delivery.” There was something about that scene that was… ‘unpicturesque’.

“Thanks… I think,” James said, “And it saves me time to get my tattoo repaired and…”

“Wait a second? You got a tattoo! I do that for a living as well! I even got a tattoo of a poodle on my ass! Wanna see it?”

The shopkeeper never ceased to amaze Corgan. He wondered how many other tasks he took care of on the ship. Boutique owner, tailor, flower specialist and now a tattoo artist. One question came to mind.

“What don’t you do?” James asked.

“I don’t do lunch. Hurry in the back, I’ll have you prepped and ready. Just to be fair, I might as well tell you I use KLINGON methods.” The shopkeeper rasped, taking out his cigar and coughing.

“Say what?”

Before the Lieutenant could fully protest, the short shopkeeper hustled him into the back room and laid him down on a cold table. The little guy had surprising strength, and topped by the speed of events, James couldn’t put up much resistance. ~~”Figures that I’d run into a jack of all trades…”~ he complained, looking at his newly healed shoulder, and dreading what brutal techniques the Klingons developed for tattooing. He was justified in his worries, because a sharp, spiked, wicked looking device that looked like a ceremonial dagger laid across a dozen pots of boiling ink.

~”Awwww… frag!”~

Afternoon, 18:00 Hours
Location: Holodeck 50 (short)

The holodecks were easy work. Working with an aching shoulder, that was hard.

Cursing bitterly over his new ‘fallen angel’ tattoo that still burned like hellfire, he set up another holoprojector and re-calibrated its settings. On live feeds from all his band members, there were vidscreens directing the whole process. Lieutenant Lita Jordan, holotechnologist extraordinaire, bass player for The Lost Souls and researcher on the Jupiter 7 space station, lead the efforts. Her patented FTL transmissions of holographic image

s were nothing short of amazing. Instantaneous due to synchronization of each location, it was the realism of a real concert, with all the participants, except with five locations at a time!

The engineers didn’t like it the least bit. The proper equipment to make a holostage independent of the holodeck’s main systems, or a ‘holodeck within a holodeck’ became the source of much great swearing and ridicule. ~”Don’t matter”~ He thought, ~”Cause these peons are helping the roadies set it up and that’s that.”~

“YO! Corgan! Got the re-calibration stats for your stage?” Lieutenant Jordan demanded.

“Yeah, yeah. I got your stats right here…. Sending them now, babe.” James confirmed. He pressed the send button on his PADD. A moment later, Lita cracked a wonderful smile.

“Thanks, hotstuff! It looks like… everything’s running fine on your part James. Working your guitar into the system will be easy, just plug it into the large amp and go. Hikari! What the hell’s going on with your synths? I’m getting energy fluctuations every time you engage your instruments.”

Another vidscreen popped up, showing the agitated face of a Bolian hovering over his ‘crow’s nest’, the affectionate name of the small tower that housed the synthesized sound equipment. As opposed to Lita and James’ fake flirting, Hikari Jo-Hann and Lita argued… for real.

“Cool your jets, catwoman! My equipment’s got the most power drain on the system, that’s why. I suggest you get an extra holoprojector to handle the extra strain, or else you’re gonna lose picture and sound quality.” He argued.

“Hey, my calculations do go wrong, got it bud?” She argued back in her thick, ‘Qu’appelle Valley’ accent, “The holoprojectors should be able to handle your equipment.”

“Should,” Jo’hann interrupted, “Emphasis on the should.”

“I believe you all are acting in an illogical manner.” Ensign Sotek cut in her typical Vulcan fashion, “It would be more prudent to put in the extra holoprojector. I predict a holographic distortion variance of up to point zero zero eight unless otherwise.”

“You heard the lady. Extra holoprojectors for section five of the stage.” James ordered, “And thanks, Sotek. Without you, they would be arguing forever. Heh heh heh…”

“HEY!” Both Lita and Hikari griped.

“You must admit, they do argue in a fashion similar to a mating couple in Pon’Farr.” Sotek wisecracked.

“What? You have the Vulcan on us too?” Jordan complained.

“Gotta love a Vulcan’s dry sense of humor, don’t you?” Drummer Chad Freeman laughed, “I gotta go. My part is set up. I’ll leave the diagnostics open to you, Lita. Are you done with me?”

“Sure, I’m done with you… and no more jokes about me and Hikari!” Lita demanded once more. The image of Chad Freeman tapping his cymbals escaped the holodeck, leaving Sotek, Corgan, Jo’Hann and Jordan in their own private circle.

“I did not realize that I was… joking.” Sotek flatly stated.

“Hey,” Lita spoke, “James, Sotek, you can go too. All of your systems are online and ready to go. Diagnostics is complete on your side. All I have to do is put up with Hikari…”

“I resent that.” The Bolian chuckled while installing a keyboard.

“Good, blue man. Sit tight, Hikari… ahhh! Gerald’s done setting up his equipment. Easy really. He picked out a quiet room at the monitor station and set up a holoprojector. The base doesn’t need that big of a stage and it saves me a lot of grief.”

“Probably does that base good. I bet they haven’t had entertainment like that in years. I’ll see you later, Corgan.”

“You guys take care, ok?” James warned them, “I know what happens when you two get in an argument.”

“They copulate like Tribbles.” Sotek blurted, sending the dirty looks of almost everyone except James her way, “It’s the truth. It would be illogical to lie. I must leave as well. Live long and prosper…”

*Blip* and the Vulcan woman’s image disappeared. Lita and Hikari stammered in stunned disbelief.

“How’d she know?” Lieutenant Jordan asked.

“Everyone knows, you guys. Gotta fly!” James said. His finger hovered over the disconnect button, before a bright idea came to mind, “Oh, and just out of curiousity, can this technology be used to have long distance relationships, so to speak?”

“Yeah, why? … HEY! You dirty… you didn’t think… me and him…”

“It’s ok, enjoy yourselves. See you all later!” And before Lieutenant Jordan and Ensign Jo’Hann were able to voice their opinion, James disconnected the communication.

It was like old times again. One of the few times he could cut loose, joke, laugh, have fun and be normal was with the band. It was liberating, almost half as freeing as being on stage and performing himself.

He looked forward to tomorrow.

22:00 hours
Location: Quarters

Exhaused, James collapsed on his leather desk chair, sinking into the soft Corinthian leather and sighing in relief. Toting holoprojectors and setting them up all day taxed his limited knowledge on holotechnology, and gave him a bit of a brush up on his engineering skills. His day was far more productive than he could have ever predicted.

He pecked at his plate of Ravioli, while reading the daily messages. Only one showed up on the screen, from somebody he bumped into yesterday. One of Electra Reece’s relatives. ~”What brings them to message me?”~ He was curious to find out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear Mr. Corgan,

It was a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry that my husband and I will be unable to attend your concert, but the Ransom has been called out on a mission. I hope everything goes well. We look forward to seeing you again. Give my granddaughter a hug and kiss for us when you see her. Have a safe journey through the stars.

Yours,

Amanda Coleman

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Wait a second… what are they implying?” He asked.

~~”Snappy answer to a stupid question, broken head.”~~ He heard his conscience butt in, ~~”And it sounds like they are seeing you see red. Catch my drift?”~~

~”Huh?”~

~~”Oh, go figure you bleeping censor bleep bleep. Red dress? HELLO? RED FREAKING DRESS!!!!”~~

~”What does a red dress have to do with…”~ And then it dawned on him. The ugly little shopkeeper told him that red was the color of love and passion. His heart sank way below his knees and an ill feeling was felt in his gut. He subconciously made a pass at Electra Reece without even thinking about it!

~”You sneaky little bastard… how can that even be possible?”~

~~”Hey, I told you so…”~~

"In One Piece"
by Lieutenants Eric Odin and Faustine Margolis

Eric had not seen Fox since about the middle of the last mission. He called out, "Computer, locate Faustine Margolis."

The computer responded, [Lieutenant Margolis is in shuttle bay one.]

Eric wondered what she was doing there and figured she might be leaving, so he moved quickly to the shuttle bay. He would be leaving soon as well and at least wanted to say goodbye for a short while. He arrived and called out, "Fox, hey Fox."

Thinking she had heard her name being called, Fox stopped packing the shuttle. She exited the craft and looked toward Sam and Commander Peterson. They were deep in discussion; it could not be either one of them.

So Fox scoped around the rest of the bay and saw the culprit. "Eric! What are you doing here? Isn’t it time for you to take a vacation, or what they call a vacation around here," she called out as she walked over to him.

Eric smiled and said, "Yes. I just wanted to see how you were doing. The computer said you were here, and I thought maybe you were on your way out. Looks like I was right. I’m on my way to Bajor myself in a few."

"Bajor. Oh, why’s that?" Fox asked.

"To visit a friend. She and I have had some kind of past. We died together about three missions back. That kind of bound us in ways that made us really good friends. I figure it’s a good time to visit her since I almost died a few times on the last mission."

"Oh, that is so sweet you have kept in contact with her." She smiled sheepishly. "I guess you could say that I am doing the same thing in a way."

"Where are you going?" he asked with a quizzical look. He would tell her the rest when it came to that.

"Um," Fox mumbled, gnashing her upper teeth into her lower lip, "that’s a good question. I really don’t know."

He laughed and said, "Well good luck in that." He hugged her and said, "Just come back in one piece, alright?"

"Oh, I’ll come back in one piece...whether Samthia will is another question entirely," she replied, giving Sam a sideways glance.

"Well, I hope both of you do then. We should get together after you do. I hope we’ll have time to get together?" he asked with a smile.

"Well, if the Borg aren’t trying to assimilate us, we just might have the time."

He laughed and said, "Thanks. I believe we will have that time. Well, I’ll be seeing you after we’re both back. Good luck again."

"I hope so. Enjoy your trip," Fox called back as she headed toward the shuttle.

Eric smiled at her and went off for his own trip.

Lieutenant Eric Odin
Engineering Officer
USS Galaxy

Lieutenant Faustine Margolis
Operations Officer
USS Galaxy

"Desire and Terror"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

Lexa smiled at James Corgan as they danced under the stage lights. He held her close and spun her in dizzying circles. She laughed and held onto his shoulders. "Oh, James this is so wonderful." He grinned at her as he twirled her in a waltz. "I love you James. I wish we didn't ever have to leave here." He dipped her backwards and leaned over her, his head coming closer, her lips parting, his lips parting. Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa saw a flash of red.

James turned his head and moved his arms, smiling at the new arrival. Electra, overbalanced, landed hard on her bottom, bruising her elbows as she fell backwards. She watched as James walked up to the girl standing there. The pixyish redhead smiled at him as she pulled him away from Lexa. James whispered, "Rebecca, darling."

The couple moved further away as Lexa struggled to her feet. "James ... come back ... please ... I love you."

Before he disappeared from the stage, James and Rebecca laughed mockingly. "Why would he want a giant freak like you when he could have me?" James nodded. "At least I don't have to look up to see Rebecca, you abnormal freak." The pair embraced and began making out heavily as fog swirled across the stage, obscuring their writhing figures.

Electra sobbed and felt a light touch on her neck. "I told you I was the only one who could love you, Lexa, love. Everyone else knows how repulsive you are, but I don't care. Everyone knows you are mine. Mine. Mine." Lexa tried to run to escape the Poet's insidious voice but couldn't move as he caressed her. "You were so bad, dancing with Corgan. We can't have that." And he raised a hand from her body and brought it, fisted, towards her face.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Lexa sat up in bed, crying. She looked wildly around, recognizing her quarters. She had been plagued many nights by these nightmares featuring Poet, but James' appearance was new. Usually she relived her captivity in the escape pod. This time had been very different. She slumped back on the bed and rolled over, hugging her pillow, wishing the terrors would go away as she slowly drifted back into slumber.

"Concerted Effort"
By Lieutenant jg Electra Reece
Assistant Chief of Operations

Lexa sat at her desk working on OPS reports. She was determined to keep her mind off of everything but work. Her grandparents were gone, Corgan was too busy for her (not to mention taken), and Poet was on his way to a penal colony. She focused on her reports, wishing thoughts of Corgan and her dream would stop floating through her mind.

She was just putting the finishing touches on the daily OPS scheduling report when there was a comm. hail for her.

=^= Lieutenant' Reece, you have a delivery at the airlock on Deck 10. Please come and pick it up immediately. =^=

Electra frowned. "Acknowledged. I'm on my way." ~ Did my grandparents leave me something before the Ransom left? ~

When she got back with the large box, rectangular box and a smaller, though longer rectangular box, she frowned. ~ Who could these be from? ~

She opened the longer box and took out the flowers. They were beautiful, bright gladiolas and more subdued Lily of the Valleys. She replicated a faux crystal vase and filled it with the water and the flowers. Placing them on the nightstand by her bed, she opened up the card:

I'm sorry for being a jerk. Please forgive me. James.

She bit her lip. ~ How sweet. Maybe ... oh, how sweet. ~

She opened the other box and gazed in shock at the black, slinky dress held therein. She took it out and held it up to herself with care. ~ It's beautiful. But ... do I have the guts to wear it? What did he mean by sending me this. Does he ... want me? Me, not Rebecca? I have to know. I have to know. ~

*********************Hours Later, Holodeck 50, Starbase 114***************

Lexa strode into the holodeck having shown her ticket to the ... she thought the term was bouncer, though that made little sense to her since he was much too large to bounce at all. She tried to keep her head up and her shoulders back, ignoring the stares that followed her. The stares were from men, men of all races, all ages. They couldn't help following her figure with their eyes. Their eyes were caught by the shimmering blackness of the fabric that made her dress and once caught, they saw the body in the dress. What they saw was an amazingly tall woman with a full, lush figure hugged by the bodice of the dress, the tops of her creamy breasts pushed up by the bra in the dress, the view unimpeded by sleeves or straps to the dress. As they tore their eyes from those eye-catching features, they saw the beginning of legs that seemed to go on to infinity, long, slim, white legs that they imagined wrapped around their waists. The skirt of the dress stopped mid-thigh. The legs were accented by the six inch black spiked heels with straps that wrapped around her ankles and fastened halfway up her calves (which Lexa had forced herself to wear and which she was convinced would cause her to break her neck). Her long, black, naturally wavy hair was for once, left loose to hang down her back, nearly to her bottom. Her face was made up, as well. Her eyes were outlined lightly in blue, her cheeks a light rose, and her lips, a bright red. She had taken advice on the make-up from a friend from the Academy about how to attract a man.

Lexa was terrified and embarrassed but hopeful. James had sent this to her. He must have wanted her to wear it, so she did, hoping that she wasn't making a complete fool of herself. She made her way slowly and carefully to the front row, center and sat, waiting for the concert to begin as others filled in around her.

=/\= "Inspired" =/\=
by Lt jg Gary Trabuco
Security, USS Galaxy

*** Transporter Room 1, USS Galaxy ***

Transporter operator Rutherford dragged his finger along the yellow bar on his control panel. Across the room, the recently repaired pad glowed while energy coalesced into a humanoid form. A moment later, Gary Trabuco, Starfleet junior grade lieutenant, stood on the fading circle holding his duffel bag.

Gary stepped down to the deck. "Hey there, crewman! Is Chief Jensen still around?" he asked with a broad smile on his face. He had, for the time being, decided to make the most of his return to front line duty.

The young man nodded dully. "Yessir. The chief is on leave, though, now that his babies are all working again," he replied with a thick 'old Georgia gentleman' accent.

Trabuco wasn't sure what the enlisted man meant by the chief's 'babies', but he decided to just ask Jensen about it when he returned. He snapped off a cheerful salute and headed out into the corridor.

***

The Galaxy's corridors seemed to come in two flavors: freshly repaired, and not-yet repaired. Gary whistled to himself as he passed through a particularly nasty stretch of hall near his new quarters. He imagined a dozen Borg tearing up the place looking for victims. Then he imagined them finding the victims, and that didn't warrant further imagining. He quickly put the thought out of his head and continued to his own door.

***

His quarters were in perfect shape, he noticed happily. And empty of roommates, too. There were two bunks, though. It was possible that a roommate was assigned with him, but they hadn't moved in yet as far as he could tell.

He tossed his royal blue duffel, embroidered with the legend "Starfleet HQ Security" on the bunk in the corner farthest from the head. He slapped his palms together and said, "There's no place like home!"

And he suddenly realized that he really did feel that way. He had missed the Galaxy and her crew. It suddenly seemed like his time on Earth - both his medical recovery and then his subsequent tour at SFHQ - essentially was like putting his life on hold.

He stepped toward the outer hull, and looked up through the viewport at the interior of StarBase 114. Gracefully-constructed Starships and mammoth space construction was all he could see. It was exhilarating and he felt his heartbeat accelerate. Then he realized he could see more: people, tiny at this distance, walked about through the catwalks and viewing lounges that peppered the inside surface of the Starbase. They wore red, green, blue, yellow and black uniforms. These people he saw, he concluded, all thirsted for this great adventure - to explore the stars!

He didn't stop to think how he would feel the next time he faced a Jem'Hadar warrior...

"Mental Overload"
Lt. jg Savanna Worthington

Headaches.....they can change a person's demeanor. Ever since her run in with the Chief of Engineering, Savanna had been experiencing very painful bouts of gut wrenching mental strife. They had changed her demeanor most defiantly. It wasn't for the better either. Gone were the days of the mild mannered security officer. That woman was replaced by a less forgiving female. All business all the time.

Yes, Suder still had an effect on her, when she permitted herself to think about him. She however, had been not intentionally avoiding him, it just appeared to be that way. Between working all she could and overtaxing her brain in security training, Savanna was slowly turning into someone she herself did not even recognize.

Did it scare her, this new person? No, suprisingly it did not. She was aware that everyone changed, grew, and benefited from their experiences on this ship. In fact, O'Hare stated herself one time recently that she was not the person she was when she first was posted on the ship. To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. This, Savanna deducted, was her time to change. She felt it, and she willingly did nothing to stop it. Who was to care? Ethan? Not likely. Maybe he did, but as it was stated earlier, she had been avoiding him like the Terran Black Plague.

In reality, all security officers hardened a bit. There was a phrase...."Drying the wood." Most people, when just onboard for a short time, were called green. Wood has this property, before it withstands the elements. Security officers, very green, through no will of their own, go through their own "greening" period. Yes, first onboard the galaxy is a wonderful place. Normal duty, phaser refitting, joking around the office, then.........the wood dries. Something happens. It doesn't have to be horrible, or traumatic. Just something out of the ordinary that calls for security skills above the realm of the normal duty shift. BAMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!! And, so it goes. The drying of the wood takes place and true life takes hold and shakes you to your core.

This went against all that Savanna wanted. She knew, at least somewhere in her knew, that she would age someday. As a security major, you heard about it. You were taught to experience it. You were told to believe it would happen to you.

Glancing in her mirror, Savanna knew the time was at hand. Dark circles outlined her doe like eyes. Little lines that were not visible before, made themselves know. Yes, it was happening and Savanna didn't have the will or strength to fight it.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she decided to call it a night. All she wanted at this time was to be left alone. Silence was welcome....however, it was far from here. A slight ding informed her she had a message waiting.

Walking over to the console, she drew up the message and read it. With all else going on, this seemed so trivial. She had to chuckle at its contents. It was one of many recently.....all to do with her past. Her past was haunting her violently lately....and all she could do was............nothing..............

"Take two pips and Call me in the Morning"

Starring

Lt. (j/g) Rebecca von Ernst
Admiral Jergan Hoth (NPC)

with Un-authorized appearances by a whole bunch of people

(USS Galaxy-Docked Starbase 114)

Simply put, the GALAXY was a mess. She'd only arrived in Space Dock a few weeks before, and already a full refit was underway.

It was not typical to undertake such massive projects so quickly, especially where such widespread damage was concerned, but in the Post-Dominion War Era, Starfleet was still woefully short of capable Starships, especially the Large Capital Ships such as the Galaxy.

Danger still lurked out in the Universe, and so where the large vessel would have normally sat untouched for months on end waiting for the Red-Tape to clear prior to refit, instead a round the clock effort was already in full swing.

Transporter Nets were down all over the ship, the result of widespread damage caused by recent encounters with the Borg, and thus the haggard operators of Transporter Room 3 were the only functional entry point for the numerous repair teams that were shuffling back and forth from the Starbase.

Transporter Chief Logan Kalhoun wiped the sweat from his brow and reset his LCARS display for yet another material transfer.

"Galaxy to Starbase 114, the pad is clear and we're ready for the next load."

=/\=ACKNOWLEDGED GALAXY, GIVE US A SECOND TO POSITION THE PALETTS. WE'VE GOT A BIT OF A TRAFFIC JAM DOWN HERE.=/\=

Kalhoun eyed the teetering piles of engineering equipment and diagnostic tools collecting in his own foyer, and smiled grimly. "I know exactly what you're saying 114. Galaxy Standing by."

Using the brief intermission to run a brief recalibration of the unit, Kalhoun grunted contentedly to see that everything was in the green. Transporter #3 had been in continuous operation for almost 6 hours now, and he was more than a little worried about the buffers getting a bit out of calibration.

=/\= 114 TO GALAXY. EQUIPMENT PALETTE IN PLACE. READY TO TRANPORT.=/\=

"Energizing" Kalhoun replied, sliding his fingers up the three vertical display lights. The crowded room was briefly lit by the sparking arrival of yet another nondescript equipment package, that was quickly hustled off the transport pad and tagged for distribution by some burly Engineering Ensigns that had been drafted for just this duty.

"Package received 114." The Chief reported clearing his board for the hundredth time today. "Yall got anything down there to send us other than big ugly boxes?"

There was a short crackling chuckle over the Comm-circuit. =/\=NEGATIVE ON THAT GALAXY…WE'VE GOT THE WHOLE STATION COLLECTING THEIR DIRTY LAUNDRY TO SEND OVER FOR YALL TO TAKE CARE OF.=/\=

"Cute." Kalhoun smirked.

=/\=REMEMBER NOT TOO MUCH STARCH IN MINE THIS TIME……OH WAIT…..STANDBY GALAXY.=/\=

The Chief waited patiently for 114 to sort out things on its end again, stifling a yawn as a gaggle of Crewmen stopped by the Transporter room to clear away a few of the Equipment palettes. ~~~Dirty Laundry, indeed.~~~ thought the weary Kalhoun.

=/\=UH GALAXY…114 HERE. WE'VE GOT AN UNSCEDULED PERSONNEL TRANSPORT FOR YOU. STANDBY TO RECEIVE ONE TO BEAM UP.=/\=

"Copy that. Recalibrating now." Kalhoun replied cursing in the back of his head as he was forced to reset the controls back to the Quantum Level Resolution required for transporting lifeforms. Up to now he had been conserving power and time by using the simpler Molecular Level Resolution that was adequate for equipment and other inert materials. ~~~Some Damn Repairman was late for Duty and now wants to hitch a ride between transports….typical.~~~

Sliding his fingers up the LCARS display, Kalhoun watched as the solitary figure of a humanoid lifeform began to resolve in the shower of blue particles. He was stifling yet another yawn when the form of a grim-faced middle-aged Human in Starfleet Uniform was finally recognizeable.

~~~Make that some old-fart technician who is……WHAT THE?~~~ Kalhoun's eyes flicked to the brilliantly polished rank-insignia at the grey-haired man's collar.

"Attention on Deck!" he blurted stiffening into attention, "Admiral on DECK!"

Blinking the crowd of Galaxy Engineers straightened form their laborious job of sorting out equipment packages and scrambled into a semblance of order.

"At ease." Admiral Jergan Hoth, Director of Starfleets new 359 Advanced Tactical School, ordered crisply as he stepped off the pad carefully to avoid tripping on the scattered palettes. Noting the startled looking onlookers, he singled out the Chief and made his way over to the Control unit. "Report if you please Chief."

"Transporter Chief Logan Kalhoun reporting Admiral." The man gulped. "Our apologies Admiral, but we were given no warning of your visit."

"Starfleet frequently calls upon its officers to adjust rapidly to unexpected situations does it not Kalhoun." Hoth asked mildly his eyes studying the weary Chief intently. "Tactical Surprise for example, is the essence of quick victory. The question is how you adapt to said circumstances. What would have happened if I had been a team of Breen Commandos instead? What would you have done then? "

"Sir?" Kalhoun furrowed his brows, "I don’t think…..I…"

"Exactly." Hoth interrupted with a sigh, "You would have hesitated and died where you stood. That’s what's wrong with the fleet today. Nobody knows how to fight. Nobody has the killer instinct, or the gumption to do what's necessary to get the job done."

The Admiral let his eyes roam over the piles of equipment with contempt. "Such a waste." He grumped. "By God if my girl had been in charge none of this would have been necessary. None of it I tell you."

"Aye sir. Yes sir." Everybody in the room agreed quickly, none of them having the slightest notion of who he was talking about.

"S…Should I notify the Captain you're aboard Admiral? He and Commander Thomas are still about directing repairs." Kalhoun ventured.

Hoth ran a hand through his close-cut grey hair and sighed. "Yes Chief, I suppose that would be proper procedure, although I had hoped to keep my visit as low key as possible. In the meantime I have a few errands to attend to."

"Aye sir, should I send for an escort to……" Kalhoun began again before a wilting glare from Hoth froze the words in his mouth. Though the stocky Flag Officer was polite and soft-spoken, Logan sensed he was one of those individuals with whom it was not wise to screw around with. "Ahh….nevermind sir. My mistake."

"Quite right Chief." Hoth stated cooly, and then addressed the air. "Computer please state location Lieutenant (j/g) Rebecca von Ernst.

=/\=LIEUTENANT JUNIOR GRADE REBECCA VON ERNST IS PRESENTLY IN THE TACTICAL PLANNING OFFICE. DECK 11=/\=

Nodding towards the assembled workers, the stern faced Admiral stepped purposefully out of the Transporter room, while behind him Chief Kalhoun quickly routed a call to Captain Price letting him know his precious Starship had just been invaded by a member of Starfleet's Bureaucratic jungle.

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

Confusion reigned in the Tactical Planning Facilities on Deck 11 of the Galaxy. The Starship was in its final days of refit, and the entire crew was under pressure to ready her for sail. Tactical was no exception, as Red-Collared crewmen clustered around various pieces of equipment and strategic displays struggling to get everything back together on time.

The Galaxy's Tactical Systems had undergone more radical changes in recent weeks than any other Department. First outfitted with the vastly complex Ablative Armor, and Multiphasic Torpedo systems, and now stripped of those very same systems, it was easy to see why the beleaguered crewmembers didn't know if they were coming or going.

Frayed optical cable hung from every terminal, and weary programmers attempted to explain to the Main Computer for the umpteenth time that -yes, there were Shields installed despite what the computer thought.

--INTERNAL ERROR 404-DRIVE NOT FOUND-SYSTEM NOT RECOGNIZED--

A programmer sighed frustratedly and gestured towards a nearby piece of equipment. "It's two stinking meters to your left you dumb machine! What do you mean you cant find it!?!

The Departmental hierarchy was just as confused as the Tactical Computers.

In the past few weeks there had been no less than THREE separate Department Heads, and the confusion resulting from this fact was apparent in the crew's morale. From steady Tim Richeson to skittish von Ernst and now to newcomer James Kincaid, it was no wonder confusion reigned.

Rebecca herself was hunched over one of the many quirky LCARS displays debugging a new Torpedo Guidance sub-routine. Computer programming was not really her forte, but the complex trajectory equations involved were her specialty.

She had spent nearly all of the Galaxy's layover period aboard ship, not even going ashore to Starbase 114 except during a brief routine Baryon Sweep during which the entire ship had to be abandoned.

The solitude had given her some time to sort out some problems. The ability to immerse herself in the considerable work load had actually relieved a bit of the pent up stress and frustration that she had accumulated during the last mission. Things were a bit tense with James Corgan, and Electra, but she figured ignoring them was the best policy.

As far as Surok's death went, Rebecca was surprised to discover how quickly the feeling of loss faded. At first she worried over the possibility that she was an evil uncaring person, but slowly come to the realization that perhaps she didn’t feel for the Vulcan in quite the way she suspected. There was more to this 'love' thing than she knew.

Her own position in Tactical was precarious at best. Following the incidents during the recent mission with the Borg, the ship's XO Commander Thomas had made the little redhead his 'pet-project'. Mandatory Counseling sessions and intense procedural drills had eaten up the majority of her meager shore-leave allotment. Not that she really minded, Rebecca had been in mandatory counseling since her sophomore year at the Academy.

Rebecca scrunched her freckled nose, and was subtly tweaking the guidance parameters when a sudden shout caused her to jump.

"ATTENTION! Admiral on Deck!"

Gulping in surprise, Rebecca whirled and jumped to her feet along with the rest of the over-taxed department, flicking a quick glance towards the door to see the new arrival.

~~~Oh noodles, not HIM.~~~ her heart sank as she recognized Jergan Hoth, the one man that had made her life since the Academy a living hell.

The Admiral's compact form neatly framed the dimly lit doorway, his piercing gaze roving up and down the scatt

ered lines of nervous officers, some of them sweating perceptibly.

Flag officers were a dime a dozen in Starfleet, but for those in the Fleet who chose Tactical as a career calling, the name of Hoth bore a special significance. As Founder and head of Starfleet's new 359-Advanced Tactical School set in the midst of the Wolf Starship graveyard, Jergan Hoth was the Alpha and Omega of the modern fleets combat arm.

In an era of heightened sensibilities and a greater focus on the Exploration and Diplomatic side of Starfleet, the grim faced, grey-haired old man was something of an iconoclast. Rising to prominence in the Late 2350's as Captain of one of Starfleets most powerful ships of the era, (The Ambassador class), Jergan Hoth quickly gained an reputation as being the man to call on when a dirty little job needed to be undertaken. Most Captains were too worried about sullying their pristine high-brow standings, but the brutish little Hoth attacked these 'undesirable' assignments with relish.

It paid off. The tough little man from Germany was now the end-all be-all of Starfleet's Tactical forces. His reputation for rigidly demanding unwavering obedience and perfection was famous throughout the Fleet, as was his knack of getting exactly what he wanted.

For the haggard Tac-crewmen, his arrival here in the midst of the Tactical Department's cluttered chaos was akin to being caught scribbling on the church wall by the Pope himself.

However, to the relief and surprise of all present, the Admiral's notorious temper was not in evidence.

"At ease everyone," the grey haired man ordered with a nod of the head, "This isn't a formal inspection, and I don't want to keep this ship off the front lines longer than necessary." His eyes flashed across the room, "Lord knows she's spent more than her share of time in the Dry Dock as of late."

A few of the crew glanced nervously at each other. The implied insult to Captain Price's handling of the ship was not subtle.

"Crew," he began, "These are dangerous times for the Federation. In times like these when war threatens on every front, and strategic reserves are al but drained, it falls hard upon YOU…the men and women of the Active Duty Tactical Forces to bear the burden. Ambassadors and Admirals may make policy…..Captains and XO's may give orders…..but ultimately it it YOU and YOUR skill that stands between the Federation and those that seek to Destroy it. Your hands on the Torpedo Launchers, and your skills at the Phaser Controls determine the destiny of the galaxy. For that……I am eternally grateful, and want to express a token of my appreciation…….."

"Von Ernst front and center!" Hoth commanded. His voice was calm and low, but there was an underlying hint of iron beneath the velvet glove. The implication was--I'll as you nicely once…..but once is all I'll give you.--

Rebecca shrank in on herself as all eyes in the room clicked over to her. A thousand random phobias ran through her addled mind, covering everything from fear of crowds and public speaking, to wondering if her hair was in place behind her ever-present white headband.

Timidly, and quite aware of the palpable silence in the room, the slim girl made her way slowly towards the waiting Admiral. Her boot heels clicked softly on the bare floor, that had not yet been re-carpeted after the Borg incident.

~~Noodles~~ she thought, attempting to walk quieter, but failing miserably.

"L..l…l…lieutenant junior grade Rebecca von Ernst reporting sir." She quavered as she came to a trembling attention before Hoth.

A slight smile crossed the normally stern face of CINCTAC (Commander in Chief, Tactical), and his dark eyes almost twinkled.

"At ease Lieutenant." He said formally before adding a personnel, "It's good to see you again Rebecca."

"A…a…aye sir." She answered unsure of the proper response. It had been only a few months since their last meeting following the Delicia mission.

"Indeed lass you're looking fit and trim." The Admiral noted with a critical eye. "Have you lost some weight?"

Blushing, and very much aware of the rest of the Department watching and listening, Rebecca shrugged nervously. "I…I suppose sir. Lt. Sanchez in Security has us on a vigorous PT program."

Nodding with a hrumph, Hoth pondered that bit of info for a second before turning to address the Department as a whole. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I wont keep you any longer, but I want to do this in recognition of the special talent you have here amongst you."

Extracting a small box from his hip pocket, the Admiral held it up and announced. "By order of Starfleet Command, I hereby bestow upon Rebecca von Ernst of the USS Galaxy the rank of Full Lieutenant, with all the rights and responsibilities thereof." As he opened the box containing the two shiny pips before Rebecca's widening eyes, he added. "Aboard less than 6 months and already Chief of the Tactical Department! You men and women present take note, this young lady is the future of Starfleet."

To say that there was an awkward silence would have been an understatement.

Alone at the head of the room with Hoth, tiny Rebecca was very much aware of the intense stares of everyone present, most especially James Kincaid and Jessie Parry. In the aftermath of the Borg mission the pair had been serving as interim CTO and ACTO, and doing quite a fair job at it. Rebecca had thankfully shrunken back into the background, until this unexpected visit by Hoth had thrust her to the forefront again.

An Admiral singling out a measly Lt (j/g) for promotion? Now what did THAT look like? This was sure to not gain her any friends in Tactical.

Together at the back of the room, Kincaid and Parry didn’t look pleased.

"AHEM!" the sudden clearing of a throat in the doorway caught everyone by surprise, as they turned to see who……..

"C…c…captain!?" Rebecca blurted, quickly noting the seething rage burning just below the surface of Captain Price's cool demeanor. He had arrived unnoticed just as Hoth had made his little presentation, and had not missed the sudden upset of his Ship's internal Politics.

Price was too shrewd a diplomat however to let this show, and instead greeted the grey-haired Admiral with a wide (if faked) smile.

"Admiral Hoth," he said extending his arm for a handshake. "What an unexpected…….pleasure mate. I'm sorry but I must have missed the note announcing the fact you would be visiting us today."

Taking Price's hand gruffly, the stern look returned to the Admiral's eyes. "Price." He greeted simply. "Sorry to intrude, but I didn’t want to make a big fuss over things. I merely wanted to deliver the good news personally."

The Captain narrowed his eyes somewhat but kept the grin plastered on his face. "Yes, I can see that." He said. "Quite an…..unusual duty for a man of your responsibilities sir. I'd have thought you'd be busy getting your School ready for its first class."

Hoth shrugged slightly, "von Ernst and I go way back Captain. Allow an old man a little leeway in handing out what trinkets I may."

"Yes, yes." Price nodded ," Actually Admiral I wanted to talk to you about just that very thing…..would you do me the honor of joining me in my Ready room for a quiet chat if you could?" The smile remained on his face, but the look in Price's eyes made the invitation non-negotiable.

Hoth met the glare, before sighing and nodding. "Indeed Captain I'd be honored." Clapping Rebecca heavily on her thin shoulder he added "Congratulations Lieutenant. As always, I'll be watching your career with great interest."

The Admiral strode out, and for a brief second Price locked his furious gaze on little Rebecca, wilting her even further. Spitting out an acid "Carry-on Mates" to the crew, he followed Hoth out, leaving Rebecca very alone, and very self-conscious of her new status as "Admiral's Pet"

……………………

The argument didn’t wait until the Ready room.

"Blast it Admiral, with all due respect this is totally irregular……" Price began in the corridor.

"By all means, speak freely Captain." Hoth replied wearily.

Price glared, "Admiral. You know as well as I the sanctity of a Starship Captain's right to run his own Senior Staff is inviolate. What the bloody hell did I just see back there?"

"A simple Promotion." Hoth replied mildly, turning to stroll down the corridor. The Deck plating was still bare in many spots, and optic cable sprang form many Control junctions. "Just a simple little ceremony to reward good service, and buck up the troops."

Price rolled his eyes, not buying that for a moment. " You just appointed a very troubled young girl to the post of CTO ahead of some very capable officers……I had not yet decided on who was to run Tactical aboard my Ship Admiral. Von Ernst has her special qualities, but to be honest, Lt (j/g) James Kincaid was front runner for the position until your little ceremony effectively tied my hands!"

"Look Captain," Hoth stopped short and put his finger in Price's face, "Maybe you have not noticed lately, but Starfleet is in the worst shape of its existence. Fleet strength is down nearly 60%, Reserve status is practically non-existent, and what few Starships we do have left after the Dominion War are primarily Explorer and Science vessels. If the Klingons or the Romulans, or anybody started getting itchy fingers now, there would be nothing we could do to stop them."

Price said nothing, but clearly didn’t see what the connection between that and messing with his crew was about.

Hoth sighed and changed his tone, "Robert, I know this was sneaky and underhanded, but the #1 thing we are missing in Starfleet now are Qualified, Competent, Command officers. We lost over 800 Starships and more than half a million officers during the Dominion war. Hell, your last mission alone saw us loose 4 more Starships and over 2000 dead. Robert, Starfleet is bleeding to death. The average officer in the fleet is now a mere 22 years of age. All the experienced crews are dead. All we have left are a bunch of old Admirals like myself, and a gaggle of wide-eyed Ensigns without a clue in the world."

The Admiral turned and continued his stroll down the half-repaired corridor, "If it seems like I'm fast-tracking this little lady you can bet your ass its for a good reason. That girl back there is my personal project, and I'm going to seat her in the Captains chair of the biggest baddest Warship ever to come down the pike sometime in the next five years. "

At that Price started to object. Rebecca in COMMAND!? That was insane, she didn’t have a tenth of the necessary skills or refinements.

"I don’t want another refined, Diplomatic Starship Captain, Price." Hoth argued. "Hell, If I want to send someone on a diplomatic mission I always got you or Jean Luc to kick around. What Starfleet needs however is someone to send in to clean house when the diplomats fail, and despite her looks, that little girl is the best ass-kicker we've seen in years."

Captain Price frowned, "That is if your meddling doesn’t kick her ass in the process and get my crew killed. I read in her file about what happened at Nar Hallas. Two Starships lost. 15,000 Colonists killed on the planet surface."

The Admiral waved a dismissing hand, "The USS Courageous was already a burning wreck before Rebecca's ship arrived on the scene, and the USS Houston was just about as bad. AS far as the Colonists went…." Hoth shrugged, " A Lyran Dreadnought intentionally detonated its warp core in low planetary orbit…it scoured the whole planet bare…what could she have done?"

"That’s the alibi from her Court Marshall." Price objected recognizing the phrase. "What could she have done."

"A Court Marshall that exonerated her if you recall." Hoth Countered. "After which I saw fit to assign her to the Galaxy, knowing with your help, our young protégé could be nursemaided along through these growing pains."

"Your turning a little girl into a superweapon."

"Dammit Robert, YOU are a weapon yourself. An Asset of Starfleet that we move and position as we see fit for the benefit of the Federation. Rebecca is no different. Get used to it!"

"Aye….But I chose to be here mate." Price said cooly. "She hasn’t a clue whats going on."

Admiral Hoth turned to face the irate Captain considering him briefly. "Then it seems you have your work cut out for you Captain. Good day to you!"

In silence the two men walked on.

"Ambiguous Agendas"
by James Mitchell
Assistant Chief Science Officer

The evening passed by without incident for once. It had become almost a given that one would only get a couple of hours sleep on the Galaxy without being called to duty in some form or another, and ironically with a Borg drone on board, there wasn't any. Yet, he had slept soundly without interruption or nightmares for a good solid 8 hours.

James pulled himself out of his bed and glanced at the chronometer. Alpha shift was ending soon, and he was due in sickbay for his physical in an hour. Shaking the cobwebs out of his foggy eyes, he stretched and yawned, and as he did so, his commpanel signalled an incoming transmission.

His bones creaked and muscles contracted as the blood flowed back into the flaccid limbs. He felt his heart pound in his ears as he leaned over to key the insistent ringing off and receive the message.

"Ah, Mr. Mitchell! I've been trying to contact you for the last two hours!" An older officer spun in his chair to face the dishevelled officer. "Oh... I see why.." He chuckled as he retrieved a Padd from somewhere to his left.

"Ah, yes, sir. My apologies. I must've overslept." He made a rather poor attempt to straighten his hair as he blinked in embarassment.

"It's quite alright, James. I know what has transpired with the Galaxy. I've read the full report." His visage dropped its jovial demeanour. "Many good people died that day. It should never have happened. I can only wish I had been there." "Be glad you weren't sir. It wouldn't have done anyone any good if you'd been assimilated, sir." "James, listen. I know about the anti-virus the science team on the Galaxy created. Don't feel reponsible. You followed orders, as any good officer would. I need you to do me a favor, though." The grim sadness vanished from the Admiral's face to be replaced by one of deadly seriousness. James remained silent through the transmission, too afraid of betraying his emotions, for fear he would be transferred off the vessel, never to help those that died.

"I am aware of your assignment to the Borg drone that serves as Ambassador to the Federation through the Galaxy. For the time being, it will remain there, as it would restrict the Borg's access to any strategic and defensive systems the Federation has. All pertinent info will be purged from the Galaxy's core, and no new information will be downloaded without Starfleet's direct approval. What I need you to do is follow your commanding officer's orders and stay near the drone. Determine the validity of the anti-virus, how it has affected the Borg, if it can be persuaded into a possible relapse, and attempt to influence the drone into releasing technological details of their defensive systems, since our multi-phasic torpedoes are no longer effective."

"That would involve a lot of interaction with the drone, sir. Is Captain Price aware of these orders?"

"He is not aware, nor is he to be made aware of them, James. His violation of protocol in negotiating a treaty with the Borg has made his judgement questionable. I need to depend on a loyal and honorable officer. Your leading the anti-virus team and providing the formula without question is just the type of officer I need to rely on, whether you find it justifiable or not. Follow your normal duties as you would any other day. The drone isn't leaving the Galaxy any time soon.

No other officer is to know about these orders, enlisted or not. Do not accept any other officer other than myself to communicate and correspond with in regard with these orders. Deny everything.

If any of these orders leak out, Starfleet will invoke plausible deniability."

"I understand, sir. I have my first meeting with the drone in approximately an hour in sickbay."

"Excellent. I have included in this transmission encryption codes, an emitter signal beacon, and repeater frequencies to remit your reports to me. Check in at irregular intervals to avoid suspicion. You have some shrewd security officers on board."

"Aye, sir." The download signal blinked when the file transmission completed.

"By the way, James, your mother says hello. She misses you." With that, the grey-haired Admiral reached across his screen and cut the signal short before James could respond. He sat there, bed-head and all, and blinked. He had no idea who that Admiral was, but the encryption sequences spoke of one who was well-connected. He wondered if the grizzly old Admiral really did know his mother after all.

***Approximately one hour later***

James stood in front of the Sickbay doors and tugged his uniform down at the waist. He still hadn't gotten used to the new grey jackets, but he found them a lot more comfortable and less itchy than the last style. He'd been saving a lot of credits in not having to buy anti-itch cream for those hard-to-reach places at least. One last check for his appearance, and he keyed the door open.

Standing by the biobed, absorbed in the data the medical console displayed on the human anatomy, was the Borg drone, the Doctor uneasily standing near, conspicuously doing something else just out of arms reach.

"...amazing how your species has survived. Your bodies are weak and fragile. Many ways to terminate itself. Excellent workers, even with weaknesses. You will be assimilated." "Not for another 10 years at least, I'd say." The Borg turned to him and trained its red strobe beam on him, scanning him in silence.

"Lieutenant James Mitchell. Species hybrid. Terran and Bajoran. You are my liaison during our tenure with your vessel." It clicked and whirred, it's one good eye passing to the biobed.

"9 years, 364 days, 14 hours, 23 minutes and 16 seconds to be exact. We will be exact in our assimilation of your species, unlike your appointment with the Doctor. Continue your stimuli tests. I wish to observe your reactions."

~James Mitchell
Assistant Chief Science Officer

"The San Francisco Sessions: Act 1"
By James Lionel Corgan
And the Lost Souls Live in Concert.

Location: Holodeck 50, Starbase 114

The crowds were restless. Cheering, waving lighted objects and chanting, it was like nothing else in this era. A rock concert, the revival of a long dead form of music, unseen since the ages past.

The Galaxy Music Club in San Francisco was the start of it all. It was the first live performance by 'The Lost Souls', all thanks to the decree of the Ministry of Arts and Culture. For three days, the Ministry hosted an Intergalactic Arts and Culture Festival, to showcase the Federations' rich diversity in all it's artforms. Rock music was one of the more unique showcases, all spearheaded by one band who had a brushing curiosity of the old music style.

At times like these, in the back of the stage, James waited and wondered "How did I get this far?" He didn't want to bring back the dead music for all to see, he just wanted to perform it. It was his life, his love, and his dream. To let go of the Corgan everyone saw at the academy, and turns himself into the epitome of charisma and popularity.

Popularity was not what he wanted. He wanted to make music to tear the soul and vibrate the heart to its core. That is why he placed on a mask in the last performance, a full head mask made of leather, with a zipper mouth and two eyeslits. It went well with the costume, consisting of tight leather pants and a jacket. The guise proved a point of his before, that he was popular onstage, but at the academy, he was just a loser. Judging his classmates as hypocrites if they liked him for his music and not himself, he put on the mask.

~"Tonight, the mask comes off."~ He vowed.

The people waited impatiently for Corgan the rockstar to appear on stage. The nightclub in a holodeck itself was huge, capable of carrying a quarter of the Galaxy's crew. Perfect size for a rock performance. They had to be big, loud and in your face, with lots of fans having a good time. Perfect scene for what was about to drop.

The stage was pitch black, the holofields creating a veil of artificial night, hiding the performance until the curtain would be removed.

=/\="Places, people, places. The network's online. You've got 25 seconds to take your places. James, are you staying in back?"=/\=

"That's affirmative, Lita. I have to walk in during the start of the song, then sing. Is the bullwhip ready?"

=/\="You'll feel it in your hands in... three seconds."=/\=

And... poof! The whip materialized in his hands. It was a reasonable facsimile of the real thing, and just a nice little stage prop for dramatic effect. He practice whipped a couple of time, hearing the satisfying crack when the tip touched the floor.

"A little extra kink for the first song."

=/\="What was that?"=/\=

"Never mind, we have to take our places. Goodluck and godbless. Ok?"

The veil of darkness lifted. Four bandmembers showed up, with intruments ready. There was somebody hiding behind an elaborate drum setup. He was surrounded by his own intruments, making a cell that was hard to escape. This area was near the center.

To the far left, a 'crow's nest' of electronic gagetry took over, and on top of that crow's nest surveyed a proud looking Bolian. The lights of his machinery shadowed his face like a skull. His clothes were dark and brooding, with black pants and a black turtleneck.

Below the crow's nest, and a little close to the center of the stage, the brains of the operation manned her bass guitar, while right beside her, a skinny little man with wild hair and a nervous complextion fingered his electric guitar hesitantly. They weren't wearing leather, choosing instead to wear jeans and t-shirts. The woman bass player advertised something about 'Bollocks' and 'Sex Pistols', while the guitar player's was pure white.

The far right housed one seat, with a female Vulcan on its lap. She straddled a beautiful harp that accentuated her sparkling white dress and headpiece. She readied herself with an eerie calm, neither moved nor unimpressed by the crowds that chanted. To her left, a white guitar waited alone.

Then the music started. Rancheous, racy and even hardcore could describe the sound. From the back of the stage to the front, flames outlined a path. James followed the path, with a microphone in one hand and a bullwhip in the other. He cracked the whip in his hand to the beat of the song.

=/\="In a house by the tracks
I want, I want you back
In a dress that's painted black
I want you back, I want you back

All the ways my mother taught me how
I want, I want you now
In any place you'll allow
I want you now, I want you now =/\=

The black suited James threw his bullwhip into the crowds. People in the front jumped up to grab the object. The milling mass of bodies made it hard to find who received the prop. Then, James unbuttoned his leather jacket.

=/\=It's never very hard stayin' true
when i'm stayin' true to you
And your kisses are all I think about
Your purpose and your moves and your grooves And the little things you do
And the silly things you love about

I called, you came
I called, you came
It seems to be our only way
I'll be driven of the kissin'
That i'm missin'
Truly wishin' that you'll listen
When i sweetly ask to you

Strip tease for me, baby
Strip tease for me, baby
Strip tease for me, baby
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhowwwwwwwww!

All the ways you never ever had
I want, I want you bad
You know I'll never make you sad
I want you bad, I want you bad

As if I never said the worst
I want, I want you first
The only thing that can quench my thirst I want you first, I want you first

It's never very hard stayin' true
when i'm stayin' true to you
And your kisses are all I think about
Your purpose and your moves and your grooves And the little things you do
And the silly things you love about

I called, you came
I called, you came
It seems to be our only way
I'll be driven of the kissin'
That i'm missin'
Truly wishin' that you'll listen
When i sweetly ask to you

Strip tease for me, baby
Strip tease for me, baby
Strip tease for me, baby
Aaaah! =/\=

Unexpectedly, James Corgan tried a striptease of his own, taking off the leather jacket slowly, then waving it in the air. He threw the jacket into the crowd while shaking his 'money maker'. The fans were going wild, while some others were wondering what possessed the crazy officer to such onstage antics.

All that was left was a leather vest and his leather pants. His tattoos, including his new 'fallen angel' were our for all to see as he sang his final act.

=/\=In a house by the tracks
I want, I want you back
In a dress that's painted black
I want you back, I want you back

All the ways my mother taught me how
I want, I want you now
In any place you'll allow
I want you now, I want you now

It's never very hard stayin' true
when i'm stayin' true to you
And your kisses are all I think about
Your purpose and your moves and your grooves And the little things you do
And the silly things you love about

I called, you came
I called, you came
It seems to be our only way
I'll be driven of the kissin'
That i'm missin'
Truly wishin' that you'll listen
When i sweetly ask to you

Strip tease for me, baby
Strip tease for me, baby
Strip tease for me, baby
Ooooooooooow!=/\=

The crowds that weren't shocked from the initial assault to the ears were cheering exuberantly. ~"They're loving it."~ James thought. Without showing his enthusiasm, he calmly takes off his vest and shows off even more of his tattoos on his arms and shoulders. He threw the leather vest into the crowd, another gift for the rock and roll collectors to hunt for.

Then, instantly, the stage goes dark, except for red rings of dull, glowing light surround each bandmember. Sotek and Gerald Morton start off, a tandem of harp and heavy guitar starting the song. James grabs his antique Fender Strat, watching the holographic leaves blow around him. He joins in, takes a deep breath and sings in a silken voice. It was a difficult song to sing, so he took in all the air he could get.

=/\=I've felt the hate rise up in me...
Kneel down and clear the stone of leaves...
I wander over where you can't see...
Inside my shell, I wait and bleed... =/\=

The rest of the instruments join in, building up for a climatic peak. The wind blowing the fake leaves around grows stronger, like a tornado surrounding the lead singer. The pace of the song changes from ominous to rapid and fierce.

=/\=GOODBYE!

I wipe it off on tile, the light is brighter this time Everything is 3D blasphemy
My eyes are red and gold, the hair is standing straight up This is not the way I pictured me
I can't control my shakes
How the hell did I get here?
Something about this, so very wrong...
I have to laugh out loud, I wish I didn't like this Is it a dream or a memory?

I've felt the hate rise up in me...
Kneel down and clear the stone of leaves...
I wander over where you can't see...
Inside my shell, I wait and bleed... =/\=

=/\= Get outta my head cuz I don't need this Why I didn't I see this?
I'm a victim - Manchurian candidate
I have sinned by just
Makin' my mind up and takin' your breath away

I've felt the hate rise up in me...
Kneel down and clear the stone of leaves...
I wander over where you can't see...
Inside my shell, I wait and bleed...

Goodbye!

You haven't learned a thing
I haven't changed a thing
My flesh was in my bones
The pain was always free

I've felt the hate rise up in me...
Kneel down and clear the stone of leaves...
I wander out where you can't see...
Inside my shell, I wait and bleed... =/\=

And it waits for you!

An abrupt stop ended the song. The darkness faded, replaced by a lighted stage. The crowds whooped and cheered, loving every moment of the action.

James placed his hand behind his head, unzipped his mask and pulled it right off. He held it high in the air for all to see, a proclaimation of 'I don't need this'. The mask flies into the fans with James's hardest throw, flying into the third row disappearing in a wave of a million hands.

"Are you people having fun yet?" Lieutenant Corgan, the rockstar, forcefully yelled. At this point, he could say no wrong because the fans ate it up. Every work he spoke brought cheers.

"Well, I'm gonna play something that sucks, you don't mind?" He asked the crowd. They wanted more, more music, more antics, must more of the rockstar. He complied, snapping his fingers to summon in the background huge, crumbling skyscrapers, a blood red sky with an orange sun, and dark cloud of crimson mist. In the middle of the background, a statue of a man holding a hammer and a sickle slowly crumbles as the song plays.

=/\=Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and an*l sex
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture Give me back the Berlin wall give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder

Things are going to slide ...
There'll be the breaking of the ancient western code
Your private life will suddenly explode There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is murder
Things are going to slide ...
When they said REPENT REPENT ..=/\=

"And now for something a little more... mellow." James announced.

The background city, the crumbling statue, and the walls separating the bandmates crumbled to the ground, creating mounds of rubble that surrounded them all. James started off with his guitar, beginning with a heavy, distorted beat. Chains and metal beams came from the ceiling, dropping down and hanging limp over their heads. In the background, strange looking machines walked and climbed the rubble. They were mechanical bug like creatures, some small, a few larger than a Naussican. The sky even changed, to a dull yellow. Pretty soon, the whole band was playin

g the next song.

=/\=If I were alive
If I were real
Would you survive?
What would you feel?

Heavy metal, heavy metal machine=/\=

The song turned soft, harmonious, as the sky lightened up to a whiter color. Sotek's harp joined in at this point, and James' voice took on a more pleasant and soft spoken tone.

=/\=Heavy metal, heavy metal machine
As sentimental as our broken dreams
Heavy metal, heavy metal machine....

Let me die for rock and roll
Let me die to save my soul
Let me die, let me die, rock and roll
Let the world forgive the past
Let all the girls kiss the boys at last Let me go, let me go, rock and roll

Heavy metal, heavy metal machine
Heavy metal, a heavy metal machine
We're the metal in their metal machines Heavy metal, heavy metal machine

Back to being hard and heavy, the song drops into a darker tone of sound, like the beginning.

If I were dead
Would my records sell?
Could you even tell?
Is it just as well?

Heavy metal, heavy metal machine=/\=

Then another transformation that involved more in sound. The scene itself started to bathe in light from the floor. The machinations reflected the light, while most of the lighted panels shone around Lieutenant Corgan. Playing his guitar, singing in his heavenly voice and being surrounded in the light made him feel close to having a spiritual experience.

=/\=It's elemental to all the rust it brings Heavy metal, heavy metal machine

Let me die for rock and roll
Let me die to save my soul
Let me die, let me die, rock and roll
Let the world forgive the past
Let all the girls kiss the boys at last Let me go, let me go, rock and roll

Heavy metal, heavy metal machine
Heavy metal, a heavy metal machine
We're the metal in their droning schemes Heavy metal, heavy metal machine

Will I survive?
Is it up to me?
Could you understand
That it's not yours to keep?

Heavy metal, heavy metal machine
Heavy metal, heavy metal machine
Heavy metal, heavy metal machine
Heavy metal, heavy metal machine=/\=

The clanking machines started to cease up and fail. Right where they stood, the all fell, dimming their light panels for eyes, then a rigor mortis to their leg joins, then machine death. The guitar solo played as one by one, each machine failed to start again. The short solo ended, with the Naussican sized robot falling on it's beetle-like underside, flailing it's helpless brass legs until finally, the lights in its eyes faded and the legs stopped moving.

The holographic scene faded away, replacing it with more darkness with patches of light to highlight the bandmembers. Hikari Jo'Hann started off the next song with some hauntingly sad keyboards. Shadowy tendrils surrounded James, brushing him, coiling around his arms, legs and chest like a giant snake going about its business.

"I just want to say," Corgan yelled to the crowds through the microphone, "That sometimes, against your best judgement, you care about people too much to leave them be. Some of you are trapped in this web, with no way of getting out. You may call it bliss, I call it hell. It's the shackles that bind people together in some sweet silence that I can't fathom to understand. I bet it's the one thing that the universe knows that I don't, and that's love. I'm not sure what it feels like, but I'm sure it feels like this when it's at it's deepest...

I envy you all."

The shadows gathered and made forms around the lead singer, taking the form of little men with bat wings. They were the demons he faced every day, the annoying little gnats that bugged and prodded his sanity to the breaking point. He played his guitar, ignoring the swirling shadow coils and little devil men, and sang. For the first time that night, he felt sad to be singing a song.

=/\=There are no unlockable doors
There are no unwinable wars
There are no unrightable wrongs
Or unsignable songs
There are no unbeatable odds
There are no believable gods
There are no unnameable names
Shall I say it again, yeah

There are no impossible dreams
There are no invisible seams
Each night when the day is through
I don't ask much, I just want you
I just want you

There are no uncriminal crimes
There are no unrhymable rhymes
There are no identical twins or forgivable sins There are no incurable ills
There are no unkillable thrills
One thing and you know it's true,
I don't ask much, I just want you

I just want you
I just want you
I just want you =/\=

The song took another sad turn. It picked up the pace, amplifying the emotion felt in the house. Even James was swept up, singing and playing like it was his own heart being put out to the fans to examine. He started to play faster, scream louder and put more feeling into the song.

He didn't know how or why the song so easily brought him out. It was just a love song! Love was dead, how could he feel something dead? It had to be something else, it had to be, but what?

James continued to play, not stopping for a moment out of innate curiousity.

=/\=I'm sick and tired of bein' sick and tired I used to go to bed so high and wired, yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah I think I'll buy myself some plastic water I guess I should have married Lennon's daughter, yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah

There are no unachievable goals
There are no unsaveable souls
No legitimate kings or queens,
do you know what I mean? Yeah
There are no indisputable truths
And there ain't no fountain of youth
Each night when the day is through,
I don't ask much, I just want you
I just want you
I just want you
I just want you
I just want you
I just want you.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I just want you
I just want you=/\=

He couldn't describe the feeling he got from playing the song. He remembered it from long ago, a song that he once played for his ex-girlfriend. It was beautiful, strong and meaningful, just like the song he played. Those were better times, when he actually felt.

Smiling at the crowd, he shed a tear of joy. He actually felt good, if overwhelmed. He didn't notice the ticklish feeling of the single tear running down his cheek, since he was busy thinking of something else.

=/\="Hey, Corgan! Are you alive up there?"=/\= Spoke Lita, from an earpiece.

'Wha... oh, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" James replied, covering his microphone to talk in private.

=/\="Because... you're standing out there for the last minute, smiling at the crowd. Back to the real world pal! And... right cheek... near the lip. You notice?"=/\=

James felt the small, salty tear near his lip. Shocked and embarrassed, hoping nobody in the first row noticed, he flicked it aside like a bug. He was hopelessly embarrased. Some outbursts of emotion were ok, but tears in his ideology were useless. Joy and sadness could be expressed strongly without tears, so why now? They didn't belong. They were a weakness in his eyes.

"It never happened, got it?"

=/\="Got it. Now hurry up. We have to play Stitches"=/\=

Nearby, the stage morphed into a motherboard of technology. It slowly formed around everyone, green, blue and crystalline structures sprouting out that looked like isolinear chips. Chad the drummer turned his seat and switched to his echo machine when the song started.

If it stayed i'd never leave it
If that turned around
I'd grieve the special dirty things that we used to talk about I mean that loving you is strange
And adored by me throughout oh no it's you again Someday soon you'll find that someone
Waiting for the chance to beat you
Drooling on the set to feel you
Blessing you with every kiss

Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause your the death of me So precious loving the thrill
Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause your the death of me So precious loving the thrill

Such the patient one who needs me
The spoiled one who wins
So shocking where's your sense
Don't you know i hate you, ohoh
Unsatisfied,you little girl.

Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause your the death of me So precious loving the thrill
Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause your the death of me So precious loving the thrill

Rolling dice and seeming queer
Bastard love,a sick affair
Let's see what new disease you'll fetch I mean that fucking you is strange
And adored by me throughout
Oh no it's you again
Blessing you with every kiss

So precious you know this hate of mine exploded I'm so deranged you know
I will never be the same

Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause your the death of me So precious loving the thrill
Tying yourself to me
Stitch up my emptiness cause your the death of me So precious loving the thrill

The echo machine tapped out its hollow thuds. The harp intermingles with the synthetic sounds eminating from the crow's nest. Chaotic sounds merged into order, messed emotions turned legible by the sound of the song. The band took it away for the rest of the song, finishing it off with more abrasive guitar rock and synthetic melody. It was nothing short of beautiful...

For a techno industrial song, anyways. Those songs weren't meant for beauty, but for pain. Pain was beautiful in that song.

He felt alive in the concert hall. He was able to speak out, not repress, any emotion that he felt like feeling. Such is the freedom of a musician. Free to express, to feel, and to hell with everything else. For brief seconds, he felt that joy, happiness, love and all the other feeling barren to him before were obtainable.

The San Francisco sessions continued well into the night.

(Get ready for Act 2)

"The San Francisco Sessions, Act 2"
By James Lionel Corgan
And the Lost Souls, live in Concert.

Location, Starbase 114.

Two hours into the show, James Corgan sand without losing steam. He enjoyed the immense crowds, the furious beats, the relentless pace, all the sweating, the sore fingers, the hoarse throat, everything. All worth it for the feeling of adrenaline he had rushing in his veins and messing with his body. It also helped him to vent his emotions in a peaceful way, screaming in the microphone instead of shooting his phaser in anger.

Two hours of pure rock and roll, still captivating (or repulsing) the audience. He needed to slow it down a bit, give the holoprojectors a break for 'Pretty', their most graphically intense song yet. He had just the proper song. The next one was melancholy enough to break the toughest spirit. James put away his gleaming white guitar, replacing it with as oak finish acoustic model.

"You know," He started, "There are some times that you feel like ain't worth the effort you put into it. Friends, family, love and life, all become a big disappointment. A big... letdown. This next song is about a man named James... written by a man named Kurt over two hundred and some years ago. He's at a crossroad in life, wondering what the hell he's doing here. He chooses the crossroad of life and death... his life sucks sometimes, but he's afraid that death is even worse, so he has to make a tough decision. There's a little bit of James in all of us you know. We can have all that we want in life, and still wonder if it was worth it. That's when you visit that crossroad and ponder your question."

He strummed his acoustic guitar, closing his eyes and drifting in his song. The holostage didn't put up any special effects. The background instruments played purely organic sounds. The crows nest laid empty, the drums tinged with the sound of cymbals and the Vulcan harp lulled people to peace.

=/\=Come, as you are, as you were,
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy Take your time, hurry up,
The choice is yours, don't be late
Take a rest, as a friend, as an old memoriiiiiii.... Aaaahhh.
Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah

Come, dowsed in mud, soaked in bleach
As I want you to be
As a trend, as a friend, as an old memoriiiiiiiah Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah

And I swear that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun

Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah
(And I don't have a gun!)=/\=

The rest of the instruments fire up for a full force assault. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he hands the acoustic guitar to a person in the front row, then takes up his trusty Fender Strat and joins the rest of the band.

And I swear that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun

Memoriiiiiah
Memoriiiiiah

Hikari fades the song out with some synthetic sounds, that sound like scissors cutting at a rapid pace. Glass forms in front of the band, starting with the floor, a glossy shine crawling on the bottom of the stage and taking more space.

"I have something to address, if I may say so?" James asked the crowds. They cheered, allowing him to continue, "Thank you. While I was serving on my new assignment, we've been involved in the hairiest actions since the war, all while hell decided to break loose inside. I know a few of you, personal victims of consequences beyond your power to stop. Sick men... strange, twisted little freaks that robbed more than you can get back. I know who you are, because I got personally involved because I was sick of the sh*t going on. I can say many things, like 'I feel your pain', or 'I'm there for you' but I couldn't lie to your faces. Nobody but you can understand what you went through.

Instead of pretense, I thought I'd try to understand what you went through. This song... reminded me of you all..."

The song starts off with the guitars jamming in a heavy, slow tone. James moves around, away from the microphone and closer to the crowd. A replacement microphone pops out of his cheek like a errant borg implant, it's tip barely touching his mouth.

The guitars end, with some soft and eerie keyboards and horn sounds. Meanwhile, the glass on the floor forms, and starts to create walls. The floor starts to take a color and pattern of blue bathroom tile.

=/\=So... so loud
Wait, but I don't realize.
How? Why? Legs
Broke. The pain between her thighs.=/\=

The tile floor finishes forming as the band starts up with another high pitched crescendo of sound. The guitars fired up like demons from hell, spitting out their poisonous wraith on the unsuspecting populace. The walls were finished, a transparent form of a modern bathroom seen through the blacks stage, the front of the bathroom deleted to give a public view of the strangled mind of James Corgan, and the technical wizardry of Lita Jordan.

James musters every last breath and screams out loud the lyrics, digging deep for the energy to keep him going. His face turns ashen white, and the rims of his eyes turn black. His gothic face looks dead.

=/\=I see your pretty face,
Smashed against the bathroom floor!
What a disgrace!
Who do I feel sorry for?=/\=

Back to going slow with the synths and harp, James' gothic mask melts off his face. The bathtub, sink, toilet and mirror all form and create color, while the walls sneaked upwards towards competion.=/\=

=/\=Skin... so cold.
How could someone steal a life?
Save... the blame.
Wait, I got some shit to say.=/\=

James pounded his fist into the bathroom mirror, cracking it in a spiderweb design. The chorus brings in more of the heavy performance.

=/\=I see your pretty face,
Smashed against the bathroom floor!
What a disgrace!
Who do I feel sorry for?
Smashed and raped!
Not again. This is a real crime.
What a pretty face.
Who do I feel sorry for?=/\=

Rapidly, the bathroom finishes itself off, complete with shining white walls, beautiful linen towels, brass fixtures and a window that shows the sunny outside world. The room grows ar

ound the musicians, isolating them by inches from the surroundings. Finally, the roof is completed, with a spinning fan and bright, shining lights.

James sings to the broken bathroom mirror.

=/\=RAPE! Something...
NOW! Rips my...
HEART! And takes...
MY! Soul I...
WAIT! Too late...
NOW! I feel...
RAPED! Inside...
DEATH! My soul away....
Away....
Away....
Away....
Awwwwaaaayyyyyyyyy.....=/\=

Surprisingly, on cue of the last chorus, the glass in the bathroom all shatters at the same time, shooting outwards, spraying the bandmembers with glimmering debris. With the holographic safeties on, the glass disappears when it flies out of the stage boundaries, and the glass doesn't cut. Next was the tile, bursting in sets, adding to the mess, then the brass, then the porcelain. There were shards of bathroom flying everywhere while the band played, like tiny explosives were planted in the walls.

The lasts to give way were the walls themselves. The plaster was flung about. James, almost invisible in the destruction, kept singing and playing.

=/\=I see your pretty face,
smashed against the bathroom floor!
What a disgrace!
Who do I feel sorry for?
Smashed and raped!
Not again. This is a real crime.
What a pretty face.
Who do I feel sorry for...=/\=

The small explosions stop. Powdered plaster and porcelain still flew, the remnants of the last explosion. The bandmembers could be maid out, without a scratch. The holoscene faded away and turned into a dark highway, with James Corgan on the dividing line. Two hovercars blasted past him when they started the next song, kicking up desert dust as they race towards the moonlit mesas.

=/\=Got a green light gotta green light yeah But i'm going nowhere
gotta green light gotta red light yeah
No stop no stop I don't care
Every one of you could be the same
Every one of you could play the game
Gotta green light gotta green light yeah But ya goin' nowhere

You know the best things in life aren't for me You know the best things in life aren't for free

Gotta new life gotta new plight yeah
And it's going nowhere
On a mountaintop like a pin drop yeah
No God no thought I don't care
Every one of you could be the same
Every one of you can play this game
gotta new life gotta new plight yeah
And it's going nowhere

You know the best things in life aren't for me You know the best things in life aren't for free

Gotta new find gotta new crime yeah
And its going nowhere
Like a global path like a car crash yeah No cop no stop he don't care
Every one of you are just the same
Every one of you will play this game
Gotta new find gotta new crime yeah
And it's going nowhere

You know the best things in life aren't for me You know the best things in life aren't for free You know the best things in life aren't for me You know the best things in life aren't for free You know the best things in life aren't for me You know the best things in life aren't for free You know the best things in life aren't for me You know the best things in life aren't for free=/\=

=/\="Jesus Christ! We have a problem, Corgan!"=/\=

The set was stopped by Lita's private messaging to James Corgan. He dreaded hearing about problems, especially with experimental holotech. There was one more song to go, the most important song of the entire Sessions. They couldn't have setbacks at a time like this.

"Lita... you do realize we're going to be doing Rain now..." He retracted his microphone to speak to Lita.

=/\="I know, but 'Pretty' was too much of a strain on the subspace frequencies. My transmitter's fried, and I can only get a quarter of the bandwidth to the rest of you guys. I had to cut the special effects on the last song in half."=/\=

"Can you still get some of the special effects to work?"

=/\="I'm trying... I'm trying... I can't get the special effects, so we'll have to do with just the band visuals and the audio."=/\=

"Fine. Don't worry about it. We'll just have to go commando."

He looked at the crowd, then the holoprojections of his friends in the band. Some of them, expecially Hikari (with his almost complete dominance of the bandwidth) shifted. The nearby holoprojectors felt hot, even from meters away.

The show had to go on.

"I have a little something extra for you all," James told the waiting crowds, "it's... special. Very special. It's going to be part of our next album. Totally original, all our own stuff, not any of these oldies. It wasn't made to be on the album... no. It was made for a couple of friends of mine..."

Lieutenant Corgan bowed his head in humility. He was almost ashamed to speak. Finding an excuse to gather himself, he scanned the rows for Rebecca Von Erst. Nothing, nothing yet. He couldn't find her in the front rows. The mass of people cheering made it hard to spot out a little timid girl with a forest green dress. Easier to spot was Electra Reece. Somewhere in the front row, a tall woman in a black dress watched the show, and still nothing.

~"Where did they go?"~

"Alright..." James continued, "Just a couple of friends. Wanna say that... I'm a real dickhead and I'm really sorry about it. I'm not worthy of your forgiveness, and this is the best that I can do. Sorry I can't make a good enough apology... maybe this song will put it in better words. I don't know. For the first time, I want to premier the 'I'm So Worthless' mix of the song 'Rain'. Goodnight, and godbless."

He started the song with a twang from his guitar, blending beautiful music from all the instruments into a saddening, harmonious piece.

=/\=You came upon me
And I said I'm sorry
I cannot ever compete
With the angel's gaze from you

I'm beat and bloody
So cast aside my body
I know that I am honored
To be right next to you

And we can just sit here
We can talk about the weather
Or we can talk about... the rain
Keep us together
So we can talk about our troubles
Or we can talk... about our pain

I show all my weakness
It's a risk I take for granted
I am so weak
So strained,
I know I'm not worthy
To talk about the good things
What else can I do
In the rain?

So take and lift me
My angel, my lovely
I got a blackened soul
That's all I have for you

I'm so unworthy
I can't believe you speak to me
There's not a single thing
I can ever do for you

Except we could sit here
We can talk about the weather
Or we can just talk about... the rain
Keep us together
So we can talk about our troubles
Or we just talk... about our pain

I bleed out my weakness
And I faint when near your greatness
There is just nothing
Worth more
Believe me I'm worthless
To have all the good things
But what can you do
In the...

Rain?=/\=

James pushed on the guitar's pedal a few times, to fade out the song and bring in some strange distortion. All the sound died, except for the transitional crowd cheers and the occasional rose thrown to the stage. Behind Lieutenant Corgan, the images of his friends disappeared. He heard the sound of the holograms fading away. The holoprojectors on the stage deactivated, their humming stopped, the lights dimmed and the heat started to dissipate.

James was alone on the stage, watching the standing ovation. The yells and cheers were almost deafening, most definitely overwhelming to watch. He smiled and nodded, waving to the people humbly and snatching a rose from the air. Thoughtfully, he smelled the scent of the rose., and raised his guitar in the air with his other hand in triumph.

(Finally, the freaking end!)