"Launch the Shuttles"by Commander Thomas - First Officer
USS Galaxy
"Launch the Shuttles"
by Commander Thomas - First Officer
USS Galaxy
w/exert from "Final preparations" by Price
Commander Thomas received word that the ship had arrived the nebula. Which meant it was time to proceed with the shuttle mission. The Galaxy would launch two shuttles and they would proceed to deploy 2 beacons at specific coordinates. Then begin mapping the outer rim of the nebula, while the ship proceed into the nebula to map inside.
Captain Brhode appeared to either be mistaken or didn't understand what he'd explained to him during their first meeting, despite the fact he said he did. Which concerned the commander slightly, but the entire operation was on file including how they were to proceed.
"Commander Thomas to main shuttlebay, you may proceed with the launch of the shuttles and move the rescue units into place." Chris said after having tapped the combadge on the command chair.
[Acknowledged, sir.]
Chris watched the monitor and monitor the situation using the control panel on the captain's chair. He actually wished the ship's bridge was a Sovereign's bridge as the display readouts for the captain's chair and executive chairs provided more information. He only wanted the bridge layout and the enhancements, he still liked the Galaxy class's look and design specs.
Captain Brhode stepped out of his ready room.
"Commander." Brhode acknowledged as Chris began to rise up out of the Captain's chair. "I've received the duty roster from the following departments: Operations, Counseling, Security and Science. That means I'm still awaiting the new duty assignments from Command, Tactical, Flight Control, Engineering and Medical." The Captain explained in a slightly, disapproving tone at the time it was taking these department heads to get their duty rosters assembled and turned in.
The Captain handed the padd to the First Officer.
Chris took the padd from the captain and reviewed the list:
====================== Operations:
Alpha 0900 - 1730
Main Bridge: Lieutenant Electra Reece
Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
Battle Bridge: Lieutenant Mohammed Uhura Shuttle Bay: Lieutenant Kimi Okuda
Beta 1700 - 0130
Main Bridge: Lieutenant Sheree Sardar
Lieutenant Norman Freeman
Battle Bridge: Lieutenant Masheera Hengas Shuttle Bay: Ensign U'Brafe
Gamma 0100 - 0930
Main Bridge: Ensign Cutter Kara'nin
Ensign Boaz Trinker
Battle Bridge: Ensign Tesaria Kay Polarasi Shuttle Bay: Ensign S'Ren
======================
Counseling:
Alpha shift: 0900-1730
Lieutenant Commander Michael S O'Grady, CCNS (Command and Medical crew/Bridge duty)*
Ensign Bruce Zrama (Science and Civilian crew)
Lt. Prabhat Semanka (Security crew)
Lt.(jg) Emma Marshall (Engineering and assists with Security crew)
Lt.(jg) Amy Green (Educational supplimentation)
Beta Shift:17:00 to 01:30
Lt.Commander Maxwell-Navarre Shinta (Command and Medical crew)
Ensign Tamaria Grensii (Science and Civilian crew)
Ensign Angelica Garcia (Security crew)
Ens Lance Garcia (Engineering and assists with Security crew)
Gamma Shift:01:00 to 9:30
Lt. Adrian An'quinsos (Command and Medical crew)
Lt.(jg) Emma Marshall (Science and Civilian crew)
Lt.(jg) Brian Elessidil (Security crew)
Lt.(jg) Ambria Trenton (Engineering and assists with Security crew)
======================
Security:
Alpha shift (0900-1730):
Cmdr. Rayna O'Grady, shift supervisor
Lt. jg Chester Charles Copperpot, Brig Supervisor Lt. Bruce Maxwell, Armory Supervisor
Officers on Duty: Ensign Dante Hicks (npc)
Beta shift (1700-0130):
Cmdr. Lt. Raven Darkstar, shift supervisor Lt. jg Alia Elspeth Drakely, Brig Supervisor Ensign Arel Smith, Armory Supervisor
Officers on Duty: Ensign Victor Azana (npc?) Ensign Randall Boggs (npc)
Gamma shift (0100-0930):
Lt. jg Seth Zonhieb, shift supervisor
Ensign Maggie Osborn, Brig Supervisor
Ensign Johnathan Thaddeus Bartnom, Armory Supervisor
======================
Science:
Alpha - (9:00 - 17:30)
Lt.Commander James Mitchell (Bridge Science Station) Lt. Rose Isis MacAllen (Laboratory station*)
Beta - (17:00 - 01:30)
Lt. Wilhem Quevvenson (Bridge Science Station) Ensign Friedrich Wilhelm Arentshorst (Laboratory station*)
Gamma - (01:00 - 9:30)
Ensign Numa Taurean (Bridge Science Station) Ensign Sendi Soleri (Laboratory station*) NPC
======================
Glancing up, Chris commented, "I'll see to it that the other departments get their reports turned in before the deadline sir."
Brhode took the command chair and glanced away at the screen when he answered. "See to it that you do Commander. For there will be hell to pay for any department that doesn't get their shift assignments turned in and posted on time."
After a pause, Brhode asked, "How is the mission proceeding Commander?"
"Fine sir. We've just dispatched the shuttles, they are getting into position now to begin the outer survey and launch the marker buoys." Commander Thomas explained.
"Excellent. You may proceed Commander. The sooner we get those things in place, the sooner we can get down to the real business of mapping the interior of that thing." Brhode stated.
"Aye sir." Thomas acknowledged as he moved over to the XO station to continue directing the shuttle operations of the mission he'd assembled.
The shuttles were en-route to their designated drop points right now. It would take the shuttles another eight minutes to get into place and deploy the beacons as pre-planned.
Commander Thomas turned his attention to the list of departments that had not turned in their updated duty rosters. Which included the command duty roster, something he'd have to get working apparently, but first he needed to talk with Tactical, Flight Control, Engineering and Medical.
However with the captain sitting on the bridge now he couldn't exactly contact each department vocally so he decided to send them a message until he was off duty and then he'd speak with them privately.
Chris started typing a message.
{TO: Lt. von Ernst, Lt. Commander Gustavson, Lt. Commander Suder, and Lt. Commander Dothan.} {From: Commander Thomas - First Officer} {Subject: New Duty Rosters on a three shift rotation}
{ Greetings Everyone,
It has come to my attention, by the captain that you've not yet turned in your new duty rosters. You need to change your departments rotation from four shifts to three shifts. Here's the information on the three shifts, including hours of each shift.
Alpha - (9:00 - 17:30)
Beta - (17:00 - 01:30)
Gamma - (01:00 - 9:30)
Please see to it that you're revised duty shifts are turned in by the end of Beta shift today.
Commander Thomas}
Chris dispatched the message.
***
"Captain Brhode the shuttles are in place and will be deploying the beacons in one minute thirty seconds. Following a full stop and then testing of the homing beacon to ensure it's properly deployed." Chris noted to the captain who was sitting in his chair waiting for the shuttles to be done.
"Thank you commander." Brhode said.
Chris continued to monitor the situation as he wanted to be able to get the interior mapping of the nebula underway to make the captain happy. Of course he was also interested in seeing the mission completed properly.
With another two minutes elapsed, he was happy to report the news. "Captain the beacons have been deployed and are working within specified parameters. The shuttles are in position and preparing to proceed with the mapping of the outer nebula, using the new science sensors." Chris said.
"Very good commander. Then we can proceed?"
"Yes captain." Chris said.
"Helm set course to take us into the nebula putting us mid-way between the two beacons and engage at 1/2 impulse until we enter then nebula, the adjust our speed to specs." Chris said.
"Aye commander." Lt. Commander Gustavson said.
The USS Galaxy proceed towards the Mako Nebula.
"Captain I am happy to report that we're now underway to map the Mako Nebula. We should enter the nebula in five minutes, sir." Chris said turning the next phase of the mission over to the captain.
"Sparring"
By Lt. Sheree Sardar, Operations Officer
Sardar stared down the Jem Hadar facing opposite of her. He smiled, twirling his sword, making lazy arcs in the air as he moved circling the female Sarrahban. The two combatants faced down in a open field, surrounded by tall grass and forrest. A gentle breeze rustled the grass and leaves in the nearby trees.
For Sardar, she watched him as he moved, keeping the Jem Hadar in front of her. She gripped her battle lance firmly, her face a mask of intensity. Sardar was ready for another go at her opponent who was just as tall as her.
The Jem Hadar lunged forward, his sword lashing out in a fury of cuts and jabs. Sardar back-pedalled, keeping her lance up front, defecting the assault and waited for the right moment to counter-strike. A few heartbeats later, Sardar saw her chance and she jumped on the offensive. She thrusted the blade tip of her lance forward and the Jem Hadar tried to maneuver out of the way but the blade sliced across his arm, cutting through his uniform and into his flesh.
"Argh!" The Jem Hadar growled before striking with another rain of sword blows which the Sarrahban defended off with a determined effort without giving an inch of ground.
With a swift maneuver, Sardar knock his sword to one side and spun about and drove the weighed end of her battle lance in the stomach of the Jem Hadar. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet and down flat on the grassy floor.
Gasping for breath the Jem Hadar held his hands up, saying. "Time out."
Sardar stopped her attack, shaking her head. "Oh, you big baby! It s just a flesh wound."
"Yes, but it s MY flesh that is wounded." The Jem Hadar replied, sitting up. "I think I had enough, it s time for you to kick me up to level 4, I m not much of a challenge to you anymore."
"Maybe you re right," Sardar said, listening to his demand. "But I ll have do it next week, my hour on the holo-deck is almost up."
"Next week?" Jem Hadar said in puzzlement, finally standing up. "But we spar at least 3 times a week. Why the change?"
"It s not you Bordello, it s our new Captain. He placed limitations on holo-deck usage effective immediately. Right now we re all limited to one hour a week on the holo-deck. The bright side is that crewmembers who perform their duties well will get more time on the holo-deck as an reward and I intend to be on my best behaviour. You ll be seeing more of me before you know it."
"Is that a promise or a threat?" Bordello inquired with an uncharacteristic Jem Hadar smirk.
"I don t exactly need a mouthy sparring partner."
"You programmed me this way." Bordello answered. "You were the one who wanted someone to talk to."
Sardar looked towards the ground for a moment, remembering her time on the Lincoln and she had no friends and no one to spar with to fight. After putting three crewmember in sickbay in as many days, the Captain forbid her to practise fighting with any living opponents. That limited her to the holo-deck and so she fought with a computer generated Jem Hadar to pummel on.
The fighting came easy but making friends did not and she became lonely enough to ask the computer to give the Jem Hadar she spared with a friendly personality of all things. He became Mr. Bordello (Named after an Andorian dish special they where serving in the lounge area that day) and she started chatting with him during their fights. He soon became a friend and confidant. She told him things that she never dared tell anyone else before. In the end, he was the one that convinced her to get to know her shipmates better. Just go to the one of the ship s social gatherings he suggested. When she was transferred to the Galaxy, she made sure that she copied him and brought him along.
"And don t think I don t appreciate you for that." Sardar smiled.
The Jem Hadar nodded before bowing his head to her. "Until we meet again, Sheree Sardar of the Sarrahban."
Sardar bowed in return. "Be well, Bordello, my good friend."
They both stood up straight and Sardar watched him before ordering. "Computer, end program."
An instantly later, Bordello and the environment melted away, replaced by the familiar black and yellow striped holo-deck room.
-------------------------------------------------
"Transfer."
By Commander Kent Peterson
Lieutenant Commander Sullax paced along the observation deck of the Starship Prospero as the four would-be Romulans tried conversing with one another. He was concerned that they were not prepared enough - a reflection of the same work ethic he demonstrated as chief science officer on the Starship Galaxy - but this was different. He was a Romulan by birth, but he had chosen the United Federation of Planets, but still, he knew what they would be walking in to.
The Romulan people were a suspicious bunch. It took near on forever to get them involved in the war against the Dominion, them preferring to sit on the fence and allow their adversaries to give one another a bloody nose. Their cloaking technology too reflected this covert preference and helped instill a sense of mystery on the other side of the Romulan Neutral Zone. Now these four, none of whom had Romulan bone in their bodies, were preparing to go to the heart of the Romulan Star Empire.
"If I were a Romulan naval officer and I walked up to you," Sullax said, cutting in to their conversation and talking directly to Commander Peterson and Counselor Dallas, now dressed as a Romulan intelligence operatives, "and demanded to see your identification. How would you react?"
Kent looked to Karyn. They both exchanged glances before turning back to Ryak, preparing to give him a response. "Here," Kent said as he handed over the identification prepared by Starfleet Intelligence.
Sullax rolled his eyes and snatched the identification out of the Human's hands. "NO!"
Peterson's brow furrowed in reaction to the Romulan's response, but was hidden somewhat by the distinctly Romulan ridge that Doctor Pulaski had surgically added to his face. Karyn, standing beside him, looked a little concerned since Sullax was passionate, but tended to guard his feelings more closely - at least that was how he was on the Galaxy.
"Look," the Romulan lieutenant commander said, his tone now a little more relaxed, "you are both Romulan intelligence officers, members of the elite Tal Shiar. You do not need to answer to the military. The military is your puppet and you should treat them like an animal on a leash. If you are pulled over by a military officer you need to tug on that leash and put them in line. Let's try this again, shall we."
"If I were a Romulan naval officer and I walked up to you," Sullax said, trying to recreate the situation they were presented with before he lost his temper, "and demanded to see your identification. How would you react?"
"We are members of the Tal Shiar," Karyn said, finding it awkward to sound angry, "We don't need to answer to you."
"Step aside or you will be punished," Kent added, "along with your family."
Sullax suppressed a smile. "Better. You will need to work on that if you are to pull it off a little more convincingly, but that is definitely much better."
Vice-admiral T'Paal, having watch the display, walked over to the Romulan mission specialist and stopped. Giving the four Starfleet officers a glance, she turned to Sullax. "Your analysis, Mister Sullax. Do you believe they will be able to achieve the goals of this mission?"
Ryak looked to the Vulcan woman, emulating her stoic disposition. "They should suffice. Given that they get in to their personas a little more readily."
T'Paal walked over to the observation wind
ow and looked out at the star they were approaching. "We shall be arriving in the Barolian system in approximately thirty minutes," she said. Turning around she looked at the four officers she had reassigned from the Starship Galaxy, and added, "It is logical, considering the nature between the Romulans and the Barolians, that you maintain your distance from the crewmembers of the freighter. That should allow you sufficient time to continue your practice."
"Indeed," Ryak commented. "The Barolians had long since had a trade agreement with the Romulan Empire. While they are neither allied with the Federation or Romulans, they will maintain a discrete distance from you and you should from them."
"Agreed," T'Paal commented, adding her support to Sullax's assessment of the situation. "It would be logical not to draw unnecessary attention to yourselves."
"This your first real test before arriving on Romulus."
*** Thirty minutes later ***
The transport room was quiet as the entourage of the Vulcan vice-admiral, her Romulan mission specialist, and their four 'Romulan' guests arrived in preparation for transport. The transporter room itself had been cleared, along with the corridors they navigated from their quarters, and the transport chief normally on duty had been given the hour off for 'diagnostics'.
T'Paal raised her hand to Captain Price and gave him a traditional Vulcan greeting. "We wish you well. Peace and prosperity, Captain," she said, showing the first sign of 'concern' for the well-being of the officers themselves.
Lee raised his hand as well. "Live long and prosper."
"Sir," Sullax said, trying hard to make it sound as though there was a chance his former commanding officer might not return, "good luck."
"Will do 'mate," Lee said.
With that the four 'Romulan' officers - military and intelligence - stepped up to the transporter pad. Verifying visual that all four were ready to transport over to the Barolian freighter, Vice-admiral T'Paal turned to Lieutenant Commander Sullax, giving him an opening to add any last minute advice.
Having said everything he had to say he raised his clinched fist and saluted them in a traditional Romulan manner. The four saluted in the same fashion. Satisfied that they were as ready as they could be, Ryak walked over to the transport controls and began the transport cycle.
*** A few moments later ***
The four Romulan officer materialized on board the Bridge of the Barolian freighter. The Barolian captain, a seemingly older man, walked over and saluted the officers in a manner that they were accustomed to. "It is our pleasure to be of service to the Empire," he said as his first officer and chief engineer joined him.
The chief engineer gave them all a once over, as did the first officer, but none of them were willing to say anything without the their captain's approval. It was simply the way of things.
"I am Palteth," Price said as the three Barolians stood around them, watching and waiting for some indication of why the Empire required their service. "This Jarol, Galathon, and Mirok."
"Is it usual for Federation starships to be ferrying around Romulan officers, Commander," the chief engineer finally spoke out.
The Barolian captain glared over at the engineer for speaking out of line. While he too was curious as to the reason why the Starship Prospero was carrying the four, he was smart enough not to say anything or ask any questions. He cleared his throat. "What my chief engineer meant to say," he began before Sub-commander Mirok interrupted.
"Our vessel's navigational array malfunction and we crashed on a the Federation side of the Neutral Zone, near the planet Betazed," Elaithin explained, delivering the reason invented by Starfleet Intelligence rather convincingly. "After our recent good tidings with the Federation, they have agreed to transport us to your vessel so that we may return home, to Romulus."
"Of course," the Barolian captain said. "Our manners, yes? Being alone in space for the better part of the year, we tend to forget our manners. I am Daman, captain of the freighter, M'Ran. This is my first officer, Nar, and my chief engineer, Doorn. Of course, we have already prepared quarters for you near the aft of the ship. Doorn needs to return to Engineering, so if you have no objections, perhaps he, instead of I, can escort you there."
"That would be acceptable," Karyn said, using her cover as a Tal Shiar agent to put in her two cents.
The four Romulans followed Doorn, the M'Ran's chief engineer, off the Bridge and in to one of the corridors which led to a turbolift. As they disappeared from sight and out of earshot, Daman turned to his first officer. "I hate it when the Romulans ask us to move things. It was like that cargo run a two years ago ... I can't wait for this to be over."
"Me too, sir," Nar remarked. "What is the Breen say ... never turn your back on a Romulan."
OOC: Just prior to Rebecca's promotion.
"One step closer to Damnation"
Joint Post with
Commander Chris Thomas
and
Lieutenant Rebecca von Ersnt
DECK 5
Rebecca had been busily putting the final touches on her latest cross-stitching endeavor when the call came through from Commander Thomas.
Blinking in surprise for several moments at the unexpected summons to the XO's Duty Office, the young Department Chief attempted to dredge up anything she may have done in recent days to get in trouble. It was no secret that the surly First Officer was no fan of the Galaxy's tiniest Senior Officer, and his formal summons made for an ominous situation.
Biting her lower lip in worry, and gingerly setting aside her sewing, Rebecca quickly scrounged up a serviceable uniform from the top of the laundry heap, and gave it an appraising sniff.
~~~Not too bad.~~~ the notoriously messy girl decided before pulling it on over the shorts and T-shirt she had been lounging in.
Some more digging in her bedroom dresser revealed a double set of Lieutenant's 'pips' that she quickly pinned into place before giving herself a hurried glance in the mirror.
~~~Yikes..Uniform wrinkled, and slightly smelly..hair a big red tangle, and some scratches on one of the 'pips'..The Commander is sure to be pleased.~~~ Fretting over her appearance for a bit longer, Rebecca eventually settled for a simple white ribbon to pull back her frizzy hair, and squirted a few spritzes of perfume onto the old uniform hoping to disguise its 'laundry-bound' status.
Never one for Perfume, or make-up, this was the first time she actually made use of the small bottle that had been a present from her mother.
~~~You're a lifesaver Momma.~~~ she mused as she gave the vial an experimental sniff. ~~~I hope the Commander isn't allergic to Lilacs...~~~
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Commander Thomas has decided to have the chief tactical officer come to his office rather then to visit her for this news. The captain's decision to make Lt. von Ernst the ship's new second officer was something that he protested. However he didn't have to say much to realize the captain's decision wasn't going to change, unfortunately.
His primary objection was that she lacked the experience to hold the position. She was a competent officer, but the fact of the matter was that she lacked the needed experience be the ship's second officer. Chris has placed his objection of the captain's decision in the first officer's log book and his own log book. The decision was the responsibility of the first officer to ensure that all aspects of ship's operations continued without serious interuption.
The real problem was that given the captain's stance on this decision, anything that went wrong wouldn't be the lt.'s fault, but his fault. This was why chose to make sure his objection and reasons why were logged in case they might become needed in the future. Though he did wonder just how long he and the new captain would remain on friendly terms.
He was now faced with the task of training Lt. von Ernst in the role of serving as the ship's second officer.
"Lt. von Ernst." Commander Thomas said greeting her upon arrival.
Nervous as always, the young officer seemed to skitter into the office rather than walk normally. The impression she gave Thomas was of a quirky little ferret, always ready to jump out of its skin. "S.s.sir" she acknowledged softly.
"Thank you for coming," Chris said. "I am sure you're wondering why I called you here."
A non-committal shrug was her only response.
"Please have a seat Lt. you're going to love this one." Chris said.
There was the briefest of pauses, as Rebecca considered the various chairs in the room, deciding which one had the lesser chance of swallowing her whole. Selecting a hard-backed antique, she scampered aboard and perched neatly on the edge.
"Captain Brhode has decided to promote you to the ship's second officer's position effective immediately." Commander Thomas said as he dropped the bombshell and waited for her reaction.
A blink.
Another blink.
By the time the third blink arrived, Thomas could swear he could hear the wheels turning in her head. "Speak freely Lieutenant." He encouraged.
The little Redhead open and closed her mouth for a few seconds before responding in her typicval whispery voice. "Wh..wh..whats a second officer?" she stammered. "What do I have to do?"
"You will be training and learning my job, you'll be the equivalent of my first officer, if I were to be the captain." Chris said. "Impart you're essential your role and responsibilities are to learn mine. You'll cover for me on any away missions or you may be assigned to lead an away mission yourself." Commander Thomas said. "You're going to have to learn what it took me years to learn in a few days, if you were an android you could assimilate the information, but you're not."
Rebecca's eyes widened at Thomas's explanation, gulping down a particularly large lump in her throat. All sorts of issues raised themselves. The most apparent was: "W.what about rank? H..how can I give an order to a Lt. Commander, or anybody else with s..s..seniority?"
Chris wasn't sure just how to answer the question immediately. "Well that's the funny thing about holding the position or title of First or in this case Second Officer. It means that you out rank everyone on the ship, expect myself and the captain. However outside the USS Galaxy it means nothing, expect that you've got a title besides being a department chief buys you nothing beyond the walls of the ship." Commander Thomas said. "I will also have to provide you with command level authorization codes, however until we cover a number subjects I am by my choice, going to limit those command codes for now." Chris said.
At length Rebecca averted her eyes downwards and considered an invisible spot on the carpet. "I..I..don't have much of a choice do I? I..I..I'm going to be stuck with this Command stuff no matter what? I 'm doomed to be nothing more than some Admiral's weapon. " she was speaking more to herself than to Thomas. The Commander represented perhaps her #1 critic aboard the Galaxy, and it hadn't been her intention to spill her mind in his presence.
"Correct and I am afraid not Lt." Chris started off, "Which also means we're going to spend 1 to 2 hours or more each day either here in my office or on the holodeck going over and preparing you for the position of second officer. You've got a lot to learn and a very short amount of time I am afraid to say. If something happens and you're not ready to handle it, I already know it won't be considered your fault, but mine regardless of circumstances."
Rebecca nodded without even knowing why. Her head was whirling with all sorts of 'icky' possibilities and the head 'bob was merely an unconscious way of appearing to pay attention.
Command!
Or very nearly so. The awesome destiny that seemed to haunt her since her days at the Academy was looming ever closer on the horizon, and it seemed the was nothing she..or even intensely disapproving officers like Thomas could do to stop it.
It was like Rebecca was some force of nature that could be predicted but not stopped. A disaster that while easily discernable was entirely unavoidable.
Glumy she took mental notes regarding Thomas's explanation of her scheduled holodeck times, training sessions, and Bridge duties. Training training training. It seemed to be the story of her life for the last few years, and she had learned to accept it as an unavoidable reality.
Only when Thomas keyed in and authorized her vocal Command Codes did the gravity of the situation hit her.
Not only was Rebecca a part of the chain of Command, but she was possessed one third of the secret formula for the Self-Destruction of the Starship Galaxy.
[PLEASE INPUT SELF DESTRUCT AUTHORIZATION] the computer might say at some future date, to which Rebecca would reply, "Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst, Second Officer..Destruct sequence 3. Code Rebecca Boom boom boom." (Thomas frowned at the choice of codes)
After which 1000 people would die in a nova of Antimatter fury.
Command.
Rebecca sighed. She was one step closer to becoming the monster that deep down in side she knew she was.
"New Protocal and Disagreement"
by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder
Ethan wondered around Engineering. Things were relatively quiet. Not one single officer was speaking. A lot of the crew seemed kind of down. He didn't like seeing them like that. The new Captain's way of working made actual work seem like a real hard job. Sure Engineering was hard work, but the Engineers did it with a smile. It's what they lived for. But now it had all changed. It was now just a job. Not a fun job.
"Chief?" Cadet Jason called out from a quiet corner.
Ethan strolled over to the Cadet and leaned against the console.
"Something has to be done about this, Chief. The atmosphere here is terrible. How can we work like this?" he asked.
"What do you suggest we do?" Ethan asked looking around Engineering again.
""I don't know. I just the miss Captain Price's way of doing things is all."
"We all do, Cadet. Unfortunately, every Captain is different. Changing ships is hard. He has to get the respect of the crew, that is something that takes time. He has to do what he thinks is right with the ship. It would be good if he got some ideas from the crew though, hell, even the senior officers."
"So he just comes onboard, changes everything without saying anything to anyone. What a guy." the Cadet said.
"It'll be tough on us all, but we'll get through this. We'll get use to his way of thinking and working, he'll get use to ours." Ethan replied.
"He's just changed protocal on the holodecks." Ensign Garcia called out from the second level.
Ethan looked up at her with a raised eye brow.
"Seems he thinks were some sort of soft touch or something." Garcia said. "Each officer gets one hour a week in the holodeck, with the exception of ship drills I imagine."
"The holodecks? One hour a week?" the Cadet said.
Ethan shook his head and sighed. "Well, it'll get the crew back in shape."
"What do you mean?" Lieutenant Gillings asked as he joined the small crowd.
"During the war, everyone knew their place. It was a hard couple of years. But a lot of the crew that have joined since the war, have just come from the Academy. All they know is soft beds, holodecks, socialising and their work. Granted some of them have been in combat situations and other crisis', but a lot of them need to be ready for anything. Our new Captain might be able to get that into their heads. I'm not saying I agree with the way he's doing things, he doesn't have to be so uptight about it."
"Well this job now sucks." Garcia replied.
Ethan gave a slight chuckle. Most of the Engineers weren't too happy about what was going on, but what could he do about it? "I know a lot of you don't like the way he
's doing things. I don't either. But we have to remember that he's the new Captain. We do what's best for Starfleet. If anyone has a problem with the way things are going, I suggest you send me a note, a message, a greivance, a report, whatever. I'll be sure to pass it along with my own opinions. Although don't expect it to change anything." Ethan explained.
"I might just do that." Lieutenant Gillings replied.
"Well, lets see what else happens shall we?" Ethan asked heading back towards his office to brood. It was really going to take some work to get use to the new Captain. But Ethan knew his crew would. The Engineers at the end of the day, would do their jobs.
"Heads are gonna roll..."
With Captain Brhode and unauthorized appearences by the bridge crew.
(Opening snippit from Chris's "Launch the Shuttles")
Time:Just after the shuttles have been launched to survey the Mako Nebula Location: Bridge, USS Galaxy
"Captain I am happy to report that we're now underway to map the Mako Nebula. We should enter the nebula in five minutes, sir." Chris said turning the next phase of the mission over to the captain.
"Excellent, Commander." Brhode said easing himself into the Captain's chair, while scanning the bridge with his steely eyes.
It was more of an unconscious act on his part than anything else. He expected the bridge crew to preform with uttmost professionalism and knew that they would, if only out of fear of being rplaced than anything else.
Yet still his eyes roamed the bridge, like a hawk scanning for prey.
To his right, Commander Thomas sat rather stiffly. Brhode rationalized that the tension between him and his First Officer was due to the rather abrupt change of command and trying to assimilate to a new command style.
For now, he thought, it would be acceptable as long as it didn't interfear with the manner in which the Commander did his duty.
Again his eyes roamed. Lt. Palikia still sat rather lackadasiclly in his seat at the helm. The Captain had spoken with the massiave Hawaiian about it and accepted thier uneasy "truce" of sorts on his posture.
Over at OPS Electra Reese and James Corgan exchanged quiet smiles that almost went unnoticed.
Brhode studied them closer. Thier mannerisms suggested some sort of relationship beyond that of a mere working relationship. He made a mental note to speak with the man at a later date. The bridge of a starship was not the place for two lovers. In the event of an emergency, thier first thoughts tended to be each other rather than the ship itself.
"Captain..." Electra called out, "I'm getting a report I think you should see."
"What is it Lieutennent?" he asked, remaining in his chair.
"Apparently there has been some sort of alteration in the holodecks circitry."
Brhode stiffened as Reese continued.
"Attempts to access result in random jumping and scrambling of account numbers." she said.
All eyes focused on the Captain whose face was begining to show hints of red. His jaw clenched, its mucles visible. His knuckles cracked as his hands tightened into fists.
"Do we have any idea who was responsible for the alteratons, Lieutennent?" he asked icily through gritted teeth.
"N.No sir." she said risking a glance at James who smiled a crooked smile in an attempt to calm her.
"Thank you Lieutennent." Brhode said sharply as he remained where he was seated and stared at the viewscreen in front of him. A long awkward silence blanketed the bridge until finalloy the Captain spoke.
"Number One, I want you to contact O'Grady. Tell her that she has one hour to find whoever was stupid enough to disobey me. If she fails, I will have every holodeck on this ship disassembled and jettesoned into space and she will be replaced as Security Chief."
"Sir, with all due respect..." Thomas started, but the furious Brhode wasn't finished.
"ONE HOUR, COMMANDER!" he shouted, then made a visible effort to control himself. "Tampering with this ship and her systems without expressed permission by a superior officer is an act of sabatoge. Sabatoging a starship is an act of mutiny, and that is exactly what the arrest warrent for this ....officer will read when he or she is taken in restraints to the brig."
Brhode turned to look at Commander Thomas. "I want a head on a silver platter and I want it in one hour."
"Aye, sir." Thomas said moving owards the turbolift.
"Give me a ship wide channel." the Captain ordered.
"Open sir." Reese said with a nod.
"Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Until further notice, the holodecks are off limits to all members of this crew. Apparently some of you onboard felt that it would be cute to not only alter this ships systems, but also test my will. That's just fine. You will be found. And when you are, heads are gonna roll. Anyone else who feels that they need to commit acts of mutiny, move now to the nearest airlock, where you will be purged from this ship! Service on the Galaxy is a privliage! There are thousands of officers who want to be right where you are right now. It can easily be arranged. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOR FROM ANY MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, OR BEAST ON THIS SHIP!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!! Brhode out."
The Captain sat back in his chair so calmly that nobody would even guess at the storm that raged inside the man. Everyone on the bridge looked at one another in awe. They had never seen a display like that from Price. Which was exactly what finally sunk in. Brhode was not Price.
In any way.
"Captain.." Mike Palikia called out from the helm.
"What is it Lieutennent?"
"We are now entering the Mako nebula."
“Movin’ on...from the holodeck”
by Ensign V. Azaria, Security
(Holodeck seven)
"Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Until further notice, the holodecks are off limits to all members of this crew. Apparently some of you onboard felt that it would be cute to not only alter this ships systems, but also test my will. That's just fine. You will be found. And when you are, heads are gonna roll. Anyone else who feels that they need to commit acts of mutiny, move now to the nearest airlock, where you will be purged from this ship! Service on the Galaxy is a privilege! There are thousands of officers who want to be right where you are right now. It can easily be arranged. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOR FROM ANY MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, OR BEAST ON THIS SHIP!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!! Brhode out."
Victor swore loudly and looked at the hologram of Bob Hope, Diane Ross and the whole crew of the USS Saratoga. "Sorry, Bob," he said.
"Man, we should put the Captain in front of the VC. I swear, they’ll surrender by the end of the day"
"Computer, save and end program," Azaria called out and the people faded away. "And I thought that McQueen was bad..." he muttered as he exited the holodeck. He wasn’t the only one. More people were in the corridors, looking like they had seen their drink tabs.
He headed straight to Security, preparing himself for the next shift. Hell, he had known Commodore McQueen when he served on the George W Bush. McQueen was a hard man. Always nagging Victor about his experience as an aviator and always setting an example with him. Still, McQueen had been a good leader and a not too bad human being.
He didn’t know Brhode. He didn’t really care about him. he was his CO, nothing more. Nevertheless, it would be nice with a boss that was a little more...nice. Nice was the keyword here. Nice. "It ain’t a fit night out for man or beast," he said out loud, quoting W.C.Fields. What else could he do in this situation but making jokes? It was all he had left. "Until next payticket," he whispered, realizing at that point that he had been hanging out with Bob Hope one time to many. He was making punchlines. Bad call...
Flight Control Department duty rooster
by Lt. Cmdr Ragnald Gustavson, chief helmsman
from: Lt. Cmdr Gustavson
to: Commander Thomas
copy to: Captain Brhode
As ordered I adapted my department's duty rooster to the new shift time table. As you know Lt. (jg) Grant-Wellington and Ensign Remmington volonteered to pilot the shuttles so I had to temporarily drop both from the shift plan.
FLIGHT CONTROL SCHEDULE - USS GALAXY
Alpha (0900h - 1730h)
-- Lt.Commander Ragnald Gustavson, Chief Flight Control Officer
Ensign Matt Taggart (NPC)
Beta (1700h - 0130h)
-- Lt. jg Mikala (Mike) Pailaka
Ensign Grubb'r Frunchmic (NPC)
Gamma (0100h - 0930h)
Ensign Emilia Kolrami (NPC)
Ensign Todd Loomis (NPC)
Additionally I'd like to inform you that with my next command training shift there will be 16 hours non-stop duty stints for me and for other officers conducting CTSs. I'm concerned this may have a significant influence on work during Alpha shift.
"Thoughts in Passing"
Lt. j/g Brian Elessidil
Counselor
[OOC: Takes place shortly before the launch of the shuttle missions.]
It was 0:900 and Counselor Elessidil's shift had just ended. It had been a long day and it didn't look like it was going to end anytime soon. He had very little time before he had to report to the shuttle bay to begin the mission at the rim of the Mako Nebula but there was something rather important he had to look into first.
Many thoughts crowded Brian's mind as he made his way from the counseling suite. He was still trying to absorb everything he was thinking and feeling since his conversation with her the day before. He was also still thinking about the new captain and the changes he was making onboard. How were they going to impact the crew and their morale? Would they in the end be for better or worse and did it even matter? After all, orders were orders, weren't they? And if the CO issued an order, then that's what was best -- at least for the moment.
Not really believing that thought, Brian's shifted his focus to the shuttle mission. It had been awhile since he'd been actively involved as a pilot and he was a little nervous about this mission. And now that he had a chance to reflect a little, he was concerned about being off the ship while there were questions -- even if only in his own mind -- about what was happening to the crew's morale in the wake of the changes in command structure.
Before Karyn left she specifically assigned him the duty of ensuring there was enough going on to provide some diversion for the crew during the mission in the nebula. He had done some checking around and heard about the postponement of the 'Romeo and Juliet' production. He had also heard about various other activities such as impromptu card games, holodeck activities and the potential formation of a musical group in which he himself had been interested.
But things were changing. Holodeck time was being rationed. The popular bartender in ten forward was no longer there. Tensions were building between many among the crew, tensions that were more likely to drive people apart than to bring them together.
And he feared the changes weren't over yet.
Beginning to feel overwhelmed by his concerns and second-guessing his decision to volunteer for the shuttle mission, Brian decided he needed to pull himself together. He based his decision to participate in this mission on good reasoning: there was value in having a counselor out there and he was the best person to be there under the circumstances. Mike had given his approval. Brian only hoped that Karyn would have understood, had she been there.
And there was still one other person he wanted to talk to about this and he was at the moment on his way to see her. Ironically however, he knew that his reason for seeing her wasn't to talk about what was going through his mind; it was to see what was going through hers. Brian hadn't known Shinta all that long yet but he knew enough to be sure that being passed up as Chief Counselor wasn't going to set well with her. Before he left on the shuttle mission, he was going to at least try to see how she was handling it.
A small knot was growing in his stomach. Counseling a counselor was usually the most challenging task of all -- especially when that counselor was someone like Navarre-Maxwell Shinta.
"Fun and games in the brig."
by Lt.jg. Alia Drakely - security.
"Anchor." The ensign said from his cell.
The small ball bounced off the floor, hit the wall and flew back to Alia's hands before she threw it again at the floor, where it bounced to the wall and back to Alia. She had been doing it constantly for half an hour now.
"Boat." She shot back at the man sitting in the brig, Alia's eyes not leaving her tennis ball as she threw it and caught it.
"Captain."
Alia smiled - Behave yourself Alia..."Dictator."
"Enemy."
"That's a bit vague isn't it?" Alia asked, still never stopping with her throwing and catching.
"But it's usually the way." The ensign answered from inside the brig.
"Okay then...Fight."
"Gun."
"Hospital."
The ensign laughed, "Good connection...um....I...."
"Hah!" Alia caught the ball for the final time and turned to look at him with a smile, "Too long. I win."
"So is this how you always pass your time on duty then?" he asked with a laugh.
"No..." Alia chuckled, "But having holodeck time cut back to one hour a week, I need something to keep my mind occupied."
"Don't I know it," he grumbled, "that's why I'm stuck in here. It wasn't my fault you know."
"Well, it never is." Alia got up and started to pace, stretching her arms as she walked.
"I can't believe this new Captain." He continued, following her with his eyes, "First he lengthens the shifts, and then he cuts back our relaxation time in the holodeck." He suddenly laughed and said with mock appeal, "This is starfleet - not a prison."
Alia smiled at him, "Well it may as well be for you at the moment." She replied good-naturedly. "But I know what you mean." Her smile started to fade.
"And if we're really, really good we'll get holodeck time as a reward and a pat on the head as if we were school children with gold stars."
She stopped and looked at him. He was right. Alia was starting to get rather annoyed at the whole situation, and it seemed as if she wasn't the only one. "Yes. But you should be careful what you say - The Captain's last little announcement made it clear that he's not exactly a tolerant man."
"No, more like a brutal one."
"Now that's not exactly fair. He's probably a very good Captain." Yeah - but that doesn't stop him from being egotistical, self-righteous and on a power trip, she thought to herself before almost immediately rebuking herself for thinking in such a way.
"Yeah - a good Captain who's totally wrecked my anniversary." He said with a dark frown.
"Anniversary?"
"Yeah. I've been married for three years, it was our anniversary yesterday. We were going to celebrate, but we didn't have enough allowance for the holodeck." he shook his head.
"That's awful." Alia responded quietly. "I tell you what, when the restriction is lifted, you can combine my hour with yours and your wife's. Then you can have a a bit longer to celebrate."
He was silent for a moment, "Are you sure? That's a very kind offer, but I don't even know who you are."
"Alia Drakely. And yes I'm sure. I'll see to it when I get off duty." Alia sat back down and violently started throwing the ball against the wall again, "That damned Brhode." She muttered with clipped tones as she shook her head, once again throwing the ball with a considerable amount of force.
"The Case of Holodeck Hell" by
Lt. Cmdr.Rayna Lamar O'Grady
CSecO
Lt.Commander Rayna was getting ready to end her shift when the announcement filled the airways. Rayna cringed when she heard his voice ring out. He sounded so angry and she knew what was coming next. He seemed to her that he was a man of power. Compassion wasn't in his vocabulary. He was very straight forward and didn't take shit from no one, not even his crew. She hadn't really had to deal with Price or Thomas but she had this feeling as the new Chief and being a woman to boot, she was going to deal a lot with him.
What she wasn't expecting was Commander Thomas to contact her. She would have thought that he would do it himself. Commander Thomas told her the bad news. She was not pleased and couldn't figure out exactly how she was going to do this.....
"But sir, an hour? I can't possibly do what you are asking for in an hour...I understand sir...my job is on the line."
After the orders were given, Rayna put her hands on her face then brushed back her bangs. Then she proceeded to hit her forehead on the desk...talking to herself, "An hour? What in the hell is he thinking here? Oh, I know, if I fail, he gets a woman out of the chief position. I hate Male Chauvinist Pigs." She was now, more than ever, out to prove this tyrant that she is just as good as anyone else. She had a problem with this too...a need to prove herself worthy. Hopefully, she wouldn't convert back to her old self.
She called in her staff and told them what was going on, "Okay, we have exactly 55 minutes to figure this out.
Darkstar walked in, "Oh good, you're here. I think that I am going to take this case myself. Darkstar, you go ahead and keep things here going okay. Looks like I am going to be working overtime. Ensign Boggs, you're with me."
He followed her out, "Where to first?" She turned to him, "It was originally executed in the Captain's readyroom. Let's check things out there first." They arrived at the bridge and walked on pass the new Captain, "Sir, I hope you don't mind but we need to check your computer terminal." He nodded and she started for his readyroom. Boggs stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Rayna whispered to Boggs, "Let's go." Boggs, not realizing that he was staring, got really nervous, "I'm with her, uh, yeah, carry on." Rayna rolled her eyes as she mumbled under her breath, "And he is in Security. :::sigh:::.
Upon examination, she could see that all of the chips were in its place, nothing was switched or replaced. "Let's go back, I need to check the optical digital network logs and see what I can find."
She figured that this had to have happened right after the orders were given by the new Captain. Checking the logs, there was an interesting discovery, "Computer, from the optical digital network logs, list all computer terminals that were active at 1300 hours today." It brought up several but the readyroom wasn't one of them.
"Computer, display all downloaded programs at 1300 hours." Again, it was displayed. She noticed that Nikki's was in there, "Well, that little shit." Fortunately for her, it wasn't the program she was looking for.
"Okay, computer, out of those listed, which are random BBS programs." It beeped in compliance. She looked and was disappointed. It showed all of the same except for about two. Rayna sighed again and noticed that Boggs was breathing down her neck, "Do you mind? Go see if Darkstar needs any help." Boggs moped away "Computer, let's take a different approach." Computer didn't like her comment, "Please restate your request." Rayna wanted to hit her terminal, "Check the data base for any subspace activity prior to today." It was revealed that 6 months ago, Lt. Kira Murphy had downloaded such a program.
"Computer, go back to the optical digital network logs and pull up Lt. Murphy's terminal."
"Optical digital network logs show that Lt. Murphy's computer terminal was active." She was a little confused now, "Computer, list all active terminal ID's...why isn't it showing her ID?" Computer gave it's usual reply.
Rayna smiled, "I have you now chickeepoo."
She walked over to Darkstar, "Looks like we are going to get to arrest someone...a Lt. Murphy." She looked around at who had nothing to do, "You and you come with me." They found Murphy and arrested her on the spot, "You are under arrest..suspicion of unauthorized tampering of Starfleet equipment." She looked at one of her guards, take her to the brig. I'm going to her quarters and search her terminal records." They took her away, "O'Grady to Darkstar, have two more security guards meet me in Lt. Murphy's quarters."
She waked in and started to check her terminal and all records. She had a field day. She found a copy of the suspected program and wondered who else had this program. Further research found her to be the only one. That just made her day. She gathered the proof of her guilt and smiled. "There it is, your ticket to a big beautiful stay in the brig and a little gathering of your shipmates. Gee, i haven't seen a court martial on this ship in a long time." Rayna had this bad habit of talking to herself. The guards watching her, knew it so they didn't answer her. "Okay gentlemen, I think it is just about over. Let's go enter this into the ship's logs and send the report to our very lovable new Captain.
Rayna looked at the time. She had ten minutes to get it to him before her time was up. She wasn't about to screw this one up...her job depended on it.
She quickly ran back to security, logged in her findings and sent it to the Captain in his readyroom, "O'Grady to Brhode. I have found the culprit and I have sent you the report plus evidence found. Lt. Murphy isn't going to wiggle herself out of this one...sir."
Meanwhile, Murphy was in the brig and being questioned by Lt. Drakely and Darkstar.
"Boxing with Shadows"
By Lieutenant Electra Reece
Chief Operations Officer
Time: Somewhere in the midst of the first day in the nebula after "Heads are gonna roll..."
Lexa walked into the filled gym and over to the boxing equipment. She pulled on a pair of gloves and stood before the large hanging punching bag.
She looked at it and visualized the new captain's face. Pulling back her arm, she let fly with the beautifully powerful right she had used on James' ex-girlfriend. She followed with a stinging left to the midsection and a right upper cut. "Bastard," she grunted under her breath. "Think you're the best, we're scum," her hands made quick jabs to the low region (where his crotch would be).
"Don't like women in Starfleet," she murmured as her left arm struck the bag with such force that it swung back significantly.
"Treat us like kids," her leg came up and around hitting the side of the bag. "Don't listen to people," her left connected with two stinging hits to the "head". "Arrrrrgh!" She let loose a string of a dozen powerful hits to the crotch. As she stepped back from the bag and turned around she blushed to see everyone in the gym staring at her. She bit her lip and they began clapping and one chanted, "Lexa the Legendary!!!"
A man in a fencing outfit complete with mask walked up to her. "Seeing the new leader?" She nodded. "Popular past time today." She chuckled.
"I'll bet it is. And we can't go to the holo-deck to work out our frustrations."
The man smiled. "Nope. We're stuck here. No safeties." He looked her up and down. His head jerked towards the crowd behind him. "I hear you're a pretty good fighter. Ever tried boxing against someone?" She shook her head.
"Never any real boxing, just a -- um -- brawl, I guess you could say."
"Yeah and she kicked ass!! Kicked some Starfleet Intelligence ass!" shouted the chanter from earlier.
The man's eyebrows raised. "Never would have thought it. You seem so ..."
"Timid?"
"Kind of. Wish I'd seen that, though." Smiling and shaking his head, he left the room leaving her shaking her head and wondering who he was. Pushing her hair out of her face, she shrugged it off and began running laps around the room.
"O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!"
by Counselor Brian Elessidil and Lt.jg. Alia Drakely.
Alia let out a cry of anguish.
She quickly sat up in bed and had to really fight to get her breathing back to a manageable level. She wiped the moisture from her face, a combination of both sweat and tears and sat stationary for a few long moments, recovering from her nightmare. She hugged her knees in an effort to still the tremors that ran through her body.
After regaining some semblance of her composure she angrily threw the sheets away from her and got up to pace her room. She lectured herself - That is what happens when you allow yourself to sleep, to slip into a false sense of security that allows you to imagine that for once, just once you may be able to enjoy oblivion in sleep. What a fool she was to think that the nightmares wouldn't come tonight despite the fact they plagued her practically every other time she allowed herself to actually sleep. She would never get back to sleep now, but dear God how she needed that damned thing known as sleep!
She looked at her options. She immediately discounted her friends. And she refused to go to sickbay - she shivered at the mere thought, she was in a bad enough state as it was, without having to go to that terrifying place and make it ten times worse. So there was only one option left - the counseling department. She hated the idea, but she had to do something, and they wouldn't ask any prying questions just because she couldn't sleep - right?
She threw on some clothes and with one hand going up to massage her neck and the other her temple, she left her quarters at a near sprint.
*******
She arrived at the counseling department and stepped into the room a little warily, "Hello?"
It was Counselor Elessidil who was on duty for members of the security crew.
"Um...hi, Counselor. This is probably kind of weird...but I was wondering...well...you see...I didn't want to go to the sickbay...but I'm really sorry for bothering you." Alia had pulled herself up to her full height, standing with a military style stance with her hands clasped behind her back. However, her hands were only clutched tightly together in an attempt to still the slight tremor that still ran through her.
Brian stepped from around his desk to greet the somewhat nervous Lieutenant standing before him. Smiling, he extended his hand, "Not at all, Lieutenant. I'm Brian, Brian Elessidil. Please make yourself comfortable." He gestured to a comfortable-looking sofa to his right. He could sense she was troubled and uneasy at being there but he avoided probing any further for now.
"You look a little upset; can I get you something to drink, Lieutenant . . . uh, Lieutenant . . .?" he asked, waiting for her to provide him with something by which to call her other than her rank.
She took a seat rather hesitantly, not having originally intended to stay long enough to get settled. Her name - that she could tell him without difficulty, she thought with some attempt to be positive. "Drakely. Alia Drakely," she said to Brian with a somewhat half-hearted smile, "Yes, a drink would be good...very good, thank you. Anything will do." A shame it can't be alcoholic - and strong, she continued to herself in her thoughts.
Brian chuckled a little as he started towards the replicator; he couldn't help but pick up on her thought. Knowing that some people weren't always comfortable with a Betazoid counselor, Brian thought a little humor might provide a good opportunity to let Lt. Drakely know in a non-threatening way what she was dealing with.
Turning back toward her he mock-whispered, "It is a shame sometimes -- I make a hell of a Long Island Iced Tea," and followed it up with a little wink.
Her eyes widened for a moment and she blinked at him, "How did you..." Then she realised, "Oh!" she exclaimed. She felt a little uneasy, but then she pointed out to herself that he had been nice enough so far, and what in the universe would he want to go and look around in her head for anyway, all she wanted was to sleep, it wasn't as if they would have to go into any deep stuff - she hoped. She had managed all her life to get away with the minimal requirement of contact with counselors, why should she worry now because she had come to one just for a suggestion on how to relax? However, she still asked with an uncertain voice, "So, you can...look through my mind then?"
'Oops' Brian thought to himself, thinking that perhaps he had been a little too flip with his revelation.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Drakely, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Betazoid so in a way, yes, I can 'look through your mind' but I would never, ever do that. I did however, want to make sure you knew about me so that you wouldn't be surprised later; some people aren't at ease around Betazoids -- especially Betazoid counselors. Maybe I should have been more professional in my approach." Brian smiled and added, "If you think you'd be more comfortable with another counselor please feel free to say so and I will make sure you can talk with someone immediately.
"Oh no, no, no!" she hurriedly said, worried that she had offended him now, "If you'd of just come out and told me, you'd have scared me to death and would have been out that door." she let out a nervous laugh, "I must confess, the whole telepathic thing does unsettle me a little, but I meant no offence," she hastily tried to assure him. "And please, call me Alia, I feel like I'm in trouble or being summoned when people call me by my last name." her thumb started to tap against her hand, but damn it - why couldn't she stop that damned tremor!
Brian smiled again, "Ok, Alia. Let me get you something to help soothe you a little and then we can talk." He resumed his way to the replicator and in only a few seconds was back with a nice-sized mug of steaming something. Handing her the mug, he had already begun trying to calm the still trembling woman with just his voice. "Here you are, Alia. It's something I call '3VT'; basically, just a blend of verbena, vanilla and valerian root. I drink it whenever I'm having difficulty sleeping. And if that doesn't do the trick, I make '4VT', which is the same recipe plus a little vodka," he added slyly, slipping back into his more humorous side.
"Oh, and one more thing," he added as he sat down, "computer, play some soft acoustic guitar music please, late 20th-century Earth, your choice." As the music began, Brian chuckled very lightly and added, "Ok, now that we're through the initial pleasantries, why don't you tell me what brought you here?"
"A Cry in the Dark"
BRIDGE
Rebecca was still dressed in her slightly smelly work-out clothes when she limped onto the bridge a half-hour later.
Lt. (j/g) Zarides was covering the main Tactical arch as a favor for her smaller Chief in order to allow Rebecca time to wade through some of the mountain of paperwork that had collected seemingly overnight. The sudden promotion to Second officer had not come without its accompanying swarm of forms and reports that Chris Thomas had seen fit to deposit upon her fragile shoulders.
Like it or not, the entire Tactical Department was going have to tighten their belts and wing it alone for awhile while their skittish Chief came to grips with the realities of her latest endeavors.
The tall Bajoran Zarides nodded slightly to Rebecca as she limped over. She didn't really like the redhead, but it didn't necessarily mean she enjoyed seeing her in discomfort. The Prophets only knew that Alexa had plenty of her own bumps and bruises from the famous Morning PT sessions with Heather Sanchez.
Recently since the departure of Price and his entourage, the Latina Security officer had seemed even more grumpy and upset, and the results were beginning to show up in the form of twisted ankles, shin splints, and contusions.
"Chief." Zarides nodded again as Rebecca pulled up next to her to discuss a random piece of departmental paperwork. Rebecca's PADD scrolled down through some equipment modifications that Zarides had overseen the week before. Apparently there were some mix ups in explaining to the Main Computer exactly WHAT had been done to WHICH piece of equipment, so Rebecca had stopped by to clear things up.
The Two women talked softly as the Galaxy glided smoothly through the radioactive clouds of the Mako Nebula. The rest of the bridge crew dutifully went about their respective tasks with a minimal amount of chatter.
Captain John Brhode was not one for idle banter in the nerve center of his ship, and so the usual bubbly enthusiasm that would have accompanied the scientific assignment was quickly squelched by his stern-eyed gaze of disapproval.
Twisting slightly in his chair, he peered over his shoulder to watch the two Tactical officers whispering behind his back, but the conversation did seem to be of an official nature so he let it pass without comment. Brohde was a hard man but not an unreasonable one. He laid down certain expectations of behavior and performance, and so long as they were adhered to there wouldn't be trouble. He demanded the best from his crew...but he would also GIVE the best in return.
Brohde smiled inwardly a bit. It would take them a while to learn that. A hard ass gets better results in stressful circumstances. Leaving the officers to their schematics he returned his attention the colorful dance of radiation on the forward viewer.
"....so when we figured the Phaser focussing plates wouldn't stand up to the Nebula radiation we had to coat the receptors with a nano-polymer super-resistor." Zarides pointed out the specified modification on Rebecca's PADD, "The coating wasn't easy to implement and we may have fused some of the connecting circuits here...and here by accident. That may be why the Computer cant get access."
Rebecca brushed a strand of red hair out of her hair and nodded. "O.okay.I see. Ummm.I don think that looks too d..difficult to correct." She tapped in a few equations into the PADD. "I.if we can get a team up there to polish the plates down a little neater..That's it."
Zarides examined the new display and nodded, "Right Ma'am. We'll have to shut down power to the Ventral Phaser strip on the Starboard side while the..."
[BLEEP BLEEP]
The sudden chirping from the Tactical COMM Panel interrupted whatever else Zarides was going to say, and even Captain Brohde turned again to consider his subordinates.
"Lieutenant Report." He demanded of Rebecca, ignoring the fact that Zarides was actually the officer on duty.
Gulping and intsatantly regretting the fact that her prized barstool was missing during the taller woman's shift, Rebecca painfully stood on her tip toes and keyed into the External Comm Circuits. Her ankle twinged painfully, but she bit her lip against a yelp. "Uh...r..receiving external transmission on the Subspace bands sir. Difficult to localize and..uh.r..r.rather diffuse in its focus." Rebecca shrugged slightly and glanced at Zarides who nodded her agreement. "It some sort of signal, but I don't think we're the intended recipient sir."
Brohde took Rebecca's report and considered it quickly. "A diffuse comm transmission? Is this due to the nebula's interference or is it a broad band Comm to begin with?"
A few silent moments of Rebecca working the LCARS followed, with Zarides dutifully taking the harder to reach buttons before the two reached a consensus. "B.b.both sir. The actual signal is degraded and unreadable, but i.i..its form indicates some sort of commercial distress beacon. The omni-directional nature of the call plus the Radiation levels would seem to account for its hazy reception quality."
"A distress beacon?" Brohde sat up straighter. "Location Lieutenant. Give me a Parallex reading."
More quick computations aided by Rebecca's mental equations produced the result.
"One point six light years distant sir...or..roughly so." The radiation field makes exact readings difficult.
Nodding curtly Brohde turned back to the viewer and put the ship into action. "Very well. Sound General Quarters. Commander Quevverson" he ordered the Science officer, "Cease all Studies of the Nebula. Lieutenant Reese, divert Scientific resources back to propulsion and weapons. Lieutenant von Ernst, fix your little problem with my phasers ASAP and get this ship on a combat footing. We don't know what's out there."
Turning to Lt. Commander Gustavson he then said: "I don't believe in pussy-footing around in an Emergency. Helm lay in an intercept course for signal source Warp 9. Take us into Harms way Mister."
Not a few eyebrows shot up at that. Zipping around at such breakneck speeds were not common, and was in itself rather risky.
Still...
The crew leapt to obey, and like a shot, the Galaxy was off sceaming into the darkness in search of the cry for help.
"New Command Shift Rotation"
by Commander Chris Thomas - First Officer USS Galaxy
Chris was given the task of coming up with a new command watch rotation, using the three shift rotation. Which he would openly admit was a challenge, but he would make it happen.
Here is the Command watch for the bridge. Each watch will now consist of the following command bridge/duty watch officer and an assistant bridge/duty watch officer. This has been applied to all three shifts.
~~~~~
Alpha - 9:00 to 17:30
- Captain Brhode [Commanding Officer]
- Commander Christopher Kell Thomas [Executive Officer]
~~~~~
Beta - 17:00 to 01:30 (note 2) (each set is 1 day.)
- Lt Rebecca von Ernst [Chief Tactical Officer/Second Officer]
- Lieutenant Electra Reece [Chief Operations Officer]
- Lt. Commander Ethan Suder [Chief Engineer]
- Lt j/g Lysander Van der Puls-Hawksley [Tactical Officer]
- Lt. Commander James Mitchell [Chief Science Officer]
- Lt. jg Seth Zonhieb [Security Officer]
Backup if conditions warrant.
- Commander Christopher Kell Thomas [Executive Officer]
~~~~~
Gamma - 01:00 to 9:30 (note 2) (each set is 1 day.)
- Lt. Commander T'Zaq [Ast. Chief Engineer]
- Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan [Assistant Chief Operations Officer]
- Lt. Commander Ragnald Gustavson [Chief Flight Control Officer]
- Lt. Michael McDowell [Engineer]
- Lt. Commander Rayna O'Grady {Chief Security Officer]
- Lt. jg Mikala (Mike) Pailaka [Flight Control Officer]
- Lt. Commander Raven Darkstar [Security Officer]
- Lieutenant Commander Michael S O'Grady [Chief Counselor]
Backup if conditions warrant.
- Commander Christopher Kell Thomas [Executive Officer]
==================================
Note 1: Gamma and Delta shifts are considered command training shifts. The noted officers serve that shift on a rotating basis in addition to their regular duty shift assignment. Some officers like command duty, others complain about having to serve double shifts.
Note 2: All bridge watch rotations will consist of bridge/duty watch officer and an assistant bridge/duty watch officer.
==================================
Commander Thomas placed the rotation in a more readible format. This would allow everyone on the chance to continue working the bridge watch, increase coverage of the bridge for training officer. Most importantly no officer would serve back to back watches. They also would only serve 2 double duty shifts on either a 3 or 4 day rollover. Only on beta shift did he limit the number to command bridge/duty watch officer.
The Captain wanted a new 3 shift rotation and he wasn't going to be on bridge watch any more so he was breaking it up to give more officers the chance to grow their experience on the ship. At the same time ensure they got enough rest for their regular duty shift.
The captain could kiss his ass if he didn't like the new rotation!
Chris felt the new rotation maximized the use of the talented officers on the ship and would give them the chance to show there stuff. When he looked over it again he couldn't believe he'd put that name on the list, but he felt it would give the captain something to think about before saying no to the new rotation. When looking into some interesting read he'd learned a few things and was interested in seeing just how true it was as Captain Brhode seemed to be the prefect testing board. The captain seemed to be following a different set of rule books, that Chris was interested in understanding and testing.
"Captain's be Dammed!"
by Commander Thomas - First Officer
USS Galaxy
Commander Thomas set on the bridge, everything seemed to be going as planned. The ship was proceeding with the mission and the shuttles were now into their flight patterns. While the ship drove straight into the nebula, everyone seemed to be coping with the changes and then it all came to and end.
"Apparently there has been some sort of alteration in the holodecks circuitry."
"Attempts to access result in random jumping and scrambling of account numbers." she said.
........ Brhode asked if she knew who did this.
"N.No sir." she said risking a glance at James who smiled a crooked smile in an attempt to calm her.
"Thank you Lieutenant." Brhode said sharply.
"Number One, I want you to contact O'Grady. Tell her that she has one hour to find whoever was stupid enough to disobey me. If she fails, I will have every holodeck on this ship disassembled and jettisoned into space and she will be replaced as Security Chief."
"Sir, with all due respect..." Thomas started, but the furious Brhode wasn't finished.
"ONE HOUR, COMMANDER!" he shouted, then made a visible effort to control himself. "Tampering with this ship and her systems without expressed permission by a superior officer is an act of sabotage. Sabotaging a starship is an act of mutiny, and that is exactly what the arrest warrant for this ..officer will read when he or she is taken in restraints to the brig."
Brhode turned to look at Commander Thomas. "I want a head on a silver platter and I want it in one hour."
"Aye, sir." Thomas said moving towards the turbolift.
**
Commander Thomas entered the turbolift and as the doors closed his face soured. The captain had gone from a change to a pain.
"Computer open and record the following into my personal logs, s-3-1-s-i e.1 and todays stardate, 'Number One, I want you to contact O'Grady. Tell her that she has one hour to find whoever was stupid enough to disobey me. If she fails, I will have every holodeck on this ship disassembled and jettisoned into space and she will be replaced as Security Chief.' by Captain Brhode and secure in s-3-1-s-i."
"Confirmed."
"Computer attach the following to s-3-1-s-i e.1, this order was given by Captain Brhode after learning that someone had tampered with his new database initiative that limits all crew personnel to 1 hour of holodeck usage a week." Chris said. "Something that I will have to speak with him about, as this restriction is unacceptable."
Chris was just about to add something, when the a beep came telling him a shipwide message was coming, "secure in s-3-1-s-i and end."
"Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Until further notice, the holodecks are off limits to all members of this crew. Apparently some of you onboard felt that it would be cute to not only alter this ships systems, but also test my will. That's just fine. You will be found. And when you are, heads are gonna roll. Anyone else who feels that they need to commit acts of mutiny, move now to the nearest airlock, where you will be purged from this ship! Service on the Galaxy is a privilege! There are thousands of officers who want to be right where you are right now. It can easily be arranged. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOR FROM ANY MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, OR BEAST ON THIS SHIP!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!! Brhode out."
"CAPTAIN BRHODE BE DAMMED!" Commander Thomas said after hearing the captain's little speech. If the captain continued on this course, the tensions between the captain and crew would rise and more problems would occur. If the captain continued on his current tyrant, Chris was already formulating a plan to deal with the captain.
"Computer record Captain Brhode's shipwide communication to my personal log, s-3-1-s-i e.2 and secure in s-3-1-s-i." Chris said. "Also record the communication into the first officer's log."
"Acknowledged." the computer said.
If the captain was going to insist on using that tone and language, Starfleet would be apprised of the situation. If it came down to his own court martial, he would be more then ready to answer any charges and at the same time take what action was needed.
He would for the moment carry out the captain's orders. Once he was done speaking with the chief security officer and giving her the orders in a more diplomatic tone, he would have to speak with the captain.
***
Exiting the turbolift he arrived at the ship's security station which was located near the brig. It was an interesting choice of locations, but he couldn't complain as it had to make sense for the chief security officer.
Entering the security section and approaching the chief security officer, Chris spoke up, "Lt. Commander Rayna O'Grady I hate to interrupt whatever you're doing at the moment, but the captain has new orders for you. You have 1 hour to find out who tampered with the captain's new database system from tracking holodeck usage for personal recreation. If you don't get it done in 1 hour he's threatening to remove you as chief." Chris said.
"I need you to get this done, use whatever means you must and if you need me, call me." Chris said. "Keep me apprised, I must get back to the bridge."
"Shift changes By the ACMO"
By Lieutenant Junior grade Autumn Quevvenson, ACMO.
Autumn sighed and re-read the order. Andree hadn't made a move on the item requested by the captain and so she herself had written the shift changes and she wasn't happy about it. She re-checked it a douzen times before sending it in.
To: Commander Thomas and Captain Brhode RE: Shift changes
From: The ACMO
Sickbay's shift changes as requested.
Alpha Shift 9:00-17:30
Andree Dothan (Doctor), Ariana Kenai (Nurse), Vanda M'Giia (Paediatric Nurse), Jenna D McKenzie (Med-Tech), Dr. Martin (EMH2)
Beta Shift 17:00-1:30
Autumn Quevvenson (Doctor), Dr. Martin (EMH2), Kristen Opel (Nurse), Christina Taggart (Nurse),Talon (Doctor), Roman O'Neil (Doctor),
Gamma Shift 1:00-9:30
Vladimir Malgin (Doctor), Lemur (Doctor), Geoffry Harper (Doctor), Dr. Martin (EMH2), Grr'Iss (Paediatric Doctor), Dierdren Mhistecai (Medical)
*Note* In emergencies the Paediatric Team will assist in Sickbay.
The EMH - "Doctor Grinch" is available 24 hours a day in an emergency
"Computer send message"
[Acknowledged]
Sighing she relaxed against her chair and prayed that the Captain would accept it.
"Rude Awakening."
By Ensign Peter Lockhart
"Shouldn't you be at PT?" Annalise asked him as Peter stepped into his girlfriends quarters.
"You mean PE?" Peter answered. "I suppose that's an odd one to answer. On the one hand I'm supposed to go to these sessions, and on the other I'm Ensign Lockhart and I've never gone to any. No one expects me to so does that count as not having to go?"
A second later Peter was hit by a pillow. "Silly man!" Annalise said. "You know you're running a fine line with the new Captain don't you?"
"Brhode?" Peter muttered. "He doesn't seem that bad at the moment."
"Have you read his latest directive on the holodecks?" Annalise asked.
"No. I've been on duty. Far more interesting to stare into empty space than read holodeck...." Peter said, before all call was announced.
"Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Until further notice, the holodecks are off limits to all members of this crew. Apparently some of you onboard felt that it would be cute to not only alter this ships systems, but also test my will. That's just fine. You will be found. And when you are, heads are gonna roll. Anyone else who feels that they need to commit acts of mutiny, move now to the nearest airlock, where you will be purged from this ship! Service on the Galaxy is a privilege! There are thousands of officers who want to be right where you are right now. It can easily be arranged. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOUR FROM ANY MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, OR BEAST ON THIS SHIP!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!! Brhode out."
"That's an odd announcement." Peter nodded his head slowly. "Mutiny is an ugly phrase, but so is 'holodecks are off limits'." he then laughed out loud. Annalise handed him a PADD with the captain's latest holodeck directive on it.
After a minute reading it, Peter answered. "So someone has already broken this rule then I take it?"
"It would appear." Annalise said.
"You know what this means then don't you?" Peter asked, waiting for the Betazoid to read his mind.
"Alternative forms of entertainment. Ten Forward and.... oh Peter! Do I get a choice in this?" she said suddenly.
"Doesn't have to be you." Peter started, before he was assaulted with a barrage of pillows. "Okay, okay!!! Ten Forward it is. I'm sorry." he added sincerely.
"So you should be. Are you sticking around?"
"If you don't mind. I need sleep and I'm happy to kip here if you'll let me."
"Go ahead and take the bed. I've got some reports to file." she answered, moving over to the computer terminal.
Peter headed over to the bedroom and crashed out. "Ta!" he bawled back. "Much appreciated."
Two hours later Peter was rudely awakened by General Quarters being sounded. He jumped out of bed and grabbed his uniform. Annalise briefly popped her head in.
"What's going on?" Peter asked.
"I don't know. I'll be in sickbay." she said as she darted out of the quarters.
"See ya later." Peter muttered as he roared into the sonic shower. "Computer, sonic shower, ten seconds." he bawled. "The captain can wait another ten seconds."
Exactly ten seconds later, Peter was out the shower and throwing his uniform on. As he struggled around the room, he grabbed his shoes and phaser. Checking it was on heavy stun (always) he holstered it and roared out the quarters towards the battle bridge.
"The New Orders"
by Ensign Maggie Osborn, Security
Music: Alex Bach with 'Miles to go', WTC style.
Voice recording: Captain Brhode's last order will appear in this post
------------------
(Ensign Osborn's Personal Quarters)
Maggie was tired. Tired and sweaty. She slowly stripped out of her uniform, putting it on her bed as she considered something.
”…You looked the other way as you walked past the door…”
She took out her ponytail and stepped into the shower. If there was ever something good after a workout it was a good shower.
”…I have miles to go before I sleep”
She turned on the water and let it run down her backside. She relaxed, allowing the soothing water to loosen up tight muscles.
”…Oh I wish that I could stay here but it is just not meant to be”
She grabbed the soap, proceeding to soap herself good in. Her chest, her neck, her shoulders, her waist.
“...Cause no matter where you go I am always in your heart...”
She ducked her head under the powerful spray, letting her long brown hair follow the water down her face.
“...Believe me I will miss you more than you will ever know...”
She stayed like that for a longer amount of time, allowing herself to catch up with the days events and to just have some time for herself. It was of course at that time when Brhode’s voice cut through the music and the sound of falling water.
"Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Until further notice, the holodecks are off limits to all members of this crew. Apparently some of you onboard felt that it would be cute to not only alter this ships systems, but also test my will. That's just fine. You will be found. And when you are, heads are gonna roll. Anyone else who feels that they need to commit acts of mutiny, move now to the nearest airlock, where you will be purged from this ship! Service on the Galaxy is a privilege! There are thousands of officers who want to be right where you are right now. It can easily be arranged. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOR FROM ANY MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, OR BEAST ON THIS SHIP!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!! Brhode out."
“Off limits?” she muttered and spat out the small amount of soap water she got in her mouth by doing so. Okay, mutiny was to stress it. But still, if people were playing with the ships systems it would have to be fixed. This was a Starfleet vessel and should be up to Starfleet’s standards. Which involved no horse hockey. She turned of the water and grabbed a towel. And he was right. Serving on the Galaxy was a privilege. Not a duty. Duty was being assigned to the garbage disposal, something that many of the people fooling around might experience now that Brhode was officially pissed off. She shrugged and wrapped the towel around her waist and walked out of the bathroom to get dressed. Not her concern. It never was.
After getting dressed she sat down in front of her computer.
“Personal log for Ens. Maggie Osborn, note today’s stardate. Voice and visual recording. The new Captain has made his first audio appearance. The holodeck is officially off limits for all personnel. I have no idea what is going on but it must be bad since he is so angry. Based on my experience, which is little, Security personnel are the parties that usually get framed for such things. I am expecting more drills and training in the nearest future. Not that I have anything to do. I still have some time for my shift. End log”
She sat back she shook her head. Just great, diary stuff...she never had the patience to do so. She sat back and picked up the book from her desk and started to read. But in her mind she wondered about her future onboard. Especially with Brhode as captain.
~Suddenly This Starship Seems A Lot More Cramped~
by Ens. Cutter Kara'nin
Cutter awoke to the view of his oddly lit ceiling. He stared for a minute, blinking the sleep from his eyes, not moving. As life slowly crept back into his body, he gradually became aware of his body; his left arm draped across his body, the other to his side, his wings lay on the floor. He tilted his head back, pushing it into the pillow, so that he could look out his window. Space was no longer black. Instead, the window was filled with a deep red, with patches of yellow-orange and streaks of blue-green. It reminded him of a sunset, the red sun in a pink sky, with the occasional strip of blue-purple cloud. It was certainly a beautiful site to wake up to.
The Mako Nebula, Cutter had forgotten they had arrived yesterday. How could he have forgotten! The first excitement since he had come aboard! Many people stayed awake during the Gamma shift last night, mainly the scientists, to get those first scans of the nebula. Some really fascinating discoveries happened already during that first night, delta radiation being chief among them. But there were also other really interesting scans, like local cloud composition, radiation counts and data on the Mako red giant star near the center of the cloud, the source of its amazing glow. However, Cutter didn't really get much of a chance to read the reports, he was busy performing his duty for once. He even got to order helm to rotate the ship so that the starboard sensors could get a better view of the nebula! Tonight should prove much more interesting, as they had entered this morning while Cutter slept. Monitoring the shield power usage would definitely be somewhat of a challenge.
He sat up in his bed, stretched as he yawned, and ran his hand through his deep blue hair. "Computer, time," he called out.
"17:00."
Cutter got out of bed and stretched his legs before walking over to the replicator. "Milk," he ordered and as the machine set about to fulfill it, he addressed the computer. "Computer, access personal message file."
"You have 7 messages."
"Read aloud in priority order," he always read his messages in order of importance, captain's messages, department memos, ship-wide announcements and friends and family business last.
"New ship's protocol, initiated by the captain. From this point forward, holodeck usage will be limited to one hour per week for every member of the crew. Further more, holodeck usage time can be credited or debited from each crew members account by the command staff of this vessel to reward or punish officers for their performance on board this ship."
Cutter's jaw dropped! Suddenly his roommate entered. Scott Shanks was an ensign, like Cutter. He worked in Engineering, a transmission network specialist; he spent all day maintaining and repairing things like the EPS waveguides, ODN trunks and replicator and structural integrity power conduits. He wore the face of a bearer of exciting news, "Cutter! Guess what!"
"Computer, pause. What?" he asked, he was still trying to recover from the loss of the holodeck.
"The new captain shut off the holodecks!"
"I know, I got the message. He cut us down to just an hour a week!"
Scott seemed to become slightly nervous as Cutter retold the news that would now be classified as yesterday's news. "No. Someone apparently sabotaged the accounting system for the 'deck. He's restricted holodeck usage entirely until further notice."
"He didn't!"
Scott simply nodded. He did. "Computer play the most recent announcement by the captain concerning holodeck protocol."
The computer wasted no time, and immediately relayed the message. "Attention all hands. This is the Captain. Until further notice, the holodecks are off limits to all members of this crew. Apparently some of you onboard felt that it would be cute to not only alter this ships systems, but also test my will. That's just fine. You will be found. And when you are, heads are gonna roll. Anyone else who feels that they need to commit acts of mutiny, move now to the nearest airlock, where you will be purged from this ship! Service on the Galaxy is a privilege! There are thousands of officers who want to be right where you are right now. It can easily be arranged. I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS BEHAVIOR FROM ANY MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, OR BEAST ON THIS SHIP!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!! Brhode out."
Cutter sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the message, his disbelief and anger rising simultaneously. "How can he do that! Doesn't he know that some of us need that holodeck to remain sane! The holodeck is the only place on the ship where I can fly! Cutting of the holodeck is like, like cutting off my wings!"
Scott smiled sympathetically, "Cutter, calm down. It'll be all right. Its not like you need to fly to live right?"
"I'll tell you what, I'm going to tie to a chair for a couple days and then you can ask me that question again."
"All right, fair enough," Scott laughed. "Don't worry though. I'm sure you'll be able to use it again within a couple days. If it means that much to you, you can have my hour. I don't ever use the holodeck anyway."
Cutter stared at his roommate in shocked gratitude. They had only known each other for a week or so, when they were assigned the same room. Scott must be a really friendly guy to offer up his holodeck time to a guy he's only known for a week.
"Thanks. Really, wow. Are you sure though? You spend all day in Jeffries tubes, you don't need to escape every once and a while?"
"Nah," Scott said, swiping away the air in front of him as he did so, "I like working in Jeffries Tubes. They're nice and quiet, you don't have to worry about impressing superior officers. I can turn on music and sing to myself; its great! Besides, if I ever need to get away, then I'll just go in there with you. You don't fly nude, do you?"
Cutter laughed, "No. Well, not usually."
"Good. Hey, I was going to go eat lunch in Ten Forward. Hungry?"
"Sure."
"A Breakdown in Communications."
By Commander Kent Peterson
The drone opened her eyes to the familiar surroundings of the cargo bay which had been her Collective since leaving the class-three tactical vessel she had been assigned to. Glancing around she did not blink - her eyes not irritated like they would have when a Human - as she took in distances between objects and any sign of Starfleet personnel in the room.
Stepping out of the modified alcove she turned and entered in a few parameters - checking the length of time she had been regenerating - as well as calling up a report. As a general rule the drone, now alone on a Federation starship, would need to monitor her own maintenance requirements unlike when she had been on a Borg vessel. Then it was the specific duties of designated drones. Still, she had adapted to life on the strange, yet familiar, alien vessel.
Three of Four walked towards the cargo bay doors. The room was empty as usual - unless someone came by to store or remove the cargo stored there - but she was surprised that no one had been by in the last three days.
Determined to discover the reason why she reached the doors and walked through them as they opened. Reaching the carpeted corridor she was met by two Starfleet security guards, the same number assigned to her since arriving with the away team after making the uneasy deal the Collective. "I wish to see Price, Captain Robert Edward Lee," she stated, making the request sound more like a demand, even though the tone in her voice sounded more stoic than emotive.
"That's not possible," one of the security guards responded.
"Explain."
The other security officer moved towards Three of Four. "Captain Price had been reassigned. He left three days ago."
Although the drone did not experience feelings - the one Human woman's ability to feel pain, happiness, and the other emotions taken when she was assimilated - the news did seem to provoke a non-emotive response. She jerked her head slightly to one side as the Borg noted that Captain Price was no longer on the ship.
"Please state the nature of his departure."
"Um," one of the security officers, a New Yorker, said as his British counterpart shrugged his shoulder. "Captain Price was reassigned elsewhere in Starfleet. Captain Brhode is the commanding officer of the USS Galaxy."
"Brhode, Captain John."
The British security officer looked a little surprised at first. Neither he, nor his counterpart from the city of New York, had mentioned Brhode's given name. No doubt she knew it as a result of the Collective having assimilated thousands of Starfleet officers over the course of the last ten years. "That's correct."
"The I wish to see Brhode, Captain John. Commanding officer of the Starship Galaxy. Registry NCC-70367."
"That isn't possible either right now," the Brit remarked.
"Explain."
"It's four in the morning. The Captain would be sleeping."
Three of Four took in the new set of parameters as the two security officers tried to explain to her the change in command and why she could not see the new captain right now. Jerking her head slightly again, she turned to the New Yorker.
"Then I wish to see Peterson, Commander Kent."
The New Yorker looked to his British colleague and shrugged his shoulders. Turning back to the drone he shook his head. "Commander Peterson, Counselor Dallas, and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin all left around the same time as Captain Price. They are no longer on the Galaxy," he said, spelling out any possible confusion or lack of knowledge of the other senior officers also being gone from the ship.
The Borg drone seemed to find the situation inefficient. As a being working to ultimate perfection she could not understand how a Starfleet vessel could function with a lack of information, especially since no one had told her that those four officers were leaving, or that they were gone.
Three of Four began to grow more persistent in her tone, even though it still possessed the same detached tone that she always used. "Then I wish to see Mitchell, Lieutenant Commander James."
"I'll try. But I believe he would be sleeping also," the New Yorker said. "Computer, located 'Commander Mitchell."
["Lieutenant Commander Mitchell is in Stellar Cartography."]
The British security officer attracted Three of Four's attention by waving his hand near her face. "If you'd return to the cargo bay, we'll ask 'Commander Mitchell to see you as soon as he can."
The drone looked at the man before turning to his fellow security officer. Jerking her head slightly to one side she computed all the new parameters. "I will return to the cargo bay and wait."
Three of Four turned around and returned to the cargo bay as she had announced to the two security officers.
"You do that love," the Brit said sarcastically as the cargo bay doors closed behind Three of Four, the remark seemingly unheard by the drone. "I can't believe we're having to reason with a bloody drone. What the hell is the fleet coming to?"
The security officer from New York City nodded. "I hear you man ..."
"One hand for the ship and one for yourself"
by Lt. Cmdr Ragnald Gustavson, chief helmsman
Turning to Lt. Commander Gustavson he then said: "I don't believe in pussy-footing around in an Emergency. Helm lay in an intercept course for signal source Warp 9. Take us into Harms way Mister."
The red-haired chief helmsman nodded and operated his panel.
"Course set sir" he answered.
Slower than usual the 'big lady' accelerated.
"Do you try to challenge me Lieutenant Commander? I thought my orders were clear. Warp 9!" repeated Captain Brhode.
"I didn't try to challenge you, sir, nor did I want to disobey your orders .... " explained Gustavson "... according to Starfleet information about maneuvering inside a nebula the maximum speed must not exceed Warp 3 - Warp 3.31 to be exact. Otherwise the dust would overload our shields and deflectors and soon even sandblast us to pieces."
"That's no reason to change my orders without notice, isn't it?" asked Brhode.
"I did not change your orders, Captain. I was taught to always have 'one hand for the ship and one for myself'. I just wanted to give Tac and Ops a chance to warn us before we melt away, break to pieces or hit a wall with full speed. We already reached Warp 4.5. We will reach Warp 9 in round about 8 minutes."
Ragnald was already sweating. A drop ran down his cheek while his finger hovered just a few millimeters above the hot spot labeled 'emergency full stop'.
Donar's sake. 'Captain Jarhead' seemed to be a dangerous mixture of Captain Ahab hunting Moby Dick, the white whale and the captain in 'Mutiny on the Bounty'. Ragnald wondered which force drove him forward and made him even risk his ship and the life of more than thousand people he was responsible for just to follow a scrambled distress call deep inside an unknown space.
"One hour before I can go home"
by Arel Smith, but inspired by work today
Father Time sat down and stretched his feet before him, his head leaning back and his eyes closing for a quick nap. Time itself slowed with him and the minutes began to slow as well, with all the energy of a turtle passing through a sea of molasses.
At least in Arel's mind that is.
She was sure that from a scientific standpoint the nebula was utterly fascinating with all kinds of, well, scientific things to be seen. From a security standpoint, however, the nebula was a dull place. History of course would probably prove otherwise but for now the nebula provided little or no threat. Not that she was eager to be thrown up against ultimate evil again but an insubordinate drunk or two would have been nice, especially now that her training time in the holodeck had been limited.
She expected to be called to save a cat soon, it was that slow.
Arel made second rounds through her assigned part of the ship, checking once again for anything suspicious, alien, out of place, or otherwise 'security problems'. Although bored, she made a point of making a complete check. There was no excuse for being sloppy.
Everything was secure and Father Time rolled onto his side and let out a loud snore. Arel gritted her teeth against the instinct to check the time left in her shift or daydream about anything un- security related. While she was here on Galaxy, despite that she did not really want to be here, she would do the job right.
Lt Cmdr Eric Odin
Ens Maggie Osborn
Eric pushed the chime on Maggie's quarters and said,"It's Eric. I hope I'm not disturbing you." He was planning to take her out for that drink.
"One moment!" Maggie yelled and looked around. She quickly got dressed (she was just finished showering after the Target practice she had had with Azaria) and brushed her hair. She walked to the door. "Enter," she said and smiled to Odin. "Hello"
Eric smiled and said,"Hello, I'm sorry if I disturbed you. Did you just get out of the shower?" he asked seeing that her head was wet.
"Yeah," she said and touched her still damp hair. "I had a work-out with the Security team..." she smiled.
He smiled and said,"Well I came here to ask if you wanted to join me for a drink, but if you're too tired that's alright. Do you want to join me for a drink?"
Osborn gave him a small smile. "Sure, sport. A drink does sound like a good idea 'bout now," she said and broke into a wider smile
He smiled and said,"Great, thanks for going with me." he offered his arm and said,"I try to be as gentleman-like as times will allow."
Maggie smiled and took his arm. "Sounds good and all..but I'm not a real lady," she said and winked. She chuckled as they walked to the 10Forward
He smiled as they walked in and released her arm and walked over to a two person table and pulled out her chair and said,"Here you go."
She smiled to him. "Thanks," she said and looked around. "Boy, it is quiet here...oh, that's true...Leo isn't here," she added with a small grin.
He grinned and said,"He does seem to stir up trouble doesn't he?" He kept standing and also asked,"What would you like todrink?"
She got a thoughtful expression for a moment before answering, "A tonic with a twist of lemon, please"
He nodded and said,"Coiming right up." he order a star nebla and a tonic with a twist. He came back and set hers infront of her and sat setting his on the table. "I love this star nebula drink." He smiled and asked,"You haven't been onboard long, am I right?"
Osborn sipped her drink and smiled. "No..not long. I'm just starting to get to know people," she answered and smiled. "I guess you can read 'New officer onboard' on my back, huh?"
"Experience teaches you to spot new people. Welcome onboard, even if it is a late welcome. How are you liking it?" hre asked as he sipped his drink.
She smiled and tucked a stray of her hair away from her face. "The ship seems like a great one. I didn't have the chance to meet Price before he transferred but I have heard he was quite a captain. Too bad I don't get a chance to serve under him," she said and sipped her drink thoughtfully. "The crew seems nice," she added with a smile to Eric.
He smiled and said,"Captain Price was a great captain and I have no doubt he'll be back. Knowing starfleet he's off doing something secretive. I like the crew too. You managed to catch anyone's eyes yet?"
Maggie almost spit out her drink at that question. She coughed before answering. "No. But I am here to do a job, not to be liked," she said quietly.
Eric was surprised with the coldness in her statement and asked,"Did you know that people generally do their job better and more efficiently if they are happy with their lives as a whole?" he sipped his drink as he waited for a response.
She chuckled and looked at him. "Yeah, I read it somewhere. But I feel that my work has to be before my sosial life. And hey, if Starfleet wanted me to get married they had issued me a man along with my Uniform," she joked and sipped her drink. Boy, wasn't this embarressing? Any black holes nearby that she could crawl down in?
He laughed and said,"Who knows, perhaps your perspective will change later on. I'm sure you will make many friends at the very least." He smiled and said,"I would like to be one fo them afterall."
She smiled back. "Thanks. I'd like that," she said and looked down in her drink. Becoming a bit bolder she asked, "So..are you seeing someone?". A voice in her head answered; of course he is. Someone this handsome has a girl in every dock in every base in every department.
He smiled and said,"Actually I am. It's recent though. Alia Drakely is the one. Do you know her?"He hoped he wasn't stepping on her toes.
Ha! Can I smell 'em or what? she thought with a smile. So some level she was dissapointed but it hadn't surprised her. Alia was actually a beautiful woman. She could understand so much. "Yeah, we work together in Security. Know and know..I know of her. She seems like a very nice woman," Maggie responded, sipping her drink and considering getting something stronger. Stronger? Yeah, like a phaser shot to the head. She smiled and put her glass down, watching the slice of lemon through the half full glass of tonic.
"Well, I'm sure you'll find someone as well. Sometiems when you're not looking for soemone is the tiem when they come along and surprise you. Just telling you you never really know Maggie."He smiled encouragingly as he finished off his drink.
Osborn smiled weakly. "Yeah...sure," she said. "I think I better leave now. I have to talk to someone," she said and got up. She teld her hand out. "It is nice to have a friend onboard, Eric. Thanks,"she said before leaving.
He shook her hand a smiled hoping he hadn't made her angry by trying to get her to broaden her horizon. He got up and left shortly after she did.
"The One with the Thomas Interview"
A Joint Post by
Kit Jordan, Reporter and
Commander Chris Thomas, First Officer **
Jordan managed to find Commander Thomas coming out of the turbo lift, it was really quite by accident, unexpected, and very much welcome. The computer wasn't being very helpful; she guessed they were having some problems with it.
"Commandah Thomas!" she exclaimed, trying desperately to catching his attention as she pushed through a cluster of very slow moving and gabbing security officers. Commandah Thomas!"
He turned and looked at her as she hurried up, smiled and offered her hand. "Kit Jah'dan, Fedah'ration Dispatch."
"You're the reporter," he said, warily.
"Yes, I'm uh... I'm the reporta, um... could I maybe ask you a few questions?"
He frowned. "I'm actually just getting off duty--"
"Oh! Wonduh'ful then! It won't take very long," she said, grinning and brushing hair from her face. "I just want to get some backgr'ahnd infah'mation about Captain Price and Captain Brhode and how you feel about it'all... maybe we should get outta the hall way? Pe'haps?"
He stared at her a moment, his forehead creasing. "You ah going to 'ave to talk to me eventually, Commandah, it's ve'y difficult to avoid me and avoid the news in general, eventually it will, uh... it will come out and..." She leaned forward. "Maybe you want to tell yah side of things bef'ah that happens, do you think? Just a few sh'aht question and I'll leave you alone to go home to ya wife."
Commander Thomas wasn't really sure he should be answering questions given the current state of change on the ship. While he never had any problems addressing or dealing with reporters in his interim days, those were behind him. He was the executive officer on the ship, not a politician.
"Ask your questions, doesn't mean I'll answer them." Chris said in fairness.
Jordan frowned a moment, her nose wrinkling a little as she studied the first officer. He was tall and stable in build. He was a soft spoken man and his eyes darted nervously, though his façade remained steely and dark. Chris was a little distracted, that was obvious, but she supposed there was good reason. He was playing the little game: I'm afraid of you, afraid of my superiors, and more than that I'm afraid of myself. It was typical of Starfleet officers, especially those with any amount of Intel training. She'd dealt with them before and in normal circumstances, with a wine and dine and the right outfit, she could get nearly anything out of them, but for some reason she didn't think that would work on this one. He wasn't the type, his demeanor shouted that, aided by the blare horn of a wedding band he kept unconsciously flashing. Married men, sigh. Pains in the ass.
She cleared her throat. He'd briefly thrown her off, not to mention that little fiasco with the captain and the 8 percent restrictions and everything… this was not going well, not going well at all. Maybe she should have listened to her damned editor…
"Whah'da'ya think was the reasoning behind the reassignments of most of the Galaxy sen'ya crew, what was so spectac'lah about these people that they w'ah reassigned to an as of yet undisclosed position?"
"First off it was a very small number of officers that were reassigned to new postings. Which I might add happens all the time in Starfleet, even on this ship. The only thing unique about this time is that it was a few officers from the upper ranks that were reassigned along with some junior officers." Commander Thomas replied. "As for speculation, I don't."
"Everyone speculates," she stated.
"I don't."
"Hum… Whah'da'ya think is the reasoning behind Captain Brhode being given the command and you being passed ovah?"
"Given the facts that I've seen and my understanding of the situation, Captain Brhode was given captaincy of the Galaxy, because of his success with the USS Avatar in turning the ship's efficency ratings around. He was able to bring improved results to a ship that needed help. His assignment to the Galaxy would appear to be along the same lines, but that's to be seen."
"Ah you bittah?"
"No." Commander Thomas answered soundly.
She frowned. That answer was much to concrete.
"What is ya fi'st impression of Captain Brhode? He's already made many changes to the mannah with which the ship is run… how do you suppose the crew will react?"
"Captain Brhode reminds me of some of Starfleet's more hawkish members who have a tendency to focus on the military aspect of Starfleet rather than on the scientific or medical aspects. I wouldn't care to speculate beyond about the captain's motives or decision at this time. I would have to believe based on his past he will make changes and the crew's reaction will be tempered by the logic and fairness of those changes."
Hum… admission of speculation… Mental note.
"On anoth'ah note, I hah'd through the grape vine that you w'ah thinking of... reti'ah'ring from Stah'fleet, any truth to this? What would you do aftah'wahds?"
"Retiring, my where every did you hear that?" Chris asked.
She grinned.
"I've my sah'ces. But truly, the grapevine on this ship would rival neah'ly anything."
Commander Thomas nodded in agreement.
"I don't divulge specific sah'ces othah than to say the grapevine," she replied, shrugging. "I'm sah'ry."
"To answer your question when I do feel it's time to retire I'll let you know. As to what I'd like to do when and if I retire, depends on when it occurs, I might seek to become a Federation Ambassador." Commander Thomas finally answered the first question.
"An Ambassadah?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. "Any pah'ticlar reason why?"
"… I've got to get home to my wife, I'm really not sure if I can help you with anything more, but if you have further questions, I could do my best. Don't get in the way of officer's duties, Ms. Jordan, or you will find yourself being tossed out the nearest airlock."
"I will keep that in mind, Commandah, thank you."
She watched him nod and move slowly down the corridor and around a corner. She chewed on her bottom lip. More research must be done on this one, but unfortunately it would have to wait. She needed to make another list. Priorities were an important thing.
"Codling a Captain"
by Commander Chris Thomas - First Officer USS Galaxy
Commander Thomas returned to the bridge of the Galaxy after visiting security and giving them the orders from the captain. Chris found the orders to be reasonable, but the tone wasn't.
After taking a minute to clear his mind, Chris stepped onto the bridge. It was show time, he needed to put his personal feelings aside for now and deal with the captain. He was the new commanding officer, and it seemed odd, really.
He was at odds with Price for making decisions that seemed to be lax or placid in nature. To which he felt they were poorly executed or possible trouble, but then they get a new captain the complete opposite. A man who stood for nothing, expect his own agenda.
His mind was spinning faster then he could think.
He didn't this kind of flip flop, he was going to do something about it. While the captain needed codling for the opening days of his command. It was completely apparent that the captain had little intention of paying attention to his first officer, expect when it suited him.
The time for holding the captain's had was past, the captain wanted someone else in his spot. Actually he knew the answer without even saying anything, but then nothing had to be said.
He could already tell him and Brhode would never get along. This wasn't going to work out, Captain Price accepted his flair for doing things, but this man was too much.
Commander Thomas decided that the best course of action was for him to inform the captain. He was going to put in for a transfer..
"Captain Brhode, may I have a word with you sir?" Chris said. "In private."
"What about, we're a little busy here commander!"
Commander Thomas didn't want to do this way, but "Captain, I don't think I am the first officer for you, I don't believe I can continue serve as your executive officer and maintain my objective."
There he'd said it.
----
tbc......
"Red alert or what?"
Lt Cmdr Michael O'Grady
Chief counselor
=Counseling offices=
Having been notified abotu Nikki's little adventure Mike was not a happy camper. He had been a bit lax anyway about his stepdaughter, she was a good kid who was bright, exceptionally so and now she had used her smarts to hack her mother's access codes to the holodeck to get more time.
Mike frowned, that was unacceptable. He would punish her when he got home, after talking to Rayna and all, but he would also talk to captain Bhrodie about getting some of the more advanced educational holoprograms on board, if she was bored in school they would need to challenge her so she wouldn't pull a stunt like that again.
Then he would have to work on the department, he couldn't think of it as his department yet, like he couldn't think of Karyn's office as his, hell he hadn't moved his stuff in yet, Probably wouldn't for a while, it didn't feel official yet, but he would move it in eventually.
Then the lights, then it flashed, red alert.
He was out of the door and at the bridge before he could remeber why.
Oh yea he had to counsel the captain.
Heading to the chief counselor's chair he sat down and began to bring up status reports. If the captain had a question he did have the answer.
Except for the big question, what was going on here...
"Conformity"
by
Lt. Commander James Mitchell
Chief Science Officer
[Commander Thomas to 'Commander Mitchell] The comm-panel blinked and chirped its request as the acting Chief was just putting together the latest survey results from the nebula. Reaching over from his padded seat, he accepted the request just as Ensign Arentshorst arrived for his first briefing.
"Yes, Commander?" He gestured the Ensign to take a seat, which he politely accepted, albeit uncomfortably.
['Commander, the Captain has accepted your duty rotation draft, and has asked me to inform you that you have been officially promoted to the position of Chief Science Officer effective immediately. Your command shift rotation is during Beta watch. Report to Stellar Cartography ASAP, as the shuttles are beginning to map the nebula. Thomas out.]
"Our new Captain must be having Chris run around in circles." James keyed the terminal off just as the incoming message display blinked on. Message from Rose. He let it be, as he wanted to read the message in private later.
"Hello, Ensign!" He reached a meaty hand over the desk to offer it in friendship. "Welcome to the Galaxy!" "Thank you, sir. And may I be the first to congratulate you?" He jumped up to take the Bajoran's hand and shook it fiercely.
"Thanks, ensign." He nodded his head as he smiled. "Now, down to business, as it would seem our new Captain doesn't appreciate quality over quantity." He tapped his fingers on the desk and glanced to the right at the drawer below him. "You didn't hear that, Friedrich. Respect the chain of command here. Captain Price was a good captain, and did things that worked for him, but Brhode is here now and he is our new Captain. I actually like what I hear he's doing anyways. About time someone starting enforcing regulations around here. Not that Captain Price didn't." He slid the drawer open to remove an isolinear chip and a padd.
He focussed his icy glare on the new recruit as he got serious.
"I just don't tolerate disrespect of those who go to bat for you, no matter the situation. I have a feeling things are going to get a bit more efficient around here." He sat back down in his chair and slid the padd and chip to Arenthorst.
"Your command codes for Beta shift lab station duties as Head of the new Cultural Sciences Department and operational LCARS usage for Cultural Sciences databases are on the chip. Sign the Padd to acknowledge the codes transfer, if you don't mind. After this, I need you to report to Lieutenant MacAllen for duty assignment." As Arenthorst signed off on the transfer, Captain Brhode's voice came booming over the shipwide intercom. It was actually the first time James had heard the Captain, and had yet to meet him. If this were the first sign of things to come, it was going to be a tough tour.
The Ensign palmed the chip and stood to leave as the Captain blew off about cutting back holodeck time or something or other.
"Times are changing, Ensign." He put his hand on the officer's shoulder as he walked him to the doorway. "It was nice meeting you, Friedrich. I'll be talking to you again soon, as I have some interesting resources for you to tap in Cultural Sciences." He gripped his shoulder as he shook his hand once again.
"That sounds rather ominous, sir..." Arenthorst pulled back and eyed the 'Commander warily as they gripped hands again.
"Oh... I think you'll find it rather interesting." He released his hand from the Ensign's as he stood back to walk with him to the exit. "Lieutenant MacAllen is in Main Engineering aligning the sensor arrays with Ensign Tenadra. I've already informed them to admit you on my authority, so no worries about being restricted." They left the busily analyzing main science labs to their discretions as they went their separate ways, and the comm-panel in the Science office chirped away with more messages.
"Practice Makes Perfect"
by Lt. Commander Elaithin Ji / Sub-Commander Mirok
"aefaa...afaeeye...nope. "Elaithin sighed, and tried it again.
Aboard the Barolian freighter, in the small quarters that had been provided, Elaithin Jii sat alone, practicing his Romulan. No doubt that if any of the Barolian crew were watching, they'd be wondering just what the hell he was doing - didn't he know how to speak his own native language?
"aefaeet...no that's not it. Aefvaas.. Ah, son of a bitch." the cosmetically-altered Bajoran muttered. The Romulan greeting of "aefaeyd" was giving him all sorts or trouble.
Instead, he concentrated on his cover. He was Sub-Commander Mirok, of the Imperial Romulan Navy. He was aide to Commander Palteth - the Captain's alter-ego. He'd grown up in Jaharla Province, the child of a now-dead pair of military officers. Both had died in the Dominion War. His mother's name was Melan, his father, Pelik. He official job specialty was as a floating internal security specialist - something just short of being in the Tal Shiar. For the last three years he had been assigned as Commander Palteth's Aide.
And that was just about it. There were small details - his cover's favorite food and many other little details that all seemed to point out that his cover - and very likely the others - had at one point all been living, breathing Romulans.
He didn't want to think about whatever Starfleet Intelligence had been forced to do to secures those identites. Hopefully thier covers were safely locked away by SI at a resort somewhere...but that didn't seem very likely.
The whole idea of this subterfuge didn't sit well with Elaithin. Oh, it was exciting, certainly. And the others very likely thought he was reacting to this mission like a kid in a candy shop. And on the surface, he was. There was a lot at stake, and in a profession like Security, the adrenaline rush of danger was what one lived for.
But honestly, he preferred a straight fight. Questions, answers, and if necessarry, phasers blasting all under the open light of day. But all this sneaking around, false identities and the like? Leave those games to Starfleet Intelligence.
One unanswered question that was starting to nag at the Security Officer's mind, however.
Why did Starfleet Intelligence need four Line Officers to do this job?
"Murder Through The Grapevine."
by
Lt.jg. Copperpot,
Lt.jg. Drakely.
Chuck Copperpot strolled into the weapons locker and was greeted - if the word can be used in such a way - by the two men on duty, Dante and Randall.
"What's up, jerkoff?" Randall asked of Chuck as he walked in. Dante smacked him in the arm.
"Welcome to the weapons Qwik-Stop. What can I get you, Lieutenant?" Dante asked.
"Just here doing yet another inventory, gentlemen," Chuck said, looking away from the PADD in his hand to them only briefly. "I'm sure you recognize the emotional discomfort I put myself through calling you two flagella 'gentlemen.' "
"I though you worked in the brig, tightass?" Randall added. "Besides, someone inventoried this locker like three hours ago."
"I do," Chuck responded, "and I know. New Captain's orders." Chuck checked off a type-CLXXVII phaser on his list. "Don't mind me. Go back to whatever thrilling intellectual debate you two were undoubtedly engaged in."
"Yeah," Randall said, turning back to Dante. "So, like I said, she was drooling all over him in the gym, and someone saw him carrying her off towards his quarters. And from what I heard, they, uh...well, consummated the relationship, if you catch what I am..."
Chuck paused momentarily, looking at them from the corner of his eye. "You two never fail to disappoint me."
"What?" Dante asked, ignoring Copperpot. "How do you know?"
"I heard it from a reputable source," Randall said.
"Like you know a reputable source," Dante remarked.
"Like you could spell 'reputable,' " Chuck laughed.
"Go to hell, toolboy," Randall answered. "There is absolutely nothing more reliable than the rumor mill on this ship. I'd stake my job on it."
"So her and that engineer?" Dante asked. "Damn, who had him in the pool?"
"I don't know," Randall said, obviously disappointed and motioning toward Copperpot. "I had Lt. Book VonAssclown over there."
"So, they're together now?" Dante asked.
"Uh, yeah, moron. They're together now. Cross another one of your libido list," Randall leered at him.
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Chuck finally shouted at them. "I mean, if I am going to have to listen to all these seedy rumors and ridiculous allegations, you could at least give me some names."
"Oh, you didn't know?" Randall asked. "Your gal pal Drakely and that big guy from engineering, the Trill...."
"Odin," Dante added. "I thought you went to the wedding with her? You know there were rumors going around about you two..."
"So much for your reliable rumor mill," Chuck scoffed. "About Alia and this Trill fellow: give me everything you've got."
Minutes later, Chuck was at Alia's door. The inventory was the same as it was three hours before and could wait. Antagonizing Alia Drakely, though, was something that needed be done immediately. He leaned heavily on her doorchime as he did and waited for her to answer.
"Where's the fire?" Alia asked as she opened the door for him. He swept into her quarters. "Oh please, do come in," she muttered as she turned to look at him. She immediately felt uneasy. He had that look. What in the universe was he up to now?
Chuck found his way to the replicator and ordered himself a drink. He sat smugly upon her couch, smiling terribly.
"Oh, Lord," Alia said. "What have I done? Did I spell something wrong in my brig report? Sentence fragments? Improper subject-verb agreement? Dangling modifiers? What?!"
Chuck smiled more when she said 'dangling modifiers' and resolved himself to start checking her brig logs for spelling and grammar. He let her stew momentarily before continuing.
"How is your ankle?" he asked simply.
"Fine, thank you," Alia said, without realizing that she had not told him about the injury. A moment later, "Hey, how did you know..."
"How did you hurt it?" he asked.
"I fell off of the treadmill," Alia said, not feeling too bad about omitting *why* she'd fallen off the treadmill. She did answer the question directly, after all.
"That's not what I heard," Chuck said with a grin amusing only to himself.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Alia said, less amused now than before. She sat across from him. "Really, I fell off the treadmill."
"Fine," he said, setting his drink on her coffee table and starting to get up. "If that's how you want to be. If you can't talk to me, to old Chuck Copperpot who you've known for years, then I'll just leave you to your lies."
"Okay, okay!" Alia said motioning for him to sit back down, "I...I was distracted."
"Distracted." Chuck repeated flatly.
She vaguely wondered if he knew just how unnerving that gaze of his could be."Oh all right! I was looking at a man lifting weights," she muttered studying her hands as if they were the most interesting things in the universe.
Chuck's smile faded away. He could tell, from her obvious discomfort, that she was telling the truth, but it still conflicted with what he'd heard. He was disappointed, and it was obvious.
"Is that all?" Chuck asked.
"Why, what did you hear?" Alia asked suspiciously.
"Nothing I care to repeat in front of a lady," Chuck said, standing and trying not to picture the kind of contortionism that would have been necessary for the account of Dante and Randall to be accurate. He fought off many unhealthy images.
"What is that look for?" Alia looked at him strangely.
"Nevermind that," Chuck dismissed it, tired of beating around the bush now that the fun had been taken out of his game. "What's all this about you and Commander Odin?"
"Excuse me?" Alia said with confusion as she rose from her seat, "me and Commander Odin? There is no me and Commander Odin. Well, not as far as I know." Her brow creased as she thought, "I hurt my ankle, he carried me to sickbay. That's it. Tell me what you've heard, Chuck." Then she could retrieve her sword and go cut a few big mouths down...
"I heard it through the regular rumor mill," Chuck said, protecting the two idiots in the weapons locker for reasons which escaped him. "Though, what I heard was supposedly spawned, in some part anyway, by Commander Odin himself. Everyone on board thinks you two are an item."
"Everyone except me, apparently," Alia said.
"So he carried you to sickbay?" Chuck asked.
"Yes," Alia answered.
"And that's it?" Chuck asked again.
"Yes. That's it," Alia answered.
"How terribly boring," Chuck groaned, visibly defeated. "I thought this would be much more entertaining."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, Chester, but I'm not the slut you obviously think I am." Alia stated sharply.
Chuck's mouth fell open a little at the statement, but he simply stood there and stared at her, seeming, for once, to struggle for words. "Uh, perhaps I should go?"
Alia, her annoyance gone as quickly as it had come over her, immediately regretted the harshness in her tone. She quickly gave him her trademark smirk, "Well, you are on duty, if Brhode finds out you're here he'll burn all your books."
Chuck was pleased at the reprieve and took it immediately. He felt terribly. "Good point. I'd better go finish the fifteenth inventory of the weapons locker today." He felt he should apologize but couldn't articulate it. He was always bad at that. He looked to Alia and hoped she understood.
"Go on then!" Alia chuckled good naturedly and gave him a warm smile. Her eyes followed him as he left and then almost immediately she left her quarters herself, striding down the corridor to seek out one Eric Odin.
"A Little Chat."
by Lt. JG Alia Drakely, Security
and Lt. Commander Heather Sanchez (NPC), Security (written by Pat W.)
She was quite probably going to kill him. Then she would be thrown in the brig. Oh well, at least she'd have Chuck to talk to. Alia couldn't quite believe the audacity of the man. She had never let anyone else get away with anything like that - why should she start now, and with him. Even if he did look great lifting weights.
"Ah!! Alia gasped a she went running headlong into someone. That was all she needed.
Heather Sanchez cursed under her breath as the younger officer plowed into her on the blind turn in the corridor. "Dammit, Lieutenant..."the latino officer started. Then she paused a moment. "Drakely? Where the hell are you off to in such a hurry?
"Retribution." Alia muttered darkly, but then she remembered herself, "'Commander." She hurriedly added, pulling herself up straight.
"Freeze, Lieutenant'." Sanchez ordered, taking the familar stance of hands-on-hips. "Explain. Now." "Well..." Alia opened her mouth but then snapped it shut again. Taking a steadying breath she tried to get out of it as quickly as possible, "It's kind of personal." Alia explained with hopeful eyes.
"How long have you been on this ship now, Drakely? Six months? Then you should damn well know I'm not going to care. " Sanchez said, and then paused. "Look, Lieutenant. I've been on this ship a long team. Security isn't just a Department, we're family. You look pissed. You prbably have a reason. So fess up." : Alia sighed in defeat, "It's a man." She folded her arms across her chest, "He's rather liberally been telling people that we're an item. I myself have no such knowledge. We've barely met. And now it's turned into a rather...explicit story across the ship." Her jaw clenched as she remembered the suggestive wink that a passing man had given her a few moments ago.
"So I take it the story about you and Mr. Odin is not true?" Sanchez replied. She had now crossed her arms and was tapping her foot, a sure sign of annoyance.
And there was only one thing worse than an annoyed Heather Sanchez.
That was a pissed off Heather Sanchez.
Alia's eyes widened and she looked down at the deck, "I'm going to kill him..." she muttered under her breath. She looked back up,
"No, 'Commander, it is not." Alia was actually glad she had left her sword behind now - Sanchez would surely have her in the brig now otherwise.
"Ughh." the 'Commander spat out disgustedly. "That does it. That Trill's been screwing up the women on this ship (Writer's note: no pun intended) for far too damn long. Come on, Drakely. Let's go have a...chat with Mr. Odin."
Somehow, Alia Drakely doubted that a "chat" was what Sanchez had in mind.
"A warning"
by Lcdr Eric Odin
and Lcdr Navarre-Maxwell Shinta
Shinta prepared herself for the next session with Eric. It had been several days since she had seen him, and she hoped that he would not notice how bad she felt.
She waved him in when he appeared. "Have a seat, something to drink, Eric?"
"Just some coffee please." As he saw her get him it he smiled and said,"thank you."
"So tell me, how have you been doing?"
"I've been doing great. i met this woman named Alia drakely, she is such an incredible person. We've quickly become good friends. Ryan's been great and workouts have been good as well."He smiled.
Shinta did not like what she was hearing. Before speaking she took a couple of deep breath. Both these people will friends of hers, and she did not want this to be taken the wrong way. Yet she also felt that she had to do something.
"Eric, you know you have a reputation with women? I know it isn't always deserved. But with this lady I want you to go slowly. I don't want to see her hurt, because I care for her greatly. We have practically adopted her into our family. And she has been hurt in the past. I am not judging you., nor am I saying that you cannot have a relationship with her. But go slow." How much else could go wrong in her life at the moment, she thought.
He nodded and said,"I'll do my best Shinta and I don't want to cause any more pain than has to be. Shinta, I have a feeling about her, but I'll do my best to go slow."
"Please do, I will be keeping my eye on that." Shinta was distracted, she had slept bad. "I am glad you are restraining yourself with the workouts. The new Holo deck orders must help to." she smiled.
He nodded and said,"I've actually been doing recovery training in the regular workout room. That's how I met Alia, I'm sure she can tell you about it if you ask." He could tell she was tired and asked,"I know this is against counseling protocol, but are you alright Shinta?"
"I am fine. Thank you for are asking. I just had a bad night, nightmares again, nothing serious. No need to worry." She smiled nervously. "Couldn't be better, on top of the world. You know you and Ryan must come over again soon." She quickly changed the subject.
He noted the change in subject, but let it go for now. He smiled and said,"Yes, whenever is good for you we'd be more than happy to visit."
"Good." Shinta said. There was so much she wanted to discuss with him, so much she wanted to say. Yet something kept her back. A fear that if she told people, she would get them involved.
"You are indeed doing better, I will see you professionally again next week. And how would day after tomorrow suit you to come over with Ryan?"
He laughed and said,"It suits me just fine Shinta. That sounds great actually. Maybe we can get some talking between friends done there as well."
"I am sure we can. Keep up the good work, and remember I am still keeping my eye on you." She smiled, a little bit more relaxed now.
He grinned and said,"Yes ma'm. I'll see you soon." he got up with a smile still on his face disarming any of her pretensions about him being angry.
"A bug by any other name..."
Lt.j/g Lysander Van derPuls-Hawksley, Acting Asst.Chief Tactical Officer USS GALAXY
PO1st Tim 'The Terror' Mirapoints (NPC) Senior Chief Phaser Diagnostic Technician
Starboard Ventral Phaser Strip Power Collection Node and Relay Centre, Deck six, Compartment 6723
************************************************************
"...for upon us, there be fleas. Upon those tiny fleas ride legion of smaller parasties, in turn ridden by legions of yet more tiny craytures themselves, and so on beyond the eye nor ken of us. Which makes us ask the Gods, upon whose flesh do we, mankind, crawl like fleas? And upon what sort of life do THOSE craytures swarm upon yet, and so on and so on..."
-Collected lettres of Dr. G. Adams, London 1798
**************************************************************
"SMEG!" barked Lysander, as he stared at the control codes for the ship's nano-technology Repair drones. The frigging things just would NOT accept his instructions.
Terror leaned over Lysander's shoulder and chuckled. He was genuinely fond of the smart-mouthed Centaurian Lieutenant.
Not only because the guy didn't have the usual 'officer attitude' of 'push aside and ignore the ratings' to get promoted, but Lysander wasn't afraid to admit that the ratings knew a hell of a lot more about the workings of the machines than he ever would, and wasn't afraid to ask them to show him some things. Not like that damn hairball Caitian, who couldn't be bothered, or that bloodthirsty ladder-climber who was posing as Chief Tactical Officer right now.
But then, Mirapoints was a PO1 only because he'd been busted down from CPO no less than eight times for his inability to get along with members of their sister Service, the Federation Marines. Mirapoints felt it his duty to uphold the honor of the Fleet at each and every chance, in each and every bar at each and every Liberty Call...
So Lysander's knee-jerk dislike of regulations and rules found a kindred spirit in Mirapoints. The fact that Lysander wasn't afraid to get his hands or uniform dirty crawling around the access hatches was another plus to the Chief Technician.
"Look there kid, see where you set the 'mites to polish the collection plates again?"
Lysander stared hard at the offending code lines. "Yes. I see it. I've been seeing it for about three hours now. Smegging Princess wants the collection plates polished to some off-kilter parameters for some off-kilter plan of hers that no one can know anything about..." "Okay kid. Ignore what I have to say because you can't see past your bosses ass...I mean.. over twenty years doing this in the Merchant Marines and the Fleet, and you with your five years of Academy training, they maybe -told- you about programming nano-tech mites once or twice in passing, along the lines of 'we have them, but you probally won't live long wenough to have to know this...'"
"Sorry Chief, it's.. umm. personal problems. And my boss is too skinny to -have- an ass. Not that I'd look at Her Majesty twice..."
"Yeah. Whatever you say, Kid. I believe you. Look here...see the parameters you set for the removal of damaged portions of the collection plates? You weren't discrimanitory enough. you set the -new- parameters you want, but didn't modify the old parameters. Nano has layer upon layer upon layer of duplicted commands and backups, because Nano-tech is VERY dangerous. If you're not VERY precise in your instructions, you have a bajillion microscopic bug-machines crawling everywhere, unseen and deadly because -someone- buggered their programs. So here..."
And Tim re-adjusted the 'mite' programming by a few numbers within the code blocks and re-assigned them to a 'search' function that would make the changes ion all the backups and failsafes as well.
"You boss gets what she wants, and we don't have to re-code the 'mite hives' to reprogram everything. See? Everyone's happy." Mirapoints turned back to his portion of the task, cleaning the fused and blown relays so that the computer would 'acknowledge' the repairs and adjustments, and report correctly back to the Damage Control Computer the results. It was the easier of the two jobs.
Lysander shuddered. Nano-technology was something people had to live with, but the implications of accidental or intentional misuse were staggering in their application.
Trillions upon Trillions of programmed, self-replicating microscopic machines. Imagine if they, instead of repairing or constructing starhips at the molecular level...were programmed to destroy them? Or organic lifeforms...
"Hey chief?"
"What kid?" asked a distracted Terror.
"How come no one's ever used Nano for weapons?"
"One question would answer that. How would you shut it off?"
"Oh. Yeah." Lysander mused. But suppose, just suppose they couldn't replicate past a certain set time-limit? Planned obsalesence? Or hunter-killer nano machines that sought the others out? That might work asd a counter-measure too...
How to deliver something like that? Perhaps a slow torpedoe system? Mines? Hmmm.....
Lysander made several notes to himself in another portion of the database. As his new 'tools' crawled their way over the skin of the ship, en route to the Distress beacon...tiny fleas indeed to the majestic leviathin of the deeps of Space.
Far tinier than the specks riding in the belly of the beast...
"The one where she meets Sardar"
A Joint Post by
Lieutenant Sheree Sardar, Ops and
Kit Jordan, reporter
**
Along a winding corridor, Lt. Sardar sat cross-legged before an opened panel hatch, performing a simple diagnostic check over a junction power relay inside. A large repair kit laid beside her, as she tried to determine the reason for a power drop off in this section of the ship.
~ No degradation in the flow coils. The integrally looks good --- Hmmmmm --- I'm missing something here but what? I might have to call engineering for help but that'll be admitting that I can't fix this. ~
Her thoughts were interrupted when she sensed someone standing over her. Sardar glanced over her shoulder to see female civilian looking back down with a friendly (maybe too friendly) smile. She had dark raven hair and dressed in form fitting black leather pants.
She looked very familiar but Sardar couldn't remember where.
"That looks like an incredibly bah'ing job, cah fah some company?" The lady in leather asked with strange accent to her voice.
Shrugging her shoulders, Sardar gestured for the small brunette to sit down next to her. "Be my guest but I can't guarantee I'll be listening."
The brunette dropped down next to Sardar, leaning up against the corridor wall. "Gee, wah'm, loving, seh'vice with a smile. You must be Shah'ee Sa'dah."
The Sarrahban shot her a hard look. "Sharee Sardar, but close enough. Who might you be?"
"Kit Jah'dan; I'm a reportah with the Fedah'ration Dispatch." The woman announced proudly. "I was meaning to do a stah'ry about ya people since they joined the Fedah'ration a few yeahs back. Also I have some interest in you considering you wah among the first Sah'ahbans to join Stah'fleet."
"Oh, the reporter."
Sardar murmured, thinking. ~ What did Lt. Salt called her? Oh, yes! Papergirl! ~
They studied one another, mostly because the tall Sarrahban started it, looking over the much
shorter woman sitting at her side. Jordan knew she looked eager, but she couldn't help it; these people fascinated her. The race was vaguely like the Klingons but men and women had equal roles, as far as Jordan could tell. This was just now becoming prominent in Klingon culture.
The Sarrahban studied her and determined that she did not care for this person. First she was reporter and Sardar hated reporters. Secondly, this woman was too forward for her own good and third, that damn accent of hers was annoying. She wondered if her universal translator was working right.
Jordan could feel herself being judged. She got the feeling often, but rare was it so intense and so brutal as this. It was almost suffocating. The other woman's gaze was deep and harsh, and extremely critical, almost annoyed.
Turning away, Sardar went back to work. "What do you want and make it quick."
Jordan winced. Another difficult one. What the hell was it with this crew? "I'm just looking to ask you some questions."
"About what?"
"Standah'd fi'st intah'view, really," Jordan said, managing to pull herself together and out of the intimidated mindset. "I am looking fah background infah'mation about you, ya people, ya time in Stah'fleet and why a peh'son from a race of wah'yahs is doing OPS duty."
Shaking her head, Sardar had to admire the courage of this little person. "Perhaps I like the change in pace. May I ask a question?"
"Suah."
"When the Captain limited all civilians to just 8 percent of the ship, was it intended mainly for you?"
Jordan half cringed half laughed and shrugged. "E'yup. thada be my fault, Brhode and I didn't hit it off, so to speak. He throws quite a tempah tantrum, if I may say so."
Sardar gave Jordan another look before turning the diagnostic tool over her comm-badge. After a few passes, the Sarrahban check the readings. The universal translator built into her comm-badge was indeed working perfectly. She actually talks like this?!
"I must admit: you had quite the opposite effect on the rest of the male members of this crew."
"I'm not quite suah what you mean."
"Oh, nothing much beyond the possibility of them drowning in their own drool when they talk about you and your --- leathers." Sardar commented. "Much different than when they talk about me. They generally laugh nervously and quickly change the subject."
"Leathah pants can get you fah," Jordan said, laughing, brushing a curly strand of hair away from her face with a gentle hand. "It's not too difficult. We could likely replicate ya a pah."
"Do you have an aversion to the letter r?" Sardar question, raising an eyebrow.
"Pah'don? Oh! Oh. It's wah I was bah'n. Just… how we all speak, I suppose, I don't really know how to talk othah'wise. 'Cept in Bajoran, I suppose, and that would likely be quite a barriah." The tall Amazon woman was the first on the ship to mention anything and Jordan felt a pang of regret that she spoke the way she did-it had to throw off the translators. Guilt, oh. Never a good thing. Jordan cleared her throat. "'E'yuh, I can pah'k my huh'vah cah ne'ah Ha'vah'd Yah'd,'" she quoted. "It's a saying that used to get a laugh from my friends on Bay'zhah."
Sardar cocked an eyebrow and Jordan's face fell a little as she chewed on the inside of her cheek sheepishly. It threw her off again, that look, the look that seemed to say, 'get away from me you short scrawny little mouse.' Sardar went back to her work and Jordan managed a smile as a question came to mind.
"You must really like Captain Brhode, being as you ah from such a milit'ry race."
"I'm not sure about liking Brhode but I was brought up to respect authority and he's the commanding officer and we must support him. For better or worse." Sardar said. "However, since my time in Starfleet, especially during my stay on the USS Lincoln, I was fascinated by the ship's Captain. She was able to command the respect of her crew without the need to bully them, which was common within our forces. I admired her for that."
"Why did you decide on Stah'fleet? And uh… hell… What can I do that will make you stop looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I've bugs crawling out of my eahs."
To Jordan's amazement, the stone face Sarrahban actually smiled.
"My apologies, I just never heard anyone like you before. When Lt. Salt mentioned about your Bostonian accent, I naturally asked which planet was that." Sardar chuckled.
Jordan grinned. "It might as well be a different planet; the real Bah'stonians ah quite chah'mahs, I must say. We ah full of little eccentricities and qui'ahks… who is this Lieutenant Salt?"
"She works in security and the first person I befriended since coming onboard. Lt. Astrid Salt quite headstrong at times and surprisingly not afraid to stand up to me. We meant in the ship's music hall. She plays the keyboard and I enjoy playing the violin."
"The violin?" Jordan questioned, arching her eyebrows with a smirk. "You play the violin? You must be joking."
"Why do people keep saying that?" Sardar grumbled. "Why is it such a surprise that I play a musical instrument? Hmmmm! Then again, people can't believe that Salt is in security because she's so short."
"Compahed to you, I'm suah most people ah shaht," Jordan replied. "I'm not exactly tall myself, but I can push around the best of them."
Sardar was starting to like this Human. In a way she reminded her of Lt. Salt, in being a little firecracker in personality and drive. She would like to be able to call her a friend.
"For your one question about my decision to join Starfleet, I signed up because I had little chance of moving up in the ranks in the Space navy. The sad truth is that on my homeward, if you don't have money or powerful friends, you won't succeed career wise. I could had stayed forever as a grunt in the Space navy but after two years in Starfleet, I'm now an officer with authority."
"I undah'stand about the money and powah'ful friends." Jordan said with a smirk. "Through histah'ry that's a big pah't of Bah'ston. But I have to ask, ah you happy, doing something so fah from what is considahed typical on ya home planet?
"Operations was not what I had in mind but it's challenging and I respect my Department Chief," Sardar said, focusing on fixing the power relay.
"On the Lincoln, you struggled to get out of OPS to be a Tactical Officer and finally got it, but when you were transfeh'ed to the Galaxy, you requested to be put back in OPS. I must say I don't undah'stand… why?"
Sardar gave her an accusing glance. "You have been checking my bio history."
Jordan nodded. "I always know the people I'm going to be… ah… weh'king with. Why the sudden 180 tuh'n in ya career?" she asked, pressing gently.
The Sarrahban took in a breath and decided she had to tell someone, who wasn't a hologram sparring partner. Jordan was a civilian and although she was a reporter, perhaps she could be trusted. "Off the record?"
Jordan nodded. Sardar stared at her a moment, critically. "What? Off the recah'd, thah is no switch, it's just off the recah'd, I promise."
Sardar frowned a moment then nodded slowly. "After a month becoming a Tactical Officer, I was on duty when a ship was fast approaching the Lincoln. It wouldn't answer our hails and the Captain ordered us to go to red alert. I raised the shields and armed phasers. The ship was a large Orion cargo runner, a fast vessel often used by raiders for it's fast speed and ability to be equipped with heavy weapons. It was on an apparent attack run and I told the Captain as much and asked permission to open fire, she refused. It's behavior and refusal to answer hails made it a threat in my mind and I even suggested warning shot but the Captain still refused. The Captain was only interested in hailing the ship or performing evasion action."
Sardar paused for a moment and looked shamefully to the deck. "At the last minute, the vessel finally did hail us. They were a shipload of refugees fleeing a Breen assault on their world. They had several people onboard in direr need of medical treatment and being in panic to get help, they weren't monitoring the communications correctly."
"I don't undah'stand why this made you go back to OPS."
"I was about to disobey the Captain's orders and my finger was actually started to press down the fire button when the refugees finally got the smarts to hail us. I would have killed 500 people just because I thought I was right and the Captain was wrong. I honestly believed we were going to be attacked but my instincts were way off that day.
"So after that, I kept what I almost did a secret but couldn't trust myself at Tactical any longer. Thankful a week later I got my transfer to the Galaxy were I quietly requested to be put back into OPS where the most dangerous weapon I hold now is a laser torch."
"My, how the mighty fall." Jordan whispered.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing, sah'ry, I think out loud." She frowned. "So now you ah afraid of ya'self… many people would have done similah, you know that, right?"
"Not everyone would have been ready to disobey Captain's orders," she said. "I thought the Captain was recklessly gambling with our lives on a hunch of all things. A Sarrahban commander wouldn't have taken a chance like that."
"I will nevah undah'stand Stah'fleet officahs, try as I may," Jordan said, laughing softly as she shook her head. "Hell, I disobey my editah all the time."
"In journalism, lives aren't at stake," Sardar said.
"You would be sah'prised, my friend, wahds ah sometimes the most dangah'rous weapons one can posses… they change histah'ry, the cah'se of events. With the right wahds, it is possible to assassinate someone without fiahring a shot. In jahnalism, sometimes, I think, one needs more scruples than any othah field of wahk. It's amazing really." She smiled softly. "Speaking of wahk, I'll let you get back to ya's, I don't want eithah of us to get in trouble with that hell fiah captain. If ya want to have drinks o' something some time, just let me know, I'd love to."
"It was nice meeting you Jordan," Sardar said sincerely. "And I would like to take you up on that offer sometime. Unfortunately, I got a million things to do before then."
Jordan smiled at the other woman as she pushed herself to her feet and moved down the corridors, back toward her quarters.
“Response from an angel”
By Lt (jg) Heather Grant-Wellington
Helmsman
USS Galaxy
******Flight Crew Lounge, Upper Level Main Shuttlebay******
Ten minutes after leaving shuttle systems programing, Heather still felt like she was forgetting something. Taking a glass of cold water from the replicator, she took a seat in the Flight Crew Lounge and began to go over the three PADDs she held in her hand. One of these PADDs was the recent download of her personal messages, which she hoped contain a response to her quest for a new co-pilot. The other two contained mission instructions and shuttle systems check results. Relaxing into the sofa, she took a couple sips of her water and began scanning the contents of her messages. Most of the messages were from her small group of friends, wishing her well on the trip and having a last minute gripe about something or rather. And then, there it was. Someone had written back. Excited like a child on Christmas morn, Heather opened the file. Quickly, she read what it had to say in hope that who ever it was, was going to be available to fly within the hour.
“Thank-you counsellor. You’re an angel.” She uttered to herself, prior to sending a brief response of ‘Counsellor, thanks for answer. Welcome aboard. Leave within the hour. No prep needed. Grant-Wellington.’
Sipping some more of her water to calm her excitement down, Heather finally moved onto reading the shuttle preparations reports. All was in perfect working order and the engineers’ upgrades were ready to go. In her mind, the mission was simple. All she was to do was fly out to the rim and collect data on the affects of radiation, as well as map her section of the nebula so the Galaxy had at least one reference point to rely on when exiting. Finishing her water and checking her chronometer, Heather took a brief glance around the room, then got up to return to the shuttle. The day was still young and there was plenty to do.
"On the way"
In a remote corner of unexplored space, the United Starship Galaxy moved like a white-hot needle against the inky darkness of the interstellar void. The multicolored static discharges rolled off the screaming Warp Nacelles, as the mammoth engines harnessed energies on a scale unrivaled in nature. Even the violent cataclysm that created the vast Mako Nebula (now dropping quickly astern) were nothing compared to the vast throbbing of power that beat deep within Galaxy's heart.
It was a strange irony of the universe that more power resided in the relatively fragile core of a Starship's drive systems, than in the center of the hottest star in creation.
When she was first launched, Galaxy was the fastest ship in the Milky Way, pushing back the frontiers of speed to previously unreachable levels. Now nearly 17 years later newer and faster ships had wrested away her previously held speed records, but the venerable Leeding Systems FWG-70 Warp Drive was still amongst the most powerful in the fleet, capable of pushing Starfleet's Largest ship at speeds up to 9.8 (and maybe a hair beyond)
Aboard the Main Bridge however the only indication that these terrible energies were being released was a soft pastel glow on Lt. Commander Gustavson's LCARS display. The Space-Boomer Flight Officer noted the glow with a raised eyebrow of possible concern, but was content to merely monitor it for the moment.
Galaxy was currently well below its Engine-Failure Tolerances, but sustained travel at their current Warp 9.0 was not good for the systems in any event. Each hour above their cruise velocity of Warp 6.5 meant approximately four more hours of maintenance and re-calibration for Engineering once the emergency was over.
Galaxy had been at 9.0 for an hour now, and would remain there for approximately one more, so it was apparent that the boys in Yellow were going to be putting in some overtime to pick up the pieces.
As it was Raginald was still sweating from the quickest Multiple-Shuttle-Recovery in the history of Starfleet. Before they left the Nebula, Captain Brhode had Lieutenant von Ernst mentally compute the optimum intercept courses, and forced Raginald to swoop in on them at trans-light speeds braking at only the last seconds to scoop them up forcefully with the Main Tractors. Galaxy had been zipping off to the next shuttle at Warp speeds before the first was even fully retracted into the Shuttle bays.
Needless to say the Shuttle crews had been quite surprised and severely shaken about by the violent maneuvers.
Gustavson tapped a fingernail on the LCARS warning, silently 'willing' it to stay under critical levels. He didn't think Captain Brhode would accept 'broken engines' as a valid excuse for failure.
A few meters behind the Helmsman, Captain John Brhode sat back in his Command chair and monitored his officer's activity levels on his little armrest display. He too noted the worrisome power fluctuations on the Helm sub-monitor but was determined to press onwards. If the Galaxy fell apart at the first little emergency it came across then obviously he had his work cut out for him in continuing to clean house.
The ship would maintain proper Starfleet standards and decorum by god or there'd be hell to pay.
Twisting slightly in his cushioned seat., the New Captain attempted to get comfortable (Damned chair was entirely too plush for Brhode's tastes. )
~~~Frazzing Luxury Liner~~~ he grumbled.
"Lieutenat von Ernst!" he snapped, "Its been six hours, Where are my phasers?"
Standing on her tip-toes behind the Captain's head, the petite form of the Galaxy's Tactical Chief gulped and quickly consulted her displays.
"Ummm.they.they're on the way. S.sir." She explained haltingly. "I.I.put Lieutenant Hawksley on it
. H.he's got a team down in the Power Collection Node right now."
"Sloppy..Damn Sloppy!" Brhode grumped. "Whoever oversaw that original modification should have paid more attention to applying the sealant. Whats the point of shielding the Phasers from the Mako radiation if you cant even use them in an emergency?"
Rebecca flexed her calves painfully and shrugged. She was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but seeing as she didn't have an answer anyways: "A.aye sir."
Except for a brief return to quarters in order to don a fresh uniform, Rebecca had remained at her post (taking over for Lt. Zarides) ever since the distress call came in. Further scans had managed to reveal little more other than the fact that a vessel of unknown configuration was broadcasting a wide band distress call from a position roughly 8 light years beyond the Mako Nebula.
The myriad gasses of that strange stellar explosion were already fading to aft as the Galaxy streaked along, but the sheer size of the Nebula still ensured that it dominated half the sky.
The unimaginable scale of interstellar space was quickly brought home to the skittish young officer, and for one of the first times she found herself observing the universe around her in a manner other than purely mathematical. Space was 'pretty' too.
Unfortuantely a sharp twinge in her left ankle also reminded her that she had also been standing on tip toes for the last six hours as well. Her cherished barstool had mysteriously disappeared a few days before, and Rebecca rather doubted Captain Brohde would see fit to allow her a replacement.
"If Starfleet had meant Tactical Officer to sit they wouldn't have issued you legs Lieutenant!" seemed to be the possible reply from the by-the-book Captain.
In a way however Rebecca found the regimented style of Captain Brohde a bit easier to handled than Captain Price's more relaxed attitudes. Brhode's likes and dislikes could easily be predicted based on the Starfleet Code of Regulations and Procedures, and as long as Rebecca stayed within those boundaries he gave her little notice.
He asked something...she did it...and that was that.
He didn't bother with 'please' or 'thank you', and she didn't have to be burdened with unwelcome social graces or niceties.
In short, Brhode was a simple equation with few variables. A+B always equaled C, and all she had to do was stay out of the way.
~~~Simple~~~ she sighed , ~~~That is if Lysander can get those plates polished up.~~~
"A good day"
by
Ensign Friedrich Wilhelm Arentshorst
Science Officer
With the unauto. use of: James Mitchell, Rose Isis MacAllen and Maxwell-Navarre Shinta
When leaving the main science lab after his talk with Mitchell, Friedrich felt very good. He had the feeling that James had put a lot of trust in him and he was eager to show he was worth it. As he recalled the small remarks made by James about the chain of command, "You didn't hear that ensign," he got a smile on his face, he was very curious about this captain Brhode.
He than looked at the padd he was holding in his hand. It had the command codes on it that he needed for the new Cultural Sciences Department of which James had just made him the head. Wow, that was a true challenge all right!
Now he had to go to Rose to receive his duty assignment and his duty roster. As he approached her office he ran into Wilhem, "Oh hi there Friedrich, well I'm running late already so talk later ok." "Sure, no problem." And he saw his college continue walking trough the hallway with great steps.
It took a while before he heard the voice of Rose saying enter. He walked into the office and noticed Rose standing with her back towards him behind her desk. Being unsure what to do he started, "Lt. Commander Mitchell send me her to pick up my roster. Still Rose did not say anything. "Are you ok Lieutenant," he asked.
It look a few seconds before Rose firmly turned around. "I'm fine ensign, here is your roster. You are with the Beta team, doing the Laboratory station." Friedrich looked at the woman not knowing what to say. "Any questions ensign?" "No ma'am," he humbled. Rose continued."I suggest you put your spare time to good use, the next couple of days will be very busy onces.
"Will do," Friedrich said and he went to the turbolift to get to his room. As he walked into the lift he saw somebody was already in it. He looked into the green eyes of a bajoran woman. It was a very attractive woman he had not seen on the ship before, but that applied for most of the shipscrew. He greeted the woman with a simple hi, when entering the lift.
The woman looked at him for a second before stretching out a hand towards him, "I'm Navarre, I don't believe we have been introduced. No, you're right, Friedrich smiled. "I'm Friedrich, just got aboard, I'm with the science department. "Oh, I think Mitchell told me he had a new ensign running with him. I'm the ships Ast. Chief Counselor, she continued.
Friedrich simply could not help but blushing when looking into her green eyes. "No need to blush ensign," she smiled. "It's just these elevator conversations you know," Friedrich said. "That must be it," the counselor answered. They both had to laugh. Tell me Friedrich, what did you do before you went to the Galaxy and the academy?" "Studying, first Literature & Culture at Leiden University and after that Romulan culture at Princeton University."
She looked him in the eyes again. "Literature huh, well, why don't you quote me some fine literature before I go back to work. Friedrich blushed again but not wanting to make a complete fool out himself, he thought for a second, than looked her in the eyes and said:
- Let me stand here till thou remember it.
- I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, - Remembring how I love thy company.
- And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, - Forgetting any other home but this.
**Deck 18** , the turbolift stopped
"Well, I've to get out here, going to my very own living quadrant. It was nice meeting you Navarre." "Same here ensign Friedrich." "Deck 14, Counseling office." And gone she was. Friedrich felt great, this was the best day onboard so far*.
To be continued*
"Sidelined"
JP Story by
Lt. Sheree Sardar
Lt (jg) Autumn Maeribeth Quevvenson
and (NPC) Lt. (jg) Astrid Salt
"I don't believe this!" Salt murmured, holding a cooling pad to the nasty bruise on her forehead before turning to her friend sitting beside her on the bio-bed. "And you started it!"
"Me?" Sardar protested with a bloody lip and injured shoulder. "If I remembered correctly, Ensign Bilton was one who suggested that we do away with the touch rules for the game 'football'."
"But he wasn't one who dropped Cartwright face first into the deck!"
"He attacked you!"
"He tackled me because I had the ball!" Salt shouted.
"Hush!" A nearby nurse as she attended to a patient with a sprang knee, warning for the two to keep their voices down.
Salt sighed, trying to keep her cool. "Okay, maybe it was my fault for not explaining the rules better. Especially when those dick heads decided to play the macho version of the game football instead."
"I'm sorry, Astrid." Sardar apologized. "I didn't mean to cause any problems."
"It's okay, it's not like anyone got killed. Thank God!"
Salt and Sardar glanced around in sickbay which was pretty well filled with the rest of both teams from the game.
What started out as friendly game of touch football between 16 crew members quickly erupted into a brawl between the two teams in the ship's spacious gym. Apparently the two team captain's on both sides had a running grudge and decided to go to full body contact. The crew had a lot of built up frustration with having a new and unpopular Captain; the sudden change in the working hours; and the complete termination of all holo-deck privileges.
Something finally decided to give.
Sardar for herself was confused by the change in the rules and when she saw Salt being knocked to the deck with Cartwright on top of her, the Sarrahban took action. Racing over, she grabbed him by the shirt and belt, hauling up into the air off of Salt before dropping him hard to the deck.
That action started the brawl.
There was pushing, shoving, and someone was stupid enough to take a swing at Sardar. The offender was now in the corner of sickbay nursing two black eyes received from the Sarrahban.
Salt tried to break it up but someone pushed her to the deck again where she hit her head. When she regained her senses, bystanders in the gym were stepping in to help break it up. The wounded where taken to sickbay. Five in all were hurt but thankfully nothing serious.
"Oh gee Salt what is it with you lot being in here?" Autumn Quevvenson asked as she moved over to them.
"Hey, doc," Salt greeted the raven hair medical officer, joking. "I bet you didn't expected this when you got up this morning."
"No I didn't" Autumn shook her head as she grabbed a tricorder to scan them.
"I bet Captain Brhode will be thrilled when he hears this." Salt admitted with a sense of dread.
"And you think I am gonna tell that Buzz cut jerk?" Asked Autumn as she scanned Salt "Not bloody likely mate" she added in a bad impression of Price, the old captain.
"I fine doc, I just hit my head." Salt answered. "I wonder if I can sue anyone?"
"Yeah well I still have a law suit against Lord Vlad.. and I can't get anything from it...you won't have a chance." Autumn replied with a grin.
Sardar pointed to her left shoulder. "I'm afraid I dislocated my shoulder in the fight. I was knocked down and I landed on it pretty hard on it and someone kicked me for good measure."
Shaking her head Autumn sighed. "What were you guys doing? Arresting Gorns?" She grabbed the wand and began to fix Sardar's shoulder.
The Human and Sarrahban glanced at one another.
"Well... we... " Salt started. "it's a long story."
"We were playing football." Sardar interjected.
Salt nodded. "Yeah, that's what we did alright."
"And Eric Odin sticks to bed sports" Autumn quipped back. "Well that one rouch game of rugby you played"
"Did we win?" Sardar suddenly asked Salt.
"Did we win?! You crazy beanstalk!" Salt hissed. "We're in sickbay with the third of both teams. We all lost and if Captain Fire and Brimstone finds out we'll probably cleaning the ship's waste systems with our tongues!"
Autumn wrinkled her nose up.
"I see." Sardar said, digesting the information before looking at Autumn who was attending to her shoulder. "How is your progress doctor?"
"You'll live Lieutenant."
"She want's to know if she'll ever play the violin again." Salt sarcastically added as thoughts of facing Brhode danced heavily in her head. "I can kiss that new pip I got good-bye."
"Aw come on Astrid.. I am sure old grizzle guts will be ok about it.. and no one here is gonna spill the beans."
"I'm screwed," Salt said in a panicked voice. "He's the type to make an example, a painfully and torturous example."
"You're worried," Sardar said softly before awkwardly patting Salt on the back with her good arm. "There, there. All will be well."
The small blonde glanced up to the larger woman next to her. "Not helping, Sardar!"
Autumn laughed and placed a hand on Salt's shoulder. "Look if he asks me.. you lot were never here.. and the others agree. RIGHT?!" She called out and everyone nodded in agreement. "No use getting into trouble over something so small." She finished on Sardar's shoulder. "try your shoulder Lieutenant."
Sardar test her left shoulder by moving her arm carefully about. "It feels good as new, doctor. Thank you, I'm in your debt."
Smiling Autumn packed up the equipment. "All part of the service"
"Doc, how about just getting me an aspirin for my headache and shot of booze to calm my nerves." Salt suggested.
"The aspirin I can deal out.. as for the other one... go to ten forward and ask Leo." Autumn smirked. "He might have another cure for you so make sure is alcohol.. and not the other thing."
"What other thing?" Sardar inquired.
Salt sighed, and whispered into Sardar's ear. The Sarrahban eyes narrowed slightly as she listened and immediately asked. "Why would anyone want that?"
Throwing up her hands, Salt grumbled. "You're impossible sometimes! Are we good to go doc?"
Autumn nodded. "Yeah go on.. get some rest the both of you." she said with a good natured smile.
"Bugs..get them OFF me!..."
Empty musings in the place of work from the disturbed mind of
Lt. j/g Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley, Acting Asst.Chief Tactical Officer USS GALAXY
************************************************************************
Lysander heaved an enormous sigh and turned his attention back to the LCARS here in the Phaser Command Relay Center. The center dealt with the supervision and monitoring of the Ventral Phaser Strip, and Lysander was supposed to be re-programming the Nano-mite 'hives' to have the nanotech machines remotely re-seal the collection plates located on the ship's 'skin'. If the usual remote-control features didn't work, he or Chief Mirapoints would have to go EVA in a Workbee and replace a few Nano-Repair nodes with the ship's Engineers.
Not for the first time today, he felt his mind drifting away from the redundant levels of program code and into several problems he'd been having lately.
Firstly: Amy Green. Lysander re-set the safety protocols to ignore any and ll organic materials and considered the brunette Counselor. She'd been re-assigned to supervise the education of the children, and apparently was looking for 'THE MAN' to help her complete her nesting instincts. This was the point of contention Lysander had with relationships. He'd never stuck around to this stage before and he wasn't sure how to get himself out of it. Every date with Amy seemed to end up in a discussion why Lysander was 'unsuitable' for a long term relationship. He agreed with her on every point and wondered what to do next.
Lysander reset the mites to polish the collector plates on a cyclic basis, and made sure that the redundant back up routines had the same schedule. That'd been the mistake last time, whoever programmed it didn't account for the backup instructions matching the primary directives.
The nano-tech fascinated Lysander. he knew the Abletive Armour was maintained by nano-mites, and that most of the exterior maintance aboard the ship was done via the mites, but to consider the sheer number of them out there...it was staggering to him.
Lysander's mind next considered the problem of James Corgan. The man apparently had some sort of 'hate-on' for Lysander currently, and a very strange conversation had happened that very day in the gymnasium. Lysander put Corgan under the 'ouot of my control' category and moved on to the problem that was -really- foremost in his mind.
Smeggin Princess...
Why didn't Rebecca act like she did back at the Academy? When Lysander had been rudely pulled out his Stellar Cartography/Navigation classes and thrown (bodily!) into a Flight Ops and Tactical dual major, he'd wondered why the bookish 'Cadet Cloaking Device' had received the same treatment.
Back at the Academy, Lysander had always been on the thin edge of being kicked out, Rebecca had always done nothing but plug away at her precious mathematics. Each had cheerfully ignored the presence of the other...or had they?
Lysander had always been irritated that every Mathematics class, his scores were second to hers. He was VERY pissed when his tactical high scores were replaced by those of someone who didn't even know they HAD a simulation that day, usually.
For three years, the tiny 'ghost' had been right there, blinking in surprise that no one understood her on the few occasions she did open her mouth.
Then, after five horrible years of death and mayhem, Lysander gets a cushy berth on -THE- USS GALAXY and finds you-know-who his Department Chief. ANd BAM, she's promoted to second Officer over the heads of several higher ranking officers.
Of all the people in Starfleet Lysander had served under, Rebecca had to be the least capable for the job. Idly, he wondered if she tossed her cookies on a subordinate, if it'd be considered striking a subordinate officer?
During his four years at the Academy, Lysander had asked Rebecca out on a social date twice, once as a prank, and once for real. Neither time had she ever acknowledged even the offer. He'd tried again right after he'd apparently hurt her feelings at the Wolf-359 school, only to receive the same 'blank' treatment.
And suddenly, Rebecca was in his head and his dreams. He found himself actually seeking her out, hoping that he'd 'run into' her off duty...
Why?
Corgan had accused him of having romantic designs on the tiny red- head...could that be it?
Nooooooooo...
Lysander never committed. Lysander never put other people before himself...
Usually...
With a weary sigh, he reset another variable in the code and moved to another block of programming.
If people were computers, they'd be easier to understand. Why can't you just plonk constant variable "a" into a subset and get result "c" based upon an irregular operation "b"? It'd be so much easier...
Smeggin Princess...
Thinking about made his head hurt.
And his heart...
"You Know Lysander, I Think This is the Start of a Beautiful Non- Friendship?"
By Lt.j/g Lysander VanderPuls Hawksley, Acting Assistant Chief Tactical Officer, USS Galaxy
And
Lt. James Lionel Corgan, Assistant Chief Operations Officer, USS Galaxy
Location: Gymnasium, deck 14
A rhythm repeated in James Corgan s workout.
Punch kick, punch kick, jab jab jab, smash!
He worked over the punching bag with practiced brutality. He saw the need for a fighting style that didn t involve the quickest way to kill a sentient. He needed to channel his rage into a sport that allowed him to vent his rage and forget all that s happening. It had to engross him, challenge him and make him test his physical limits every time he wanted to go out and hurt something.
He found it all in French Savate Kickboxing. His first lesson was punches and kicks. Previous experience in Aybo Jutsu (Starfleet s official self defense martial art) taught boxing, which made the moves in Savate easier to learn.
Punch, punch, jab, cut! Punch, punch, jab, cut!
Low and behold, out of the corner of his eye, he spied a man pulling off his fencing helmet. He was casually observing the fencing match while learning his basic moves. One of the opponents swaggered around and played with the opponent like a cocky cat playing with a frightened mouse. He would react slow and allow his opponent to come closer and fight. Then, when the fencer became bored, he would attack, overwhelm his partner, and strike a point.
James stopped pummeling the punching bag. It swayed back and forth, and he caught it with both hands, leaning on it as he caught his breath.
"I d like to take that guy down a notch." He groaned, "Who does this guy think he is?"
The answer was simple. He was the myth, the legend, and the man. Women loved him, men wanted to be like him. Known throughout the ship as Lovemonkey and Playboy , there was only one man that could match the description of the fencer.
Lieutenant jg. Lysander Van der Puls Hawksley. In realization, James thought, "Oh god, not that pretty boy.
On the piste, Lysander allowed himself a small smirk. His opponent was a Terran Lieutenant from Engineering. He'd already made the same mistake three times in a row, reacting to a series of feints and double-feints before seizing Lysander's fake attack and launching his own riposte. Lysander had caught the riposte with his own counter-riposte each time, slamming the foil point into a wide open outer-line torso. The score was now four-null, his favour.
But, the tactic probally wouldn't work a fifth time. Lysander wiped the sweat off his brow and replaced his mask. His opponent came 'en-garde' and...
"ALLEZ!"
The point of Lysander's foil shot out behind a ramrod stiff arm. Point-in-line taking the priority. The opponent would have to deal with it first. He advanced threatening with the point...the goober attempted a parry, Lysander disengaged underneath it, still holding the point...
And lunged 'passa sota' UNDER the counter-attack! Catching himself with his unarmed back hand on the floor, the point 'thudding' into the padded practice jacket and the opponent's point passing through the space formerly occupied by Lysander. He'd exposed his undefended back by 'falling' like that, but the blind attack worked!
The scoring wall lit up in a riot of red light. Lysander won five-null.
"Ooooo-pey LA!" Lysander had shouted at the hit. Pulling his mask off to bounce on the floor, he shook his partners hand. "Did you SEE that? god I love that double feint in time...nice bout. Let's do it again sometime." Lysander babbled, wondering who the monkey scowling at him was from the unarmed combat workout space.
With a nonchalant shrug, he reclaimed his mask and eyed the 'fan club' hanging around the fencing salle space.
"Anyone up for sabre? Or foil? Or epee? Oil massage? Whatever..." he asked, swishing his foil through the air a few times.
Tempting as it may have been, Corgan had to pass. His last bout with a sabre nearly cost him his life. Even then, sword fighting was not his specialty.
He preferred the more honest, dependable fighting styles that didn t rely on a foreign object, or at least a decent firearm. He saw Lysander in action.
There was no way in hell that he could defeat the fencer, or worse, if he tried, Lieutenant Hawksley would easily humiliate him in front of all the people in the gymnasium, just like his last opponent.
Lysander took notice in James scouting. Eye to distant eye, they locked wary stares. Shielding as much as possible, Corgan scowled. The last thing he needed was to have the pretty boy try to pick him out.
Something about the scowling man was niggling Lysander's memory...oh well..smeg it. He turned his attention to the pretty blonde and her friend.
James was tempted to upstage Lysander, to bring the man back down to earth. He encountered plenty of the pompous asses, most of them from Red Squad during his near inception into the elite group. He hated them, because they received the best treatment,the most popularity, all the women, and they took it all for granted. Just once, he wanted to see one of the great gods of the Academy fall flat on his face. He wanted to be the one to call the people and show the world just how great they really are. To pull off the mask, to show Starfleet s greatestlie, to show everyone that the elite are just people, was a dream he couldnt fulfill at the academy. Except once, when he himself was rejected due to his mental instability. The mighty once fell, and he wanted everyone to feelhis pain.
~ That s not right. I m an officer now, and I ve outlived and outfought most of those stuck up brats. There s no need for animosity. ~ He thought, but really fooled himself. Lysander was the enemy of old. How could he forget what his kind did back in the old days?
His personal goading got the better of him. Lieutenant Corgan gathered his nerve, and faced a lesser known demon, manifested as Lysander. Determined to put the punk back in his place, he veiled his true feelings with an unassuming face, confidently taking a stroll to the fencing salle.
Turning away from the blonde "Fencing Groupie",Lysander eyed the approaching guy. He knew him from somewhere...
"Hey... you're ummm... Cirrigan? Corgan? Collender? I know you from... was it...wait... Academy... '73. Red Squadron! I know I knew you...how's it going buddy?"
"No, you do not know me." James Corgan frankly explained, "And I wasn t a Red Squad member. Don t ask it's a long story. But I ve heard a lot about you since the academy. I am Lieutenant Corgan. Call me James."
"No, but I remember your holo from the selection process. I knew I remembered your face. I got bounced off Red Squad right after you applied. Of course they let me back on..." The blonde groupie trilled a fake giggle here, as Lysander delivered the punchline.
"They had to, there was no one else who could touch me for piloting! Though lots of women tried...wait...I sound like Streely, nevermind."
Lysander remembered him now. Another cadet applicant to Red Squadron who washed out for some reason. Where had this guy ended up? Marines? Security? Something groundpounding...
"Oh. Umm...okay. You ever fenced before? There's some spare kits, and I can give you a quick lesson on the basics...sport fencing's not like combat stuff..." Lysander's voice trailed off. There was an odd light in this guy's eyes. Despite his usual denials, Lysander was one of the 'nerve centers' of the ship's rumour mill, and he'd heard a LOT about James Corgan lately.
Likewise, James picked up a lot of rumours, a habit instilled during his days at security. Being unpopular and ignored had its advantages. Most people ignored him, little realizing they just spilled out a secret he picked up and saved for later. Lately, there was a lot of buzz going on about Lysander, most of it unconfirmed. "Combat no, it isn t. Believe it or not, smacking people around isn t my specialty, much less with swords. Maybe I ll take you up on those fencing lessons, if you don t mind me drilling you on how to operate a Type Three Phaser?" He invited. To him, it was fair enough. He heard about Lysander s skill with the sword, and James couldn t match it if he wanted to. At least on the rifle range, the ormer academy marksman champion had the advantage. Somehow this balanced everything out.
Lysander had to laugh here. "Tell you what, you get me and Princess Phaserban...errr... Lieutenant Von Ernst up to Sanchez's snuff with a Phaser II and I'll trade you some lessons in sport or combat swordsmanship. Deal?"
"Ok then what are we going to play?" Corgan questioned. The pleasantries were over. He mentally prepared himself to challenge Lysander to any declared sport. He hoped for something zero gee, his spacer upbringing taught him to navigate low gravity by the time he was five. At the same time, he wished Lt. Hawksley didn t pick a sport where he would have to hurt him. The point was to put him in his place, not maul the poor man into hamburger, and even then, what if the pretty boy had some teeth?
Lysander blinked and stared at the OPS guy in confusion.
"Umm.. I really...don't...do we have to 'play' anything?" Lysander moved off the fencing piste and allowed the cute Ensign and her friend to practice the epee disengages drills. What was this guy asking him? Where was this confrontational stuff coming from? Lysander was just here to practice, and do a workout...
"Look, I have...umm...errr...I'm going next door to do some circuit training. If you want to talk..about anything...just follow me." Lysander scooped up the long duffel with his old Academy fencing gear and lugged it out the hatch. He popped his mask on, as his hands were full.
"Very well." James cordially said, " Whatever you want. Lead the way."
Lysandr nodded a greeting to some other guy wearing a fencing mask out in the hallway...odd that...Lysander could count on one hand all the actual fencers on the ship...he'd never seen that mask before...oh well...Dark and Gruesome was bent on following Lysander, obviously he had something to say.
They made their way to the circuit training area. Corgan unwrapped his bandaged fists and tossed the cloths into the nearest waste reciprocal. He left the garbage can far behind, leaving the cloths to be vaporized and recycled.
Lysander casually tossed his gear into a corner, behind the treadmills and eyed the circuit training portion of the room. To one side, free weight benches and equipment scattered the deck, held in place by electromagnetic 'latches' in case of gravetic failure or erratic ship movements.
To the other side of the room, various 'stations' or resistance machinery designed for muscle groupings scattered the deck. Each station occupied by personnel flexing and lifting.
Since Bhrode's restrictions of Holodeck use, off hours exercise had taken a sharp upswing. It was almost 'by appointment' during Beta Shift hours now.
Lysander settled into a vacant 'Lat pull down' machine and started a series of low-weight, hi rep exercises.
Corgan had to bide his time. Patience was valuable at the moment, since Lysander was so reluctant to try a competitive sport. James was keen on testing his skills, though it wasn t a regular habit. Most people he left alone, but this man, the epitome of Starfleet s cream of the crop , begged to be humbled. James despised favoritism. It gave people who didn t took their gifts for granted more status than they seemed to deserve, while it left others lacking in the additional training bestowed on the best.
~"Nonsense"~ He discredited his reasoning. Special training was to increase their natural gifts. They didn t necessarily showboat their talents. James tried to calm himself down, thinking he was making a big deal out of nothing.
Yet here was his perfect stereotype of the man who took everything for granted. His money, his career, and his life. How he wished some of it was taken away. No second chances, just gone forever. Then, like himself, he would be turned into one of them.
The circuit training portion of the room was a bedlam of noise, and flexing bodies. Almost no one could overhear or notice the two officers on adjoining pieces of equipment.
"I hear you re friends with Lieutenant Von Erst." James asked. He needed a neutral topic to suppress his disdain for Lysander. Disgusted or not, he knew his first impression was based not on the real person. He had to drill deeper, finding out what kind of a person Lysander really was.
Lysander shook the hair out of his face and looked at Corgan in surprise. Who the smeg was this guy and why did he care about The Princess....
Smeggin' Princess.
Of COURSE! This was the guy who'd been chasing the Princess for a while now. He'd probably heard the rumours about Lysander and Her Majesty and had some sort of grudge to settle...
"Who? Oh.. Princess Phaserbanks? Of course not. I just work for her, when she's can be bothered to come in from the rain and look around her Department and all. I don't think there's a soul in the Universe who she could count as a 'friend' since she got promoted." Lysander babbled, staring fixedly at the locking pin of the machine in front of him.
"I m surprised, Mr. Hawksley. I still consider Rebecca a friend, and she s pretty distant towards me. Oh well I still look out for her. I kind of like her in a big brother, little sister sort of way, you know what I mean? I watch out for her, make sure she doesn t get into too much trouble and sometimes bail her out of it. I d just wish she d chat more often."
"Well...I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. I've known Rebecca since the Academy...we were in the same class you know? And I don't think I've ever seen anyone 'looking' out for her. Not that she'd notice it, if you were buddy. She usually has her nose so far in the stars that unless you have the words 'Hyper-Relative Math' printed on your forehead, she won't even notice your existence."
"You know, I might just try that." Corgan snickered.
Lysander paused to wipe some sweat out of his eyes and look at Corgan, before moving to another machine, calling over his shoulder;
"Besides, I thought you and Reece were joined at the ..err.. hip? Now -there- is a woman..."
"Well... we're not really friends anymore, if that's what you are getting at." James said, "We're actually dating. She's my girlfriend.... oh sh*t...what are you implying?"
Lysander's exprression was carefully innocent. "Implying? Nothing. Just I heard you tossed Rebecca over for Reece, and I thought that'd be a better move for you is all. Didn't imply anything..."
"Whoa... pal. Call me paranoid, but do you really think that I have a thing for Rebecca?" James accused, "I can't believe this. How dare you!"
"Hey, it isn't me...I just hear stuff, you know? Some guy in Security..little guy with a pompadour? Pressley? He told me that he saw you two together, and talking outside the Tactical Offices the other day. And you seem real interested in her right now, pumping me for info and all..." Lysander continued working the machine through it's range of motion. Let this guy know that Lysander heard things himself.
"Please, the rumour mill in Security is more unreliable than an Orion hooker. Look, I'm not some sort of skirt chasing horndog! I don't go for any sentient woman I run across. I love Lexa, and nobody's going to dispute that. As for Rebecca, I'm just friends with her, understand? A guy can be friends with a woman without being romantically involved, you know, but you wouldn't know about that, would you?"
"Nope. I try, but then I always end up dating the 'friend' and all hell breaks loose afterwards. Lots of it going around the ship lately. Read any good books lately..oh...you're nor Chuckie...nevermind."
Lysander's tone was getting under Corgan's skin. He had the feeling that Lysander wasn't being truthful. The grapevine turned against his favor once again. Already, he felt that Lt. VanderPuls-Hawksley was prejudging him based on rumours.
~"Fine... he wants to play that game..."~ Corgan hatefully thought.
"Look... Lieutenant. You've heard a lot about me.. Haven't you? Don't answer... I already know what you're going to say." James told Lysander coldly and frankly, "And from what I heard about you... there's a lot that maybe pure bullsh*t. But, the one thing that I don't think is so fraggin' truth, is you and Rebecca. You've been covering her ass an awful lot lately, and to me it more than coincidence. Tell me the truth, Lysander."
Lysander wiped his head and tossed the towel onto the next station. Standing up, he leaned close to Corgan and growled right in his face.
"I don't know what sort of dysfunction you have, Mister but know this. I am not , have never been, and never WILL be interested in Rebecca Von Ernst in that context. She's a psychopath under the 'lil Miss-Understood' routine.
She'd turn you, me and everyone else into glowing dust and grind it under her Bunny Slippers without turning her head to say 'Noodles.' She's scarier than the Borg I've faced, she's scarier than Jem'Hadar troopers charging you, she's scarier than the aliens I hunted through a dying USS CITY OF SAINT LOUIS. She is, pure and simply, death on wheels, bub. You don't scare me, only she does. So smeg off."
Lysander turned his back on Corgan and returned to his workout. Let the guy reflect on that.
Smeggin' Princess...
"You are afraid of her, aren't you? And it's not about her being Starfleet's greatest borgslayer, isn't it?" He stopped to allow Lysander to take in what he was saying, "You're afraid she'll rip your heart out your ass."
~~Where does this guy get this smeg?~~ thought Lysander. It was amazing to him that people would assume just because he does his job, he mist be diddling his boss. Dante and the boys in Security had told Lysander how this guy had advanced to his current position, but to think that Lysander - loved- Rebecca Von Ernst? It's not like they knew about how she'd been in his dreams lately...why was she in his dreams? What the smeg?
Lysander tuned out Corgan's tirade as the implications of -why- Rebecca had been on his mind so much lately began to sink in.
"Ummm...wait...you said that -other people- said something about Rebecca and Me? What oth..." Lysander began, with a worried expression on his face.
"Hold it." James said, changing his cold, anger hiding tone very little, "I'll smeg' off when I'm finished. What surprises me is that you... have gone through all you've mentioned... and you're afraid of Rebecca? Look, you can pull the trigger and lauch multiphasic torpedoes at Borg Cubes. Doesthat make you the scariest man alive? F**k no! Rebecca's no different from us mortal men and women. In fact, I stared her down, and I told her once to take a swing at me with a roll full of latinum slips. Did she do it? F**k no. We instead reconciled our differences. So, if you think she's scary... and that she's going to rip your f**king head off, then you're in for a surprise. In fact, she'll probably give you the time of day. Did you ever consider that?"
He paused to take a deep breath, "And on the matter of scary sh*t going on in our lives, you think you're the only one that's been through hell and back? I've faced Jem'Hadar, on flaming starships, in trenches of mud, and even in bombed out cities! And if you really want to talk about the Borg, go right a-f**king-head. I bet you've seen your comrades get assimilated, right? How about you try to lay on the floor of a disabled starship with a Borg's claw arm grappled to your neck and it's assimilation tubules inches from your jugular. Now, try laying there for several hours, now knowing when the Borg's going to regenerate from its wounds and finish the job, or wait for its alcove bum buddies to charge into the scene. Or... if you reall want, go into a cube and run for dear life! That's what I did. And that's not all... if you think you still outdo me in the f**ked up sh*t department, try getting raped by a vampire and be left for dead."
Anger threatened to overflow his already cracking visage. At habit, he felt sick. He wanted to stop feeling this way. Anger lead to violence and bloodshed, or worse, hatred. Lysander was not worth it, he told himself. The blue blooded rich kid wasn't the enemy, Red Squad stuckup or not.
Slowly, his anger subsided.
"Don't ever try using your problems against me in an argument again. I have enough of my own." Corgan said, "And I'll take you up on those fencing lessons and I'll teach you both how to shoot... but you better get your feelings straight about Rebecca. I've heard the rumours... and I think there's some measure of truth in them. I want you to either love her, like her or hate her. Make a choice, make it soon, and make it stick, cause I don't want to have to split you two into private lessons."
Corgan stalked away, his stifflegged gait showing his agitation. Lysander could only stare in disbelief. The quite deranged James Corgan had stirred up memories better left unexamined.
Could it be true?
Could he be in...
l...LL..Llllll...
L...
Can't even say it in the confines of his own skull...
....Love?
With Rebecca Von Ernst?
Smeggin' Princess...
"A Painful Interview a Day, Keeps the Romulans Away." Joint post by
Ensign Arel Smith, Security Officer USS GALAXY and
Lt.j/g Lysander Van derPuls-Hawksley, Acting Assistant Tactical Chief Officer USS GALAXY
Unauthorized cameo by Ensign Alia Drakely, Security Officer
NPC help by
Samantha Widdlestein (Aged 8)
*************************************************************
The first sign that today would be a VERY bad day, was when Amy cancelled their usual luncheon date. Lysander usually spent most of Alpha Shift running around, doing whatever the Princess needed done in the Tactical Department. Since her promotion to Second Officer, a lot of the more mundane stuff was settling on Lysander and Lt.j/g Alexa Zarides, the next highest ranking officers in the Department. He always took time to find Lt. Green, however and sneak a meal with her during the minuscle 'meal break' in Alpha Shift allowed to the Teachers and children.
Rebecca's frankly pigheaded (in Lysander's opinion!) refusal to appoint either Tactical Officer to the position of "Assistant' vacated by Jessie meant that Alexa had her nose severely out of line. Lysander, with more 'time-in'rank' merely slapped an 'Acting' in front of the title and kept doing what he usually did, namely picking up the pieces behind his slobby, distracted, petite and red haired Chief.
Beta Shift, Lysander spent in blissfull silent 'busy-work' on the battlebridge. He knew that the slacker Peter Lockhart was torn, between sleeping in the Battlebridge or avoiding the PT sessions every morning now. Lysander had no such qualms. He liked running. It was having Sanchez frothing at the mouth to chew your ass off that he minded. Besides, every Gamma shift, he imagined Peter under the eye of every Senior Officer on the Main Bridge, and had to smile.
And, with Holodeck usage not only limited now, but actually forbidden...Lysander didn't think the runs would be taking place too much longer.
So it was with a merry and off-key whistle, that he interrupted his sonic shower and found Amy on the Comm, cancelling their lunch date. She had too much to do with the re-evaluation of the children scarred by the recent trauma aboard the ship during their last mission.
With a shrug, he turned back to his Com-list, still wrapped in his towel.
It was the usual nonsense...A few Departmental Memoes issued by Rebecca, about the tuning of the phasers (TO-DO TODAY LIST)...a plea from his Uncle Pieter's attorneys to DELETE)...a semi-hysterical message from Leo Streely demanding a personal reference (DELETE) another Message from Leo demanding(DELETE) a demand from Mister Thomas that they re-submit the Departmental Schedule as already submitted (Reference to Existing Schedule accepted by Captain Bhrode s- s-3-4-g COPY TO and DELETE) A limerick from Bosco starting "There once was a girl from Rigel Seven..." (FILE to 'Limericks" and DELETE) and finally...
~~smeg NO!~~ was all Lysander could contemplate, as he stared at the message in horror, his mind reeling and churning...
He was still sitting there in his towel, staring dumbly at his desktop computer screen, when his chime went off.
"Enter..." he croaked out, a sense of doom hanging over him like a ton of bricks.
His visitor marched in like she owned the place. With a practiced eye, she looked over the precisely arranged furnishings and the shocked form of Lysander. He didn't even acknowledge her existance, just stared at the screen in disbelief and horror. She'd better explain a few facts of life to Lysander before the day began. She was short, she was deadly, her mere existance on the ship was like poison to Lysander.
But no red hair on this one.
"My Mummy says that you must have rolled out of bed and seen her request that you 'sit' for me this Mid-Alpha shift by now. I can't go to class because Miss Auntie Lieutenant Green says we were mean to Uncle Crazy Corgan and we can't call him that anymore anyways but he is nuttso and..."
Samantha Widdlestein (aged 8) stopped to take breath.
"Mummy also says you don't have the sense of a gnat, but that you're the only Beta Shift person she knows and you're to watch me and not let me get in trouble and so therefore you have to watch me, even though she thinks it's more a question of someone watching you? I didn't understand that when she said it to Daddy. Even though Mummy always says what a 'spnsible nitwit you are. But you have to take me to my assignemnt for homework. Okay?"
Lysander turned doomladen, leaden eyes to the small chattering form.
"Your Mummy talks rubbish, Bug-Eyes. She's nuttier than Crazy Corgan. It says you're supposed to go to the Brig and 'interview' some Security person?"
Samantha nodded self-importantly. "Yes. It's for school."
"Lucky them. I wonder what Security did to annoy Amy ... nevermind. Well, let me get dressed and I suppose I have to take you, now that you're here. Don't TOUCH anything..." Lysander warned, before retreating to the other room to dress.
**************************************************************
"You've got to be kidding." Arel said darkly to Alia Drakely as they entered the Brig.
Alia flashed a grin of gold. "Nope. It's definately your turn."
Arel felt torn between gritting her teeth, running back out the door,and crying out 'Why, Gods, why?' She was not particulary fond of children to begin with and the thought of being interviewed by one was less than appealing.
"You're going to use up your daily quota of frowns, Targ." Alia laughed, before patting her on the back and escaping before the full effects of Arel's displeasure could be transfered to someone else.
Arel remained at her station and frowned some more. Why would a teacher make a student interview security personnel anyway? The answer was that the teacher was obviously a sadist. Arel mumbled some things about both sadist and teachers in general before the door opened and a man and a bouncing little girl that could only be Sammantha Widdlestein entered.
Arel thought that the man must have been Samantha's father but both his obvious unhappiness about being there and her memory changed her mind. She remembered him from the Academy.
He had been a few years ahead of her and had had an increadibly difficult name to remember.
But that was about all she remembered. He was, like most at the academy, just another face in the crowd.
She wondered, with some amusement, what he had done to be saddled with this girl.
Oddly enough, that was the same thought foremost in Lysander's mind at the same moment. He vaguely remembered "Targ" Smith as one of the underclass cadets he'd never gotten around to asking out, but that was the extent of it. He was pretty sure that she was someone who would be looking for him with a large and pointy object in her hand, after three minutes with Samantha, so he made a mental note to avoid Ensign Smith in the near future.
"Er..hi.." He began before Samantha took over and introduced herself, the man, as Lt. Lysander no last name, and then proceeded to start yacking to Arel about everything from her Mummy, her Mummy's best replicated meals, Lysander's lack of sense, crazed cousins, favorite songs, and what she wanted to get for her birthday, before asking Arel who she was and if she was in fact a real security officer because she really didn't look like one.
Arel starred at the girl in horror. Not only did she probably have a lung capacity the size of Galaxy but Arel had the feeling she was going to be in for a very long and painful interview...
Samantha started right out with the easy ones. Lysander puttered around the water cooler, chatting with 'the boys' in the form of Ensigns Pressley and accomplices. He ignored the helpless looks Arel shot him every now and then. Beyond a sympathetic rolling of the eyes,he firmly believed that Arel was on her own. Besides, the Security guys heard the best gossip. Too bad Ensign Dante and his shadow weren't here...
"You're a REAL Security Officer? Have you ever thrown anyone in the Brig by yourself?" Samantha started with, making herself comfortable in the big comfy chair in the Visitor's Lounge.
"No." Arel gave her best glare with the monosyllable reply.
"How about discover any crimes like in the Holo-soaps? Have you ever discovered a Ferrengi plot to kidnap the president of the Federation in some experimental battlecruiser and..." Samantha continued, having copied the word 'No" onto her PADD.
"No."
Samanthe eyed the uncommunicative Ensign for a moment. Her eyes were beady and glittering. If Arel had common sense, she'd better look out! Lysander and/or Arial had both seen that 'interested' look in the hallways outside Lysander's quarters. It usually meant trouble!
"Do you LIKE working in Security? My Mummy's friend is Auntie Lieutenant Commander Sanchez, and she -really- likes working in Security, she says so all the time. She says that if the rest of you snowflakes were half as tough as you thought you were, that lots more would get done and no one would say bad stuff about Security on the ship anymore, because they'd have no more teeth to say it around and..."
Arel began to reply, probably the type of reply that was not best for little eight year olds to hear, but was cut off as Samantha plunged ahead with another question.
Samantha knew the look on Arel's face. Her Mummy usually got it right about bedtime.
"When you were a little girl, did you ever think you'd be a Security Officer?"
"No." Arel replied shortly. "I wanted to be a warrior." Well, that and a ballerina but Samantha didn't really need to know that.
"I was raised mostly on Quo'nos, the Klingon homeworld."
"WOW! Really? On Klingon Homeworld? With real Klingons and everything? What was that like? Do they really run around saying 'Today is a good day to die?' because my Mummy says that's just the media generalizing again, though with Captain Price gone, I don't see how that phrase can..."
Arel quoted some sayings of the Klingons for Samantha in the Klingon language. In reality, the Klingons rarely went around saying "We eat little girls who ask too many questions" but Samantha would be none the wiser.
Samantha carefully jotted the phrases down and made a note to look them up on the computer as soon as she could. Maybe talking loudly and quickly in Klingon would let her stay up through the Beta Shift like the big kids?
"So do Klingons have any fairy tales, like we do? My favourite is 'Sleeping Beauty' although I also like 'Cinderella' and I -love- 'Winnie the Pooh' espicially Tigger! BOUNCEY BOUNCEY BOUNCEY!" and the child started leaping from chair to chair in the Visitors lounge, where they were seated. Lysander, of course, ignored the whole thing, leaving Arel to settle the child down.
In typical Arel fashion thoughts of vengenance and retribution on the body of Lysander commenced. She had no idea what the child meant by 'Fairy Tale,' maybe this was some sort of warrior boasting chant?
"Wow, my Mummy was right" Samantha said after a particularly high bounce "you Klingons have -no- sense of humour." Arel thought she was going to have to make a point of learning who the mother was, and knocking some manners into the child through the mother's skull. "Okay" the child continued "tell me the five things you like best about being on GALAXY?"
Arel began to feel a tight feeling, known through out the universe as severe panic with hyperventalative tendencies
"It's big." Arel began. "And there are...windows...and, um, there's the holodeck." Damn, was that only three? She saw Alia enter the Brig again but the other woman only waved and went to her station.
Traitor.
Lysander was doing everything humanly possible to ignore her as well. Maybe if she killed Alia first, she could slow up Lysander by kicking Pressly's fat rear end into his way, and then... " I like the replicators and...the...well, um, the...JOB." she managed to get out, her voice raising at the triumph of completing the task. She felt like sitting down and fanning herself off because of the effort.
The little beady eyes never left hers. The sneer on the kid's face was new, however.
"Interesting. Was that it? Tell me the five WORST things about being on GALAXY." Arel wanted to scream. "Don't worry, I'm not a REAL journalist, I won't tell on you to anyone!" the child said to her in a stage whisper.
She was sure that she could have come up with an infinate number of things that were bad about being on Galaxy, starting with this interview, but she didn't want to ruin the child's image of the ship. Arel also didn't trust the confidences of reporters, eight years old or unprofessional as they might be. She ended up spewing up some rather inane things that she imagined a typical Starfleet officer would say. She felt boring and in need of a shower for some reason. The child's sneer was deepening. Maybe if she slapped it off the little face? Arel's hands twitched on their own, and she curled them tightly in her lap.
Samanmthe looked disappointed. She was convinced she was going to fail this assignment. It was obviously all the fault of Lieutenant Lysander.
"Okay, look. Woman to woman, do you have a boyfriend? I only ask because you're really pretty and there's not a lot of eligible guys here, you know?" Samantha indicated the Security Ensigns clustered around Lysander and the water cooler.
Arel's head began to seriously ache.
"We women have to stick together, and if you have dibs on someone,I don't want to make a scene or anything." Samantha leaned closer and stage whispered "I'm going to marry Lieutenant Lysander, but you can have any of the others..."
Arel thanked the girl for her generosity and looked over to the child's intended husband. She couldn't imagine anyone marrying the man, especially after she was done pounding his face in for this,and pointedly told the child so.
"Oh Pooh! You sound just like my Mummy. She says that if I have that little sense, I'll end up with someone like Lieutenant Lysander and it'll serve me right! He's fun though! And handsome..." Samantha paused to give a big sigh."So. What does your normal day in Security start like?"
Arel dutifully told the girl about her work day. She made it as detailed and factual as she could. The child's eyes started glazing at about the time Arel was describing how to fill out a T-2736/k form "Report of Damage to Cosmetic Starship Property by Unknown(s)"
"Sounds icky! I think I still want to be a journalist. Then I can talk to interesting people. Thank you for your time Auntie Ensign Smith. I had fun! Maybe we can do it again soon."
I'd sooner pet a tribble, Arel thought.
The small child smiled and leaned close to whisper "I like you. You're pretty and you can show me how to smack someone around sometime. If you want, I can show you my holodeck program collection sometime."
Arel blinked, not something she did a lot. For a moment, a strange wistful thought came to her, that that might actually be fun. Mentally, she grabbed the thought and jumped up and down on it until it was a greasespot of a thought.
"Maybe." was all she replied.
The child was still staring at Arel. Why was she doing that?
Lysander detetached himself from Ensign Presley, who was endeavoring to display some hip shaking 'move' and stopped by Alia Drakely, at the Brig Station for a moment.
With a smirk that could only be described as 'Evil' he asked Alia, "So. How -you- doing?"
"Fine..." Alia ventured, with a quizzical look on her face.
"Good. How's Chuckie? I heard he visited your book collection the other day." Lysander continued, still smirking.
"It's 'Chuck" and we're -just- friends! Sheesh! " and Alia glared darkly at the 'water-cooler gang' all of whom developed sudden interests elsewhere, Ensign Pressley almost tripping over his blue suede boots in his haste to depart.
"Oh. Right. Okay. See you around then." intoned Lysander totally deadpan, as he dragged Samantha out the hatchway and into the corridor.
Samantha looked back at Arel and asked her last question.
"Arel, has anyone ever told you that you'd make a really pretty Ballerina? You're so tall and pretty and..."
Lysander barely stopped to mumble 'Thanks' to Arel so he missed the glare she threw at him. He did feel the burning sensation between his shoulderblades all the way out to the corridor, however.
"JUST FRIENDS." yelled Alia to his back.
"You and Copperpot?" Arel asked in disbelief.
"Oh, shut up, or I'll buy you a tu-tu!" an exasperated Alia ventured, before checking the shipwide security protocols for the hundreth time that day.
Arel looked back at the hatchway in confusion. She hoped Alia was joking... or that she'd get a white one if she wasn't.
Title Changing Shifts
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant Electra Reece, Chief OPS Officer AND
Ensign Cutter Kara'nin, OPS
(Before we entered the nebula)
Location: Bridge
Lexa walked onto the bridge for the beginning of her shift. She was tired and irritable after a bad night's sleep. She wished Karyn was around to talk to but she wasn't. So the regal officer simply rolled her shoulders and moved out of the turbolift. The captain wasn't on the bridge yet, she noted, though he might be in the Ready Room. Sighing, she walked down the ramp to her duty station and tapped Ensign Kara'nin on the shoulder. "I'm here to relieve you, ensign. How was the Gamma shift? Anything happen that I should know about?"
Cutter looked up from the OPS console to his superior. The two never really talked, except for those brief moments between shifts. "Not anything big," he said as he pushed the console away from him and rose from the chair, allowing Lieutennant Reece to sit. "A few science officers stayed awake last night to take those first scans of the nebula. You can read some of their preliminary reports here," he said, bringing up a small window on the far side of the terminal.
"They found Delta radiation. So, I assume Engineering is going to spend most of this morning finishing shield modifications. They did some preliminary tests on the shields last night, but not anything big, so I don't know what types of power drains you get to deal with when we enter the Nebula. I guess being chief of a department always garuntees you get a hand in the fun parts of the job, eh?"
Lexa smiled wryly. "Fun jobs. Yeah. I get the fun jobs all right. These modifications are a pain in the neck. But they are necessary. Definitely necessary. I don't want to die because Starfleet wants a scan of this place. But we're going to have to keep a VERY close eye on the power allocation. Not to mention the sensor grid clearances. Sciences are going to be all over the place and fighting for a spot at the enhanced sensors."
A sigh rumbled deep in the brunette's chest. "Is the captain on duty yet?"
Cutter dropped his voice to a low whisper. "The captain is in his ready room. I don't think he's in a very good mood. He walked on the bridge when I had my wings unfolded, to get some blood flowing, and he grumbled something, I think at me, and then went to his ready room. Plus, he always has that stern look on his face. You work with him, I've never actually met him, is he as bad as everyone says he is?"
"I don't know what everyone is saying and I haven't worked with him for too long. But he is ... definite in what he wants and how he wants it done. I don't recommend crossing him. The crew, and I have to confess to feeling this way myself, are apprehensive because his style differs from Captain Price's so much. But he's got an excellent record. We just have to adjust. That's what life in Starfleet is all about. You're lucky in that you are coming directly to a new assignment. You don't have to unlearn things about how things were done on this ship before. Just keep an eye out and don't take the grumbling to heart. I'm sure he isn't as bad as he is being painted." Lexa nodded as she turned her attetnion to her console, hoping her encouraging talk wasn't just blowing smoke. She wasn't sure about Brhode but as a deaprtment head she had to keep morale up and couldn't be too open about her misgivings.
Cutter shrugged a bit. "Well, all right, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Have fun here," he said before turning and heading torwards the turbolift. Breakfast sounded good about now, then some sleep.
"A nosy Barolian"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price
*** Barolian freighter M'Ran, heading for Romulan space ***
Captain Price scratched the bridge of his Romulan nose where the ridge met his extended eye ridges. Even with the medications Doctor Pulaski had prescribed, Lee still had an urge to scratch the newly formed skin. He rubbed gently, since he didn't want to scratch so hard as to make himself bleed. Though the itch certainly would have warranted that.
"aefaeet...no that's not it. Aefvaas.. Ah, son of a bitch." the cosmetically-altered Bajoran muttered. The Romulan greeting of "aefaeyd" was giving him all sorts or trouble.
Captain Price glanced over to Elaithin, seeing his frustration with relearning the Romulan language. Like himself, Elaithin hadn't had much use for the Romulan language since his Starfleet Academy days when taking at least one alien language was a requirement to pass the curriculum. Even then, the cadets were only taught the basics. Great for touring an alien world or asking where the bathroom was, but a far cry from trying to infiltrate a world as a sort of covert spy. Of the four Starfleet officers turn Romulan spys, only Commander Dallas had any sort of true mastery of the Romulan language. Somehow Karyn's advanced skill and mastery with speaking Romulan comforted Captain Price. Lee knew his own ability with Romulan was limited. He was pretty good at reading the language, or understanding spoken Romulan, as long as the words were not spoken too fast, or said in a heavily accented fashion. But his ability to speak Romulan was extremely limited. He understood the language, and, given time, could put together a coherent sentence or question, but several of the Romulan words were very foreign to his lips. Inevitably he would have difficulty pronouncing some of the more difficult ones with any degree of success, much like Elaithin was frustrating over now with the greeting, aefaeyd.
Major Galathon was standing near the door, watching out at the corridor to the Barolian freighter while the others practiced their Romulan. Kent didn't seem as bothered by the itching of the recent surgery as Captain Price did. The Commander seemed pre occupied as he stared out the door as if something was on his mind. Finally, he turned, "Someone is coming..." Peterson warned in whispered English. It was the cue for the away team to get into their Romulan characters.
"What do you want?" Major Galathon challenged at the door.
It was the engineer, Doorn. He was carrying two bottles of some sort of liquor in his hands. In what sounded like translated Romulan, he greeted with a smile. "I thought I'd be neighborly and see if you'd like to share some Romulan ale I've been saving. It's quality stuff. I traded with a Ferengi weapons dealer for a case of it a few years back. None of the others seem to appreciate real Romulan ale. You being Romulan, I figure, would enjoy sharing some with me."
Major Galathon glanced away from the door and over to Commander Palteth. Lee's eyes widened, not knowing what to make of this. His first inclination would be to say no, and leave the team alone to practice their Romulan. But while he could visualize the Romulan words needed to convey that message, he knew he'd fumble if he tried to say them. And speaking in English would be a dead give away right now. So he shrugged his shoulders.
Taking the initiative, Colonel Jarol stepped over to the entrance on her power legs with a slight limp. Karyn was getting into her role as the lead Tal'Shair heavy in the group. Major Galathon gladly stepped aside as Karyn paused and glanced at the Romulan expectantly. She then looked at the engineer.
"Romulan ale you say? Let me see."
Doorn smiled showing what remained of the Barolian's rotting teeth. "I was told this is a fine year. While I'm no expert, the other bottles I've had all were very good."
Colonel Jarol took the bottle and regarded the label for a moment. Uncorking it, she sniffed the Romulan beverage as if evaluating it. Her attention then returned to the Barolian. "2301. A good year. How do I know you haven't tampered with this? Placed sedatives or poison in it perhaps?" Karyn questioned.
The engineer seemed quite surprised at the Romulan's insinuation. "Why would I want to do that? I just thought you'd enjoy this. Here..." Doorn said, taking the bottle away from the Tal'Shair leader and taking a drink himself. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he smiled those same rotting teeth once again. "You see? Perfectly safe and quite refreshing."
Karyn's eyes narrowed as she took the bottle from the Barolian once again. Listening to the universal translated Romulan the Barolian was speaking and then to the native Romulan Counselor Dallas was using in her persona as Colonel Jarol made it obvious why the team needed to speak the native language and couldn't rely on the mechanical translation of the UT. Again she sniffed the bottle contents.
Surprisingly, Sub-Commander Mirok stepped forward and in pretty good Romulan managed to ask, "How do we know he didn't use a poison to which his kind is immune?" The sentence, and the question made perfect sense and sounded exactly the sort of thing a suspicious Romulan would ask. Jii had wanted to say "Barolian", but wasn't sure of the Romulan pronunciation. So he'd settled on the generic "your kind" instead. It didn't matter; the Chief of Security relayed his message perfectly in tone and suspicion.
Colonel Jarol looked at the Barolian, somewhat pleased that Elaithin had done so well in speaking Romulan and posing the question in the right tone and with the correct inflexion. "My colleague has a valid point." She stated, but then relented, "However I don't believe you would have reason to drug members of the Star Empire, and certainly not anyone from the Tal'Shair." With that Karyn took a taste of the sweet Romulan beverage. It took effort for her not to wince at the high alcohol content, but she managed to take a sample and then look back at the engineer. "Quite good indeed. Come, you may visit for a while."
The Barolian engineer smiled and came walking into the quarters with his two bottles of ale. "That's more like it." He said when he entered and took a seat near Commander Palteth on the sofa. Turning the Barolian engineer handed a bottle to Commander Palteth.
Major Galathon stepped over carrying several glasses. Something about Doorn's rotten teeth made Elaithin not want to share the bottle of Romulan ale, so separate glassware seemed like a good idea. In pretty good Romulan Galathon stated, "Glass?" as he offered the square shaped beverage receptacles to each member of the team and their Barolian guest.
Doorn poured liberal glasses for each of the Romulan members. "It's rare that we have guests on board the freighter. Captain Daman usually doesn't allow it." The Barolian engineer finished pouring each person a glass of Romulan ale and topped off his own glass before placing the bottle down. "You must either be very important or very wealthy people."
Captain Price wasn't sure if this was the best of ideas. On the one hand, it was a great opportunity for the team to practice their Romulan personas before a real audience. But on the other hand, one slip up could spell disaster for their mission. Looking at the Romulan ale he held in his hand, Commander Palteth gladly took a large drink of the sticky sweet beverage. Lee figured it would help to steady his nerves as they played Romulan for the curious Barolian engineer.
"A little worm on a big hook..."
With Captain John Brhode and the rest of the bridge crew of the USS GALAXY
Including exerpts from "A cry in the Dark" by 'Pick, and "First Showdown"(unreleased - yet referenced) by Chris Thomas
Time: Just after recieving a distress beacon (audio only) of unknown orgin.
Location: Bridge, USS GALAXY
All eyes on the bridge swiveled in near unison to focus thier attention on the Captain. As expected, Brhode exploded into action with a Picard-like tug of his tunic.
"Sound General Quarters. Commander Quevverson" he ordered the Science officer, "Cease all Studies of the Nebula. Lieutenant Reese, divert Scientific resources back to propulsion and weapons. Lieutenant von Ernst, fix your little problem with my phasers ASAP and get this ship on a combat footing. We don't know what's out there." "Aye Sir!" the called out briskly as they lept into action.
Brhode was too in the moment to be pleased. "Get Medical and Engineering and let them know that we may be needing thier assistance." Turning to Lt. Palikia (who took us into the nebula. Lt. Cmdr. Gustavson is in a shuttle isnt he?) he then said: "I don't believe in pussy-footing around in an Emergency. Helm lay in an intercept course for signal source Warp 9. Take us into harm's way Mister."
Commander Thomas was quick to speak the question that was formost on everyone's minds. "Captain, what about the shuttles? Should we wait to recall them?"
"We're on a tight schedule here, Number One. Our first priority is to get the nebula mapped out. Besides that, every second that we sit here and debate the matter could cost lives. This is not a democracy, this is a starship. Mr. Palikia, I believe I gave you an order. Warp nine. Now."
Not a few eyebrows shot up at that. Zipping around at such breakneck speeds were not common, and was in itself rather risky.
Still...
The crew leapt to obey, and like a shot, the Galaxy was off sceaming into the darkness in search of the cry for help.
Thomas sighed heavily in his chair. Brhode heard it and without even moving his eyes from the viewscreen announced in a low voice: "Relax Commander. They are trained professionals on a functional shuttlecraft equipped with shields, replicators and such. I'm confident they can manage to survive being left on thier own for a few hours."
*** Nearly 2 hours later ***
Much to the chagrin of the entire bridge crew, Captain Brhode remained firmly seated in the captain's chair the entire trip to the orgin of the distress signal. Like a hawk he scanned the viewscreen before him as if he could somehow detect the injured ship through the multicolored hypnotic swirls of the nebula.
The only times he had broken off his gaze were to listen to two more distress calls from the unknown ship, messages that had grown both more broken up and frantic. And to acknowlage Ryana O'Grady's report that she had the ship's sabateure - Lt, Kira Murphy - in custody. She also mentioned that she had done so a full seven minutes before her given deadline bringing a slight smirk of satisfaction to Commander Thomas.
"We're within viewing distance, Captain." Rebecca called out.
"By all means, Lieutennent. On screen. Maximum magnification. And stay alert. If this is some sort of ambush, I want to be able to punch our way out before they have a chance to close the cage door." Brhode said in a voice that suddenly seemed laced with the stone cold tone of a combat veteren.
"Y..Yes , sir." Von Ernst replied, a bit uneasy at the notion that the saftey of the ship and the entire crew onboard rested squarly on her tiny shoulders and ability to press the 'fire' button on the ship's phasers.
The bridge grew eerily silent as an image filled the viewscreen.
It was an image that creates an icy feeling in the pit of all starfarers stomachs.
It was an image of the scorched wreckage and twisted debris that had once been a starship.
The grey haired Captain's jaw muscles tensed themselves repeatedly. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he gazed upon what had once been home to possibly hundreds of lifeforms. Life forms that he had told help was on the way.
Now all that remained was unrecognizable scrap metal and rubble.
"I want a scan of the immediate area. Make sure we're alone out here. And someone tell me what that was and more importantly how the hell this happened." Brhode ordered hoarsely.
Almost simultanious with the order, the ships powerful sensor arrays were brought to bear upon the section of space they now occupied.
After a few moments study, Rebecca announced: "No evidence of any other ships. It looks like we're all alone out here."
Commander Thomas nodded. "Cloaked vessels? Romulans perhaps?"
"Doubtful. This isn't thier style. Plus we have presented too tempting of a target. If there is anyone else here, we would have known it by now. The advantage of suprise is no advantage if it isn't even used." the Captain replied.
Commander Quewerson spoke from the science station.
"According to the database, probible ID on the ship is an Anteres class freighter. Hull fragments show definite evidence of a firefight. Taking into account the pattern of the debris and the degree of fragmentation, I would say that her engines exploded. No doubt a secondary result of being fired upon, sir."
Brhode nodded an acknowlagement. He was irked that the ship had arrived too late to render promised asistance, yet he had no inclination of sharing the freighter's fate.
"A stationary ship in hostile space is a target. Mr. Palikia, I feel like a little worm on a big damn hook. Lets put some distance between us and the remains of the frieghter. There's nothing more we can do for them. Lets get back to the shuttles. The hairs on the back of my neck are on end, and in my experiance, thats never been a good thing."
"Aye sir." the helmsman replied as the ship sprung into motion.
"Commander Thomas, you have the bridge. I'll be in my ready room." Brhode stated.
*** The Captain's Ready Room, minutes later. ***
Instead of remaining on the bridge, Commander thomas followed Brhode into his ready room. "Captain Brhode, may I have a word with you sir?" Chris said.
"What about, we're a little busy here commander!" Brhode replied making no effort at all to mask his irritation as he sat heavily in the chair behind his desk and once again tugged at his tunic.
Commander Thomas didn't want to do this way, but he felt there was no other alternative. Since coming aboard, John Brhode had ruffled the feathers of nearly everyone onboard. Chris felt that someone should speak up to the man and as First Officer, the duty fell to him.
"Captain, I don't think I am the first officer for you, I don't believe I can continue serve as your executive officer and maintain my objective."
If the older man was the least bit shocked or suprised, he was too experianced to let it show.
"I appreciate your candor, Commander. Now leave my bridge, report to your quarters and stay out from under foot. If you didn't notice there is a crisis about us. There is no room for obstructionist quitters who run at the first sign of a challange. You are dismissed." he said sharply.
Chris blinked in suprise. This wasn't what he expected from the man.
His gambit had failed.
"Send in Von Ernst on your way out."
"Swirl of changes"
LCDR Mike O'Grady MSW
Chief counselor
=Bridge USS Galaxy=
Commander Thomas had resigned? He couldn't work with Captain Bhrodie, and now Rebecca Von Ernst was the Executive officer of the vessel.
Poor woman must be scared out of her wits. He'd have to check on her later, maybe talk to her once things have calmed down.
Silently he glanced over at the captain and wondered what the man was thinking, if he was to advise the captain he would need to understand him, especially since he was the new commanding officer of this vessel.
One other irrelevant thought creeped in to his mind, damn this chair was comfortable....
Knowing the rescue mission was coming up and there might be casualties he consulted the counseling dept roster and channeled junior counselors with some medical training to sickbay to assist with any casualties, also that provided a trained ear also for people who may have stress issues and lets the dept monitor anyone who was at risk for post traumatic stress before they got back to starbase for a more formal debriefing.
It was standard procedure that Karyn had put in the books, so he followed through. It made sense to check things out like that.
"What is done is done"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price
Starring:
Commander Christopher Thomas, former Executive Officer - USS Galaxy
Anna Marie Taylor-Thomas, Commander Thomas' wife.
Chris was sitting at the desk in the corner of his quarters, holding his head in his hands in silent disbelief. The Commander had hoped to voice his and the crew's concerns to Captain Brhode, but he never expected to be summarily dismissed and relieved of duty as Executive Officer of the USS Galaxy.
The silence was broken when Chris wife, Anna, came entering their quarters. Chris turned slightly, and could tell by the look on her face that she'd already heard what happened from the ship's ever-efficient rumor mill.
"Honey, I just heard what happened." Anna stated while entering the room and walking over where her distraught husband sat. "Is there anything I can do?"
Chris shook his head while pivoting in his chair and giving his wife a hug. Laying his head on her breasts, he quietly said, "No. There's nothing that you can do."
"I don't know who this Brhode is that he thinks he can do something like this and get away with it." Anna fumed. "You are a good Executive Officer. He has no business relieving you of your assignment on this ship."
Chris pulled away and stood up. Holding Anna he looked down into her face. "Yes he does. Brhode is the Captain of this vessel now sweetheart. And unfortunately that means there is no place for me here any longer."
Anna listened to what her husband was saying. She'd heard that tone in Chris' voice before. It was the tone he always used after he'd already made up his mind about something. Wiping away a tear from her reddened eyes, she asked, "What are you going to do? Leave Starfleet? Look for another posting?"
Chris hours on board the Galaxy had been long as First Officer under Captain Price' command. Deep down she was hoping he'd give up Starfleet and take a normal job where he wasn't expected to work 18 hours each day like on a Starship. But she knew how much Chris loved Starfleet and being out in space. Still she was hopeful.
"There are many ships in the fleet. I'm sure I can find a position on board one of them, assuming Captain Brhode doesn't screw me with Starfleet Command over this." Chris stated.
"Screw you over?" Anna questioned, "How could he do that?"
"By trashing me with Starfleet Command in his report. He could fix it so I never get promoted again. Maybe even see to it that I'm assigned to some god forsaken outpost station in the middle of nowhere for all I know."
"He can't do that!" Anna protested.
"It could happen. Brhode didn't get where he is today without having some connections with Starfleet Command. Fortunately I know a few people there too. So hopefully it won't be so bad and I'm worrying for nothing." Chris commented.
"Well if you do get posted to some God awful place, I hope you would simply refuse and resign from Starfleet." There, she'd said it.
Chris smiled at his beautiful wife. He knew how much she missed spending quality time with him, mostly because of the demands of his job as First Officer on board the Galaxy. "Don't worry Anna. No matter what happens, I'll see to it that we are together and happy."
The words seemed to soothe Anna's mind as she melted into her husband's arms and they held each other lovingly.
***
It had only been a few hours since Thomas had been relieved of duty on board the Galaxy. The ship had returned to the Mako-Nebula to resume its mission. Though he wasn't present, Chris had heard that the distress signal they had received had turned out to be an Antares-class freighter that had been attacked by forces unknown. The Galaxy had arrived too late to render any assistance, and thus, Captain Brhode ordered the ship back to the nebula to continue the survey mission.
Brhode had wasted no time in contacting Starfleet Command and informing the Admiralty of the recent developments regarding the removal of Thomas from the Galaxy's senior staff. Even as Chris and Anna finished packing up their things, a shuttle was standing by to transfer them off the ship and to the nearest Starbase, Starbase 415.
"That looks like the last of it." Anna stated with a satisfied nod. "Everything packed and ready to go."
Chris gave a solemn nod. "I'll have these cases transported directly to the cargo hold of our shuttle. We should get to shuttle bay two. Ensign Yin is probably waiting for us."
"You seem to be taking this all rather well." Anna commented while looking at her husband. It was true, since Chris had been relieved of duty by Captain Brhode, he had remained calm the entire time while they packed and prepared to leave the Galaxy for
the very last time.
"What is done is done." Chris stated simply. "This way, we get a short vacation before I receive my new orders and assignment from Starfleet Command. All that's left to do is cross my fingers that I get a descent assignment and see what happens when it comes through."
Anna came over and put an arm around her husband's waist. "I love you."
Chris leaned down and gave Anna a kiss. "I love you too." After a brief pause while they each gazed into the others eyes, Commander Christopher Thomas, former First Officer of the USS Galaxy, said, "Let's go, our shuttle to the future awaits."
"That sounds good to me dear." Anna smiled and the couple exited their quarters for the last time.
"The one when Jordan meets Leo"
by Kit Jordan, reporter
Jordan knew it would be a bad day when she woke up at the sounding of general quarters and she realized she had no idea what it was or what she should be doing. She decided, because of her complete lack of a clue, to stay in her quarters, in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, until she realized, after about forty-five minutes, they would remain in general quarters for quite a while. The prospect of that annoyed her. Annoyed her greatly as a matter of fact.
She got up and hit her head on a pile of books. She cursed, hoping on one foot while shaking the other before she caught her foot under the decorative plus carpet and fell, crashing onto the deck, and while it was, thankfully, a cushioned fall, it put her in an even more sour mood. She stumbled into the bathroom, brushing her hand over a rug-burned knee and examining the broken toenail. She went about her daily toiletries and preparations, discovering why she'd been at the edge of a migraine the past day, and that just topped the cake. She had the incredible urge to go back to bed and not come out for another week. But alas, she couldn't do that; sour mood or not, she had to work the grapevine, listen to the rumor mill, and get herself a drink. A real drink. She'd not been up for an hour and already she couldn't think of anything else, it was going to be that bad of a day.
She managed into a pair of jeans, which fit much tighter than normal due to the Unwelcome, slipped on a low dipping, dark purple top, and pulled her hair into a topknot with a black elastic band; it was bothering her and she just wanted it out of her face. She pulled on her knee high boots under the flaired cuff of her jeans and sighed as she glanced in the mirror, deciding to touch up a few small blemishes on her face before she journeyed into the world. Naturally clear skin that was a far off dream.
Deep sigh.
She breathed in deeply the recycled air of the corridors to the ship as she journeyed down the hallways and then into ten forward. She plopped down into a stood and, crossing her arms over the bar, she let her head fall into them with a gentle, subtle, by slightly jarring ku-plut, startling a few glasses settled on the bar. A person or two glanced at her.
"That don't look so good," said the short little greasy ball of a man who manned the bar, she thought his name was Leo. She looked up at him.
"Get me the strongest real liquah you have," she said, lifting her head enough to look at him.
"Sure ya old enough?" Leo asked.
Jordan lifted her head, grabbed the man by the shirt, and pulled him forward as she sat up straight, glaring at him. "Look, I had a sleepless night, a grizzly wake up call, and bad mahning, and I have cramps no man would evah, evah, evah be able to comprehend, do you get me pal-ee?"
His eyes widened. He looked slightly terrified as she released him and he dropped from his tiptoes.
"Touchy broad, ain't ya?" he muttered, straightening his clothing as he moved away.
He was a bastard of a little man. Her intuition told her that. But he had the alcohol, and maybe if she was lucky, he'd have a little touch of information for her.
"Into the Lion's Den."
Joe's 100th post! (Actually 101st, but the Brhode one needed to go out first!)
With Lt. Raven Darkstar (Temporary ACSO), Lt. Amy Green (NPC Teacher- I think that's her name.) and the children of the Galaxy's primary class and an UNAUTHORIZED apperance from Ryana O'Grady..
*Author's note: The kids interaction with Raven will be a bit different from what others have posted. Keep in mind Raven has saved a kid or two in his time onboard.
Time: While the USS GALAXY is in eroute back to their original position in the Nebula.
Location: Main Security Office, USS GALAXY
Raven let out a deep throaty grumble.
Since coming aboard the Galaxy, he had willingly thrown himself headlong into danger without so much as a second thought.
He had lead an away team onto Ursid - a planet doomed to destruction from a giant asteroid hurling through space. While on the planet, he battled tribes of cannibles as fire fell from the sky itself to save the life of his two teammates. (That would be Ensign Kathleen Sierra and Ensign Jim Kelly for those of you keeping score.)
He had battled hordes of angry zealots under the control of a fanatical leader wielding a hypnotic, mythical stone. (This one also featured those nasty Cardassians! At no extra charge!)
He had traipsed through the bowels of the ship with Leo Streely, searching for nonexistent Changelings while keeping the then journalist from discovering why exactly a Cardassian was onboard the GALAXY. (Perhaps my finest moments as Leo! Shameless plug there.)
When the Borg invaded the ship, he had joined together with a rag tag band of Starfleet misfits -and Leo Streely disguised as a Vulcan - to hold the line of defense in the ships residential wing.
He threw himself down a turbolift shaft to do battle with one of the homicidal rapists on board the ship during the "Stalker Wars" (Resulting in, among other things, the death of the afore mentioned Ens. Jim Kelly and the departure in grief of Ens. Kathleen Sierra.)
He had more recently gone toe to toe (with a little help from Leo Streely, naturally.) against a pair of seemingly unstoppable evil alien vampires who had targeted the GALAXY's children. (the fiends!)
There was no danger that the Indian wouldn't brave.
No evil that he wouldn't face down.
No circumstance that he wasn't equipped to handle...none that is, but this one.
"With all due respect, Commander, I don't see how I am the ideal choice for this. Perhaps Copperpot or Lt. Zonhieb."
Ryana O'Grady suppressed a smile as best she could.
"Mr. Copperpot would no doubt read them the Illiad or some such thing, and quite frankly, Seth would probibly terrify them - which goes against the purpose of the program to begin with."
Raven sighed.
"They are just children, Mr. Darkstar. They are harmless. Besides that, they requested you personally to be the Security Department representative. After the incident with the Sanguinarians they see you and Leo as some sort of superheros. God, don't tell Leo that."
Again Raven sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his broad chest. (Which isn't as broad as Lt. Palikia's)
"You'll love it." the new Chief of Security said with a smile.
"I'm sure I will." the Indian responded dryly.
Ryana came out from behind her desk and clapped a hand on the big man's shoulder. "That's the spirit. I knew I made the right choice making you ACS. Now you better get moving, the kids are waiting. And don't forget, your Beta shift supervisor now."
*** Primary Class, School Room ***
Lt. Amy Green, the primary class teacher - or zookeeper as some on the ship affectionately dubbed her - walked back into the classroom where the kids were noisily playing.
She clapped her hands to get their attention. "KIDS! KIDS! Today we have another guest to talk to you."
They seemed to pay her no attention until...
"He's from Security."
That silenced the entire room as tiny heads turned in unison. The idea behind the Primary Class program was to have department reps meet with the kids in an effort to ease their fears about starship life, especially in wake of the recent horrors they had experienced with the Borg and Sanguinarians.
No department dealt more closely with their safety in their eyes than the "policemen" of the Galaxy's Security department, and they had been eager to have the department come and see them. More specifically they wanted to see one person.
"Is it Mr. Star?" Taylor, a five year old human asked in a soft voice.
"Yes, it's Mr. Darkstar." Amy replied as a cheer erupted from the kids.
She ushered them to their seats then motioned with her hands.
The moment Raven entered the gaily colored room, the children and mobbed the surprised Indian, holding his hands and hugging his legs. He looked at Amy, who just shrugged. "What do I do now?" he mouthed.
"Just talk to them." she whispered.
He nodded then spoke.
"Come children. Let us be seated." Immediately the tiny mob dragged him to the spot where their teacher routinely read to them. Raven moved the chair away, opting to sit on the carpet with his legs folded. (Yeah, he's sittin like an Indian! So what!) The kids all sat in the same fashion as they huddled around him.
'"Those of you who don't know me already, I am Lt. Darkstar..." he started as the kids giggled and exchanged excited glances. "I'm from Security."
"You take the bad guys and make them go away." a little Bajoran boy announced.
"That's right."
"Did you make the Vampires go away too?" Taylor asked nervously, standing up and moving next to him while fidgeting her tiny hands.
"Yes, we did. They're all gone now." Raven assured her as the little girl sat down on his folded knee.
"Were you frightened? Fear would be a logical response." a little Vulcan boy stated.
"No, I wasn't" Raven replied, keeping in mind that Security should seem fearless to the children.
"He's not afraid of nothin! Not spiders, or snakes, or Boogymen! My Mummy said so!" Samantha (age 8) chimed in.
"Is that true?" the Bajoran boy asked.
"That is correct. Spiders and snakes are more afraid of you than you are of them. And I laugh at Boogymen." he said with a crooked yet reassuring smile.
"How come you got long hair and nobody else does?" Taylor asked feeling Raven's long black hair.
"I am an Indian. My people traditionally wear their hair long."
"What's an Indian?" a little boy asked.
"Indians are a group of people from the planet Earth, where I was born. We're no different from Bajorans, Bolians and Ferengi.
"Ferengi smell bad. You don't smell bad at all." Taylor said getting the rest of her class to giggle.
"Could I be a Security man someday too?" the Bajoran boy asked.
"If you went to school and studied hard, you certainly could." Raven said to the boy who had taken a position next to him.
"Good! I wanna help people just like you do."
"My Mummy says you probably gots a big muscle. Can you make a muscle?" Samantha (age 8) asked.
"I don't see why not." Raven said blushing a bit and rolling up his sleeve and flexing an impressive, scar covered bicep. (although not nearly as impressive as Lt. Palikia's guns are!)
The kids ooh'd and aah'd.
"How did you get those white lines on your arms? Did the bad robots do that to you?"
"No, that happened long before I became a security officer." he said pulling his sleeve back down.
"Are the bad robots coming back to get us?" Taylor asked, her eyes wide and beginning to water.
Raven patted her on the head." If they do, you can be sure that my friends and I will roll them into little balls and bounce them off the ship." the children laughed, feeling good to be reassured by someone who would and had kept them safe.
"Is the giant green reptile your friend too? Does he really consume humans for nourishment?" the Vulcan boy asked.
Raven chuckled. "Lt. Zonhieb is my friend too and he only eats the bad guys."
"Your bigger than my dad. I bet you could beat up my dad."
"Of coarse he could. It is illogical to believe that there is anyone who Lt. Darkstar couldn't best in hand to hand combat." the Vulcan said.
Raven blushed slightly again.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Taylor asked. Amy Green covered her eyes as Raven awkwardly answered the little girl.
"No I don't"
"I could be your girlfriend." Taylor announced nuzzeling her head into the man's chest. "Me too!" said another girl who cam over and sat on his other leg.
"My Mummy doesn't want to be your girlfriend, she just wants to ride with you all night on your pony. Do you really have a pony?"
Amy laughed nearly choking to death.
"That's ...ah...very flattering. I may be a bit too old for you. But I'm not too old to be your friend. And as for your Mummy, I don't know what she means."
"Can you tell us a story?" Taylor asked. This electrified the group.
"Yeah! Tell us one where you save people!"
"And Uncle Leo too!"
Raven nodded and smiled a rare genuine smile. He motioned for them to gather closer and for the next 40 minutes, he held them all captive with his words as his forefathers had done around campfires before him.
*** Later ***
"Thank you for coming, Lieutenant. It meant a lot to the children." Amy Green said.
"I was just following orders, ma'am." Raven replied stiffly.
"Oh come on! You enjoyed yourself. You were right in your element when you were telling them that story and I even saw you smile. I don't think anyone on this ship has ever seen you do that."
Raven brought himself up to his full impressive height, puffed out his chest and towered over the teacher. "If anyone finds out about that, I will personally have you placed in the brig."her grumbled in a deep voice.
Then he winked at her.
"Better the devil you know."
by
Ens. Maggie Osborn.
Lt.jg. Alia Drakely.
Okay, so she was a bit jealous. Just a tad. But Osborn wasn't really concerned with it. She had guessed that Eric was taken from the time he first opened his mouth. She wasn't really thinking or looking where she was headed. All she knew was that she should really get a hobby or else--
She never got to finish that. Instead, she found herself on the floor looking at another Security officer just as puzzled and confused. "I'm sorry," she blurted out and got up. She watched the rank insignia carefully. Lieutenant junior grade. Hell, it was over ensign. She looked up at the face and the eyes staring back. It was _her_. Alia Drakely.
"Not at all. I should have been looking where I was going." Alia smiled slightly as she rubbed her elbow, "Are you okay...Ensign Osborn, right?" Her eyes competently flicked over her, observing and analysing what she could from Osborn's appearance.
"I am fine, ma'am," Maggie replied rather stiffly and got up from the deck. She rubbed her back and studied Alia carefully. Hell, she could understand why Eric would go for Drakely. Drakely made Osborn look like a little brown mouse next to her. "Are you okay?" she asked, forcing herself to smile.
"Just a bump." Alia chuckled. "And please, call me Alia." She hadn't been called ma'am for years - it sounded weird.
Maggie forced herself to keep the small smile. "You are a superior officer..." she pointed out, slightly amused. "Lieutenant Drakely," she added, keeping the formality but skipping the ma'am.
Alia shook her head with a laugh, she liked this woman. "If we all went around using full formalities on this ship, then we'd all be falling over each other." Alia quirked an eyebrow at Osborn. "You looked almost as preoccupied as I was. How about a drink?"
Osborn smiled, this time for real. "If we were using full formalities, we wouldn't have to be given wake up calls from the captain," she pointed out and rubbed her hip. She could feel a bruise coming. "And a drink sounds fine around now. After all, Alcohol does help to...take away pain"
Alia's smile faded - didn't she just know that. "Then how about coming back to my quarters, I have red wine there if that's agreeable - or scotch if that is your preference?"
"Wine sounds fine with me..." she said and smiled weakly to her.
Alia took a deep breath and led the way, looking back over her shoulder to check that Osborn was following. When they entered her quarters she turned to Osborn, "Please, have a seat and I'll fetch the drinks." Alia disappeared off into the other room, "How's your hip?" she shouted back to her before reappearing with a bottle and two glasses and taking a seat next to her.
"Okay. I am gonna have a nice bruise there but hey, who'll notice?" she said and smiled to Alia. She seemed nice and that was what bothered her. Nice...nice wasn't good when you were trying to hate a person.
" ' who'll notice? ' - Don't I just know that feeling." Alia chuckled softly as she poured them both a glass of wine, raising her glass to Maggie before taking a drink, savouring the vintage.
Maggie sipped the wine, enjoying the taste and texture of it. It had been a while since she had had REAL wine. "Italian? Great wine," she said and looked at the bottle. "Well, just as I told Eric...if i was s'posed to be married Starfleet would have issued me a man along with my uniform"
"Eric?" Alia set her glass down, making sure she sounded indifferent about it.
Osborn sat back and nodded. "Yeah, Eric Odin, the Trill from Engineering. He fixed some problems I had in my quarters and later took me out for a friendly drink," she said, taking the glass of wine and sipping it. "Great wine," she said again and smiled.
"Oh really?" Alia asked with raised eyebrows. Now, now Alia...jealousy does not become you...besides you have nothing to be jealous about, you and Eric are just friends - nothing more, she told herself firmly. She remembered with a grimace the little trip that she and Sanchez had paid him earlier. "And how did you find Eric?" she asked politely.
Is she jealous? Jesus, she has the guy target locked and she is jealous...Maggie thought as she looked at Alia. "Well, when the lights were not working and the shower tried to drown me I contacted engineering and it was his shift so he came and fixed it," she answered and tucked a stray of long brown hair away from her face. "Quite a handy guy"
"Really?" Alia replied with an easy smile falling on her features, "I bet he is." she took hold of her glass and drank deeply from it, shaking her head slightly.
Osborn had some sick pleasure in seeing Drakely's reaction. She took a small sip of the wine and looked at the other woman. "So..change of command and everything. What was the deal with the holodeck?" she asked just for conversation sake. She had found out one thing she did not like about Drakely. She was so damn nice it was almost annoying.
"I have no idea." Alia said with a dark frown. "All I know is that it's going to be virtually impossible to keep up my organ practice with these damned new rules. Don't get me wrong, I understand why he's done it, but even so...my standards will slip like anything without frequent practice. And as for my fencing - well, let's just say there aren't many who are willing to serve as a training partner." She took another drink with a sigh, "and now someone's tampered with the accounts, God knows when things will get back to normal. Stupid damned rules." she suddenly smiled apologetically at Osborn, "Sorry - I didn't mean that, it's just annoyed me."
Maggie smile was good natured. "That's okay. I'm not so happy about this either. Me and Victor have these twice a week Target Practice thing and I will miss it. Nothing is like beating a guy," she said with a grin. "And I know how you feel. Every since people heard my nickname as well as the Academy tales Gil served 'em, no one except Victor has been brave enough to have close combat training with me"
Alia suddenly smiled, "Then perhaps I have just found the perfect partner."
Osborn chuckled. "Don't tell me you have a worse name than 'Devil Dog'? I have to warn you, I have hurt people in the past. Everything from broken nose to broken leg"
"Well, what's the point in training if there is no challenge there?" Alia asked with an innocent smile, pouring herself some more drink, "help yourself to wine."
Maggie reached out and poured herself some more wine and then sipped it. "You are right. Hey, maybe we should try something on the holodeck with Azaria. He is relatively okay once you get to know him..." it suddenly hit her again and she smiled weakly. "Oh, that's true. Holodeck is off limits. Maybe we should try the airlock. It would be where we'd be heading if we went to the holodeck anyway"
Alia laughed and then settled back in the sofa with her glass, "So what was preoccupying you when I bumped into you?" Alia asked with a small, genuine smile.
Osborn shrugged. "Just wanting to ask Azaria about something. Cancel the next training session among other things. But he is a smart guy, he'll figure it out when he reads the sign WARNING! Pissed off CO closes Holodeck. Enter through airlock. Or at least that's the way he'll see the message. Victor has a..strange form for humor"
"He sounds like a great guy. I don't think I've had the honour of meeting him yet though." Alia replied taking another drink. It sounded as if it would be an interesting meeting to be introduced to that one.
She smiled. "Yeah, he's a sweetheart, that one," she sipped her drink, feeling much better. "Y'know, I heard he used to be a pilot but got grounded somehow. Or at least that was what Gil told me. And I better believe her since she seems to be the Ship's newsletter. She knows everything that's going on..to some level"
"Gil? Last name?" Alia asked whilst finishing what was left in her glass.
"Lieutenant Junior Grade Vanessa Gil, Flight Control," Osborn answered as she sat her glass on the table. "5'8, dark eyes, dark hair, good figure. Often seen with a drooling Leo Streely by her side"
Alia's brow creased in concentration, "You know, I could swear I've heard that name before. But I have no idea where." She then refilled her glass and emptied the last of the bottle into Osborn's - there was plenty more where that came from she thought with a smile.
Maggie just smiled and sipped the wine. "So..have you been here long?" she asked.
"Not really, I came aboard just before our last mission - and what a mission it was!" Alia shook her head incredulously, she still couldn't quite get her head round that one.
Osborn nodded. "I'm sure it was," she replied and looked at the wine in her glass. It was dark red. John had always drunk white. Just as well, she never liked white. She sipped it thoughtfully.
Alia looked at Osborn's expression, "It's one of the finest I've come across," she said with a nod of the head to her glass. "red was always my favourite, I never was keen on white. A friend of mine had a couple of crates sent to me as a congratulations gift for my commission," she said with a smile to Osborn.
Maggie smiled to Alia. "Well, it is a great wine. I don't like white either it just tastes so..sour to me. or too sweet. And I never get over that dry feeling to it"
"I can give you a couple of bottles if you'd like?" Alia was always eager to share what she considered her small luxuries when she met someone who actually appreciated them.
Maggie smiled. "Thanks but I would never ask for that. I am sure I can get some from home," she said and smiled. "But thanks anyway"
"Anytime. And the offer will be open." Alia smiled at her, "besides, it's more fun this way, you have to come here and have a drink with me if you want some of it." Alia chuckled playfully.
Osborn smiled and decided to change the topic. "So, I don't see a ring on your finger. Anyone special that keeps popping up in your life?" she asked, looking at her.
Alia allowed an easy smile fall on her features, "I'm not sure. There are interests there, but I don't know...I'm not very good at the whole relationship thing."
Maggie nodded. "Been there...I haven't had a relationship with anyone since...the Academy," she stated and sipped her drink.
"Oh?" Alia asked gently taking another drink, "Who was he?"
Maggie was startled by the question and just looked at the wine. She got one of those sad smiles on her face before looking at Alia. "John Farrow. I ran into him at the Academy. Literally. We were playing American Football, he was on the other team...he ended up in sickbay with a few cracked ribs. We got together during the years at the Academy and..well, you know the story. My life with John was..a lot"
Alia's eyes swiftly searched Maggie's face. "Yes..." she said slowly, "Yes I do believe I know that story." Alia muttered with a small smile. "Do you still keep in contact?" Alia asked hastily.
Maggie shook her head. "No...John wanted to marry me but he didn't want a wife in Starfleet. He asked me to resign and I wouldn't. Haven't seen him since then. Last time I checked in the records, he was stationed as Deputy Security Officer on Luna"
"Please forgive me if I speak out of turn, " Alia started with a smile, "but have you ever thought about contacting him? Perhaps you could be friends. Life's too short to cut valued people off. Well, in my opinion anyway."
"I doubt I can forgive him..or him me for that matter," Maggie said and sipped her wine. "Past is past and it don't mean nothing"
"Such an astute view point," Alia murmured, glancing away for a moment. When she looked back, it was with a small smile, "you seem to be a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid of getting it. I respect that."
Osborn smiled. "Thanks. You can get my parents number if you have any complaints," she joked.
With a chuckle Alia shifted to a more comfortable position, "So tell me, who is the lucky man you have your eye upon here? If there is one of course." Alia asked with genuine interest.
Osborn's smile did not change, though her heart felt like it dropped through the deck and out in cold space. "I thought I liked this guy but I don't really do that. He was more of a challenge..."
"Oh?" Alia questioned lightly, "does he have a name?" She asked gently, hoping she wasn't pushing too far. She wasn't trying to pry, she just had a genuine interest in her new acquaintance.
"What is this, the third degree?" she joked and smiled. She didn't want to tell or admit. She left the case closed and sipped her drink. "So, you always wanted to be a Starfleet Officer?" she asked, changing the topic.
"No, not really. I had barely heard of Starfleet until I was 16, and even then, it was only in passing. I didn't apply till I was 23, and even then it was a friend who persuaded me." Good old Jonathan, Alia thought to herself with a smlie, and that reminded her, she really would have to thank him for the drink.
Maggie smiled. "Yeah, I know that feeling. I wanted to be an actress so I went to the University and started majoring in Terran Literature...got over this book by Richard West called 'Starfleet:The Future' and I was hooked. I quit and went to the Academy"
"Really?" Alia asked with a frown, "I had you down for a 'fleet girl through and through."
She smiled. "Thanks. I started out as an act to annoy my sister but I have been doing it for so long that I am the act"
Alia chuckled knowingly, "Yes, that is usually the way it works."
"I know. But I kinda like it now," Maggie said with a small smile. "Fits the uniform, so to speak"
"And a fine uniform it is too." Alia raised her glass in a toast and took a drink.
"I'll agree to that," Osborn said and raised her own glass in a toast before sipping the wine.
"So why security?" Alia asked, wondering how an actress came to the conclusion that she would join security.
Maggie put the glass on the table. "Didn't have the patience or the kindness to join Medical. I never understood the physics it takes for Science. I can't keep a secret, so Intelligence would not be my best choice. But I have always liked order and I like to think I can make a difference. So I ended up in Security, as a brig officer. I used many a day in my youth to break out of force field enclosed rooms"
Alia laughed, "A useful skill if ever there was one."
Maggie nodded. "I don't know a forcefield i have not yet managed to manipulate. Though nowadays i usually keep guys locked in there instead of breaking out"
"I should hope so!" Alia said with mock horror, widening her eyes.
Maggie giggled and sipped her wine. "With me, you'll never know. First rule about me...expect everything and assume nothing"
Alia tilted her head to one side with an impressed smile, "Sounds intriguing. I shall have to keep that in mind."
"What about you? Do you have any personal rules?" Osborn asked, curious.
"Personal rules?" Alia repeated thoughtfully. Many, there were always many, but did anyone ever abide by them? Of course not. So, what was the point? A very good question indeed. "I don't presume to have any. Not now." Alia said with a faint smile.
"Well, I am sure you'll get a few sooner or later. For me it is the only thing keeping me sane. Or at least somewhat sane.." she said and grinned over her own joke. She threw a look at the clock and frowned. "I have to go. I have to get to the gym, eat some, get some sleep before my shift starts," she said and looked at Alia. "This was fun"
Alia rose with a smile. "Yes, it certainly was, we'll have to do it again sometime - as well as that training."
Maggie walked to the door. "Okay. The training might be done later this week? I am sure that Azaria would love to join us," she said and smiled. "I had a fun time, Alia. Bye," she said before leaving, heading to her own quarters to grab some clothes.
Alia's smile turned into a thoughtful expression as she considered the young woman who had just left her quarters. Alia went and retrieved another bottle of wine, she couldn't quite shrug off the insistent nagging at the back of her mind, telling her that something wasn't quite right, so instead she would just have to drown it, she thought as she opened the wine.
"Ghost in the Machine."
Yet another "too-long" post by
Lt.j/g Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley, Acting Asst. Chief Tactical Officer, USS GALAXY
Unauthorized mention of Captain Bhrode and Lt. Rebecca Von Ernst, just after the "Little Worm, Big Hook" post.
(NPC) PO1st Class Tim Mirapoints, Senior Phaser Diagnostic Technician (NPC) Lt. j/g Alexa Zarides, Tactical Officer
**************************************************************************
Ventral Phaser Array Power Allocation Primary node and Primary Repair Nexxus. Deck 12 (Compartment 12-2201)
"SMEG!" Lysander bellowed and threw the PADD across the compartment. The sturdy little recorder unit bounced off the bulkhead and hit the deck unharmed.
Tim "Terror" Mirapoints cursed a few choice ones himself and lifted his head from the LCARS terminal he was hunched over. The PADD had missed his ear by scant microns.
"Hey Ell-Tee, a little warning there? You could have brained me, and then they'd be forced to make me an Ensign, or something."
"Sorry Chief, it's these fricking glitches in the EPS submaster flow regulators..."
"Tell me about them, kid. Everything in the ventral array from the plasma distribution manifolds to the collection plates on the pre-fire chambers reads a-ok. How do the nano-hives report..."
"The surface protectant levels of paranygen animide crystals are back up to 1.2 cm. It's something in the remote damage sensor arrays Chief. Got to be. We've re-sealed and re-tuned every emittor in that whole strip."
"Damn. You know anything about accessing the Optical Data Network? All I know are the phaser systems, kid, and it's still showing the Ventral Strip arrays as 'offline.'"
"I know enough to say let's not even try that stuff without..."
Lysander was cut off by the honking 'whoop' and flashing red lights of a full "RED ALERT."
They'd been working on the phaser problem for over six hours now and STILL the computer core diagnostic program refused to accept the inputs from the monitors outside the hull.
Lysander looked at Tim, who just shrugged and turned back to his seventh attempt to re-route the Level Four diagnostic check to the redundant monitors on the Ventral Phaser Strip.
Lysander loathed the cookie cutter "A+B=C" world of computer logic. Not for the first time, he wished Rebecca was here to analyze the computer glitch that was causing the whole mess.
The Smeggin Princess could usually look at logic code and see any syntaxtical errors. Lysander could do the algorithms in his head, not as quicklly as she could, but still faster than someone with a hand-held Logic Analyzer could.
But why the hell would the Main computer refuse to still acknowledge the repairs they'd made to the phaser array?
Lysander mused the problem all the way down to the Battle Bridge. Alexa Zarides seemed glad to see Lysander, for once. She gratefully let him slide into the Tactical Station on the Battlebridge, and before she took over the Defensive Subsystems monitoring station behind him, she whispered in his ear; "The Chief's on the Bridge with the Captain. Heads up..."
Lysander watched his repeater displays, as they duplicated Rebecca's on the Main Bridge. He was a little surprised that Bhrode didn't want to run a full sensor sweep on the wreckage of the ANTARES class freighter.
In retrospect, Lysander wasn't that surprised. Sitting there, the GALAXY would be a sitting duck for whomever wanted to take a pop at her.
The klaxons and lights ended. The "Stand Down" order went out, and Lysander let Alexa return to the Tactical Station. Such were the joys of power, for the Assistant. Total elapsed time, less than five minutes. Hours of engine time and stress to go back to the shuttles now. Yippee.
Suppressing a yawn, Lysander went over to one of the now vacant workstations and called up the computer ODN network schematic.
Something, somewhere was screwed in the system.
~~Okay, the sensors feed two places, right to the Tactical Arch and to the Saucer ODN, which goes via Umbilical Interconnections to one of the two Main Comp Cores, and the Engineering Computer Core. So there's four versions of the same report...
Sensors seem to be operative...wait a second...what do the Auxilliary amd Engioneering Computer Cores show?~~
Lysander stared at the results. Three of the reports showed the phaser problem fixed and operative. The fourth, from the Main Bridge feed still showed the array unsealed and off-line.
Lysander was reaching for the Comm button on the LCARS when Zarides' conversation registered in his brain.
"Roger that Bridge. Switching Tactical Control to Battle Bridge station on your mark...mark. I have the control Ma'm."
Lysander hovered over Alexa's shoulder. Rebecca had just switched the tactical control of the ship over to her backup. Why?
What could be so important that she'd have to leave her station in the middle of an Alpha Shift?
Cathcing Lysander's silent questioning, the Bajoran woman mouthed to him one word of answer.
"Bhrode."
Lysander's eyebrows shot up.
Why would the Captain summon Rebecca to his Ready Room so soon following a Red Alert?
And more importantly, how was he going to react when Lysander asked for a Level Two diagnostic of the Main Bridge's computer interconnections?
"The Frightened Band Together"
A Joint Post By:
Lieutenant Electra Reece, Chief Operations Officer AND
Lieutenant James Corgan, Assistant Chief of OPS
Location: Lexa's Quarters
Dinner was a sullen affair. The busy work day, combined with the stresses of other people wore out Lexa and James as they drooped over their meals. James was feeling more rotten than usual, thanks to the lack of anti-depressants available. He was also working double duty at Ops to keep up with the torrent of paperwork and systems monitoring, and with the new eight hour shifts, his idea of double duty was drastically changed for the worse.
He uneasily picked at his steak. Food didn't taste as good tonight as it did before. His sense of taste was stronger ever since he was off the pills, but it didn't matter much when he felt miserable. He was fatigued, overworked, and always trying to keep the department on track. It wasn't an easy job, and the new leadership didn't make it easier.
Lexa sat at the table across from James, sipping at syntheholic wine as she looked at the remains of her replicated dinner. "Tomorrow should prove a lengthy day. What with the new eight and a half hour shifts on the bridge. I miss Captain Price. He never expected all of the paperwork that Brhode expects."
"I know what you mean, Lex. That @$$hole has some gall, piling all that paperwork on us when we have enough problems making sure the shields don't collapse and the sensors don't fry." Corgan complained, "I can put up with double shifts before, but this new schedule makes it even harder. Some days, I might have to cut it down to one and a half shifts under this new duty rotation."
"I suppose he might be a good captain but -- I don't know -- I just don't like him. He gives off bad vibes or something. I don't know how to explain it. And -- the command decisions he's made -- I mean, REBECCA as second officer? She's a great person and I love her -- but -- REBECCA?!?"
James was sympathetic towards her concerns. He knew Rebecca, and admired her for her intelligence, not her leadership skills. He didn't like to talk about a friend in a manner unbecoming of a friend, but he had to voice his concerns as well.
"She's a good friend of mine too, Lex, but let's face it, Captain Brhode doesn't have a clue about the officers in general. If he knew about Rebecca, he would have never made her second officer. Rebecca isn't ready to command yet. It's a wonder she's the Chief Tactical Officer, much less the second in command. If Starfleet Command, and by them I mean Admiral Hoth, keep trying to push her into command, she's gonna snap. I don't want that to happen to her. I think we should try to help her however we can."
"But she's closed herself off. I rarely saw her in Ten Forward before but now I never do. I don't even see her come for meals in the mess hall. I'm not sure how to reach her, James." And for that matter, Lexa still wasn't comfortable with James' relationship with the petite tactical officer. "And she just won't ask for help. I'm not sure how to reach her." As their eyes met, they shrugged, both deciding to think about it more.
"I'm not so sure either, Lex. That girl is bad luck, down to every one of her decisions. I also heard about the shields.." James said changing the subject, "It's cooled the ship's core by thirty one percent, but it's also going to leave the ship vulnerable. Resetting the shields to accept all available settings takes minutes, time we may not have in an emergency. I would have thought that she was going to do something like that, but to my surprise, even she makes mistakes. Don't tell Rebecca, but I've got a solution."
James handed over a Padd, marked 'Shield Frequency Override'. She studied the Padd dubiously.
"I can preprogram orders to the computer to bring back all the other shield frequency and harmonic settings in case we run into some trouble, like say .... a Orion raider. If she doesn't like it, she can talk to me. I'll even risk a demotion to go over her head, if it means that this could save lives."
"Except going over her head means going to the captain and he's liable to court-martial you and go with Rebecca's suggestion anyway. Besides, it would be my job to do it, or you'd be going over my head, too."
"Damn ... I'm not going to risk going over your head! That's just asking for it!" Corgan laughed, "Then, if this isn't asking too much, would you be able to give my suggestion to Captain Brhode? If you don't want to, I can always give it to the Captain with your permission."
"No, be my guest. But ... be sure he knows I let you do this. I don't think he likes female officers and I don't want to lose my position because he thinks you show better."
"Thanks Lexa. I'll be careful. Ughhhh ..." James rubbed his throbbing temple. Headaches were getting worse ever since he came off his drugs, "I've been feeling like sh*t ever since Dr. An'quinsos took me off my pills. The guy told me to get a pet, and I end up with two tribbles. Found them crawling along the ODN relays on deck 14 a few days ago. I got them spayed and registered, which means I can't beg for anymore pills from Dr. An'quinsos. Damn!"
Lexa reached out a hand and laid it on his arm, squeezing in sympathy.
"Sorry about that ..." James said, "Just about everything's been annoying me lately, including those little buggers at Primary school. Can you believe they have a skip rope rhyme about me? They count down the days until I go crazy. I wonder where they hear about that?"
"The Galaxy may be a big ship but it's a small community. And kids take things they overhear and don't understand and twist them to be fun. Don't let it get to you."
"You're right. So... how's Brhode treating you? Last I talked to him about leaving to present to the schoolchildren, he acted like I was wasting my time. Is he treating you any better?" James asked.
"Every time Brhode looks at me, I feel like he is judging and I'm coming up short. It is not fun. And we don't even know why Price left or any of the others. It was so quick. It is disturbing."
"You have the right to be worried, and more so than you think." Corgan grumbled, "When I was fighting during the war, we had names for captains like him. We called them 'Hawks', as opposed to Captain Picard wanna be's that we liked to call 'Doves'. Hawks are aggressive, and it carries through during peacetime. I may not like the idea of being lead by a guy who learned his captaincy during the Dominion War, but I don't have a say in it." James forced a mouthful of beef down his throat. He let the unpalatable chunk of replicated protein slide down, "Me, I don't know Captain Price that well, and I know even less about Captain Brhode, besides the fact that he's a hawk. All I can say is that we have to bide our time and see what our new Captain is like before we come to any strong conclusions. Sure, he's heaped a sh*tload of work on us, he treats us like grunts and all the changes going on don't make it any easier, but that'll pass. Who knows, maybe he'll be just as good as Captain Price."
"You're right. We can't do anything and I don't want him to spoil my evenings like he will my days." She smiled at him.
"Yeah ... at least we have our dinners together." James smiled, feeling a little bit better, "I don't know what I'd do without you. Probably go insane and start ripping out the bulkheads."
She smiled. "Nah. You'd find someone to rescue." ~ Someone worth rescuing. ~
"And to show my appreciation ... I have a little something for you. Want to see?" James whispered.
He led Lexa out of her seat and towards the living room couch. Sitting her down, he gestured to wait a moment. He stepped away and searched in his discarded duffel bag for a package. He felt the crinkly wrapping of a rectangular, fist-sized box. He pulled it out and showed it to Lexa.
"You need some cheering up, so I thought I would present to you your present. Merry Christmas, Lex." James gladly smiled. An act of kindness, and her approving smile, always cheered him up when he was at his lowest.
She stared at the present, surprised and pleased at his thoughtfulness. ~ Oh, dear. I'll have to get down to the replimat tomorrow and get him something. He's so sweet. ~
"What are you waiting for? Open it up!" James excitedly sat down on the plush couch.
Slowly and carefully, she pulled the wrapping from the package as he waited impatiently. Lovingly, her hands opened the box to reveal the beautiful jewelry set James had gotten from Sal. Her eyes widened in stunned amazement.
"Do you like it?" James asked.
"James, it's beautiful. It's too much. It must have cost you so much latinum."
"I'm glad you like it. Nothing's too good for you to have, Lex. Want to try it on?"
"I would love to," Lexa replied.
James gently tugged the jeweled necklace from its case. He slid the necklace around her neck, moving closer to get a better reach. Expertly clasping the two end together, he sat back to see the jewelry.
It sparkled brilliantly, outshining everything except her own beauty. James was breathtaken by the sight. He wanted to convey how well it looked. He couldn't find the words to describe it, except for 'Damn' in a childish voice. Instead, he choose some beautiful poetry. "I'll give you whatever I can, and more, because I love you that much. Lex ... I know this past week has been busy, and we'll have more weeks like this in our careers, but I'm glad that I can come out of my shift to meet you every day."
James reassuringly stroked her hair, "It makes my travels on this ship, my duties, even my life, that much more worthwhile. You do all this for me, and the least I can do is to give you a present during the holidays. Lex ... I love you, and I'll do almost anything to prove it."
Lexa leaned forward and kissed him, loving the feel of his mouth on hers. Her eyes closed as the good feelings James caused washed over her. As his tongue traced the outline of her lips before slipping inside her mouth, she moaned lightly, her hands running through the hair at the back of his neck. Her touch excited James to the core. He longed for her affection, thirsted to get closer to her than ever before. His lips left hers and trailed a sensual line down her neck, tantalizing her sensitive spot. She craned her neck back and gasped softly.
James wanted more. He wanted to lose himself in their private ecstasy and never escape. In their passionate embrace, her problems and his evaporated as their urges took hold. He felt excited, pleased to keep Lexa happy, and caring for nothing else. Corgan wanted to test the waters slowly, so cautiously his free hand slid down her thigh, tracing its way along the inside of her legs. Closer, his fingers stroked their way to her pleasure center, then stroked away, teasing for a reaction. He kept the motion, back and forth, each time coming inches closer towards being risqué.
Electra was enjoying the sensations that being in James' arms were creating but as his fingers approached the apex of her thighs, she involuntarily stiffened. All at once, as she opened her eyes, she beheld not the man she loved but her rapist, her stalker, Poet, as he abused her months ago. She began pushing at him and screaming. "No no no no no no no no no!" The mantra poured from her lips as she scrambled away from him and cowered in the corner of the sofa, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to block out the memories.
It was like a bucket of cold water being thrown into his eyes. As quickly as it started, Lexa pulled away, wild eyed and frightened. His pleasant feeling, the satisfaction knowing that he was giving her pleasure, the heady rush of love and lust, shattered and lay in ruins around his feet. There were so many pieces, he didn't know what to pick up. He was left astonished and confused, wondering what possessed him to go so far in the first place. He also tried to guess why Lexa would all the sudden just pull away, without much success in finding an answer.
"What's wrong?" James hurriedly asked, "Was it something I did? Oh ... I'm so sorry Lex. I didn't mean to hurt you... I'm so sorry ... whatever I did, I'm very sorry ..."
His words washed over her and brought her back to reality. She raised her head to look at him and his stricken face gave her the clue as to what she had done. She fell forward back into his arms as she sobbed against his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm soooo sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The words kept repeating as the earlier ones had as tears soaked his shirt and her body heaved from the force of her sobs.
"It's ok, Lex. You don't have to worry about a thing. I didn't mean to scare you like that, honest." James patted her hair softly. Slowly, he sat Electra back down on the couch, her head resting on his chest as she sobbed softly. "Lex, what's on your mind? Is something bothering you?"
"Oh, James. I'm so sorry." Slowly, she sat up and wrapped her arms around her midsection. "Forgive me. I - I - I ... um ... it is just that before she left, Karyn and I had a session and she ... well ... she ... I recalled everything that happened when I was in the escape pod with -- him. He ... oh god ... he ... he ... he -- raped me ... but he couldn't -- he couldn't... he used a phaser rifle to -- and I -- I'm sorry but when you -- oh god -- you touched me and I saw -- it was like I was -- he was -- oh god -- I'm so sorry. It's not you. It's me. He -- made me defective. I can't control it. I have -- dreams -- nightmares -- and you -- turn into -- every night. I want it to stop. And I love you but I'm scared, James. So scared. What if -- I am never normal? What if he warped me forever?"
~"This is a lot to take in."~ Corgan considered. He picked up on the rape story easily, but the part that miffed him was the claim that he was turning into something else in her dreams. ~"Is this what she really thinks about me? Is she afraid that I'm going to do what Poet did to her?"~ He had to go into recovery mode. Lexa was a wreck and he didn't feel good about leaving her in this state.
"Normal or not, it doesn't matter to me. I still love. I'll never ... ever .... do what he did to you. Never. I can't even comprehend why he went so far, and I don't think you're defective because of it."
"I know you're going through hell, and I don't blame you. What Poet did robbed you in more ways than I can possibly comprehend." James searched for a meaningful thing to say, "You can take back most of what he stole, Lex."
Lexa snuggled against his chest, her breathing softening as she relaxed into his embrace.
"You're not alone anymore. You have me, you have your friends and you have people who are willing to help you out." James hugged her closer, "We're not alone. Demons don't seem so bad when you have someone to count on. I hope I can be that kind of person, as long as you let me help you."
Perfectly comfortable on Lexa's sofa, James sat back and let Lieutenant Reece finish her wracked sobs.
"It's ok ..." He whispered, "You're safe with me. You'll always be safe with me."
"Unavoidable Destiny"
Starring Rebecca von Ernst
Guest Starring John Brhode
(USS GALAXY)
The only sound to be heard in the small austere Ready Room that was the Inner Sanctum of Captain John Brhode was the soft tapping of his fingers on his Desktop LCARS and the deep nervous breathing of the little girl standing at attention before him.
Captain Brohde had barely looked up as the skittish Rebecca von Ernst had nervously poked her head into his Ready Room, and other than locking her in her tracks with a single cold stare he had all but ignored her for the past five minutes as he continued to consult his computer about something or other,
Rebecca fidgeted nervously at attention, acutely aware of a rather cold bead of sweat trailing its way down between her shoulder blades. She attempted to shift her posture slightly to remove the annoyance, but received a second disapproving glance from Brhode for her troubles. Officers at 'attention' weren't supposed to wiggle.
Again with out a word he returned to his typing.
~~~What the Noodles is going on here!?~~~ her mind was racing . Not five minutes ago Commander Chris Thomas had emerged from this same office in a sort of a bewildered daze, and had strode off the bridge quickly only mumbling "Captain wants to..see you." to the startled Rebecca in passing.
Watching her number one critic disappear into the turbolift shaft without preamble, she had noticed he hadn't even turned around upon entering. Instead he kept his back turned upon the bridge until the doors hissed shut behind him.
~~~He wants to see me?~~~ her mind had repeated ~~~What the noodles did I do now?~~~
Despite her supercomputer-sized brain, Rebecca hadn't a clue. Almost without thought she quickly made the necessary arrangement to transfer Tactical Control down to the Battle Bridge Team while she was away from her post, and slowly took the long daunting walk down around the arch towards the simple little door off the Port Side of the Bridge.
She stood nose to nose with the door for a second before quickly realizing she had forgotten she was ranking officer on the Bridge and thus needed to establish a replacement while she was in the office.
Awkwardly spinning around her eyes swept over the assembled officers who were pretending to totally ignore her.
~~~Och, Noodles..who to pick?~~~ she bit her bottom lip in doubt.
In the end she picked the only person present she really knew. "Uh.Lexa.I mean Lieutenant Reece" she fumbled for the proper protocol, "You uh...you .uh.." Rebecca nodded towards the big empty chair in the center of the bridge. "You..."
Electra Reece saved her by acknowledging the stuttered order. "Aye Ma 'am. I have the Bridge." She said with an encouraging wink.
Smiling a brief nervous thanks to her tall friend. Rebecca about-faced and rang the Ready Room Chime.
^^^^^^^^^^^
That was seven minutes ago now, and still no words from Brhode other than the initial "Enter."
Rebecca allowed her eyes to trace over the long clean lines of the office, devoid of the usual trimmings favored by the previous Captain Price. Rebecca had rare occasion to see the insides of the Ready Room but she always had the urge to go poking into the various artifacts Price collected in curiosity. Instead her examinations were limited to sneaky glances out of the corners of her eyes while the Captain wasn't looking.
Like he was now!!
~~~Crap oh noodles!~~~ Rebecca jumped back to eyes front. Captain Brhode had apparently finished whatever he was involved in and was leaning back in his chair staring right into her soul as it were.
The grim faced old warrior considered her intently for a brief moment before launching straight into his duty. Brhode was never one to pussyfoot around, and this was no exception.
"Atten-HUT." He commanded sharply watching the tiny lass before him attempt to stand even straighter than she already was.
Reaching an arm forward to spin his little Desk computer around so that Rebecca could read its screen. " I have just finished communicating with the Bureau of Personnel back at Starfleet Command." He announced simply. "By order of BuPers, as of Stardate 50112.23 Rebecca von Ernst Serial Number SFA741072 is hereby ordered to assume the Duties of FIRST OFFICER aboard the United Starship Galaxy NCC-70637 with all the rights and responsibilities thereof."
Standing to his own feet he continued. " In addition, you are as of this Stardate awarded the Brevet Promotion to rank of Full Commander, and to revert to the Permanent Rank of Lt. Commander should you ever leave this vessel.
As Rebecca watched in stunned silence Brhode crossed the small room to the corner Replicator and commanded. " Computer, Replicate Authorized Rank pips for Brevet Commander Von Ernst. Authorization as of BuPers this Stardate."
The Computer ground through its files, and selecting the appropriate authorization materialized the tiny pins. Simple Computer safeguards prevented most officers from requesting rank pips beyond their current allowance.
Collecting the pips, Brhode turned back towards the trembling Rebecca and moved to place them at her slender neck.
She tried not to fidget as he approached, and had to smother an involuntary yelp as his skin touched hers inadvertently. Surprising! The Captain's fingers were warm and comfortable against her neck as he worked at her collar. Not at all slimy or distasteful, and she could detect a very faint but pleasant cologne in his midst. Nothing overstated or really noticeable, but..nice.
Rebecca blinked to bring herself back to the horrible matter at hand.
Brhode was stepping back with a critical eye on her pips trying to ascertain their evenness. Two of the three pins were the standard Gold circles of Starfleet Rank. The third pip however was silver in color instead to symbolize the nature of her Brevet Promotion.
She was a Commander in all forms and fashion except for the pay grade, and should she ever leave her post as XO aboard the Galaxy, that silver pip would be lost in favor of a black one instead. Such distinctions were minor really for day to day purposes, and it really didn't lessen the impact of what was happening to her.
~~~I'm being promoted?...Again?~~~
Nodding in satisfaction that the pins were lined up correctly, Brhode clasped his hands behind his back and gave the tiny girl a curt nod. "Congratulations Number One. I'm afraid we'll have to dispense with the formal pleasantries of promotion, and get down to business. Mr. Thomas left us in a bit of a lurch here."
~~~A BIT of a Lurch!!!??!!~~~ Rebecca reeled. ~~~How about he dropped an angry Targ in my lap!!~~~
"S.sir..I.." she began, but Brhode held up a stiff hand to silence her.
"Before you say something you might regret Commander, I'll give you this ONE warning. Mr. Thomas has been in this business long enough to know the rules of the game, but given your circumstances I'll explain it to you this time only."
Rebecca gulped and snapped her jaw shut. The new pips seemed to weigh down on her neck already.
"You may be feeling emotions of self-doubt and worry Commander. You may be temporarily overwhelmed at he prospect of what just happened to you." Brhode returned to his chair behind the desk and motioned for Rebecca to stand 'at ease' but didn't offer her a seat of her own.
"As a matter of fact Commander, knowing what I know about your service record, I would be quite surprised if you managed to keep a hold on your breakfast after a shock like this." Brhode stated it matter-of-fact without the slightest hint of amusement.
"I don't give a shit," he continued, "Go ahead and blow chunks soldier, but then wipe your damned lips off and get out there and take charge the way I KNOW you can. The truth of the matter is that you have no idea how brave you really are Commander. You have no idea that of all the various officers aboard this ship, I would trust YOU the most with the duty of getting things done. I value you a thousand times more than Thomas You want to know why?"
"W.w.why s..s.sir?" she barely managed, thankful for once that she had already left her breakfast on the holodeck floor during this morning's PT with Sanchez.
Brhode leaned forward and slapped his hand loudly on the desk causing Rebecca to jump. "Because DAMNIT, you're still HERE! You're not a QUITTER!! Starfleet is a voluntary organization Commander, and you could have quit and returned to that little farm in Minnesota after your first week at the Academy. I read your file backwards and forwards Commander, you have suffered emotional and mental trauma at every post you have ever held. Do you think you could have spent Four years at the Academy and three years in the Fleet without someone noticing that you live in abject FEAR of social situations? You're terrified of what the rest of us take for granted."
"Damnit von Ernst, I trust you because every single day you do the impossible. Every morning you have to get up, face your deepest darkest fears, and still report for Duty. And for the last seven years since you were a Freshman Cadet During Hell Week you have done exactly that!"
Rebecca blinked in confusion, and Brhode explained.
"You probably have more experience in operating normally in spite of your fears than almost anybody else in Starfleet. The example I think of is a grunt asked to face terrifying overwhelming odds every single day for seven years without a single break. That's what you do. Every soldier has to face certain questions Commander. The foremost is 'what will I do when I get scared' Some will fold up and whimper, costing men their lives. Its tragic but there's no way to screen that out in the Academy. You simply have to send them in harm's way and hope you trained them well. "
Brhode pointed a stern finger at Rebecca's freckled nose. "But with YOU Commander its different. I know what scares you, and I know that even in the face of facing those fears every single day you HAVE NOT QUIT. You may cry or whimper, or even puke your guts out on a Review Board like after that Nar Hallas incident...But you're STILL here!"
The Captain settled back into his chair and spoke gravely. "Admiral Hoth may have smoothed the road for you a bit here and there, Commander, but nobody else but YOU forced yourself to pull your boots on every morning, and THAT...That's what I trust in you. You may stutter and puke, but when the shit hits the fan, I know you're still going to be right there in spite of your fears. That's what I want in a right hand man."
Tapping his chest to open a ship-wide Intercom Brhode announced without preamble, "ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
The Captain frowned. "Now get the hell out of my face Commander." He ordered and Rebecca scooted.
Stepping back out on the bridge a second later, Rebecca leaned heavily against the smooth Ready Room doors to catch her breath. Brhode's announcement was just now fading away, and the Bridge was as quiet as a tomb, all eyes upon the tiny new XO and her new gold and silver pips.
What, she wondered, was the reaction going to be?
"Destiny takes strange forms"
LCDR Michael O'Grady
Chief counselor
With Excerpts from "Unavoidable Destiny"
Mike settled back in his chair, the ship that they were supposed to rescue was destroyed. And now Rebecca was in the Captain's ready room.
Suddenly with his typical Brevity an annoucnement came through. "ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
Suddenly the door opened and a pale looking Rebecca Von Ernst walked out with her new pip. The crew gaped and he even stared.
What was that poor girl thinking right now, she had to be scared, overwhelmed, and thinking she was in way over her head. Mike stood up and walked over to her.
He extened his hand, "Congratulations commander, if you need to talk or anything, please don't hesitate to stop by." He smiled his usual friendly smile and shook her smaller hand in his.
Then he stepped back to his chair and tried to see if anything could be picked up from the destroyed vessel's manifest.
He'd like to do a psycological profile of the vessel's captain, see what happened.
"Captain, as part of the investigation woudl you like counseling to work on a profile of the freighter's commander?" He'd probablyt take volunteers for the assignment as opposed to making it mandatory.
"O Coward Conscience, How Dost Thou Afflict Me!" -- pt. 2
Lt. (j/g) Brian Elessidil
Counselor
Lt. (j/g) Alia Drakely
Security Officer
Alia had to chuckle slightly at everything Brian had done for her, he'd even got the guitar theme right. She gratefully took a sip from the hot mug and wrapped her fingers tightly around it, "Well..." she began with a deep breath, " as you already seem to know, I couldn't sleep. Well, no, actually, that's untrue, I did get to sleep, but then I woke up again, and I can't back to sleep. But it's the first time I've allowed myself to sleep properly in God only knows how long and...well...I can't..." She shook her head in defeat, "I can't keep it up, I need to sleep." she could feel her throat tightening slightly and the prickling of tears in her eyes, "I'm constantly weary and I'm in pain. I can't go to sickbay and to me this was the only other option." she looked down into her mug, "I'm sorry."
Brian was genuinely concerned for her. Leaning forward with his forearms resting on his lap, he spoke gently. "There's nothing to be sorry about, Alia. Tell me about this 'pain'; is it physical or emotional? And why haven't you been allowing yourself to sleep?"
She carefully took a sip of her drink, "If I'm being honest...the pain is both. In fact, I'm sure I'm becoming over emotional...as you can probably tell." She gave him a nervous laugh, "And my head feels like it's going to implode any minute. As for not allowing myself to sleep, well, it didn't really start like that, it wasn't intentional at first..." she trailed off. Running a tense hand through her hair, she said, "I'm sorry that I'm not very good at this - but I'm just not used to it, I've never talked like this..." she used her hand to motion around the room and at Brian, "...before."
Following the sweep of her hand, Brian asked, "Is is the surroundings you're uncomfortable with, Alia, or is it the notion of speaking openly with a counselor in general?"
"I have to admit, I've never talked openly with a counselor before." Alia let out a soft chuckle, but she still frowned, "My father would have a fit! He taught us that counselors are for the weak. That I should be strong enough to cope with whatever life threw at me by myself without anyone else's help, and that if I did seek assistance that I would have failed in someway."
"Alia, let me assure you of one thing: the only 'failure' when it comes to getting help when we need it is not asking for it. None of us lives in a vacuum; there are times when we ask things of others and there are times when others ask things of us. It's all part of being human and it's what keeps us connected."
Brian allowed his own words to ring in his head for a moment. 'Counselor, advise thyself,' he thought briefly.
Returning his thoughts to Alia, he continued, "It's very commendable that you came here tonight." He smiled reassuringly at her. "Please, keep going. Tell me what's overwhelming you so much right now."
"I'm just having a disturbed sleep, I guess." she answered indifferently hoping that perhaps she could get away with that, but she knew even as she said it she wouldn't. She dropped her head into her hands, "I'm getting nightmares, and these last few years it's got to the point where I would rather not let my self sleep properly then face them. Stupid I know." she admitted softly.
"No, Alia, it's not 'stupid' at all. It fact, it sounds very important that we try to figure out what's at the root of these nightmares. Frankly, I'm amazed that you've managed to carry out your day-to-day duties in this state. It sounds to me like you're under a lot of excess strain because of this, but I'm sure I don't need to tell you that." Brian in no way wished to appear condescending to his new patient, but he truly felt sorry for her.
Cautiously, he suggested, "Alia, do you think you might be able to tell me about these nightmares in detail? And is it always the same stuff or does it vary?"
Alia shook her head and put her drink down. Stimulants are wonderful things, she thought to herself. She brought her legs up, wrapping her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. "I just feel like such a child. Being bothered by nightmares. It varies..." She trailed off for a moment, taking a deep breath. "It's mostly to do with things from...before the Academy."
Listening intently, Brian gently encouraged her, "Go on -- what things from before the Academy?"
"It's rather...awkward..." she tried to give him a reassuring chuckle. How in the universe would she explain. She didn't know if she even could. "There are many things that I've done in the past that I'm not proud of...and they are haunting me." She suddenly caught his eye, "but I had to. I...I was sure there was no other way." She hurried to try and explain herself to him.
Sensing her concern, Brian responded, "I'm not here to judge you, Alia. I want to help you get to the source of what's troubling you. If I in any way indicated a reaction to what you said, it's only because I think we're moving along the right path." Pausing briefly so she could absorb his words, Brian again encouraged her gently, "Please, go on."
She gave him a nod. "When my family, for various reasons, decided to...they asked me to..." She gave up with a sigh. "They disowned me." She stated simply, a tear slipping down her face. "I needed to get away from them. I really did have no choice on that one. But I left with nothing. The only way I could travel was to seek employment in trade - or smuggling if we're being realistic. But what could an eighteen year old girl, educated in the histories offer in such a world of trade?" The tears were increasing now, and she had to look down, lifting a hand to cover her eyes. She attempted to pull herself together, "I'm sorry."
From somewhere beside him, Brian produced a container of tissues. Handing it to Alia, he said gently, "I'm sure it must have been a terrible life for an eighteen year-old. Being disowned by your family and then having to find a way, a dangerous and difficult way in every sense, to survive -- Alia, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You courageously did what you had to do under extreme circumstances. In fact, you have every reason to be proud that you made it through that dark, terrible time to become the strong woman I'm sitting here with today."
It was at moments like this that Brian realized how relatively fortunate he had been growing up. True, he had had his own difficulties, even tragedies perhaps, but he had heard far worse stories from others and was always amazed at how strong the human spirit could be.
"I'm sure this is difficult but I think we're going to have to revisit that time so we can work toward cutting off these nightmares at their source." Brian purposely chose to say "we're" to help Alia understand that she would not be alone in this mission. "It's going to take some time and some effort -- are you willing to let me help you do this?" He wanted to ascertain her willingness to do the the work, no matter how painful at time, but more importantly, he wanted to know that she trusted him. Although he hadn't sensed anything to the contrary, he wanted to make sure she said it out loud, both for his benefit and hers.
"Yes," She replied quietly, but also hastily, she was keen to try and reassure the man who had been so kind to her, "I'm sorry if I've seemed ungrateful, it's just difficult to talk about. Can you understand that?"
Equally eager to reassure, Brian replied, "I understand completely, Alia. As I said, it's going to be difficult, but you can get through it. And you in no way strike me as 'ungrateful', if that's even relevant. This is going to take time, and you may even get angry with me for pushing you, that's entirely ok. Just bear in mind that I will never demand more of you than I think you can handle or than I think is necessary to help you through this."
Pausing again so the emotional woman could reflect on his words, he looked at her with all the tenderness he could muster. He wanted her to know he understood how difficult this was for her.
Finally, after a few moments of silence, he asked, "Are you ready to continue telling me about the nightmares?"
"Killing with Words"
By Lieutenant jg Mike Pailaka
****10 Forward****
Mike stepped into 10 Forward feeling frustrated to the core. Unlike the majority of the crew, however, it had nothing directly to do with the new Captain or the changes in command. After his initial bad encounter with Brhode, the two seemed to have reached an uneasy truce. Perhaps getting the chance to see Mike doing his job during the mad dash to answer the distress call put his mind at ease. Mike's opinion of Brhode was also starting to shift as well. There was no doubt that the new Captain was a stick by the book disciplinarian, but then Mike's life revolved around daily discipline as well.
And it was the disruption of this discipline that was driving Mike to distraction. His normally quiet evening gym workouts had been turned into a circus by the new holodeck restrictions. The traffic in the main gymnasium had increased by a factor of ten, and the majority of the newcomers had little understanding or respect for the equipment. He had already reset one dislocated shoulder, broken up a fight on the workout mats and had ended up teaching an impromptu class on weight training and muscle isolation so that the holodeck safety interlock pampered masses would not cause further injury to themselves or the equipment. Every station had a line. He had to retreat below decks to one of the smaller exercise centers reserved for the enlisted crewmen and had taken to running laps around deck 10 for his cardio. None of it was particularly satisfying, and if it went on for too long, he would start to loose his edge, not something he was looking forward to.
But if Mike was feeling a bit down in the dumps, it was nothing compared to what he beheld in 10 Forward. While every decoration, every piece of furniture was the same and the lighting ambiance remained unchanged, the atmosphere of the lounge had undergone a transformation. The first thing to hit Mike was the smell. The scent of real alcohol permeated the room. Apparently, the gymnasium was not the only substitute for the holodecks. Secondly, there was the background noise, a low volume cacophony of murmured conversation was a staple of the lounge, but gone was the lilting sounds of laugher, replaced instead with disgruntled mutterings and oaths.
Mike sighed and scanned the faces in the bar. Few of them were happy ones. At the bar, Leo was chatting up an attractive civilian woman wearing a pair of painted on leather pants. That at least was worth a second look. He strolled past her as made his way across the lounge and smiled as he caught her, eye, pleased to see a smile in return. 'At least some folks are still in a good mood.' He thought. "Leo, can you set me up with my usual?" He asked.
"Sure thing, pally." Leo said, taken aback at being pulled away from the woman and forced to do actual work. "Oh, and Zuk was looking for you. He's over in the far corner."
"Oh, he's here already?" Mike said craning his neck. With a little effort, he spotted the Ferengi quartermaster at a small table, with his back to the bulkhead, talking quietly with a pair of crewmen. "Thanks, Leo, I'll let you get back to your conversation now. Just get me the drink when you have the time." He looked down at the dark haired woman and tipped an imaginary hat. "Ma'am." He said, dismissing himself.
Zuk was smiling and shaking hands with the crewmen as Mike approached his table. He looked up at the large pilot, his grin broadening. "Lieutenant! Just in time! Please, grab a seat! Did you order a drink yet?" Zuk turned to the two crewmen. "Gentlemen, pleasure doing business with you. Stop by my office tomorrow and we'll wrap things up."
Mike took his seat and waited until he and Zuk were alone. He placed his elbows on the table and leaned across in a conspiratorial manner. "Zuk, just what are you up to?"
"Nothing worth mentioning." He said with a delighted chuckle. "Just fulfilling my appointed duties by supplying the Galaxy's personnel with the goods and services they require."
"We had a name for people like you in prison. " Mike said, smiling. "We called you fixers."
"Fixers?" Zuk said, rolling the word around in his mouth like a fine spoonful of tube grubs. "I like it!" He reached under the table and pulled a data padd out of his carry bag. He placed it flat down on the table and slid it across to Mike with one hand.
"You got it?" Mike asked.
"You doubt my abilities? I'm offended!" Zuk exclaimed, feigning indignation.
Mike picked up the padd and scrolled through the listed inventory. "Awe! Are you serious? You got all dat?"
Zuk simply nodded, his pride showing through.
"And none of this stuff is replicated? It is all the real deal?"
"Every tasty morsel." Zuk said.
"And nothing illegal was involved here?" Mike asked, his tone becoming stern.
"Mike, please, I'm a member of Starfleet, same as you. I wouldn't do a thing that would jeopardize my career!"
"Or your lucrative side business."
"Exactly!" Zuk stated. He folded his hands on the table. "Now, about the item I requested."
Mike fished into a pocket in his slacks and palmed an isolinear chip. He slipped it to Zuk beneath the table in a casual motion that went unnoticed by the rest of the off duty officers.
"I'm impressed." Zuk said. "Very professional. Learn that in prison?"
"I learned a lot of things in prison." Mike said.
"I'm not going to ask." Zuk said with a slight shudder. He opened his palm and slipped the chip into one of his pockets. "I am, however, looking forward to giving this a whirl."
"You have enough holodeck time?" Mike asked.
"More than enough." Zuk smiled. "These days, it's a valuable commodity. I made a few deals with some folks. If you need any extra."
"No, I'm fine. I prefer to take my recreation in the real world for the most part."
"I do not doubt it, my friend." Zuk said, grinning. I think you may have caught the eye of the young lady at the bar. She and Leo have been talking about you."
"Really? You can hear that?" Mike's gaze shifted to Zuk's ears. "Uh, right, dumb question."
"Go talk to her!" Zuk insisted. Mike looked hesitant. "Go on! What have you got to lose?"
"My dignity?" Mike suggested.
"Dignity and an empty sack is worth the sack." Zuk replied. "Rule of acquisition 109. Now go fill your sack!"
"Ah hell, why not?" Mike said, rising from his chair and straightening his uniform. "Besides, Leo still hasn't brought me that drink!"
"That's the spirit!" Zuk said. "And who knows, she might even want to interview you afterwards!"
"Howzit?!?" Mike said, stopping dead in his tracks. He turned back to the table. "Interview?"
"Yeah, didn't you know? She's a reporter." Zuk looked startled at the sudden transformation that came over his friend. Mike's whole frame seemed to stiffen. His jaw tightened and something dark seemed to flash behind his eyes. "Mike?"
"You would think they would have learned after the last time!" Mike said in disdain. "Buckman and Brocklin weren't enough for them. They had to let them infest this ship again!"
"Come on Mike, seriously!" Zuk said. "They may be a little nosey but they' re harmless really!"
"Harmless? Mike said, his voice wavering. "The last time a harmless reporter boarded this ship I ended up in prison for nearly two years and my little sister ended up dead! So don't tell me how harmless they are Zuk! Their words kill just as efficiently as a phaser! I'd rather shower in the reactor core then talk to one of their kind again!"
Mike didn't wait for his friend to respond, he turned and made his way towards the exit.
"Mike, buddy! Your drink!" Leo called out as the helmsman stormed past the bar.
"Recycle it!" Mike said. He headed though the doors without looking back. 'Reporters! God damn reporters!"
**** ****
Lieutenant jg Mike Pailaka
Helmsman, USS Galaxy
AKA
David Friedland
ICQ# 5805168
"Cat and Mouse."
By Commander N'Var
Commanding officer, Imperial Romulan Warbird Maximus
The Romulan commander continued to watch the Barolian freighter as it nudged over in to Romulan-controlled space. The vessel itself did not appear to be in any great hurry, but the fact that it was passing through those systems along the border where it had never done so before, was enough to catch his interest. As such, the mighty cloaked warbird shadowed the freighter carefully, matching not only its speed, but also its heading.
To one side of the warbird's bridge was a Romulan sub-commander who served as N'Var's executive officer, Alidar. They had served together in many battles - including the Dominion War with the Federation and their long-time enemies the Klingons - so he was one of the few men he would trust with his life. The Romulan sub-commander had been speaking privately with the ship's science officer who was scanning the border systems for signs of ships. It was nothing glorious, but unlike the Klingons, they were not out for honor, just out to protect their beloved Empire from their enemies.
"What do we know of this freighter," the commanding officer of the Warbird Maximus said, turning to his friend and colleague.
Alidar, still standing at the science console, responded by turning to Commander N'Var. "A Barolian freighter, sir. Our records indicate it to be the M'Ran, registered out of the Barolia System. No prior incidents."
Instead of maintaining his focus on the main viewscreen - which displayed a visual of the M'Ran - this time N'Var swiveled his chair towards Alidar and the science officer. "Armaments? Shields?"
The sub-commander looked back at the console as the science officer called up a multiphasic scan of the trading vessel. Changing the view several times, he pointed to the readings from the sensors, presumably the weapons array and defensive systems. "Standard shields," the executive replied, shaking his head dismissively, "nothing out disrupters couldn't handle. And lasers."
A grin formed on the commander's face. "Lasers?" he mused.
Sub-commander Alidar joined his commanding officer beside the command chair. Looking at the viewscreen, he folded his arms. "After all, sir, they are Barolians," he said matter-of-factly. This comment itself was said as though that explained why the trading vessel had sub-standard capabilities. It demonstrated the Empire's attitude to their trading partners.
Commander N'Var leaned back in his command chair in the center of the bridge and considered the situation. Finally he looked to the young Romulan woman seated at the helm controls in front of him. "What's their heading?"
The warbird's helm officer tapped away at her console a few times before turning around to report her calculations. "They are on a precise heading towards Romulus."
"Romulus. Now that is interesting," the Romulan commander remarked. "Has there been a change in their speed?"
"No, sir. They are maintaining a constant speed of warp three. It is consistent with the Barolian Trade Route."
Standing up, N'Var straightened his metal-colored duty uniform and adjusted the black belt and harness. Stepping down the little ramp between his command chair and front of the bridge, he joined his helm officer and confirm her navigational readings. Convinced with the benign nature of the trading vessel he looked back to the main viewscreen.
"Let them go," the commander said as he returned to the command chair. "Helm, resume our patrol route."
"Yes, sir," the young Romulan woman responded as she prepared to change the course of the large, cloaked vessel.
The security officer located to the right of the command chair furrowed his brow as far as his Romulan face would allow. Rechecking the sensor scans, he look up from his console. "Excuse me, Commander."
N'Var stopped and turned to look towards the security station. "What is it, Centurion?"
"I'm detecting four Romulans lifesigns on the freighter."
"Romulans on board a Barolian trading ship," Alidar remarked, moving to join Commander N'Var at the security station. "Here? Along the border systems?"
"Yes, sirs," he said, addressing both ranking officers. "Located towards the aft section of the ship."
The Romulan commander gazed back at the main viewscreen. It was obvious from N'Var's face that he did not approve of Romulans traveling on board a Barolian trading vessel. "Bring us in nice and close," he ordered. "Then de-cloak and hail them."
Commander N'Var returned to his seat. Leaning forward a little, with his hands propped up on the armrests, he was ready to use a little intimidation to get some answers.
"Channel open, Commander," Sub-commander Alidar announced as he took another console and opened the channel himself.
"Barolian freighter M'Ran," the warbird commander said, addressing them, "this is Commander N'Var of the Romulan Star Empire. Respond."
The main viewscreen changed from an external view of the freighter, M'Ran, to an internal view of their bridge. The Barolian captain now displayed on their viewscreen looked a little nervous, but it was to be expected. After all, the Maximus was considerably larger and more powerful - more than capable of reducing his ship to fine space debris in a few shots.
["This ... this ..."] the Barolian began, stuttering, ["I mean ... I am Captain Daman, master of the Freighter M'Ran. How may we help you ... sir."]
"Our sensor scan tell us that you are carrying four Romulan citizens on board. This is most intriguing to us." N'Var commented. "I would be interested to hear your explanation for this?"
["They were ..."] Daman began, realizing that he was speaking about his Romulan passengers in the past tense, ["are, should I say, survivors of a smaller vessel that crashed. They ... they were brought to our home world by a Federation starship. We agreed to transport them back home."]
"A Federation starship?" the Romulan commander mused. "Most intriguing."
Alidar moved from the console where he opened the channel and joined his commander. "Sir," the executive officer said under his breath, "Would it be not more fitting for citizens of the Empire to travel with us, in a style more suited to their own, instead of this filthy worm. Who knows what he has crawling in the sub-levels of that garbage heap."
"Well said, Alidar."
["Forgive me ... I was just following ..."]
Captain," N'Var said, returning his attention to the cowering Barolian and cutting him off before he could finish his sentence, "you will arrange for your passengers to transport to the Maximus immediately."
["Yes ... yes ... of course. Consider it done,"] Daman said, hoping to wash his hands of the four Romulan passengers and the warbird now off their port bow. ["We will transmit co-ordinates as soon as they are ready to beam over."]
"Very well," the Romulan warbird commander responded. "N'Var out."
As the communications channel closed the main viewscreen returned to an external visual the freighter, M'Ran - the Barolian vessel now hanging alongside the Romulan warbird at full stop.
"Arrange quarters for our guests," N'Var said as he leaned back in his chair.
“Pasta and...Hey! Is Rebecca make XO?”
by
Ensign Maggie Osborn, Security
AND
Ensign Victor Azaria, also in Security
Unauthorized mention of von Ernst as well as Brhode and his ATTENTION! Should we make a video with "The greatest Brhode moments in history"?
(Ensign Osborn’s quarters. And no, nothing happened!)
"ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
The words hit Maggie like a sledgehammer in the head. She looked up, staring at Victor who almost dropped the plate with pasta on the deck. “Von Ernst? Jumping from Lieutenant to Full Commander without taking the Lt. Commander?” she said aloud, surprised and a bit shocked.
Victor smiled and put the plate in front of her. “Well, she will make a fine XO,” he said and sat down.
“Do you believe that?” Maggie asked, taking a fork full of spaghetti.
His smile faded and he got a slightly worried look on his face. “I have to believe that, or else I am going to freak out”
Osborn chuckled. “Good pasta, where did you learn to cook?” she asked, changing the subject to something easier than the most jumpy officer on the ship had become XO.
Azaria smiled to her. “My uncle taught me when I spent a summer with him when I was a teenager. He was single,” he said and the smile became a grin. But deep inside he felt uneasy towards the thought of a new XO. It wasn’t that he minded at all...He was sure that von Ernst would do a good job...but an XO usually also took care about the problems around the crew. Not only second in command but also a diplomat that sorted out the problems that came between a captain and the crew. And none of the mentioned, Brhode or von Ernst, sounded or acted like diplomat. Brhode expected too much and Rebecca seemed too scared. He took a breath, forcing the thoughts from his mind. He was walking dangerous with his thoughts.
Osborn did not notice that Victor was in another world. She was busy trying to eat as much of the great food as she could. But she looked up and saw that small frown between his eyes. “Hey. Galaxy to Azaria”
Victor looked at her and smiled. “What?”
“You seemed to be far away,” she said and sipped the glass of water
He shrugged and took some bread. “I was just thinking....”
“No! Really?” She said in mock surprise.
“Very funny, Maggie. Do you want to get in a fight with me?” he asked with a small smile.
She eyed him. “You’d never win”
“Still, would you?” he asked, looking at her with a small unsure smile.
She didn’t reply on that. His words had hit something deep inside her. She continued to eat in silence.
"Confessions"
by
Alia
Shinta
Shinta let Alia into her quarters. It was one of the few times that Shinta had them to herself, and Alia was both happy and surprised when Shinta had asked her to come over for a quiet drink at that time when she could have taken the time out for herself.
"What would you like to drink? " Shinta asked. Maybe with her friend here, she could think of pleasant things for awhile.
"Thank you. I'll have whatever you're having." she answered with a warm smile.
"Will tea be all right? I found out that I have developed a liking for that drink."
"That'll be fine, thank you." Alia settled down on the sofa and was quickly joined by Shinta with the drinks. Alia held her glass up to Shinta slightly before taking a drink. It was only then that Alia managed to look at Shinta properly, she looked almost drained, and her hole body was rather tense, it was barely perceptible, but Alia just managed to catch it as Shinta moved to take a drink. "Is everything okay, Shinta?" Alia asked gently with a small smile.
"I am fine." She did not want to bother any body with her problems. So she must find a way to move the conversation away from this dangerous ground. "I heard from Eric, that you and he are seeing each other. Anything serious?" She did not notice that her hand was trembling while she lifted the cup.
"Have you now? Well, that's news to me. No nothing serious, at least I don't think so. I don't know, it's all so confusing." Alia's eyes drifted down to Shinta's shaking hands. Alia couldn't help it, she reached out and gently took the cup from Shinta's hand and put it on the table. She then carefully took hold of Shinta's hands and held them in an attempt to try and still the tremor. "You can talk to me you know, Shinta. It will never go any further if that's what you're worried about - I would never do that to you, or anyone else for that matter."
"I ... I don't want to burden you with this. I don't want to burden any body with it. I don't want to tell Bruce or Gavin. it has to do with my past, it is catching up with me." Then she saw the genuine concern in her friends eyes, and it just became too much. Shinta broke down crying. "I am sorry."
"Hey now, there's nothing to be sorry about." Alia said with a smile as she wrapped an arm around her. "It's not a burden at all, and if you don't feel you can talk to Bruce about it, please talk to me. I would like to help however I can. I've been told I'm a good listener." Alia chuckled softly.
She laughed through her tears, "that is my line. I'm just so scared that if I tell you, he will hurt you to. And I don't want that, you have problems enough of your own. I should have none my place, I should have stayed a chief in security. How could I ever have thought that I could be an officer." She broke down again.
"Because you know you're more than capable of it." Alia gave her a smile whilst pulling her a little closer. "Now, why don't you tell me who this 'he' is, please don't worry, I'm more than capable of looking after myself." Alia really was concerned for Shinta now, she was scared of someone, she only hoped that she would be able to help with that.
For a moment more she hesitated, and then it came tumbling out, the story how she had met jake, and how he had used her, discarded her and now on occasion threatened her. "you know how Bruce can be. I am afraid to tell him, I'm afraid that he would go up against Jake, and he could never win. Commander Thomas offered to help, he thinks I have a case, and I am even scared of that. I really do not know what to do." She snugled closer to her friend.
Alia stroked Shinta's hair in what she hoped was a soothing manner. She was still struggling with trying to take in what Shinta had told her. Why was there so many people in the universe who were content with only their own advancement? Who didn't care who they hurt on the way. And even worse were the ones who didn't even have enough courage to face what they had done, and instead with a wave of a hand had no qualms about knocking others over - not thinking twice about the hurt caused. Oh dear God, didn't she just know how that felt.
A world a stage? No. It was an arena, and only the most brutal gladiator seemed to ever come out victorious.
"I am so sorry, Shinta. You didn't deserve any of that. I can see your dilemma." Alia was silent for a moment before giving a soft chuckle and said with a playful voice in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere a little, "Forgot Bruce, if I ever meet the bastard he's a dead man."
She did not get the response she expected. Because Shintas face lit up with fear. "Don't say that, don't even say that as a joke. If I wanted him dead I could have done so myself. He is no match for me. But he has influence, his family, officers he knows. My hands are tired. He would use Gavin against me, he doesn't give a damn about the child, his own flesh and blood. The man is a monster, and I am never going to get rid of him. But I'm not going to give up, I am going to fight." The fire was back in her eyes. Yet she still stayed close to alia.
Damn it, Alia, when are you going to learn some damned sensitivity... "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, it was just a joke - a stupid one as I see now. I'm new to all of this. It's just made me so angry to think that he believes he can get away with that." She pulled her friend a little closer and noted that look in her eyes with pride, "but I don't believe he will. We won't let him."
"so you promise not to go after him? And you promise not to tell Bruce?" Shinta asked again getting most of her composure back now.
Alia found her eyes, "I promise, Shinta. I would never presume to do so." She assured with a firm voice.
"Thank you. Thank you for just being here."
"Façade"
by Lieutenant Commander James Mitchell
Chief Science Officer
His heart beat hard as he moved through the corridors of the ship, its halls elongating as crew passed him, their voices drawn out and muffled as they greeted him in passing. The gravity of the situation sank into him.
He was the ships Chief Science Officer once again. This made hm both excited and fearful, but thankfully he was being eased into the position without worries of losing lives during this nondescript mission. The less stres, the better.
He stepped into a lift with a pair of ensigns who were obviously going off duty, as they were chattering about something he cared nothing for, as he was lost in his own world. He simply nodded, and mumbled something obviously charming, as the two women laughed and eyed him mischievously.
The doors opened, announcing the deck he'd asked for on boarding the lift with the ladies, and with a wink and a smile, he bid the women goodbye and left for Stellar Cartography, where he could better map the progress of the shuttle teams within the nebula.
Stellar Cartography was an architect's masterpiece. He'd never been able to get down here on his previous tour of the Galaxy, but since the advent of his return, nothing shocked him anymore, save the surprises his counselor cooked up for him during his sessions.
Ensign Takahashi was on duty today, and she had things well in hand. Telemetry was flowing in over the upper quadrant of the main display that enveloped a whole wall of the room, the nebula in all its glory awash with colour presented there. The door slid shut behind him, startling the young ensign who had been deep in thought, who spun around at the sound.
"Oh! Good day, 'Commander! You startled me!" Her hand had flown to her chest as she had jumped at the sound. "We almost never get visitors here, sir."
James forgot about his own troubles as he was lost in the beauty of the nebula. It's clouds curled in a frozen moment, disturbed only by the brightly flashing beacons of the shuttles as they moved into the edges of the wonder, data scrolling as the information arrived.
"Understandable, Ensign. Why come to a lab, when you can use the observatories?" He took a moment to look her way as he came to a stop beside her. "I think only us Science-types can appreciate the beauty of how information enhances the decadence of what we see here."
"Aye, sir." She keyed a control and the nebula came more into focus, where the data that was arriving from the shuttles refreshed the image of the cloud, giving it more depth as the paths the shuttles were taking mapped it.
"How far along are we in the mapping phase, Asako?" His use of her first name caused her to blush a bit, but it couldn't be noticed in the darkened room.
"Let me show you, sir." She shifted the initial image to take up residence in the upper left-hand corner of the screen, and re-imaged the mapped sections of the nebula to represent the three-dimensional image of the shuttles on their track.
"May I ask what happened to Commander Peterson, sir?" She set the refresh rate to automate the resolution feed.
"He, Captain Price, Commanders Dallas and Elaithin were transferred to destination unknown. Some shroud of secrecy over that, and nothing has been said since." He shrugged, not knowing any more.
"Is it true what I hear about our new Captain?" Asako had asked this somewhat timidly and hushed, as if fearing the walls had ears.
"What is it you hear about our Captain, Ensign?" He didn't respond in kind, as he wasn't into the gossip mill. At least, while he was on duty, anyways. Plus, he had to put up a show that he didn't tolerate gossiping on the job, even though he was just as curious about the man since he hadn't met him yet.
Takahashi got the hint. "I hear that he was raised by Klingons, and has a pet Targ that he keeps on the bridge with him to keep officers in line." She was on a roll, and kept going in excitement. "That he eats officers for breakfast and is kicking them off the ship for so much as showing up for shift duty with so much as a hair out of place. That he never sleeps and was a prisoner on Romulus for several years, as well as been genuinely...." Whispers. "Unbalanced, sir."
"That rumour mill has certainly gotten around, Ensign. He hasn't kicked anyone off the ship, and I don't think he is kicking anyone off the ship. I can safely say he is likely not any of those things, especially the Targ bit, as that is against Starfleet regulations." He smiled wanly at the cartographer. "Lets just keep this between ourselves, Asako, but remember, it's all talk."
"Aye, sir." She turned away from the 'Commander and set up the next resolution scan of the nebula cloud. A slight rumble could be felt below them, a vibration that only a veteran of starflight would feel.
"We're moving." He took up position on a console aligning Asako's and his fingers played out across it in lightning speed, his line of thought on two answers. Why the ship was leaving its stationary position, and where it was going. The Galaxy appeared on the image in front of them, a tiny speck imposed on the nebula cloud, as it pulled out of its corner to replace the three-dimensional map. A line imaged straight around the right-most edge of the nebula, and around, as the trajectory took it away from the radiation of the cloud, but kept it close to the perimeter as it looped around to another destination.
"Nobody informed me of the move. This is going to throw off our calculations!" He pondered the events taking place in front of him. The navigational line took the ship away from the shuttles, yet close to the nebula rim, so the destination wasn't far, but it still bothered him that he wasn't notified. His hand reached for his badge to call the bridge when the commsystem came alive.
[ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out.]
Asako looked to him in shock, as the idea of a staple that had been part of the Galaxy for so long had been removed for whatever reason sunk in.
"I take that back about the officer removal part, Ensign." Now James was really spooked at this new Captain. If the First Officer can be replaced, anyone can. It sure set the tone for the future of the Galaxy under Brhode's command.
And if that wasn't enough......
[Security to 'Commander Mitchell. Three of Four would like to see you in the Cargo Bay as soon as you are able.]
He sighed. Yes, indeed. It was going to be a stressful mission after all.
"On my way. Mitchell out."
*****
"Façade"
by Lieutenant Commander James Mitchell
Chief Science Officer
"1645 hours." The computer chimed at an odd interval for Seth. Usually he didn't start his shift until one in the morning.
"I did not set an alarm for this time." The gorn complained and rolled over on his rock. "Delete setting and reset to midnight."
The heat of the room reflected off the rock for a second and then the gorn sat bolt upright. He had just remembered the new duty roster sent out by Thomas.
Bolting from the room the gorn slumped to gain speed and avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. He only had 15 minutes to make it to the bridge. From deck 33 he would never make it.
The aft lift seemed to stop every five decks until it reached deck 10 twelve minutes later. Seth had to run all the way across the ship to get to the fore lift that would take him up the neck of the ship and on to the bridge.
He made it with 30 seconds to spare but had to wait for the lift to come down. Then the forward lift had to stop every three decks for other officers. This made the gorn late for his shift.
It was a first for Seth to be the last one to arrive. He never really took shifts on the bridge before. Usually he was guarding the bowels of the ship. He had only been on the bridge a handful of times and didn't feel he fit in.
When the turbo lift door finally deposited Seth in the command center he made no effort to conceal his tartiness. Infact the lizard walked right up to the command chair. "Lieutenant Junior grade Seth Zonhieb reporting for duty late sir."
The new captain looked at the dark green scales that had flakes of white, of course he commented on the first thing he also noticed. "You're out of uniform Lieutenant."
"Yes sir." Seth held his stance in starfleet fashion. "I have permission from my superior officer."
"Take your station and try to stay out of my sight." Brhode ordered.
The gorn didn't argue he just took up a station at the back where he could monitor the turbolift.
"An Early Show, Part One"
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy
aka
Jarol
Tal'Shiar Officer
*** Barolian freighter M'Ran, heading for Romulan space ***
Karyn didn't trust herself to speak a syllable of Federation Standard once they had been tranferred to the Bolian freighter, and given their proximity to their first real "mark" in this whole thing, the others seemed to feel the same way.
It reminded her of her Romulan language classes at the Academy, a hearty group of twenty individuals who had taken the class because it was a skill they thought they would never have to actually use. Truthfully, Karyn had taken the class at eighteen because it sounded like an interesting challenge and because it allowed her to vent her anger in a safe and appropriate manner, without the pain sticks employed in the Klingon class.
She also liked it because unlike some instructors of Advanced Language, hers believed in total immersion, a situation that was both terrifying and thrilling. From the moment one entered the room, one was only permitted to speak Romulan. Any infraction of this rule resulted in expulsion from that day's class and a tedious assignment involving copying some obscure Romulan text and being treated like a third grader.
It was one of very few classes Karyn had come to master over her classmates. In a strange way, she felt she owed a lot of who she was to Romulan culture. Her classes forced her to develop the kind of assertiveness that had only helped her to become the polished cadet that demanded to be noticed and treated fairly. When she spoke, it was not as Karyn, the girl in the grav-chair, but Karyn, the equal. Who knew it was to be a skill of this much import to anyone else? The realization was enough to make her want to go weak in the knees, but she pushed the thought away, realizing just how un-Romulan it would be.
Unfortunately, she didn't know whether she wanted to kiss or kill her old instructor. Since no one expected the Starfleet Officers to speak Romulan while posing as a Romulan, there was not a great emphasis on the kind of tone or non-verbal behavior typically used by members of that race. Confidence was a requirement, yes, but not the paranoia or hard edge exhibited by the natives they were posing as now.
The result was a rather amusing assortment of displays, most of the time conjured from images of how one thought a Romulan might behave, and because much of that was based on how confident one was speaking the language, many honorable members of the Star Empire came across as stuttering five year olds.
Karyn's biggest concern was her ability to maintain what she considered to be her Romulan presence. As an actress during her time at the Academy, she'd been able to take on any number of roles that drew from her own experiences, but her time onboard the Galaxy was so far removed from the condescending and suspicious nature of the Romulan people that it was difficult to capture the persona that had come so natural to her as a rebellious teen.
Closing her eyes, she forced the doubts away. She had to stop viewing Jarol as a mask she could take on and off. Karyn had to be Jarol, think what she thought, breathe the way she breathed and speak the way she spoke. Jarol wasn't "someone else," she was Jarol.
As far as she was concerned, Karyn Dallas had to die so that Jarol could be reborn. It was the only way. Digging deep, she tried once more to tap into the emotions she would need to sustain her. It was strange for her because so often she had to hold her own emotions in check to objectively view those of others.
A member of the Tal'Shiar, Jarol was a woman who answered to no one and had naturally come to place her own importance over that of others. Constantly reminded of what could happen if one was too careless, she most likely would overcompensate, taking traditional Tal'Shiar suspicion to a whole new level, suspecting traitors around every corner prepared to stab her in the back. For all Karyn knew of the real Jarol, there probably had been.
She let her mind wander, flitting at first to the taunts she'd endured at the mercy of her father and then later at the Academy. She felt her body begin to stiffen and her eyes begin to harden in a contemptous glare. She was in control, and everyone else would remain at arm's length just so they would be sure of that. She let herself drown in the anger until she wore it like a cloak, settling somewhere right now around mild annoyance.
Hearing footsteps, she looked herself over once more and smiled what she considered to be an almost predatorial sneer. Taking one last moment to bolster her mood with the anger at being taken away from her ship, irony that was not lost on either personality, Jarol squared her shoulders and turned toward the sound.
It was showtime, ready or not.
****
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy
"Did you hear what I heard?"
Lt j/g Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley, Acting Asst. Tactical Chief
(NPC)Lt j/g Alexa Zarides, Tactical Officer (NPC) PO1 Tim "terror" Mirapoints, Senior Phaser Diagnostic Technician Unauthorized but minor use of Captain Bhrode and LtCMDR Eric Odin
*********************************************************************
(Battle Bridge)
Lysander stared at 'Lexa, who stared right back at him, with the same panic-filled expression on her face.
The ramifications of WHY Rebecca would get called into the Ready Room just dawned on them.
She was fired.
Dead meat on a stick.
"Do you think she puked on him?" asked Alexa, who liked Rebecca while disliking actually working for her.
"No...probally the schedule change thing...I forgot to have her endorse it and Bhrode probally found out...he's going to courtmartial her and me..." Lysander fretted.
"She never put my promotion through...I'm still an Ensign in the database..." began Alexa, warming up to her favourite complaint about Rebecca.
"They'll brevet you to at least Lieutenant..." added a worried Lysander.
"What about you and Lockhart?" asked 'Lexa.
"If they courtmartial the Smeggin' Princess, then my tailpipes will be right after hers. And Lockhart..." He stopped to share a grin with Zarides at the thought of Lockhart being offered the Department Chair position.
"Smeg...poor Rebecca." said Lysander, with an uncharecteristic concern for someone else besides himself. Zariides frowned at her co-worker. This was new...Lysander actually worrying about someone else...especially Rebecca.
"What's this "Poor Rebecca" crud? Weren't you saying just five minutes ago how you hated her for screwing up the phaser repple-depple and forcing you to..."
"No. Well...yes I said it.. but the problem's not hers..it's..oh SMEG!"
"what?"
"We just went through that Red Alert with one half of the primary Phaser array offline."
"Yeah? so?"
"Probally what they're courtmartialing her for...gross negligence..."
"Lysander, you and the Chief took those phasers offline...do you think the Captain didn't notice?"
"No..but the Princess probally puked all over the..."
Lysander was interrupted by one of Bhrode's terse shipwide announcements. "ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
Alexa beat Lysander to her combadge.
"Zarides to VonErnst."
["Uhh..V...v..vonErnst here."]
"Congratulations Ma'm. May I ask who was ever appointed Assistant, and who's taking over the Tactical Department?" ALexa was gunning for her promotion to have been finally acknowledged and she be given the Chair. After all, she was the sanest Tac Officer aboard. She eyed Lysander, who was racking his brain trying to figure out who he could have been enroute to signal...
"Battlebridge Tactical to Engineering."
[Engineering, Commander Odin, duty watch officer.]
"Lieutenant Hawksley here. We've isolated the ventral Phaser array problem to an ODN glitch. I'm logging request for a Level Two diagnostic of all Main Bridge..."
[Whoah there. You can't request that. Only a Department Chief or higher can request a Level Two...]
"Hold on Commander..." Lysander turned back to Zarides, who was trying to brownnose Rebecca furiously.
"...And therefore Commander, I feel that this Officer is the only logical choice for the vacant position of..." the pretty Bajorean was almost spitting out the words.
[uhhhhhhhh.....yeah...right...I hear you....umm... Maybe you should talk to the Captain Ensign....]
"Hey Ell-Tee..errrrr...Commander? COngrats and all the rot, by the way. If I can distract you from teh champagne wishes and cavair dreams a moment, I need the First Officer to authorize a Level Two or One DIagnostic for the ODN relays shuts to the Main Bridge. I've tracked the phaser problem to the Main Core-Main Bridge relays. Apparently some stray code from our 'hacker' is upsetting the LCARS terminals...and only there. Everything else clears a Level Three."
[uhh...okay...Lieutenant, why don't you...]
Another voice cut into the circuit. A voice no one really wanted to hear.
[[Captain here. Lieutenant, you come to my Ready Room on the double. Bring the Commander and Chief with you. Miss Von Ernst, when they arrive, you will escort them to my Ready Room. Bhrodre out.]]
Lysander sighed. It had seemed such a GOOD day starting out.
"You catch that Commander Odin?"
[Unfortunately. Thanks a lot pal. See you up there. Odin out.]
Lysander sighed again and looked at Zarides, who was positively gloating.
"Ohhh...Lysander... you did it now...." she began.
"All in a day's work." began Lysander as he trudged off to the Turbolift car.
Smeggin Princess...this was ALL her fault!
"Always look on the bright side of life ..."
by Lt. Cmdr. Ragnald Gustavson, chief helmsman
For about half of an hour, the Galaxy was back to the fog now. Again, the main screen was filled with static and the instruments - tactical and long range scanners didn't display anything but a vast amount of radiation.
After he had seen the freighter's debris few minutes ago Ragnald's attitude towards the mist, the Galaxy stuck in changed. Donar's sake, the Mako Reli Nebula was that big, dozen of warbirds, battlecruisers, Orion pirate vessels or even Borg cubes could have been hiding inside the nebula without anybody being able to detect them. Ragnald felt uneasy. Things couldn't become worse.
[By order of BuPers, as of Stardate 50112.23 Rebecca von Ernst Serial Number SFA741072 is hereby ordered to assume the Duties of FIRST OFFICER aboard the United Starship Galaxy NCC-70637 with all the rights and responsibilities thereof]
Von Ernst XO? Did he really hear Von Ernst? The read haired helmsman looked around only to see signs of panic in his crew mates eyes. So he really didn't get it wrong, von Ernst really became the new XO. Ragnald banged his head to his panel. Did he dare to think things couldn't become worse?
He now long enough shared shift with von Ernst to know her a little. She wasn't really incompetent to fill the position of a XO. No, incompetent was the wrong word. He heard about that girl doing a battle against several Jem Hadar fighters - Donar's sake he even read through the overwhelming simulation protocol log of that event. And he remembered her navigating the vessel the good old Viking manner - just by triangulating stars and calculating the flight vector in her tiny but genius red hair covered head. Maybe she had Viking ancestors, too?
He would trust her to blindly command the Galaxy. But what if somebody removes that blindfold? Nevertheless she now stood in the first row to become the next dragon food to 'Captain Jarhead' and he was just the helmsman. He decided to have an eye on her. You know CO and XO rule the vessel, but it's the helmsman who shows the vessel the right direction and makes them look good.
Ragnald sat back in his chair, relaxed and whistled
"Always look on the bright side of life ..."
"Theoretically Possible But Realistically Improbable" OR "Shopping for a Man in Two Hours"
By Lieutenant Electra Reece
Chief Operations Officer
Deck 15 of the saucer section saw a statuesque figure moving rapidly along the corridors at 1800 hours. It was Electra Reece, fresh from her duty shift on the bridge, trying to get to the replimat. She was scheduled to have dinner with James Corgan at 2000 hours and she was feeling guilty. He had given her a beautiful jewelry set for Christmas and she had not had a chance to get him anything as yet.
The new captain's love of paperwork, his new shift rotation, her new job as Chief of Operations, her relationship with her assistant chief and her restless nightmare-filled nights were conspiring to keep her overly occupied. She only had two hours to get a present, wrap it, and get herself ready for her dinner. Theoretically it was possible. The problem: having no idea what to get as a present for the man she loved.
Men have it easy. Jewelry (like the set James gifted Lexa with) was always a good gift and showed caring to the woman in a man's life. Women had to find a personalized gift that reflected the tastes and personality of the man they were shopping for. And Lexa didn't know what to get him. She could always be safe and get a tie pin or cuff links. Except for the fact that the only time she saw him wear a tie was when he took her to the opera and wore a tuxedo.
It was an impossible task. She stood in front of the replimat screen as the minutes slowly trickled by, scrolling through gifts of albums and music scores. But what she liked, she didn't think he would and having no desire to get him something that he would hate, she hesitated to chose an album. As for the musical scores, Lexa felt that such a gift would give James more work as he struggled to learn it so that he could play it for her. He wouldn't want to just put it away until a better time because he would worry, she felt, that she was offended by that.
Glancing at the chronometer, Lexa discovered she had been scrolling through various items for over an hour. Releasing a pent up breath, the woman moved away from the screen and headed into the corridors towards the turbolift, her mission unsuccessful.
The trip to her quarters was relatively swift and her thoughts no less jumbled when she arrived. As she brushed out her waist length black hair, her eyes closed. The brush pulled slowly through the tangles and the repetitive motion soothed her mind. Her eyes popped open. She smiled. Walking over to her personal replicator and pressing some buttons, the shimmering form appeared on the pad. Taking the wrapped package in hand she placed it in the center of the dining table and put on her new jewelry.
The tension of the day had left her and she was ready to face her man when he arrived.
"Supporting Destiny?"
By Lieutenant Electra Reece
Chief Operations Officer
With excerpts from "Unavoidable Destiny" and "Destiny takes strange forms"
Rebecca von Ernst stood at the ready room door for a moment before spinning to face the bridge. Lexa grinned as the petite redhead's eyes darted around the assembled officers in dismay. "Uh ... Lexa ... I mean Lieutenant Reece," Rebecca awkwardly looked for the correct words while the chief of operations looked at her encouragingly, "You uh ... you ... uh..." Rebecca nodded towards the chair in the center of the bridge. "You..."
Electra smiled more broadly and nodded, deciding to put her out of her misery, now that she understood the directive. "Aye Ma'am. I have the Bridge." As she rose from her place she gave the flustered younger girl an encouraging wink. As Rebecca hurried into the captain's presence the tall form of Lieutenant Reece walked to the center chair, the control center for the ship, the captain's chair. She sat back and watched the displays on the arm rest viewers as James Corgan slid into the OPS chair in front of the viewscreen with a quick grin for the woman he loved.
Monitoring the flow and ebb of the entire ship from this location was something that the tall officer rarely got to do. However, she knew that with her promotion to head of Operations, she would have the opportunity much more often now. She brought up the new duty roster and it flickered once as the text changed before her eyes. She could have sworn that it had said Rebecca's name on Beta for command duty followed by her own but now Rebecca's was gone and Ragnald's was in its place. The notes said that on a rotating week-long basis three officers (Ragnald Gustavson, she, and Lysander Van der Puls-Hawksley) who normally served bridge duty on alpha would have the command shift on beta, instead.
A perplexed frown crossed Lexa's face. She didn't understand why the schedule had changed. And why was Lysander listed on it as Chief Tactical Officer? Had Brhode found out how unready for any type of command Rebecca was? Lexa worried about the woman, her first friend on board the huge ship. Was she being transferred? Demoted? Shot out of a torpedo tube? What was goin --
Her thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt announcement by the captain. "ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
Lexa sat in shock as she saw the rest of the bridge crew was also doing. The doors to the Ready Room swished open and Rebecca leaned weakly against the closed doors. She was staring apprehensively at the officers that stared back at her in mutual shock. Counselor O'Grady rose from his seat next to Lexa and extended his hand to the redhead. "Congratulations commander, if you need to talk or anything, please don't hesitate to stop by." They shook hands and he turned away and walked back to his seat.
Electra rose on somewhat unsteady legs and met Rebecca's eyes. She tried to convey her friendship and support as her head gestured to the center seat, urging von Ernst to take it. She smiled, trying desperately to hide her misgivings as she took over the OPS station from James.
As she sat down, she typed a quick note to the new first officer, eyes only. It read: "Good luck, Rebecca. If you need anything, PLEASE, let me know. You have my support and friendship. Don't despair. I have faith in you."
As the message made its way through the ship to its recipient, Lexa tried to decide if the last statement had been the truth or if she was lying through her virtual teeth. No decision was reached.
"Explanation Time."
by
Lt.Cmdr. Eric Odin
Lt.jg. Alia Drakely
The problem with a ship, is that it is full of people, Alia thought to herself as she clenched her jaw against the fifth man who winked at her in the corridor. One man had actually crept up on her and swept her off of her feet and asked whether she would prefer her quarters or his.
She pressed the chime and waited not too patiently for a reply.
Eric had been recovering from the chew out he had received from Sanchez which had made him feel like a huge piece of trash. He hadn't intended to do it and when his chime rang he could only have one guess as to who it was. he simply said, "come on in." he prepared himself for another verbal beating as best as he could.
Alia strolled into the room and looked at him for a moment. She folded her arms, and without taking her eyes off of him, she moved over to the wall and leant casually against it. "Well?" She prompted with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, what? I'm really sorry okay. Sanchez made me feel like dirt and I'm sure you had something to do with that. What do you want to know?" he said tiredly, and it was evident by his pulsing temples he had come down with a very bad headache.
"I don't want an apology." Alia said softly, never moving from her spot by the wall, "I want an explanation. But first, perhaps I should explain something to you. It wasn't so much what you did, but the fact that you didn't think about the possible repercussions of it. Today, I have been propositioned by no less than 15 men. Three have slapped my behind, and another swept me off my feet and marched me down the corridor towards his quarters."
"I said we were going out, which isn't true. I said nothing more than that right there. I apologize profusely for saying that lie." He reddened a bit and said, "maybe it was my desire to go out with you that did that, but I only said that. I'll personally hunt down every man if you want me to and hit them if that will right me with you."
Alia sighed, "Eric, there are some things in this life that I cannot tolerate, and one of them is being treated like trading goods. Can you understand that in any way, shape or form?" she asked gently.
"Yes, I can and believe me it was never my intention for a rumour to be started. I really apolgize for any pain or discomfort I've caused. I will seriously go through and beat up everyone if you want, so we can be friends." He just about kicked himself knowing she'd just about smack him for wanting to be friends after what he did.
She chuckled and moved over to him, crouching down in front of him and tapped him on the leg, "You look like you could do with a drink." She sprang back up and strode over to the door, "You coming then?" She asked with a smile.
He smiled and said, "Sure and you're right." He got up and followed and said,"I really am sorry." his head was pounding and he only hoped the drink would help.
She looked at him as they walked towards her quarters, and frowned slightly, "Are you okay? You don't look so good. We could drop by sickbay first if you'd like?" It would be okay, she could just wait outside for him...
"No, I'm not okay. It's Sanchez induced though, hopefully a drink will help. Thanks for the concern though Alia." he smiled weakly as he tried to rub the headache away that was throbbing his temples.
Alia nodded a little uncertainly. She showed him into her quarters and then went into the next room, "Scotch okay with you?" she called to him.
"Sounds great," he said feeling the headache go away a bit already. He hadn't actually had a real drink in quite a long time. He hoped his body could take it and maybe benefit from it a bit.
"Here you go," she handed him his glass, "get that down you - the best healer in the universe that. Careful, it does have a bit of a kick though." She warned with a smile.
He downed it pretty quick and said, "Wow, that really does have some kind of kick." He felt his headache nearly go away though and said, "Thanks that really did help." He smiled and wondered if she had brought him here to kill him secretly and then hide him or to be friends.
"It never fails." She said with a smile, downing her own, "So why did you say that we were seeing each other? I'm not getting at you, I'm just curious." She explained hastily.
He reddened and said. "I think it was my own desire to actually go out with you. I'm really sorry. This is actually kind of embarrassing." He scratched the back of his head and avoided her gaze as it would have only made him redden even more.
She had to stop herself from giggling and told herself to stop being cruel, "First thing's first, Stop apologising. I've forgiven you." She said as she poured them each another measure, "Second, there's no need to be embarrassed, misunderstandings happen from time to time." Alia knew damn well that it hadn't happened quite like that, but for the sake of being good natured about it, it would do. "And thirdly, you are going to get absolutely and positively drunk with me," she smiled, raised her drink to him, and then knocked it back. She looked at him expectantly waiting for him to follow suit.
He took another drink and smiled. He would normally object, but it would be rude to object to such a lovely woman. He looked forward to a drunken night with a new friend.
She poured again, "You see, I'm afraid I cannot get involved with anyone that I can't get drunk with. That would just be a disaster waiting to happen."
He laughed and said, "I'll try not to disappoint then." He laughed as he took another drink. He knew this could get to be a very strange, but very good friendship. At least that was the minimal expectation he had.
Kicking her feet onto the table she leant back into the sofa as she took another drink. Laughing, she turned her head to look at Eric sitting next to her, who was giving her an odd smile, "Sorry, I guess this isn't exactly a great third impression I'm giving you."
He laughed and said, "It's alright. I just wouldn't of thought you would of reacted in such a great way. You're really something, Alia." he smirked as he downed another drink.
"Well...I guess it wasn't your fault." She said with a conceding tone. "And I had the guy who decided to give me a lift to his quarters thrown in the brig." She said with a satisfied smile, "So all's well that ends well I guess."
He smiled and said, "Indeed. Good for you Alia, I guess he's saved from my fist for one day." He laughed feeling his drunkenness overdo it a bit.
"Ah..." she said with a smile, "you'd do that for me? You don't know me very well, why risk it?"
He smirked and said, "I'd do nearly anything to at least have the friendship of someone so beautiful and interesting."
Alia laughed, "I should be careful what you say, Eric, one day, I may remind you of such statements with expectations of you living up to them."
He smiled and said, "I'll expect you to do just that. Thanks for the good drinks. Very good stuff." He said with a smile.
“Galaxy, this is Niagara”
By Ensign Indiana Brisbane
NPC Ops Officer
With authorization from Jill Locke to use her NPC Lieutenant Riana Parstran, Security Officer And unauthorized reference to the Chief of Ops, Electra Reece.
Indiana had no longer stepped into his quarters after a regular shift, his computer beeped. There had being a ship wide call for any available pilots to take part in the shuttle project. He already knew that Heather was piloting the shuttle Michigan, but the message called for the shuttle Niagara. Although he was an ops officer, Indiana had taken shuttle piloting as a subject at the academy. Hence, how he met up with the late Michael Wellington and later Heather. Wasting no time in making up his mind, he contacted his departmental chief to inform her of his intentions.
At first, Reece refused to allow a member of her ever shrinking department to temporarily assign themselves to a sort of an away mission, but after further consideration of his request, she permitted him to proceed. Besides, it would come in handy having an ops officer on one of the shuttles. That way, should Galaxy’s ops team need some extra details about the nebula, they could refer to what ever the shuttles had collated.
Keen to get moving, Indiana responded to the call and anxiously awaited the response. Ten minutes later, he had permission to pilot the second shuttle, even though a second pilot for the shuttle was yet to be found. Grabbing some supplies from his quarters, Indiana headed for the Main Shuttle Bay. Along the way, he passed Riana’s Quarters. Curious to see if she was home, he stop to ring the chime.
Fortunately, Riana was in her quarters after spending some time in the gym. She was surprised to see Indiana at her door and was quick to tell him, that she was only going along with his nasty story the other night. Smiling, Indiana waved her remark aside and asked her if she wanted to join him on the shuttle project as his co-pilot. Raising an eyebrow, Riana enquired as to why Heather was not joining him. “She’s already piloting the first shuttle. This request is for the second shuttle. The crew for the Niagara didn’t show up and the new command crew want it manned immediately.” While continuing to stand in her door way, she carefully considered his offering.
*****Five Minutes After the Launching of Michigan******
Indiana quickly raced through the pre-flight check, in an effort to get under way as quickly as possible. The ruling from upstairs was to stop mucking around and to get a move on, something Indiana took into his stride as he began the launching sequence. “Galaxy, this Niagara. Permission to launch shuttle.” “Permission granted. Good luck Niagara.” Indiana acknowledged and began piloting the vessel out of the shuttle bay, using maneuveuring thrusters. “Hold on tight Riana. We have a seven minute gap to close and quickly.” “I hope you don’t intend to risk our lives this early on in the journey?” “No. Just once we’re clear of the Galaxy warp field, we’re going to full impulse. Don’t worry, this tugs can’t go any higher than Warp 3 and I’m not that crazy a driver.” He assured her, with a smile.
Returning his focus to the controls, Indiana manually navigated the shuttle in a similar direction as the Michigan. Due to the lack of time permitted for pre-flight, Indiana was unable to plot the co-ordinates prior to leaving the Galaxy. Just before increasing speed to impulse, Indiana tapped in their destination as they were spelt out on the PADD one of the shuttle bay operatives gave him when conveying in general what their mission was. At first, both officers sighed at discovering their job was entailed surveying the nebula and deploying the communication buoys, then they realised that this was going to be no ordinary away mission. For starters, Galaxy was under a new command structure that raised eyebrows and as far as they could tell, there was no alien species to contend with nor other hostile situations.
“Sounds like it’s going to be a fairly peaceful mission, unless you and Heather start arguing.” Commented Riana. “Heather doesn’t remember that night at all. She woke up with a complete blank and I intend to keep it that way. You don’t want to see you lose her temper.” “She has a temper?” queried a surprised Riana, who barely knew neither Indiana nor Heather. “That’s probably because she’s able to tame it. The Galaxy crew seem to know very little about Heather. There are some who have seen her depressed side which has surfaced on and off for years, but she mostly shows her professional side. The crew may never see her emotional side while she is on duty, but once she’s out of uniform, Heather is as human as you can get them.” Riana simply nodded her head and decided to refocus on her console.
“Michigan, this Niagara. Can you read me?” called Indiana, working on establishing the Niagara’s comm link with the other shuttle. After some seconds, there was a response. “Niagara. Michigan. Thanks for joining us. Is that you Brisbane?” “Affirmative. It’s a long story I may get around to telling you if things get boring out here. What’s the orders other than surveying and deploying?” “We’re to maintain an open comm link with Galaxy at all times, that way we can monitor the status of each other. Suggestion, report in about once every hour to either me or Galaxy, that way we know you’re still with us. If we both get into trouble or the Galaxy herself gets into strife, we have the Terra Australis back on the Galaxy standing by.” “Understood. I’ll be in line with you in about two minutes.” “Once we’ve reached my destination, you will then proceed five hundred kilometres to your own coordinates. Just remember, any problems call in.” “Aye Aye Lieutenant.”
Indiana then moved on to opening up a link with the Galaxy and waited patiently for the extra time it took for a message to get through, due to the nebula’s radiation. With a link established to both the Galaxy and the Michigan, Indiana suggested for Riana to sit back and enjoy the ride until they arrived on station.
Courtney E. Moran
ICQ#110053000
"The one where she puts one and one together and gets Hoth"
by Kit Jordan, Reporter
**
"Mike, buddy! Your drink!" Leo called out as the helmsman stormed past the bar.
"Recycle it!" Mike said. He headed though the doors without looking back. "Reporters! God damn reporters!"
Jordan watched the man storming out: if it were possible for smoke to be coming out of someone's ears, that man would have it. He was one of those huge, massive, body building types whose neck was probably the size of her waist and whose ego could match hers the night after she won the Pulitzer over Jake Sisko (the little rat) with room to spare.
"Looks like I've got myself another fan, don't you think?" she questioned of the little rat in front of her as the bar tender redirected his attentions.
"Don't mind him," Leo replied, leaning across the bar in that slithering reptilian manner he'd done before the commotion. Jordan couldn't help but glance down and make sure she wasn't wearing one of those shirts that allowed for full access at certain angles. She wasn't, but she supposed that simply the hope and glimpse was enough for some of the testosterone laden.
"Mm…" Jordan smirked as she rested her chin in her hands, her large brown eyes widened and she smirked, lowering her voice to a soft and sultry Lauren Bacall style whisper. "Now… tell me again about ya thar'ies, slowly…" She snaked her finger into her pocket and taped the record button of her voice recorder as her other brushed Leo's thinning hair.
**Dissolve**
She'd managed to discern the funny little man had once been a reporter, and if any of the speculation he was prattling had even an ounce of truth, he would have been a very good one had he been less obtrusive. In between the frequent mentions of "Raven, my good buddy (not in the bosom buddy way, though, you know)" and "Raven, my bestest pal (not in *that* way)", being the chosen one, and saving the universe and all that jazz, his conclusions, which honestly Jordan was not even sure he knew he'd made, were quite plausible.
She sighed deeply as she wandered around the ship. It was really quite large, the largest she'd been on once an Ambassador class ship, and she couldn't even remember the name it was so short a stay; three days she believed, and she was asleep for most of them. Jordan was actually pretty sure the first officer had the CMO drug her, but she couldn't be for certain…
"ATTENTION Galaxy Crew. As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
Jordan frowned, her forehead creasing. She took her small PADD out of her pocket and leaned against the wall of the corridor as she called up Rebecca von Ernst's biographical file. The photographer was one of a slight, itty bitty make Jordan look like an overweight giant, doe eyed red head with a sad drawn mouth and body that looked like the air around it would break it in half.
Jordan felt sorry for her and wondered how she found clothing that fit… She had a bad enough time with it.
"How the hell did the Little Bit manage to get this?" Jordan mussed out loud. "Cadet Cloaking Device? Chil'den ah so cruel."
Then her eyes caught it. She'd almost skimmed over it, but she didn't, and suddenly the appropriately four letter word stuck out in all bold letters, flashing lights, buzzers, and an imaginary ticker tape parade going down the corridor: Hoth. Admiral Jergan Hoth the no good dirty bastard. Well, he would not escape this one, not at all. She would catch him.
She frowned, tapped, and pulled up the file of one Lysander Van Who-za-watzit. He was kind of charming, a dashing almost English gentleman type… not quite her type, but might but a fun mouse to play with for a little while…
But there was something else a lot more fun in his file. Again, the four letter word that sent an exalting chill up her spine. Hoth. She grinned despite herself and couldn't help but laugh out loud. This was exactly what she wanted.
"Lysand'ah…" she whispered to herself. Hum. He would be a whole lot easier to deal with than the timid mouse like girl would. So much easier.
This little rich boy had something coming to him. She knew exactly the type of person he way, hell, she'd grown up with the type; hell, she was, in a broad use of the word, that type. Blue blooded, pampered, having everything they wanted… She smirked as she put the PADD back in her pocket and began back down the corridors toward the turbo lift.
She couldn't help doing an excited little dance as she turned the corners.
Hoth was going to cry by the time she was done with this boat. The power of the press (in the right hands) was nothing to laugh at.
She moved into her quarters, throwing her jacket on the bed and flinging open the closet door, going through her vast collection of clothing. "Computah, open Jah'den music dater base five, obscu'ah musicals of the ea'lee twentieth century, Cradle Will Rock track thi'teen…"
The press, the press,
the freedom of the press,
you'll never take away,
the freedom of the press…
This was going to be fun…
“Dealing with Radiation”
By Autumn Quevvenson, ACMO
Autumn sat at her desk writing up a report on the Radiation affecting certain crew members. They had been moved to a more secure place on the ship. Silently she complieled the report on the moving of people and the dispensing of the medication to those that would be affected adversely by the nebular. She added a detailed report on Med bay’s readiness to combat any problem if the need should arrive and invited the Captain to drop by for an inspection whenever he had the time, in a round about way.
To: Captain Brhode, Lieutenant Commander Dothan.
From: Lieutenant Jg Autumn Quevvenson MD Re: Radiation and Med bay status
Sirs,
All personnel who are prone to suffer from radiation poisoning more so then other crew have been moved and Medication dispensed as per orders. Med bay is fully stocked and all items have been inventoried and catalogued and is at full readiness for anything that may happen in the future. Though it has come to my attention that Med Bay is slowly becoming understaffed, we are keeping up with the demands on our department. Paedatrics is currently running an radiation awareness program for the younger members of the crew. Medical bay is also keeping an eye on those Crew/civilians who are pregnant, in case of any miscarriages caused by exposure to the radiation in the Nebular. The change to the three shift rotation went without any hitches and people have reported to duty as normal, punctual and professionally.
The med bay is running at top efficency and is will pass even the toughest standards.
Dr Quevvenson, Assisitant Chief medical Officer.
“Computer send message” She said softly.
[Acknowledged]
She leant back in her chair and glanced at her chrono. Ten minuets until the end of her shift. And then it was home, pat Summer, talk to her husband and spend some time together and then catch up on some sleep she had been meaning to catch up on.
“Thoughts and Plans”
By Xavier Crawford, Autumn Quevvenson’s half brother
*****Starlings Real estate*******
Xavier sat quietly in his office beside Ross Jamieson’s. He had been trying to get his half-sister’s uncle to hand the company over to him for weeks since Autumn’s wedding. But Ross had refused. The only way would be for him to get the company would be to get rid of the person who stood in h
is way.. his darling sister. He smirked satisfactorily as he began to code a message to the Captain of the galaxy asking if he could visit his very close and adored little sister and spend some time with her. He sent the message and leant back in his chair plotting his next move. His little sister would give him what he wanted or she would be taken care of. He summoned his staff of three and they got to work.
"An Early Show, Part Two"
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy
aka
Jarol
Tal'Shiar Officer
*** Barolian freighter M'Ran, heading for Romulan space ***
It was show time.
"What do you want?" Major Galathon challenged at the door. Inwardly, Karyn had to keep from flinching at hearing the tone of the man she knew to be Kent.
It was not something she was used to hearing from the quiet Science Chief. It was annoying how her brain kept taking in observations like that, but it was reflex, like a tape playing over and over. Jarol continued to fight for control.
She recognized the engineer from earlier carrying what appeared to be a bottle of liquor. Immediately Karyn's mind went into overtime. Was this a bribe? A peace offering? Had they been discovered? In the meantime, the quirky words of one of her psych professors sprang to mind. *Expect the unexpected.* Well, grozit, that was certainly profound, wasn't it?
Jarol focused her steely gaze on the Barolian. She would not be deterred.
"I thought I'd be neighborly and see if you'd like to share some Romulan ale I've been saving. It's quality stuff. I traded with a Ferengi weapons dealer for a case of it a few years back. None of the others seem to appreciate real Romulan ale. You being Romulan, I figure, would enjoy sharing some with me."
Immediately her former self just had to chime in. *Yes, that's right, help us get drunk off our asses so that we can screw things up royally before we even set foot on Romulus.*
Taking in a breath, Jarol fought for focus. Observing from a distance, Karyn saw something she had never seen before; her colleagues did not know what to do. The hesitation was in reality, only a moment, but for the former Starfleet officers, it felt like an eternity.
Jarol grew tired of waiting for someone to react. Scowling at the knowledge her cohorts couldn't respond to a simple invitation, she strode to the entrance. Karyn thankfully remained silent.
"Romulan ale you say? Let me see." *Stall, stall, stall!!* Gods, she wished Karyn would shut up.
Doorn smiled showing what remained of the Barolian's rotting teeth. "I was told this is a fine year. While I'm no expert, the other bottles I've had all were very good."
Colonel Jarol took the bottle and regarded the label for a moment. Uncorking it, she sniffed the Romulan beverage as if evaluating it. Her attention then returned to the Barolian. "2301. A good year. How do I know you haven't tampered with this? Placed sedatives or poison in it perhaps?" Karyn questioned. Neither of her personalities really expected an honest answer, but Karyn was reminded of Ryak's advice to always keep others on the defensive.
The engineer seemed quite surprised at the Romulan's insinuation. "Why would I want to do that? I just thought you'd enjoy this. Here..." Doorn said, taking the bottle away from the Tal'Shair leader and taking a drink himself. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he smiled those same rotting teeth once again. "You see? Perfectly safe and quite refreshing."
Jarol could hear Karyn retching in the background of her mind.
Karyn's eyes narrowed as she took the bottle from the Barolian once again. Listening to the universal translated Romulan the Barolian was speaking and then to the native Romulan Counselor Dallas was using in her persona as Colonel Jarol made it obvious why the team needed to speak the native language and couldn't rely on the mechanical translation of the UT. Again she sniffed the bottle contents.
Karyn knew she was probably going to have to take a drink and so was preparing herself for the prospect. The daughter of an abusive alcoholic, Karyn suffered no delusions about what she could become if left to her own devices. She had come close to drowning in a bottle before, and the very idea that she might have to allow the ale to impair her senses even just a bit concerned her, not to mention her primary concern that this was might be a trap.
It was ironic that her first true hurdle was not a person or the language barrier, but a bottle. Breaking that line of thought, Karyn knew she was choking. She had to focus. She had to become Jarol down to her core.
The inner voice she had come to see as the Jarol persona reminded her that a lot more was at stake than her own personal demons.
Sub-Commander Mirok stepped forward and in pretty good Romulan managed to ask, "How do we know he didn't use a poison to which his kind is immune?"
Colonel Jarol looked at the Barolian, somewhat pleased that Elaithin had done so well in speaking Romulan and posing the question in the right tone and with the correct inflection. Karyn knew the question would have made the real Jarol proud, that was, once she got over the fact that she had not thought to ask the question herself. Karyn promptly told her alter ego to stop being a baby.
"My colleague has a valid point." She stated, but then relented, "However I don't believe you would have reason to drug members of the Star Empire, and certainly not anyone from the Tal'Shair."
Jarol had to act. There was a fine line between caution and fear, and the latter had almost gotten her killed.
With that Jarol took a taste of the sweet Romulan beverage. It took effort for Karyn not to wince at the high alcohol content and spit the stuff right back out, but she managed to take a sample and then look back at the engineer. "Quite good indeed. Come, you may visit for a while."
*Dad would be so proud of you, drinking directly out of the bottle like that.* Karyn added.
Jarol wanted to tell them to go away, but Karyn pointed out how disrespectful that would be. Besides, if she were going to end up slurring her words, so were they.
The Barolian engineer smiled and came walking into the quarters with his two bottles of ale. "That's more like it." He said when he entered and took a seat near Commander Palteth on the sofa. Turning the Barolian engineer handed a bottle to Commander Palteth.
Jarol thought the Barolian was becoming a bit too cozy, and was determined to keep her guard.
Major Galathon stepped over carrying several glasses. In pretty good Romulan Galathon stated, "Glass?" as he offered the square shaped beverage receptacles to each member of the team and their Barolian guest.
Doorn poured liberal glasses for each of the Romulan members. "It's rare that we have guests on board the freighter. Captain Daman usually doesn't allow it." The Barolian engineer finished pouring each person a glass of Romulan ale and topped off his own glass before placing the bottle down. "You must either be very important or very wealthy people."
Jarol's eyes narrowed. *He's sucking up to us, the bastard.* For once, Karyn and Jarol were in complete agreement. The only question now was what, if anything, was to come of it.
****
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy
"Friends Forever or Not"
By Lt Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer
Lieutenat jg. Autumn Quevvenson, ACMO
**Ten-Foward**
Rose was sitting alone drinking some wine as she was reading the letter from her cousin Lily Williamson who was getting married to one of Wilhem's cousins. She miss being with Autumn but too scared when she around her other friend Heather, plus she didn't want to lose Autumn's friendship.
Autumn walked into Ten Forward looking for a quiet place to sit and relax. Carefully she scanned the area and spotted a familar figure sitting by herself. She walked to the bar and ordered a hot chocolate from Leo and then made her way through the people, smiling at some and nodding at others. She stepped up to Rose's table and said in her soft accented voice. "This seat taken?"
Rose looks up from her letter and smiles alittle, "Please sit."
Autumn sat down and smiled at her friend. "How have you been?"
Rose smiles and folds the letter back, "Throwing up so much it..it is hell. My father is spending more time with me and my goddaughters, there so much I don't know about him. And don't get me started on my mother, she found me a "mate" on Betazed who is 13 years old then me."
Autumn sighed. "Your mother is nuts you know... and as for being sick all the time.. arn't you supposed to be taking that medication for morning sickness that Todd Gave you? And if its run out why haven't you been back to med bay for a renewal?"
"I have been taking then, I promise." Rose said with alittle grin then drinks her milk down making an sour look...she hates milk.
Autumn sighed. "You have better be." She knew what it was like with medication.. she hated taking the stuff as well.
Rose try to smile about the next question, "How married life?"
"Its good. very good. I never thought I would be able to live with another person but its going very well.... Now if i can get Summer to behave it will be going great."
"Good for you!" she said while drinking an big glass of wine down.
"So what have you been up to lately?" Autumn asked.
"Nothing why?"
"Just a friendly question Rose.." Autumn trailed off. "Look I can see something about me being here is bothering you. So i'll come back later." She pushed her chair back and went to stand.
"Please stay Autumn!" Rose asked her looking up at her.
Autumn sighed and sat down again.
"Hear me out old friend, I haven't been sleeping well..and I worried about our friendship. I don't want to lose it but right now I have an lot on my mind and I know you have also." Rose said then she gave alittle gold box, inside was an gold friendship brachlet that said ~Rose and Autumn, Friends forever~
Autumn looked at Rose and said. "Sorry Rose but I am not going to accept this.. I can't ok.. nothing to do with any reason about you.. I just can't ok?"
"Fine I will just throw it away then, I will always be your friend Autumn but the ball is in your count now. Take you choice." Rose said starting to get up from the chair alittle upset.
"All I want to do it be your friend and to help you but that your choice."
Autumn sighed. "Rose it isn't the fact that I don't want to be your friend.. It is the fact that I don't need trinkets to prove that we are friends.. I know that here" She placed her hand over her heart.
"That the first time any friend said that to me Autumn, really it is."
Autumn looked at Rose. "Well then they weren't true friends"
Rose looks down then touchs her stomach, "I still thinking about aborteing the baby."
Autumn waited a beat before saying. "Don't you want your baby rose?"
"I don't know yet Doctor."
Autumn shook her head. "I am not asking as a doctor Rose.. as a friend"
"The answer the same Autumn, I don't know yet." Rose said sitting back down with her wine.
"Um Rose... you don't have much time before any doctor will refuse to do the procedure.. just so you know.. and No i will not do it."
"So if I asked you to aborted this baby you wouldn't do it for me...like I told you I haven't made my choice yet."
"No Rose I would do the Abortion for you. Personally I find doing that breaks my oathe as a doctor.. not that I haven't broken it in the line of duty but The child is innocent in this and I won't take an innocent life."
"Oh and what am I, an person who got tied down and raped for the second time in her life. You don't understand what I'm going though Autumn because you never been raped." Rose said ordering some more wine trying to hide her anger alittle.
Autumn sighed and snapped. "Yeah Rose your right i never have been raped so i have no idea what you are going through and i am sorry." She stood up. "So I am not taking this. Sorry Rose You are my best friend but at the moment if you are goign to act like this I am leaving." She pushed away from the table. "You know where I am Rose if you ever need my friendship.."
"I do need your friendship, really I do and I sorry for snapping at you will you please forgive me and lets go somewhere else to visit? Just please don't leave me!"
Autumn stopped and turned and said. "I am not sure Rose if I am going to be able to talk to you right now..."
"Fine then Doctor, you know where I am if you need me and if you want to talk." Rose said as she walked out towards her quarters to be with her family.
Autumn sighed and scowled at the ground. "And they say I am stubborn... Like hell." She stalked out of the room heading for her quarters, to find something to smash.
"Victory For The Hawks"
By Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan, Assistant Chief Operations Officer, USS Galaxy With Exerts, thanks to Brevet Commander Rebecca Von Erst and Lieutenant Electra Reece
"Fraggin' hell.." Corgan cursed under his breath, "Captain Numbnuts nearly fragged the damn sensor array."
Hoping nobody heard his impulsive comment, James Corgan leaned over his Ops console and inspected the damage. The lateral sensors were giving him serious problems during the last hour and a half, due to scratches on the senors pallets. The repair nanobots were already out, fixing ever ding, scratch and scuff on the Galaxy's duranium hull. The narrowed shield frequency, the problem James was currently trying to address to the captain, phased out most but not all foreign objects. As the Chief Helmsman reported before, the space dust would pelt them into shiny, shredded metal bits unless they had the time to compensate for the problem. Frantically, the shields were re-set to normal setting and power was re-allocated from the sensors to the shields and weapons.
He was particularly sore and bitter over the part when they found the source of the transmission. It was a freighter, disappeared months ago by god knows what kind of space phenomena or what pirate ship. ~"Most likely Orion privateers."~ He sighed, ~"Don't they teach freighters to keep away from nebulas anymore? Everyone knows pirates love to hide out in nebulas."~
His attention came back to the shield allocation. He thanked whatever deity was watching over him today, because most of the nebula's debris was deflected, greatly decreasing the amount of foreign object damage to the ship. Praying didn't stop one speck of ionized magnesite passed through and scratched the lateral sensor.
Now, Corgan wrapped up the last of the allocation to the automatic repair systems. They were done covering up the minuscule hit that were too small to wreck the duranium hull, and the lateral sensor's resolution jumped back up to normal levels as the scratch was repaired.
"Finally! Thank you... thank you... thank you!" James congratulated his console, giving it a loving tap on the screen. A few officers looked at him as if he was strange. Detecting a half dozen eyes in his direction, he said, "I think me and her have an understanding here." He gave the console a final pat and continued on with work.
For once, work was going along smoothly, more so than any other day. The latest of Brhode's surprises thrown at them was a minor inconvenience. Besides shields, the scratched hull from ionized magnecite particles, recalling two shuttles in record time, and flying at warp nine for hours on end, and finding out the distress call was days, or even weeks to late, everything else was manageable easy. Even the unexpected emergencies were easily remedied from an Operations Officer's point of view.
He didn't envy the Engineering department. They were the ones that would have to put in the extreme amount of overtime. For Science and
Operations, this was to be a break from the nebula business.
His thoughts were short lived, cut off by the chirrup of a comm.-badge. He looked over his shoulder to find out who it was.
The stone cold voice of Captain Brhode called out to his second officer, Lieutenant Rebecca Von Erst, summoning her to the Captain's ready room immediately. Timidly, she rose up from her chair, staring around for a person to address. Uncertainty filled in her stuttering voice, filled in with random I's and T's. James wanted to help, but as an Assistant Chief, it wasn't his place to respond. He instantly recognized what she was trying to do, she was trying to find an officer to replace her on the bridge. Not qualified for the prestigious position for even a slim minute, James sat back and watched, hoping Rebecca would pull through.
"Uh ... Lexa ... I mean Lieutenant Reece," Rebecca stammered, looking at Lexa while the taller woman spun her chair to face the superior officer.
~"Come on... Rebecca. You can do it."~ He inwardly prayed.
"You uh ... you ... uh..." Rebecca nodded her head toward the Captain's chair, indicating her wishes "You..."
Lexa picked up on her signals, replying, "Aye Ma'am. I have the Bridge."
~"That was close... thanks Lex."~ James breathed a sigh of relief. His CO and current girlfriend came through for Rebecca, making the tag to take over the bridge before the poor girl stammered herself to a pure panic attack. Rebecca was quick to capitalize, quickly walking into the Captain's ready room, slinking away as quietly and unassuming as possible. That was one of the many benefits of having a friend on the bridge, she was never short of help. James wasn't able, but he was glad to have some backup of his own.
Lexa vacated the Conn, taking her place on the Captain's chair. As assistant Chief, Lieutenant Corgan had to take over the main operations console at the front of the bridge. He pointed to Ensign U'brafe, then back at his old Ops console. The ensign nodded in acknowledgment, taking over the console while James strolled to take over Lexa's position.
He passed by his beautiful girlfriend, in a subdued awe of amazement and envy. She sat in the Captain's chair with the utmost confidence, or at least, James couldn't see her own nervousness. Her eyes shot a short glance at him, then focused into tunnel vision on the ship's main viewscreen. In the chair that commanded the power of one of the Federation's most prestigious ships, Lexa looked as if she was a regal queen, commanding immense power beyond even her comprehension at her fingertips. Her castle could crumble, and the humble knight that he was could be broken and bleeding, but she would sit high on her command chair, unmarred and unafraid, smiling down on him to lift his spirits. It was a simple leather chair, but the power behind made it as powerful as a kingdom's throne. Lexa, his queen, was for the moment the most powerful woman on the ship.
Power that was fleeting by the second. He took a brief moment to look at his girlfriend, smiling and mouthing the words, "Great save, sir.". He wasn't sure if Lexa took notice. ~"No matter,"~ Corgan thought, ~"I'll tell her later."~ At least he smiled, one of his little ‘things' he did with Lexa to boost her confidence in sticky situations.
He slid into his new station, beginning the routine of testing the newly repaired sensor array. Successfully, it detected the vacuum and relative lack of anything within its arc, and on long range, it even read the nebula.
Back to monitoring the communications traffic. Nothing.
~"Maybe now's a good time for reports?"~ He thought, ~"Hmmmm... sure. Whatever kills the time, until either my shift is over, or Captain Federation here tries to save the universe for the stars and leaves..."~
His not so high opinion for Captain Brhode put aside, he set to work trying to find the latest string of reports to finish. James cycled through the list of reports yet to be done by the Operations department.
~"Sensor readings for our last scan of the nebula? Check..."~ He grumbled, ~"Allocation report of power to repair nanites... Check... before the sensor was even repaired.. What about the reports on the emergency allocation of power from the sensors to defensive systems?"~ A few taps later showed a completed report, ~"Dammit... I did that before we found out that ship wasn't there. What about sending the report to the Starfleet Missing Ship's Bureau on that reading? .......... Check. Lexa must have sent it out while we were in transit.... damn. Looks like there's nothing left for me."~
Then he realized... the mountain of paperwork requested by Brhode was actually finished. Reports galore, with restless nights spent slaving away on charts, histograms, status reports and monthly projections together with Lexa, in combination with the amount of time spent on extra shifts, killed the beast and laid the problem to rest. Reports were finished for the time being.
What was there to do?
"Frag." He muttered. The console was all to himself. Comm. traffic was at a dead minimum in such an isolated place. Power was already allocated and the new allocations were available once they went back into the nebula. Everything conceivable was finished.
And here he was, on the bridge of the Galaxy, with nothing to do but wait around for some disaster to strike. He couldn't move or look idle, in fear of being caught by the new Captain, or worse yet, by his girlfriend.
"Double frag..."
His console sparkled a tiny light on the far corner. Selecting the nearest button to it, he tapped it twice, bringing up something very interesting.
A shuttle was departing. The latest shuttlebay report was sent by the shift's flight ops officer. In bold, amber colored words, the arrival/departure schedule showed the shuttlecraft Diderot was scheduled to leave the ship shortly. Bizarre, considering that the Diderot wasn't one of the ships modified to go into the nebula, and they were eight (OOC: did I get that right?) lightyears from the nebula. In fact, he remembered that the other two shuttles were left behind.
Curiously, he took a closer look at the report, and the Diderot, recalling all the needed information on a small corner of his console. He had to squint to read, but he found out who was on board the ship. It was Anna Thomas, and Commander Christopher Thomas.
~"What the f**king hell...."~ His mind went into wild speculation. No reason came to mind as to why the Commander would be leaving the ship. As far as he knew, Thomas wasn't part of whatever mockery of a ceremony Brhode posted to formally boot half the senior staff off the Galaxy. He never heard of any trouble between Brhode and Thomas. All in all, he didn't know what was going on and why Thomas was on the Diderot.
Commanding officers were gone, Thomas just left, and Rebecca Von Erst, the prodigal student of Admiral Hoth, was mysteriously summoned to Captain Brhode's ready room. He thought of some theories... And then, his mind turned on the lights. An instant click later, Corgan shut down the shuttlebay departure schedules, and brought up the ship's manifest. Running a query on the manifest database, he looked at the crew list of the entire Tactical Department.
Rebecca's name was gone. He executed a query for senior staff. Right beside Rebecca Von Erst's name, showed the rank of Brevet Commander.
"Oh no..." James gasped.
"ATTENTION Galaxy Crew." Captain Brhode interrupted the ship's routine, "As of Stardate 50112.23 Lieutenant Rebecca von Ernst is hereby given the Brevet rank of Full Commander and the position of Ship's Executive Officer. Do your duty towards her. Brhode out."
~"Holy f**king sheep sh*t!"~ He panicked, ~"What the hell has he done?!?"~
James was ready to either jump out of his seat and run for dear life, or come into Brhode's office and knock some sense into him. ~"What kind of Captain puts a person without a shred of command experience in the chair?!?"~
It was days like this that Corgan thought, or even knew, that he had more common sense than most of the brass, a rude, condescending remark considering his shaky mental state. Rebecca wasn't even a command school graduate, much less experienced enough to take on the awesome responsibilities Starfleet heaped upon her.
~"Oh god no... why did they have to do this to her?"~ James cried.
The ready room slid open, revealing COMMANDER Von Erst. All eyes locked on like targeting solutions to a doomed Jem'Hadar fighter. She was too petrified to squeak, wave, or tell the crew to carry on. She just walked to the captain's chair, stunned, silent and wandering like a dazed animal who was just let out of its cage. Lexa moved out of the way, letting poor little Rebecca take her seat. She was now queen of the starship, her new, shiny, silver pip showing her temporary status. Princess Phaserbanks, now a queen.
James moved back to his Ops console, leaving the seat perfectly warm for his CO (the advantages of having the same height). His mind was racing from the suddenness of the events unfolding. He thought of the dozens of officers who would be angry at the promotion. Normally, an officer like James waited at least several years before he made it to a high enough rank to command, and even then, a year of Command School was needed in order to qualify for commanding officer positions on almost any starship. In a course of only one year, Rebecca blasted from obscurity to the command chair. Ironically, she didn't want the position, while most officers that were willing to do anything for the spot sat around and wondered how the little redhead zipped past.
Corgan knew how. He suspected it for a long time, ever since he first shared a shuttle ride with her to Earth. It was Admiral Hoth of the bogus Wolf 359 school. The admiral was infamous for giving the fast track to students. To no surprise, James suspected Brhode of being in the Admiral's pocket. There was no special gift that brought her through, because her gift was balanced out by ‘other' problems. It was Starfleet, and the fleet's biggest hawks trying to train their latest weapon. Like his last speech/rant to Rebecca, he said that they were tearing her apart. He could see it in her face, her eyes and her actions. The hawks were hooking their talons deep into her flesh, and pecking her with their beaks.
As soon as he reached his console, he typed out a rapid message...
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
To: Commander Rebecca Von Erst
From: Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
RE: Promotion
Normally, congratulations would be in order, but from the look on your face when you came back to the bridge, I can tell you weren't in the mood for celebrating.
All I can say is that I'm sorry those damn Admirals got the best of you. I'll try to help in any way possible. If you need to talk to someone, I wouldn't mind hearing from you. From the looks of things, you'll need all the assistance a newly promoted Commander can get.
Just do one thing for me. If you're going to talk to me, better be prepared to talk to me about what's going on. I think as friends, we miss that too often. Don't be afraid to talk. I'm not going to hurt you. In fact... I hope I'll be able to help.
Don't be a stranger, ok?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"God, WHY?"
by
Lt. JG Vladimir Malgin - Medical
Lt. JG Alia Elspeth Drakely - Security
Alia couldn't believe that she had been so careless! Not only had she let Arel get a blow in with her sword, but she had actually cut her - pretty bad. She had her shirt wrapped around her arm as she entered the turbolift. And the worst part? She would have to go to sickbay.
A shiver ran up her spine as she exited the lift and starting walking with her eyes closed as she tried to calm herself. She suddenly collided with an unfamiliar officer,
"I'm sorry, are you alright?" he asked,
"Yes, yes. I'm fine. I should have been looking where I was going." She said hurriedly.
"But your arm..."
She looked down. The blood was now seeping nicely through the shirt, "I'm on my way to sickbay now." She assured. It didn't assure her..."I'll be fine." She hoped...
He gave her a smile and went on his way.
She stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before going in.
She stood just in side the doors and looked around trying to keep herself calm. Oh, dear God how she hated sickbays...
It was quite simple day at sickbay. Quiet, relaxing... What thing can be the worst in such a moment for doctor? Yes - a patient. When Vladimir heard the door opening he made a groan and slowly turned to Alia. Then his sight went down to her arm. Vladimir's eyes widened and his head fell to his palm. "Oh, sssssssssshit!" was the only thing he managed to say.
Well that just really put her confidence up..."Is that your official medical conclusion?" Alia responded with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
"Oh, sorry! Lemme see it!" He ran to Alia and had a look on her arm. There really was quite large blood spot. "Damn! Where you managed to have SUCH a thing? Playing card games with klingons?"
"You're very nearly right. It was a sword. A simple fight with a simple sword, unfortunately, I can't say the same for the wound."
"(annoyed voice) I see that it isn't really good. Give me your hand!"
Alia recognised this doctor...she suddenly realised it was the one that fixed her face up when she was trying to get at the vampires. He hadn't changed much, but then she should give him a chance, after all, he was Russian and that explained it all...She tried to relax herself as she gave him her hand...It's okay - what's the worst that can happen?
Vladimir took her hand and stopped the bleeding. "Wow, nice scratch."
"Thank you, I do try." She replied with what she hoped was an easy fashion. He took out some horrible looking device or other and brought it over to her arm. Her eyes widened slightly and she jerked her arm away, moving a few inches away from him. "Um...Do you have to use that?"
Vladimir gave a little evil smile and said "And what do you want? Needle and thread? At ease - I have few in my room. But it will hurt a little."
She gave him a nervous laugh, "No, of course not, I suppose you're right." But she made no move to give him her arm.
Vladimir felt himself slowly seething and said "I'll need your arm if I have to treat it."
"Yes. Of course, of course." It's only a stupid little device, she told herself firmly, but it didn't have much effect. She slowly held her arm a couple of inches closer to him.
"Closer, please. Closer."
Oh, damn it! Alia bit down slightly on her lower lip, and braved moving it a little closer, "Is that still too far?" she asked with a frown.
"Yes, far, damn! I need your arm in my hand!"
"That would require going near that thing." Alia grumbled as she finally gave him her arm, turning her head the other way and shutting her eyes, refusing to look.
Vladimir took her hand and said in annoyed voice, while treating it "That's better. Just don't move your hand... Yes... Voila! Does it hurt?". He finished with arm and released it.
She suspiciously wriggled her fingers, "No, it doesn't." She chuckled lightly, "Thank you." She added as she remembered her manners.
"(smile) And if you had your hand that far, then it could hurt like hell. And .... Please excuse me for my... temper. I just cannot do anything with it."
Punching him playfully on the shoulder, Alia laughed, "Join security - that's what I did with mine."
Vladimir gave a sarcastic smile and said "Just don't fall in anger, but I hate security. The only thing that I like in them, is that they rarely appear in sickbay. No vendetta for these words, I hope?"
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, the one thing that I cannot stand in this universe is sickbay. But of course - no vendetta, I hope." She gave him a sly smile as she threw him a glance.
He felt himself exploding and thought "No, no, no! If I'll shout on security officer, I'll be the one who will need medical attention. Steam off!". Then he took a deep breath and tried to smile "OK. I expected this answer. Nothing more?"
"Oh, most definitely not. But thank you very much, doctor." She gave him a friendly nod and left sickbay at a near run, not being able to wait to get out of there.
Vladimir raised his hands to the ceiling in his great manner, sighed and quietly whispered "God, why? You know that I hate security, don't you? Yes? And WHY you give me security officers?! (one more sigh)". He lowered his hands.
Alia was still walking hurriedly away from sickbay, "Why, God?! You know I hate sickbays and yet you throw Arel my way as a training partner, and a doctor whos hobby is giving security officers a hard time!" She shook her head as she put as much distant between her and sickbay as possible.
"Who are you and what have you done with Captain Brhode?!"
With...(who else..) Captain John Brhode and the bridge crew.
With exerpts from "Holodeck Hell." and unauthorized use of Mike O' Grady.
"O'Grady to Brhode...I have found the culprit and have sent you the report plus evidence found. Lt. Murphy isn't going to wiggle out of this, sir.' the Galaxy's Chief Security Officer said with a hint of satisfaction in her voice at completing the task in the timeframe that had been provided.
Brhode straightened a bit in his chair.
"Well done, Lt. Commander. Very well done." he said.
All heads turned to face the stern Captain, then confused glances were exchanged amongst nearly everyone on the bridge. Brhode didn't seem to notice his staff's reaction.
"Put together your official statement and evidence packet. I want all the I's dotted and T's crossed. Then arrange for a shuttle to transport FORMER Lt. Murphy to the J.A.G. facility on Starbase 415. I want Murphy off my ship."
"Understood, Sir. O'Grady out." Brhode said returning his hawklike gaze to the swirling colors and eddies of the Mako Nebula.
An awkward silence had filled the bridge.
"Is there some sort of problem?" the captain snapped, glancing at the faces looking at him.
Councilor O'Grady spoke out from his seat at the older man's right.
"Are you feeling well sir?"
Brhode sighed heavily and tugged on his tunic. "Of coarse I am Councilor. Why do you ask?"
"Are you sure? Not feeling feverish or any such thing?" O'Grady persisted. Everyone else on the bridge watched with rapt anticipation. The Captain had actually CONGRATULATED someone. Surely something must be wrong.
"COUNCILOR, WHAT THE SAM HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS INQUISITION?! If I say that I am in fine physical shape, you better damn well believe that I am. Anyone who doesn't think so is more than welcome to put their fancy little 'Body by Sanchez' tee shirts on that everyone seems so fond of, and drop down with me to start pushing the floor and see who outlasts whom!"
The councilor shrunk back a bit in his plush chair.
"Sorry, sir. Just that you..I mean it's unlike you to..well..."
"JEEZUS CHRIST ON A CHARIOT DRIVEN CRUTCH! SPIT IT OUT MAN! YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE A PEOPLE PERSON..."
"You..you congratulated Lt. Commander O'Grady, Sir."
Brhode drew back in what could quite possibly be construed as genuine surprise. "Well, of coarse I congratulated her! She did a damn fine job! Why wouldn't I thank her for giving me, this ship and Starfleet her best effort?"
"When you put it that way, it's perfectly understandable." Mike said.
'Of coarse it understandable. Do I strike you as some cold hearted dictator who lives only to belittle and make lives miserable?" he asked while some on the bridge bit their tongues.
"Ah..no you don't. Not really."
"Of coarse I don't. Im a merry and gleeful soul not a tyrant! I'm frankly stunned and amazed that you would even think that way, councilor. Are you sure that you're feeling well perhaps a bit feverish?"
Mike turned and faced the viewscreen, trying to tune out the nearly inaudible snickers he was sure the remainder of the bridge crew were stifling. "I'm fine sir..."he said exhaling deeply.
"Sleep deprivation makes for loose lips"
LCDR Mike O'Grady
Chief counselor
The snickers were sure to come, what the hell had he been thinking, on the bridge of a galaxy class starship he actually asked the captain if he was allright for positive feedback.
Normally he didn't pull such bonehead maneuvers in public but when he closed his eyes his head sagged foreward.
"Commander." Captain Bhrodie had never seen an officer fall asleep at his station before. "Counselor, wake up."
Mike started, "Sir?"
Bhrodie was looking at him with some concern. Another expression he thougth Captain Ahab wasn't capable of at first. "Commander, are you feeling ok?"
If there was any way Michael O'Grady could crawl in a hole and die he would find it now. First he had actually insulted the man, second thing he had fallen asleep.
On the bridge, at his post, when we were at heightened alert status.
"Uhh sorry sir. Problems at home, it's no..."
"Nonsense Commander, if you're that foggy that you're falling asleep and not thinking before you speak you are of no use on the bridge. Go home. Call your relief and get some rest." Bhrodie whispered, "every officer gets one mistake, consider this yours."
Mike was relieved. He had expected the boom to fall and him to end up in the brig.
Tapping his console he sent a request to send Shinta to the bridge, then he left for his quarters and a quick nap and shower.
He had been a poor counselor if he did that during a battle situation whe the captain needed his advice it would have been a disaster.
"Whalesong"
By
Lt. j/g Alia Drakely, Security Officer USS GALAXY Lt. Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley, Chief Tactical Officer USS GALAXY
************************************************************************
Cetacean Ops Viewing Lounge #2 (Compartment 14-1877)Deck 14
Lysander settled into the couch and stared deep into the tank. The greeny- blue water (unknown to him, of course being SUCH the insensitive guy) matched his eyes exactly. The dim forms of Amos and Andy, the Sperm whales could be seen gliding through the depths of the tank, which formed one entire 'wall' of the lounge. The lounge was one of the many that studded the enormous Three-deck deep tanks.
Lysander sighed, and tried to organize his thoughts. They had the bad habit of running amok in his mind at the most inopportune times.
Fact: Rebecca couldn't run the Tactical Department alone.
Fact: Rebecca was in deep smeg now that she had duties as Second Officer, as well as Tactical Chief.
Fact: Lysander and Alexa were the only two who were in a position to help her, despite Rebecca's continued protests that she didn't need, or wish help. Alexa had her nose bent out of line about her oft-promised promotion and could be counted upon to worry about Alexa first and Rebecca second and the ship a distant third.
Fact: Of all the people Lysander ever thought he'd fall in -love- with, Rebecca Von Ernst was waaaayyyyyyy down the list.
Fact: If anything happened to Commander Thomas, Lysander's favourite resident Intell-Spook, Rebecca would be First Officer or Captain. And probably crack, or puke into the Computer Core or something dreadful.
Fact: Something HAD happened to Thomas now, and Bhrode had made Rebecca First Officer.
Fact: Lysander was deep in the smeg himself, because he'd managed to, somehow, apparently against all odds replace Rebecca in the Department...
The door hissed open, to reveal Alia Drakely, tall and slim in her Security Yellows, making her rounds during her shift. She interrupted Lysander's musings. Women tended to do that to him. Especially the pretty ones.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Lysander sitting there. She was about to make a rather sharp comment as pay back for when he had so generously showed her up in front of the other security staff, when she saw the slight crease of his brow. "Hey, Lysander, how you doing?" Alia asked instead, as she resumed her course into the room.
"Oh. Heyas Missus Copperpot. Or is it Missus Odin this week? I get so confused..." Miserable and confused though he was, the chance to bait a pretty girl was like a red flag in front of Lysander.
She opened her mouth to say something, but for once, words failed her. She had been prepared to call a truce...but no. She strode over to where he as sitting. "For the last time, Chuck is my FRIEND! A concept which I am sure is very difficult for you to understand, but please try or you may end up in the tank, and I have no wish to do that to such a charming young man." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"No hey, it's cool. You..Chuckie..You..Eric...You..Streely... whatever floats your boat. You ever just sit here and look at these fish?" Lysander waved a negligent hand at the lounge chair next to him, in a half- assed invitation.
She relaxed slightly at his change of topic, "No, I can't say that I have. Though they're technically not fish but mammals of some..."
Lysander cut her off with an airy reply of: "By the way, thank you again for setting up that kid's interview with the Security Officer today. I like how you dumped it on someone else. I should have thought of that myself."
Giving him an easy smile, she said, "That's quite alright, Lysander. besides, it's you Arel's mad with..."
"ME? Why would Ensign Smith be upset with Me? I'm such a charming young man, after all, and the smeggin' little grubber wasn't mine anyways. Maybe you could fix her up with some of your broken hearted castoffs, mellow her out..."
"Broken hearted..." She repeated incredulously. She pulled herself up straight and spoke indignantly, although amusement managed to shine through her eyes, "Just because you are jealous, my Lord, doesn't mean you have to be sour about it."
"Jealous?" squeaked out Lysander, his eyes almost popping out of his head. "Why in the smeggin Novas would -I- be jealous? Of you? What do you think, I sit here daily moping because I'm at a loss for romantic entanglements? Because I'm not! A ...friend... told me about this place.... Jeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzzeeee Drakely! You sure have a lot to learn about people if you think I'm jealous...that...I'm....."
Lysander stared at her smirking face, and threw his hands up in the air and collapsed back into the depths of the couch. He pointed a finger at her and demanded in a peevish voice: "What's this smeggin' 'My Lord' smeg anyways? You have the oddest sense of humour, Drakely..."
"I don't know, I think it kind of suits you." She replied with her head tilted to one side, considering him, "Yep, you certainly are the young lord aren't you. But don't worry, you're no worse than the ones I used to know."
She dropped down onto a chair and folded her arms, staring at him intently, "What's up?" She asked simply, her gaze never wavering.
Lysander shrugged. He started ticking points off on his fingers. "Usual things. Everyone's so worried about getting promoted and covering their asses that no one seems to know how to have a good time anymore. Least of all me."
"Women, You're all smegging insane."
"My boss gets promoted not once, but twice over the heads of more qualified officers."
"And..I have this exceedingly -nasty- feeling that you're looking at the next Chief Tactical Officer of USS GALAXY. Whether I want it or not."
He gloomily stared straight ahead at the murky depths of the whale tank.
"I take it that my saying congratulations wouldn't make you feel any better?" She asked with a hopeful smile.
Lysander's glare put that notion to rest.
"It's premature anyways Drakely. He made Princess the XO today, no one in Tactical's heard the word 'boo' on the whole subject. So what's your dysfunction?"
She leant forward, "Will you please stop calling me Drakely?" She asked simply. "It makes me sound like my father."
Lysander shrugged. He didn't know her that well, and he never called women by their first name, unless he had ulterior motives. He had those often, but not here. He'd seen this woman snog Leo Streely, for crying out loud. Lysander had his principles, after all.
Alia's mind back tracked a little, "Hang on," she said, as it just hit her, "'Princess'?"
"Yeah. Princess Phaserbanks. You may know her as our new Executive Officer. -COMMANDER- Von Ernst. Red hair? Short? Freckles? Usually scurrying around the ship staring at the floor and mumbling to herself? Only opens her mouth to puke or stutter, usually at the same time? Oh wait, you'd have never seen her, you come out of your room when you're not actually working..."
"Well, I'm glad to hear you hold the young lady in such high regard." Alia commented with a raised eyebrow.
Lysander stared gloomily at the fish. (Zoology was never his strongpoint. To him, they're big guppies.) and pondered Rebecca. While he admitted to himself that he'd briefly entertained the notion of a fling during the Academy Years with her, he'd wised up fast and moved on to more easily assailable targets.
Or so he'd thought.
"The whales can't give you advice you know..." Alia said meaningfully as she looked casually down at her hands.
"Lucky smeggers. All they have to do around here is swim around, sing, and eat. If they're randy, just pop another in there and shag away. It must be nice to be brainless..." Lysander sighed.
"I guess...it's the million dollar question Drakely...how do you know that you're interested in...THE ONE...you know?" Lysander turned weary eyes to her, away from the guppies, or whatever they were. The fat fishies.
She looked back up at him, slightly surprised. "Well...there's only ever one answer to that question, it's just got to...feel right."
"Well, fine and dandy for YOU to say, Drakely. But, if I can't even get her attention, how can I find out if what I feel is -really- what I feel?"
"But, Lysander, how will getting her attention help you determine what you're feeling? If it's love, it's love, regardless of whether she looks your way or not." Dear God! Was she really sitting in front of a whale tank, giving Lysander advice on love? Oh, how Jonathan would laugh...
"Well, -I- never thought I'd fall in love. I mean..you know...it's not like I haven't been in relationships...well.. okay..I haven't. But I never found anyone who interested me enough. I mean.... if everyone knew it going in, where's the harm, right?" Lysander queried, with a worried expression.
"Perhaps here? In this conversation stemming from that very fact?" She took on a kindly tone with him, "Don't get me wrong, Lysander, I'm not condemning you. Hell, God knows I've lived the same way for far too many years. But, perhaps it's time you asked yourself what it is you really want, instead of what you think you ought to want."
Lysander blinked, as he digested that bit of information.
"I don't know anything about that, Drakely. Really and honestly, I don't know what I feel. Everytime before, there was something that made me say "She's not HER." And now, I find the oddest, the most mind-bogglingly bizarre things...being the most endearing? What the smeg is THAT all about?"
"Perhaps you are growing up, my young Lord." Alia observed with a straightforward tone.
"Maybe. though if you call me that one more time, Drakely, I'll tell Chuckie I saw you snogging Leo Streely." Lysander smirked that odd, crooked grin of his.
"Go ahead, because he won't care!" But Alia knew that in an odd way, she would though.
Lysander eyed the tall brunette from Security with a wary eye.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much!" quoted Lysander with that irritating crooked grin of his.
Alia stared in confusion. Who'd have expected the notorious Lysander to have ever read anything but a piloting manual without a phaser held to portions of his anatomy he was rather fond of?
Of course, being Lysander, he had to go and ruin it.
"Smegg's sake
Drakely, you're not going to get all mawkish and tell me that we're such great chums now or anything, are you? So Chuckie won't care that you snogged the notorious Streely? Umm...you and the girls and Leo disappeared on us the rest of that night. I hope that you didn't..."
"That's enough!" She exclaimed with wide eyes. "You will tell him no such thing, Lysander. Do you hear? NO SUCH THING!" She leant forward to glare the message home.
Lysander suppressed the chuckle that was building. From the over- reaction, he'd hit a nerve.
"Sure, sure. Settle down there Drakely. Though...say...IF he were to hear about it from Dante, or Pressley, or one of the other guys in Security now...and of course we -all- know Leo's not going to be quiet about it...but rest assured, Chuckie won't hear about it from me..." Lysander was fighting to keep the snigger inside, but it finally burst out towards the end.
She shot up off her chair, "I was drunk! You KNOW that we were all plastered!"
"Oh man...thanks for talking Alia!! I thought -I- had problems in the romance Department...but...snogging Leo Streely!" Lysander was laughing so hard that he was crying, holding his sides and rolling about so hard, he fell off the sofa.
Amos and Andy had come right up to the window, their great and wise eyes peering into the room through the transparent Aluminium. It was a tossup who enjoyed the Observation Lounges more, the crew or the Whales.
With one step Alia was standing over him, hands on hips, face deathly serious as she placed a light foot on his shoulder, causing him to lay on his back and giving him no choice but to look up at her. "I am glad you find the prospect of one of my very few true friendships being destroyed funny, because I do not."
Lysander sobered up some. It was plain to see that she was serious. It was one of the things about Alia that annoyed him to no end..she was -so- bloody serious minded all the time.
She rebuked herself for being so harsh with him, she shouldn't have lost her temper so easily. She found an apologetic smile for him, "I didn't mean that, I'm sorry." She offered an arm down to him, "But really, Lysander, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones." She said with an easy tone.
Lysander got up without her assistance. He busied himself brushing off imaginary dust and avoiding her eye. Then her last, pointed comment sunk into his pre-occupied mind.
"Well..just tell Chuckie you were drunk then, he'll understand. He probally gets giddy conjugating the infinitive tenses in...HEY! Explain that, Drakely! The glass houses thing! How could I have made..err.. my Chuckie-type person jealous?"
Lysander put his hands on his hips and glared her down.
She ignored his implication about how she viewed Chuck, she hadn't meant t like that. As her friend, she valued Chuck's opinion of her. She explained with a gentle tone, "You're hardly known for your chastity, Lysander. Work it out. How will you ever get her to look your way, if she thinks you are occupied elsewhere?"
Lysander's mind didn't move that way. His brow furrowed as he thought...
Suddenly, with soul crushing weight (and an error margin of only +/- 3.9% probability) some things dropped into place in his mind...
FACT: He'd never loved anyone before because...
FACT: he was deep and smegging in love with
FACT: Rebecca Von Ernst, who never acknowledged the few feeble gestures he'd made towards her because...
FACT: He was a smeggin putz who went running to the next floozy because SHE never acknowledged his feeble gestures, thus forcing him to find solace with floozies and pissing Rebecca off further...
FACT: Amy Green hated his guts now because she'd seen it all, made her play and been kicked in the teeth by Lysander because...
FACT: Amy wasn't Rebecca.
Lysander stared whistling to himself. He had no idea that it sounded loathsome not only to Alia, but the Whales as well. He draped a friendly arm over Alia's shoulder and said "You know, for a sloppy drunk who snoggs bartenders right and left, you're pretty smart Drakely. Old Chuck's not so smart, if he doesn't see that. And, between you and I, it was Dante and his crew who blew the story about that Engineering guy. Did it work? Dante and the boys want to know...it was all Pressley's plan..."
When she realised what he meant, she gave him an incredulous laugh, "I don't believe...you guys really are incorrigible, you know that?" She shook her head with a fond smile.
And he dragged her out of the Lounge, her back to her duties, and Lysander off on one of his more hairbrained schemes.
Behind them, two large and sadly wise eyes peered into the murky depths of the Lounge from their tank. Amos nuzzled up against Andy and 'clicked' her love to him. He replied with a distracted 'sckkrrritttccchhh' that annoyed his mate so much she turned with one flick of her tail and 'boomed' her displeasure out on the surface of their home.
Andy thought to himself that life was good here, he had his love, and he could sing all day. Not like those poor creatures out there in their tank. But he so liked watching them...every whale needed it's hobbies after all. Heaving a deep internal sigh, he turned and shot after Amos, rubbing his fluke along her tummmy in the way he knew she liked.
And their songs echoed out of the silvery homage to their grace and beauty...
USS GALAXY sliding it's way through the spaces between the stars...
Singing a whalesong to the stars of love, and the joys of home.
"Shift Switch and Cadets"
by Lt. Brightspot to-Srallansre,
Sivaoan Security Officer
--------------------------------------------------------
Smiling as she gently patted down the ground where she put in some new tail-kinker seedlings in her small plot in the ship's arboretumn, Brightspot used a watering can to give them a gentle soaking so the fertiliser was even.
Patting the ground down, she crawled over to the more mature plants and sniffed some of the berries.
Grinning, she plucked one of the little spiky berries, threw it up into the air and caught it in her mouth. Biting down on it, she savoured the hot spicy taste as she chewed on it. Some people had remarked that it was a funny combination of chillis and whipped cream.
She pulled off a few more before getting up to take the watering can back so she could go to her duty shift station.
**************************
Moving down the corridor, Brightspot rounded the corner and came to a stop outside the Security office.
Entering, she flicked out her tail and spun a small reddish spiked berry towards Lt Cmdr Sanchez, who caught it without even looking up.
"I see the latest crop of tail-kinkers is ready."
Grinning, Brightspot bit into another of the berrys and wiped her mouth.
"Sí. Tenía cualquier apuro esta rotación?" { Yes. Had any trouble this shift? }
Sanchez grinned, "No realmente. Chuck dejó quizá un libro alrededor aquí en alguna parte para pasar el tiempo."
When Brightspot looked at her with a puzzled face, she laughed, "Guess you didn't get that far. I said, 'Not really. Maybe Chuck left a book around here somewhere to pass the time.'"
Grinning, Brightspot nodded before taking a spot behind the security office's desk so Sanchez could finish up her shift.
Just before she left, Sanchez called out, "On a side note, you have been assigned to mentor some new cadets, Baxtor and MacMillian for the next month. They will drop around soon."
Throwing another tail-kinker at Sanchez as she ducked out of the door, Brightspot yelled,
"Thanks a lot. NOT!!"
**************************
Looking up when the two new crewmembers entered, Brightspot grinned when they both jumped, not expecting someone who looked like a tigeress to be there, as her tail flicked from side to side.
"Hello, I am Lt to-Srallansre, and I've been assigned to mentor you both. Sit down and I don't bite."
Bringing up some records, she quickly reviewed their Academy results, finding them both above-average. Smiling, she looked up,
"Okay, got any questions first off? Ask anything."
Baxtor gulped before asking, "I don't mean to be rude but what race are you?"
"That's a good one. I come from a planet called Sivao, and we closely resemble Terran tigers. One thing to note is that we have nearly photgraphic memories for conversations, so just rememeber that."
MacMillian grinned, "That must be cool."
"Sometimes, but it is hard coz I am still forget to check with the computer if I don't know something. We never had anything like that back on Sivao, as we are strongly nomadic. Any more? Baxtor, you don't have to be scared of me. Before you ask how I knew, Sivaoans have a very good smell sense, and I can even detect some emotions based on minute chemical changes, which is great for interrogations."
Baxtor replied, "Sorry, Lt. I have no questions."
"Don't worry."
When MacMillian shook his head, Brightspot stood up, "Okay then. Lets head to the phaser training range on Deck 4. I'll call Lt jg Salt to look after here."
**************************
Entering the phaser range, Brightspot pulled out three Type-II phasers and threw one to each of the cadets.
Grinning, she waited until they were in position before ordering it to start at Level 4.
After eight minutes, the program shutdown and the computer read out the records...
[ Recorded kills by shooter:
Lt to-Srallansre - 128 targets
Cadet Baxtor - 67 targets
Cadet MacMillian - 73 targets ]
Grinning and holding the phaser with her tail, Brightspot wiped her forehead, "That was a good session. Did Commander Sanchez tell you what your duty stations are?"
"Aye, she did, Lt."
Smiling, she nodded, "Okay, in that case, head out and let me know if you have any problems."
"Trip cut short"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price
*** Barolian freighter M'Ran, stopped in Romulan space ***
"HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!!" Doorn laughed boisterously. The Barolian's breath was particularly nasty, probably because of his rotting teeth. It caused Commander Palteth, (that is Captain Price) to turn away to avoid the stench. "What a true statement Colonel!" The engineer caught his breath a moment and noticed Commander Palteth was not talking a whole lot. Slapping the Romulan on the back as a good buddy would a friend, Doorn leaned closer and with Romulan ale & rotten teeth scented breath bellowed, "You certainly are a quiet one Commander!"
Lee could barely stand it. His face itched, he was listening and trying to understand spoken Romulan, his uniform was stiff and weighty on the shoulders, and now this Barolian engineer with bad breath and a decent buzz was treating him like the best man at a wedding. Remembering a phrase from Starfleet Academy oh so many years earlier, Commander Palteth uttered them. Being used to Romulan ale, the drinking hadn't hurt the pronunciation at all. If anything, it helped.
"Better to remain silent and be thought a fool then to open one's mouth and remove all doubt." The Romulan Commander stated.
Doorn glanced at the Commander for a long moment. His eyes were starting to glass over and he wavered slightly while he comprehended the idiom. For a second, Lee thought the Barolian might pass out. But then he blinked and smiled again, showing that collection of tan, brown and black teeth. "HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!! A philosopher! That explains it Commander! HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!!"
Another hard smack wracked Commander Palteth's back from the over friendly engineer. It caused Lee to lean forward a little and the other "Romulans" present could hear the clap of the blow across the room.
"Perhaps we've had enough Romulan ale for one sitting Doorn." Colonel Jarol stated with strong, Romulan conviction. Karyn could tell the Captain was getting pretty beat up on the sofa, having been unfortunate enough to be chosen as the Romulan the Barolian engineer parked his rather rotund carcass next to.
"Nonsense. Why I still have another six bottles of this stuff back in my cabin! One time a group of Nausicaans and I shared four bottles in one sitting. And there were just three of them. I can always get more..." Doorn boasted to the displeasure of the Romulans present.
Before Karyn could mount a Tal'Shair style protest, a communication rang out over the freighter's intercom system.
["Doorn, where are you!"]
The comm system was crude compared to those on board Federation starships. The voice was raspy and crackled with static from the tinny sounding speakers, but it was possible to recognize that the voice sounded like that of Captain Daman's. So the attention of the entire team was quickly glued to every word uttered.
"Uh, I'm visiting with our guests Captain." Doorn replied trying to shake off the effects of the Romulan ale. Of the two bottles he'd brought, the Barolian had easily polished off one full bottle himself and then some. "We are getting to know each other."
["Yes. Well your visit will be cut short I'm afraid. The Romulan warbird MAXIMUS has decloaked in our path. They are demanding that the Romulan guests be transported to their vessel for return to Romulus."] the Barolian captain informed. By the tone, Daman didn't seem too upset, but there was a sense of urgency in his voice, like he wanted to turn the Romulans over to their brothers and get out of Romulan space as quickly as the Barolian freighter M'Ran could take them.
Doorn's expression turned to a pout. "Is that so? Too bad." He stated while smacking his lips and again exposing Commander Palteth to his stinky breath. "Very well. I will see that the guests are escorted to the transporter room. Give me a few minutes."
["You have two. The Romulans are a little impatient. Damon out."] the captain countered in a slightly disciplinary tone to convey the urgency to his sloshed engineer.
It was fortunate that the Barolian was a bit intoxicated. Were his senses sharp he might have noticed the worried glances being exchanged between each of the Romulans on board.
Slapping his thighs, the engineer forced himself to stand up with a scented sigh. "Sorry we have to cut our visit short my friends. I would have liked to open a few more bottles of this wonderful beverage of yours." Doorn said while admiring a near empty bottle of Romulan ale.
"Your hospitality was generous." Major Galathon managed to say in pretty descent Romulan.
Colonel Jarol gave a worried nod. Not knowing what to do and not being able to talk freely to the rest of the team members, Karyn decided to continue perfecting her role as the Tal'Shair leader of this unit.
"If our comrades have dispatched the warbird MAXIMUS to collect us, then things must have intensified on Romulus. We shouldn't delay."
Karyn's speech was flawless, even if it was exactly opposite of what she was truly feeling about beaming into the heart of a Romulan warbird.
Tipping the bottle up to his lips to finish off the last of the sticky ale, Doorn let out a satisfied belch towards Commander Palteth before answering. "Yes, yes. I will take you now. The transporter is not far. Come, follow me please."
The Barolian engineer hoisted up his sagging drawers around his rotund waist and then began to walk, or stagger, towards the exit to the corridor of the freighter.
Exchanging glances, our Starfleet team, disguised as Romulans, quickly gathered their gear and followed closely behind.
They soon reached the transporter room.
"Go on and get onto the platform." Doorn pointed while making his way to the controls.
The transporter pad was an older one. Instead of separate target pads, the entire raised platform was one giant pad with a diameter of about four meters. It looked more like a cargo transporter then a personnel transporter.
Commander Palteth, Sub-Commander Mirok, Major Galathon and Colonel Jarol took up positions about the white glowing platform disk.
Doorn activated the comm system. "Doorn to Captain Damon. Our gu
ests are in position for transport."
["Have them stand by for transport while I notify the MAXIMUS of their coordinates."] Captain Damon ordered over the tinny sounding Barolian communication system.
"Aye captain." The engineer responded while watching his four Romulan friends with a wide smile of his rotting teeth while he scratched his backside to get at an itch.
What seemed like an eternity passed, but actually it was but a few moments while our heroes stood there, on the transporter deck, waiting for the Romulan warbird to beam them over. To say that tensions were high wouldn't do justice to how each member of the covert team of cosmetically altered Starfleet officers felt at that moment.
Then the sound of the Romulan stasis field began to envelope them in preparation for transport.
Doorn continued to scratch deep into his butt crack as he watched the four Romulan officers disappear off the transporter platform. "Transport complete captain." The engineer stated while continuing to dig.
["Good. We are getting the hell out of Empire space. Get up to the bridge Doorn. Right now."] the Captain still sounded worried, like he feared that the MAXIMUS might still destroy the tiny freighter now that they retrieved their officers.
"Okay. On my way." Doorn stated while leaving the controls and heading towards the exit of the transporter room. When he did, Doorn burped once and then removed his hand and began sniffing his fingers for his amusement.
***
*** USS Galaxy, Ten Forward ***
"I don't get it..." specialist Sang stated.
"Okay, okay, okay." Leo stated discarding his bar towel and stepping over to the taller, Asian officer to explain the contents of the padd. "You see this grid is made up of 672 squares. 7 across and 96 down see?"
"Why 96? I don't get it. And why 7?" Sang asked. He was truly confused.
Leo raised his hands up, fingers fanned wide. "I'm getting to that see. Seven is for seven days in a week, you get it?, so across the top here would be days."
Sang gave a slight nod. "Okay. That sort of makes sense I suppose. Then this axis must be time then?"
Leo veined mock surprise. "My god! You must be a genius how quick you catch on here. Yes, that's right, 96 squares down are time. Each square represents 15 minutes in a 24 hour day."
"But the axis aren't labeled." Sang pointed out. "Are these just consecutively numbered or what?..."
"You're sharp. Yes sir. No getting one over on you!" Leo patronized while rolling his eyes secretly at this Starfleet shmuck. "Yousee that's where the game part comes in. Once all of the squares have been filled, there will be a random drawing to decide which columns are what time here and which days here."
"But in that case, I won't know what slots I'm paying for." Sang theorized.
"No, but neither does anyone else. So it's best to buy a lot of squares just to cover your butt." Leo smiled.
"I don't know..." Sang protested.
"Common here! You're busting my chops already for cryinoutloud..." Leo complained. "You can see how many others have bought some squares. You better get in on it now before they are all sold out."
"Sold out?" Sang asked looking at Leo. "What happens then?"
"That's when I draw the numbers to fill out the slots. Then we wait to see what happens." Leo explained.
"What happens if she lasts longer then seven days?" Sang asked.
Leo seemed to get excited. "That's the beautiful part. Okay, okay, okay. See if she lasts past the last day of the week, we roll over the entire pot and make a whole new grid, selling new squares. The pot from this week gets added to the next week, and so on until we have a winner."
Sang frowned. He wasn't sure about this whole idea. While pondering over it, Lieutenant Commander Heather Sanchez came walking into the lounge.
Leo's eyes immediately found the hard bodied hot tamale. "Micas a to casa senorita. What will it be toots?"
Sanchez seemed less then amused with the bartender's greeting, but rather then hassle him, she pointed to the padd and asked, "Is that the pool for von Ernst?"
"You bet your biceps it is sweetheart." Leo stated, snatching the padd back from Sang.
"Hey! I was looking at that." The specialist protested.
Leo placed a hand on Sang's chest and casually pushed him aside as he moved over towards Sanchez with the padd. "You snooze you loose pal. Shesh! Don't be such a whuss."
"Okay, okay, okay. There are still plenty of squares left. But you better buy some quick, 'cause it's filling up pretty fast." Leo explained.
Specialist Sang was watching and feeling a little dejected having been cast aside now that Sanchez had asked about the von Ernst pool.
"How much per square?" Sanchez asked.
"Ten credits each. It runs seven days in fifteen-minute increments. If she lasts past seven days, the pot rolls over into a new pool until she's sacked." Leo grinned.
"Put me down for ten squares." Sanchez stated taking the padd and marking off the boxes she wanted out of those that remained available.
"Just ten? I'd think you'd want more now that COMMANDER Snowflake is your superior officer..." Leo taunted.
Heather's expression grew colder then normal at the very thought. "Okay, make it twenty." She said, marking off the boxes.
Leo crossed his arms in great satisfaction. While rocking up on his toes in a sort of victory stance, he glanced over to Specialist Sang. "See, I told you this thing is filling up fast. If you want to get on the money wagon I suggest you cough over some doe-ray-me and get yourself down for some squares my friend."
Sang watched as Lieutenant Commander Sanchez filled out her twenty squares on the padd. With what was already selected, the pool was more then half full now.
"Here you go." Sanchez stated handing the padd back to Leo.
Streely glanced at it to see what Heather had selected. "Spread things out I see. Played the pools before I take it babe?"
"You could say that. You just better make sure I get some good numbers or there will be hell to pay." Sanchez warned with a pointed finger at the short bartender. She then turned and exited Ten Forward.
"Thanks a lot 'Commander." Leo stated, and then mumbled, "Thanks for nothing you steroid witch."
Finally Leo turned to Specialist Sang. "So yous gonna buy some squares or what?! I don't have all day here. I'm a busy man. Got things to do, places to go. People to meet. Okays?"
Finally Sang decided. "I'll buy one square."
"One... one... one..." Leo stated in disbelief while he sort of turned, semi-pacing and looking around the lounge in disbelief. "One square? What are you nuts or sumthing?! Nobody buys just one frigging square. Whats-da-matter-with-you?"
"Just one square." Sang insisted as he took the padd and marked off a box.
"Okay, okay, okay. Jeesh already. You want to throw your money away on a long shot, who am I to stop you?" Leo criticized while rolling his eyes and waiting impatiently with crossed arms.
Finally Specialist Sang handed the padd back to Leo. "So when will we know who wins?"
"First I need to sell all the squares. Then when that happens I'll draw the numbers and mark them down. You can check for them here at the bar. Then we wait until cadet cloaking-device quits, or otherwise gets removed from the XO spot. Whenever that happens, whoever has the square with the day and time to the nearest fifteen-minute block takes the pot." Leo explained. "Get it?"
Sang nodded. "Got it."
"Great. Now get outta here you weasel, you're scaring away the cute babes already." Leo stated while shooing the lanky Specialist away with his hands.
When Sang left, Leo took the padd and smiled before scanning the patrons in Ten Forward for more suckers, err, players, to buy into his von Ernst fails as XO pool. He only needed another three hundred and thirty two squares to have the game full. Spotting a likely group of candidates, Leo wrung his hands together, then grabbed his padd and approached their table.
Bhrode's bridge
By Lcdr Navarre - Maxwell Shinta
Shinta was busy with her files when mike's message came through, calling her to the bridge. Now that was something she hadn't done very often. Usually Karyn took care of bridge duty, or Mike. She had done a little at very quiet times. But this was the middle of the day.
Yet making a bad impression would be even worse, so she hurried towards the bridge. And actually made it there in record time. Shinta looked around, making sure that her face was composed, and that outwardly she was very calm.
The captain was sitting in his chair. He looked very calm and normal, yet this was the man who had cost her her position, and who probably had a very bad impression of her. And she would have to sit right next to him. Somehow that made all color leave her face.
She walked over to her own chair.
"Good afternoon, sir." With that she sat down and stared straight ahead, utterly composed outwardly. But in her head already counting the seconds until she could leave here again.
((This is a post about Autumn's Parents deaths and it is set in the past.))
“Confrontation: Part one.”
By Benton and Lois Jamieson, Autumn’s parents.
The past: **Mid way through 2377**
Benton opened the door to his house and called out. “Lois! Honey we need to talk.” His wife stuck her head from around the wall that blocked the kitchen from the lounge room.
“About?”
“Xavier.”
“Oh.”
“He knows. Liana died yesterday and before she did she told him who his father was. She dies of injuries sustained when she jumped out the window. Suicide.” Lois sat down on a chair and took her husband’s hand. “And he has told you about it?” Benton nodded. “Yes. He confronted me today about it and demanded why I had never told him.” “Benton… you know why we never told him…. If Autumn had found out… she would have had a fit…. Oh Benton… you didn’t…” “NO of course not. Autumn is my heir and always will be, no way in hell would I do that to our daughter. She is the heir and no matter what Xavier will never take over the company. Ross has been sworn to secrecy about the subject.” “She will find out you know. Autumn isn’t blind, it will only take a slip by one of us and She’ll know.” “But for now she is safe on the Galaxy having fun and doing her job. She will not find out until after I have dealt with the situation.” “Oh I think I’ll deal with it now.” Came a smooth voice from the doorway.
Tbc...
Beta shift sure looked different. Maybe it was because Seth wasn't use to being up at this hour. It was more likely he wasn't use to standing on the bridge.
With one eye glued to the door the lizard took in the sights. Most noticable was the white light flooding the room. A big contrast to the bowels of the ship which always seemed dark.
Looking around the gorn noticed the blue and green of the consoles. Everyone had displays of some sort or other. Each facinating to the user. The security console was actually quite dull. A blueprint of the ship with area highlighted if there was an intruder a light would blink. Very exciting.
The people where much more colourful. Blue uniforms for science officers. Red for the command staff. There was even some yellow from the Tactical and Ops. Seth provided the bigest chunk of green without his uniform on.
On the view screen the brown of methane gas was curtained with grey static interferance. The only thing mission was a spash of purple.
The smell seemed different up here as well. As the lizards tongue sniffed the air he thought thing even smelled newer and brighter.
The gorn was use to standing still for long periods of time. He was the best at it in the entire ship. Only the trees in the arboritum could match, but they bent once in a while with artifical wind.
While standing there the only thing on Seth's mind was watching the turbo lift to make sure the bridge was secure. For a brief second he pondered something else but dismissed it.
It was up to the captain, XO or chief to to worry about how he would stay on the bridge until 0130 and still make it to the security office for 0100.
NRPG: Takes place the night prior to "Rebecca: Unavoidable Destiny"
"Discussion Between Friends and Neighbors"
By Lieutenant Rose Isis MacAllen, Science Officer AND Lieutenant Electra Reece, Chief of Operations
Guest Starring:
Victoria and Elizabeth Williamson, Rose's Betazoid twin goddaughters Sarah Mary Macfarland, Rose's Human goddaughter
**Ten-Forward**
Lexa entered the bar, tired from her long shift and bad night's sleep. As she looked around she spotted a table with a great view. Ordering her drink, a Scotch on the rocks, she walked towards the window, beautiful colors swirling through-out the nebula as the ship navigates through it. She sat down and contemplated this view of eternity, trying to relax and let go of her resentments and mental pains. She tried not to think about the fact that those swirling colors were caused by radiation eddies that could melt her skin and kill her in a most painful way if the shield modifications didn't work. She finished her drink quickly and the waiter came over.
"Bring me three more, please, doubles." The man's eyes widened as he walked over to the bartender (not Leo). "Three more Scotch on the rocks, doubles, this time." As the man poured the drinks he eyed the waiter. "All for her?" At the nod, he shook his head. "Seen a lot of that today. This new captain and his stupid policies. This crew's gonna turn itself into drunks and depressives before this mission's over, just you watch. 'Lessen he gets himself blown up first." The waiter nodded and headed off to give the tall department head her drinks. She downed two in as many minutes and nursed the third, allowing the syntheholic haze to envelop her senses. Though she knew it could be shaken off with very little effort, she had no interest in doing so. She heard some people behind her talking about the new captain and his choices and she laughed under her breath.
Rose, Victoria, Elizabeth, and Sarah sat in Ten-Forward talking about what had been going on with the ship since Price and many of the other senior officers were re-assigned for an unknown reason, and of course Rose feels very fishy about this.
"I still don't like the pick for Second Officer, she's not command type." Elizabeth said in an outspoken manner. Victoria and her parents are very much command type people. Their mother is a Second Officer and their father is a Chief Medical Officer.
Rose rolled her eyes a little, "Give the poor woman a chance, she just started."
Turning from her contemplation of the nebula, Lexa commented, "She's a great person, but if she ever makes the middle chair, she'll kill her crew, one by one, and other ships, too. Just you wasch -- um -- wash -- er -- w-w-watch and shee -- see." Nodding her head, repeatedly throughout her comments, Electra smiled at the other table. She knew Rose slightly, but the others she didn't recall. "Hi, I'm E-lec-tra Reece," she pronounced slowly and carefully, "I'm chief of OPS and off-duty at lahst -- last, right now." Her hand not holding the glass of Scotch reached towards them.
"Hello, I'm Victoria Williamson and this is my twin sister Elizabeth, we're 13 years old," the young red hair Betazoid said with a smile, before looking over to a blond haired, blue eyed girl who is the same age as the twins.
"I'm Sarah Mary Macfarland!" the young girl said in an strong Welsh accent.
"Pleased to meet you, ladies. Are you enjoying the view of the nebula?"
Ignoring the question one of the girls spoke, "I met the old Captain." Elizabeth said while eating her ice cream slowly.
"Captain Price was a great man. Great," slurred Lexa. She sighed. "Very different from Captain Brhode. Very different."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry I'm so ... off ... girls but it has been a difficult day. Strange times, we live in on th
is ship. History making, for sure. But do we go to honor or destruction? Heaven or hell? Glory or death? Or both?" Lexa drunkenly mused on these mysteries of time and life.
Rose grinned at her new friend, "Little of both I guess, but I find something...I don't trust the new Captain in some way."
"Hmmmmm. Don't like him, yeah. Trust him? Maybe. Follow him? Of course. He's captain. Hasn't killed us yet. Jerk? To me, definitely. Different from Price? No doubt about it. Life is about changes. To every thing there is a season. A time to mourn, a time to weep, a time to smile, a time to laugh, a time to work under someone you aren't sure about and who doesn't like you. Fatalistic attitude? If you say so. Can't win for losing. He's batting a thousand at getting people to hate him. It's a catch-22. He isn't Price, can't be, he's him, but if he tries to be someone else, he loses himself, if he tries to be himself, he loses the crew. Can't be all bad. Just overwhelming changes. Change, change, change. All of creation changes with each sunrise and sunset. No one stays the same. All grow. All know. Finding our place, different every breath, is the meaning of life. Finding where we are supposed to be, doing what we are meant to do, learning from each other, following the path to the end of the road. But it isn't an end. It's a new beginning. Come what may, we tumble through the waves, searching for home, for meaning, for life, for love." Lexa continued her rambling monologue, caught up in her own internal processes, her tongue freed by the effects of the Scotch.
The central computer shut down non-essential systems like communications before losing all power. Blackness swirled across the viewscreen blotting out the four at the next table. Inertial dampeners failed and the bridge hit the table with a thunk.
All four of the young women jumped up from there chairs. While the thirteen years olds started giggling, their godmother tried to carry her friend back to her cabin.
"Come on girls, we need to get her back to her cabin," the young Betazoid lieutenant said to her three of many godchildren.
The three girls helped to maneuver the semi-conscious woman through the corridors to her cabin. They entered and placed her on her bed. Before leaving, the younger girls still giggling, Rose set an alarm so Lexa would not be late the next day. She herded her charges out of the room, locking the door and out into the corridor. "She's right about one thing," she said. The girls looked at her. "There have been too many changes to handle lately."
The four made their way slowly back to their rooms, Rose continuously thinking about what had happened lately and how it could be dealt with without reaching any definitive answers.
"Yet More...Voices From the Deeps"
Lt.Cmdr Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley, Chief Tactical Officer USS GALAXY
(References to the yet unreleased 'Phasers?' post. Ohhhhhh TP???)
Unauthorized use of ALPHA shift characters and Department Chiefs.
(Blame it on Bhrode, this post has to go out today!)
**************************************************************************
(1000 hours, Main Bridge)
Lysander stared at himself in the reflective mirror. He looked older. Wiser. More responsible. Scared.
The face looking back wasn't really different. What was different were the two gold pips and the silver ringed black third pip of a breveted Lieutenant Commander.
The turbo lift doors swooshed open and Lysander walked onto the Main Bridge. It was the start of his first shift as Chief Tactical Officer. His ID code had been relayed to the Security Detail Officer, so he wasn't stunned and thrown in the brig. Today. He had business up here.
Lockhart had somehow managed to convince Bosco to switch stations. No doubt Lockhart was slouching down on the Battle Bridge right now, while Bosco took the Main Bridge. Some people would do anything to get out of actual work.
As Lysander approached the Arch, Bosco's ears flattened in surprise as he took in the new hardware. Rebecca's appointment as First Officer had been trumpeted shipwide by the Captain. Lysander's promotion had been announced quietly, in this morning's Orders.
"I'll talk to you later, Ensign, Report please." Lysander said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. Bosco looked SO shocked! Almost as shocked as the time he'd discovered Sanchez in the women's showers and barely escaped being drowned.
"Yes...Sirrrrrrrrr. Everrrrything norrrrmal durrrring GAMMA shift. Engineerrrrrring finished the rrrrrrepairrrrrss to the LCARRRRRSSS durrring the ships 'night' and contrrrrrol is rrrreturrrrrned to Main Brrridge." Bosco purred out. He was already planning the party he was going to throw for Lysander's promotion.
"Thank you Lieutenant. You are relieved. Please initiate the Level 4 diagnostic of Tactical systems and alert Battle Bridge to hand over Tactical subsystems to their relief." Lysander intoned with a deadpan face.
"Aye Aye. Switching contrrrrol over to...did you just addrrress me as Lieutenant?" Bosco demanded, with a nervous twitch of his ears.
"Thank you Lieutenant. I have the Arch. Check this morning's orders. Rebecca finally got around to approving Kincaid's promotion of Alexa, and she included you." Lysander slipped his best friend aboard ship one of his old gold Ell-Tee Juniors pips as he shook his hand-paw. The silver version of the same black pip glinted on Lysander's collar.
For once in his long and checkered life, Bosco didn't know what to say. He slinked off the Bridge, no doubt to curl up somewhere to nap and dream of how the girls would admire his promotion.
Lysander watched Bhrode settle into the Command Chair, tugging his tunic down in that autonomic habit of his.
"All stations, report by the numbers." barked out the Old Man.
"Ops normal, all power systems running in Cruise mode outputs, no damage to report. Informed Shuttle 'Michigan' of ETA. Shuttle 'Ohio' not answering hails, Captain, possible interferance from Mako Nebula." sang out Electra Reese.
"Flight Ops, Helm steady, estimate arrival back to the Mako Nebula in one hour, fifty six minutes at current cruising speed, Captain." reported the Chief, no doubt dreaming of dragon headed reaver ships spreading carnage and terror behind them.
"Tactical, all weapons secured. No threats at this time. Three sensor contacts of asteroids, longe range scans show them plotted on Celestial charts already, Stellar Cartography was notified at 0200 and 0500 hours." Lysander read off his displays.
"Engineering. We flushed that bug out of the ODN relays as requested Captain. Nine hours and Twenty Two minutes before Command was transferred from Battle Bridge back to Main Bridge. Engine diagnostics are still ongoing, to repair stresses from the Warp 9 run. Suder out." Commander Suder had sounded a bit terse. Probally because he and his crews had spent the whole night up working overtime to repair the damage to the ODN sensor relays caused by the 'saboteur' Having Captain Bhrode breathing down their necks hadn't improved any of the moods in Engineering.
"Sciences. Nothing to report. Navigational maps of this sector being updated from sensor sweeps. Debris field marked as Navigational Hazard and coordinates will be forwarded to StarFleet Celestial Registry, when we get within range of the nest subspace booster relay." Reported Wilhelm, still wearing the goofy smile of a newly married man.
Bhrode merely grunted and tugged his tunic some more. Every head on the bridge turned away from him and looked back to their work.
Alpha shifts were going to be Looooooong...thought Lysander to himself. He busied himself reading the day's Orders and trying to digest the reality of Rebecca as First Officer.
**************************************************************************
(1125 hours Main Bridge)
There...it was flickering again.
Lysander stared hard at the upper left corner of his Tactical Arch, where the COMM relays were. Maybe Suder and Odin hadn't been able to find the buggity-boos in all the relays after all? Though the problem had been with the Phaser Arrays external Hull sensors, and not...
Lysander switched the signal over to Electra, for her to confirm it as well, before he realized what it was. As she spun to look at him in amazement, the intermittant contact fluttered on her station as well, Lysander sprang to action.
"Captain. Intermittant Subspace Comm message on Federation Emergency Channel Beta-Seven!" Lysander's fingers flew, trying to stabilize the signal.
"Main Viewer." barked out Bhrode.
"Audio only Sir...trying to stabilize...it's gone Sir. We're pretty far from the nearest Comm Relay beacon...it must be originating in the opposite direction...Nebula's playing hell with signal integrity... Playing back.." Electra Reese chanted from her OPS station.
The voice must have travelled across untold distances. In a remote sector like this one, the only relay beacons were those left behind by ships like GALAXY. The Fleet would come later and set up the chains of unmanned and manned communications relay centers. It was lucky that Galaxy had caught the whisper, amidst the chaos and fury of the electromagnetic storm that was the Mako Nebula.
"(skrrrritchhhhhh POP)anyone....repeat...(skritch)ttacked by (Whhheeeeeeeuuurrrrp) and they've broken in...it's (pop)vasion. We've been invaded.(Skrritch) Help us, please...help us...Anyone receiving this...please...(WHUURRRNK)"
"Location? ID?" Bhrode all but shouted.
"Negatory ID, hailing packets distorted by Nebula ionic action. Location estimated at...asteroid belt, three light years past outer limits of Mako Nebula. Sir, there's no record of anything ever having been out there by us. Survey crews ran through it when skirting the Nebula, no contacts logged." Lysander reported.
"RED ALERT" shouted Bhrode. "Flight Ops, get the heading and mark from Tactical, full emergency speed on that course. All sensors sweep on our way in. I'll be damned if whoever blew that freighter can invade a base while John Bhrode is on the watchtower!"
Lysander slammed down the RED ALERT verify, and waited for the klaxons before he asked the Captain something that had been niggling.
"Sir! Whoever or whatever this Threat Force is, seems to be taking advantage of the erratic nature of our Subspace Comm relays out here. Permission to ready and launch a Mark Six probe as a temporary Relay Beacon?"
"Make it so. Not bad Mister. Somebody tell the shuttle crews we'll be back to pick them up, they're to continue their mapping duties until then. NO. Belay that. Tell Grant-Wellington she's to backtrack on Remmington's course and locate that other shuttle." Bhrode snapped off the orders, each word being almost spit out like a bullet.
Behind Lysander, the turbo lift doors opend and spit out the slender, redhaired form he hadn't really wanted to see.
"WHERE THE BLUE NOVAS IS...oh. Sit Commander." Bhrode settled back into his chair and bent his head in close consult with Rebecca.
Lysander watched the Level 4 diagnostic replies on his Tactical systems with one eye, as he kept the other on the profile of the First Officer.
Smeggin' Princess.
"Listening to Leo?"
By Lieutenant Electra Reece
Chief Operations Officer
With an authorized and approved appearance by Leo Streely, NPC bartender
Location: Ten Forward
Lexa strolled up to the bar and sat down on a stool. She was exhausted. Recent days had been mentally and physically draining and she needed to unwind.
Apparently, this was a widely held idea on the ship, as the lounge was packed. Nearly all of the tables were taken and there were only two other empty seats at the bar. This was not even counting the groups of three or four standing around, near the windows, by the door, at the end of the bar, and by various tables. Tensions had been running high and everyone needed their down time to release the powerful atmosphere. And the fact that holodecks were off limits made the gymnasiums packed which left the lounges as relaxation areas. And the crew knew it and was taking advantage of being on such a luxurious ship.
As she mused on these facts, Leo Streely walked down the bar to take her order. "Heya sweets! What'll it be, huh? What'll I make ya today? Maybe a Leo special? Just don't tell Crazy Corgan, yeah?" He grinned salaciously.
Rolling her expressive eyes at his posturing, she shook her head. "No thanks, Leo. But I will have an Camerain Fizz. I need something sweet."
"Hey! I can be sweet. Sweetness and light to the neck, that's Leo! Well .... mostly, babe. One place below the neck isn't so light. It's heavy. Just for you." He winked as his hands sped over the bottles, making the drink. "But it can be real sweet. At least, so I've been told. The ladies love my sweet, heavy self. What ya say?" He placed the drink in front of her.
"Thanks anyway, Leo. Find someone else, okay? I just wanted a drink." She lifted the glass in a salute and sipped at it, the nectar-like taste overwhelming her taste buds before the bubbles shot around her mouth. "You make a great drink, Leo."
"It's my job, babe. Best bartender in the fleet. I'm best at lots of things. I'm a hero, babe. Just ask Raven. He's my best bud," he shot her a look, "we're not like Sansky, don't go there, but Raven'll tell ya! I saved the universe from Changelings and vampires and all kinds of stuff. And I'll save us all from Brhode. I think he might be a Changeling or something weird himself. Here to get at the Federation from inside. He tried to have me put off the ship, ya know. He threw me in the brig, 'cause I knew the truth. I know he's up to no good. No good, I tell ya. But Raven got me out. Now, I just gotta figure out how to stop him and get the General back. Price knew what was what, ya know. He's the one who insisted I be on the ship. He knew you all need me." Leo grinned and nodded as Lexa sipped her drink and sighed at his histrionics. She didn't believe anything he was saying, but she was brought up to be polite in all things, so she let him ramble on.
"Once I get Price back, he'll fix things. Yep. He'll fix old Brhode. Tell him what's what. Explain the facts of life to him," he looked at her sideways, "No, not those facts, Price ain't like that, and well ... maybe Brhode ... that could be what's the matter there. Hmmm. Yeah. Sansky couldn't infiltrate the ship. He was too low on the totem pole, but a new captain. Hey, yeah! That could be it!" Leo brightened. "Or maybe it could be ..."
Lexa interrupted, "Leo, could you make me another Fizz?"
Leo nodded. As he began taking out the bottles again, he spoke once more, "So, what's the mood on the bridge? Worried I bet. With Brhode in the captain's seat and von Ernst a commander and in the right hand chair. Man, I didn't like Commander Thomas, but von Ernst? Whoa! I hear things, ya know. People tell me stuff and you wouldn't believe what she's done. She went berserk and killed people on a crippled starship to repulse a Borg invasion and she tried to kill Picard and she probably brainwashed Brhode or maybe she's one of his tools, yeah. Like that admiral who likes her, and he wants Brhode to help her so she can kill more people. I hear things." He place the glass in front of her and reached under the bar again.
"Speaking of von Ernst, I just happen to have a little pool going on. It's going fast. I think ya should get some of the action while it lasts. When will she crack and resign as first officer or otherwise be removed from the position. Long shot is on Brhode realizing what a nut she is and reversing his prior orders. Come on, take a bet. Spots are going fast."
Leo smiled his huckster's smile. Lexa's eyes blazed with inner fire. This was outside of enough! Her upbringing was urging her to walk away but her instincts were urging something else altogether. As he explained the pool, they battled. Finally, one side prevailed. She lifted her Fizz and flung the nearly full glass in the short bartender's face. "You flaming jerk-off! Rebecca von Ernst is a better person than you'll ever be! And she happens to be my friend! This pool is shameful and disgraceful! You spread evil rumors and innuendo, not knowing the first thing about what you're talking about and now you try to undermine Rebecca by creating this foolishness. So, she's not perfect officer material! So what? She still has feelings! Unlike some bastards I could name. Unlike you!"
She spun on her heel and left the lounge, stalking down the corridors, a sputtering Leo Streely wiping fizz from his face.
"Homework"
Starring Commander Rebecca von Ernst
DECK 5
[..FOLLOWING GRADUATION IN 2372 IN THE TOP THIRD OF HIS CLASS, ENSIGN MERRYWEATHER WAS ASSIGNED TO THE DEEP SPACE EXPLORER ULYSSES WHERE HE WAS EVENTUALLY PROMOTED TO FULL LIEUTENANT IN 2375 WHEREUPON LT MERRYWEATHER APPLIED FOR TRANSFER TO THE USS GALAXY. ACCEPTED IN 2376 AND ASSIGNED TO THE.....]
"Computer pause program."
[BLEEP.PROGRAM PAUSED]
With an exhausted sigh of frustration Rebecca von Ernst collapsed backwards onto her PADD strewn bed with a soft plop.
~~~Egads what time is it? 0500 ? Noodles I'll never get this done.~~~
For the last few hours the petite new XO had been huddled atop her covers reviewing the rather lengthy crew bios of all those aboard the Galaxy, and despite her gifted memory, even she was beginning to get mixed up.
The problem wasn't in remembering the stuff. Once she sees it, its in there. The difficulty lay in her typical scatter-brained approach to everything so that the RETRIEVAL of information was problematic at best.
Laying amidst the PADDS, Rebecca stretched her cramped limbs slowly, enjoying the feel of tension releasing from her body. She was all bundled up in a new pair of thick flannel pajamas, and her warm blanket beneath her was one of the fluffiest in known space. (Honest)
~~~Oooohhh..Noodles on a bun.~~~ she yawned while stretching. ~~~I haven't had this much homework since the Academy!~~~
Being XO was not all it was cracked up to be. Aside from the virtual Library of new policies and procedures that had to be memorized, there was the endless parade of crew efficiency reports, and biographies to review. If Rebecca thought the paperwork was overwhelming for her paltry Tactical Department, the management and oversight of a crew of 1000 was quite an eye-opener. And so it was she elected to rise early today and attempt to pour over the required reading.
The interior of Rebecca's small Deck 5 cabin showed the aftermath of her early morning Study sessions. Two empty cups of hot co-co sat stacked next to a third that was still half-full and steaming. A solitary bowl containing the soggy remnants of milk and Cornflakes lay at the foot of her bed amongst a collection of PADDS that had slipped off round about 0430.
A full data-cube detailing Starship Emergency Procedures sat unused near a desktop viewer.
~~~That's for tomorrow night~~~ Rebecca mused half-closing her eyes in weariness, and enjoying the plushness of her bed. She was so tired that she didn't even mind the sharp corner of a PADD jabbing her in the back somewhere.
~~~Just..a..little....sleep...~~~~ she dozed.
^^^^^^^^^^
Bolting upright with a gasp of surprise, Rebecca was horrified to discover she had fallen asleep.
"COMPUTER!" she snapped, "State current time!"
[CURRENT TIME IS 0645 SHIP STANDARD]
"Oh heck!!" Rebecca cursed, "I'm late for PT!!"
Flying off the bed in the midst of a cloud of clattering PADDS, Rebecca hit the carpet dashing for the closet.
~~~Noodles oh noodles oh noodles~~~ she fretted as she threw open the doors to reveal her typical tangle of wrinkled uniforms. Struggling with the top buttons on her pajamas, Rebecca scanned the closet and wondered which devilish environment Sanchez was going to choose for them today.
A few weeks ago poor Rebecca had arrived at the holodeck attired in simple shorts and a T-Shirt only to learn they were running the Ice Asteroid of Rura Penthe'. A few weeks before that a sweaty Rebecca clad in full sweats and flannel underwear had suffered across the hell of Death Valley on Earth, cursing every step of the way.
Flinging off her top and unconsciously crossing her skinny arms across her torso in modesty, Rebecca chewed her bottom lip in frustration.
~~~Which outfit to choose ? Maybe a double layer, that I could remove if she runs us across the desert again? Oh heck what's Tactical in for today...?~~~
Rebecca stopped in mid thought.
~~~Tactical?~~~
Her jaw dropped and a slow grin crossed her freckled cheeks as she suddenly realized.
~~~I'm not IN tactical anymore.~~~
A girlish squeal of sheer pleasure escaped from Rebecca' s lips and she gave a few little hops about the room in excitement, always careful to keep her arms properly covering her flat freckled chest.
(OOC: She's extreeeeemly modest okay? Even in her own room.)
Giggling softly (so as to not wake the neighbors) Rebecca quickly recovered her PJ top and climbed back aboard her bedcovers. The PADDS clattered and shifted with her movements, and indeed the whole Engineering section slid to the floor with a crash, but she ignored it blissfully.
TWO HOURS until her scheduled shift now. TWOHOURS to Sleep!
The PADDS seemed to rustle of their own accord.
~~~Or maybe not..~~~
Rebecca sat atop her bed looking at the mountains of information about her still waiting to be digested. Captain Brhode didn't expect the impossible, just pretty darn close to it.
She'd be reviewing these crew bios for weeks to come, but she still wanted to get a good handle on what running this ship was all about, and more importantly.who these people were that were running the ship.
~~~Might as well try to remember peoples faces.~~~
"Computer," she ordered whilst picking up a random PADD. "Please download to this PADD a randomly generated crew image for me to identify."
[WORKING]
The somber faced image of a Terran Male appeared on the PADD.
"Ummmm.." Rebecca scrunched her nose, "Ensign John.no wait..James Osorio..Science Department. Right?"
[CORRECT. NEXT IMAGE]
This time a pasty faced Benzitemale appeared.
"Urmmm...hmmmm. I don't think I know him." Rebecca sighed and reached for her rapidly cooling Coco., "I give up Computer."
[ENSIGN MURDOC.PHOTON ENGINNERING SPECIALIST.]
"Och, Engineering." Rebecca glanced about the bed looking for that particular stack of PADDS, "I don't think I have read those yet.next image please."
Another Terran Male
"Ha! James Corgan. Security..I mean OPS..easy one."
A Vulcan female
"Lieutenant T'Lil.Science."
A Vulcan Male
"Lieutenat j/g Korval T'Chal..also Science" Rebecca knew her Vulcans
An Andorian Male.
"Noodles..don't know him..skip it."
A Human Male.
Rebecca froze.
"Oh noodles...him."
She sat staring into the smirking image of one Lysander van der Puls Hawksley. His roguish arrogance was apparent even in this little holo.
Sighing she identified him for the computer and went on. ~~~At least I don't have to put up with his shenanigans anymore.~~~ she sighed.
A Terran Male
"Lieutenat Petrov Androvich.Geriatrics." ~~~I mean the nerve of that guy.always calling me 'Princess Phaserbanks" and stuff~~~
A Ferengi Male
"Quartermaster Zuk." ~~~All that time I had to put up with him at 359..~~~
A Terran Female
"Don't know..skip her." ~~~And then..that DRESS!! What the noodles am I supposed to do about that!?~~~
A green glob of slime.gender unknown.
"Lieutenant GLL'rrrbish..Diplomatic Attache" ~~~And what the heck is a 'SMEG' anyways? It sounds vulgar."
A Terran Female
Rebecca paused again.
Staring up from the PADD was the slightly blurred image of a skinny young Redheaded female with a pert freckled nose and a slight blush in her cheeks. The pips at her collar indicated someone of the mere Rank of Ensign, but Rebecca knew that was because of her rapid rate of promotion that the official photo had yet to be updated.
The girlk in the picture was a shy quiet creature, a lover of life that wouldn't harm a fly, and never dreamed of raising her authority over anybody. The girl in the picture was of someone content to quietly let events pass her by, determined never to take chances, nor stand in the limelight.
Staring down at her own image, Rebecca felt a strange tightness in her chest, and a small catch in her breathing. ~~~What have I become?~~~ She wondered.
Speaking aloud she informed the computer, "I don't know who this person is Computer..next image please..."
“Thoughts On Beta Shift”
By Lt (jg) Autumn Quevvenson, ACMO
Ensign Mei Xiao Yin, Flight control Officer
Autumn stood in medical bay during Beta shift. She had been getting into the habit of doing two shifts and working in Gamma as well as beta. It only gave her two shifts to spend time with Wilhem but for now that was going to have to do. Sansky had left and Autumn had sighed with relief when he had gone. His time in the Galaxy medical department had given them a bad name. Assaulting a superior officer was the worst thing for anyone to do but when a DOCTOR did it .. well he ended up further blackballed in Autumn’s opinion. She moved over to the ensign waiting for her physical.
The ensign Mei Xiao Yin was a half Romulan half human and had been experiencing rather harsh mood swings. They had started during the Galaxy’s last mission, which to Autumn’s own mind was understandable. Mei had a history of mood swings and normally exercised to keep them calmed down. After a short exam Autumn sighed and diagnosed the girl with being pregnant.
“Mei I think you should be a bit more careful next time you get the urge to have sex with any male on this ship” She said softly. Mei nodded and hopped off the bio bed. “I shall in form the father immediately.” “That might be wise” Autumn replied and watched the woman walk out the door.
What was it with this ship… It was like a flying nursery and it was getting out of hand.
She had recommended full physicals for the entire crew and full mental evaluations had been recommended as well. Sighing she knew that she was putting off her mental exam and she hated the physicals. With this new mission most of the crew had already completed theirs. Sighing again she moved onto her next patient.
**Later in her office**
Autumn leant back in her chair and stared about her office. Unerringly her eyes landed on the spot where she had been cornered by Vlad. Deep down she shuddered and she shut her eyes to block it out. She had managed to keep some secrets in her mind, buried deep where Wilhem wouldn’t find them. Concerns about her own mind after the attack and it hurt to keep them but she didn’t want him to know about them at all. She knew that he would support her in anyway but this was a problem that she wanted to keep to herself and work it out by herself. It was getting harder though and the dreams were creping closer to the surface beyond the barrier she had repressed them beneath.
Opening her eyes she let her eyes fall on the pile of reports that sat on her desk. Work would help block it out until she could talk about what was bothering her. She glanced at her chrono and smiled as she saw that Beta shift was over and Gamma was busy in the medical bay.It was time to get home to Wil.
"Girl talk"
by Lt j/g Alia Drakely and Ensign Arel Smith *takes place before "God, WHY?"
Talking to people was just something that Arel did not do well. She understood this fact of life, accepted it, and moved on, convinced that she had other qualities that made up for it, or other flaws that were of more important note.
Alia Drakely, however, was probably the closest thing Arel had as a friend and right now Alia looked mad enough to take out a Klingon warrior in his prime. Arel had read somewhere that communication was very important in friendships and that Alia would probably want to talk to someone at times of stress. It was also important not to talk about the weather, whatever that meant.
Arel couldn't think of any way to start a conversation politely. She could think of some un polite ways but Alia didn't really look like she was in the mood to be thrown against a bulkhead.
After minutes of thinking, which admittedly hurt her head if the subject was foreign enough, or came in the form of eight year old children, she blurted-
"So, why aren't you supposed to talk about the weather?"
Her head snapping up, Alia blinked at Arel. No doubt she had some train of thought going, but what in the universe was she up to? "The weather?" Alia repeated with a blank shake of the head, "I'm sorry, Arel, but I have no idea what you're talking about." She looked at her inquiringly, waiting for her to continue whatever thought it was that had provoked such an odd question.
Arel mumbled something about conversation starters.
Alia raised her eyebrow "Are you trying to start a girl talk, Arel?"
She felt her face flush "Of course not." she snapped at Alia.
Alia's features softened slightly, "Everything alright, Arel? Got something you want to talk about?" She asked, feeling a little apprehensive - she wasn't exactly the best person in the universe for this kind of thing, but she'd give it a go if there was something up with Arel.
Arel looked suspiciously at Alia for a moment, then looked confused, and then finaly settled on an amused expression, giving a short exhale that could have been considered a laugh. "I was...concerned about you." she replied.
Alia simply looked at Arel for a moment, "Thank you." She said genuinely. And then she snapped out of the soft moment. "I'm just...angry. That's all. I'm sure you know what that's like."
If there was one human emotion that Arel could understand, it was anger. "I could remove the source of your anger if you like." she offered casually. It was the least a friend could do, at least on Quo'nos.
Alia chuckled slightly, "Then, my friend, you would have to slaughter a good many men on this ship." Alia physically grimaced as she remembered the way that the men on duty had sniggered at her. "I mean, at first, it wasn't so bad, I can appreciate a joke as well as the next person, but when it gets to physicality, I draw the line. I know they think it's just a joke, they mean no harm, but I would like to be able to go to work without a man slithering up beside me and treating me like...treating me like...like..." She could only finish by bringing a fist down hard onto the surface. Telling herself she needed to calm, she took a deep breath in...and out...and then looked up in apology to Arel. "Sorry."
Arel shrugged but made a metal note to have a talk with the men on their shift. "Would you like to train?" she asked Alia, unsure that she would be able to give any other comfort besides letting her swing a sword at someone.
A slow grin spread across Alia's features, "You know me far too well...come on then, prepare yourself for defeat..." Alia threw Arel a sly glance.
Dr. Andree Dothan
Reviewed By Joe Ammo, (Playing Capt. Bhrode) -----
Andree was in his office, Filing away old medical records and reports, when the call to general quarters came in. "Computer, Save session, and de-activate terminal."
As he stood up he surveyed sickbay from his office. Medics were gathering outside his door, as doctors finished their exams and sent their patients on their way.
"Computer, open speech to text link with Ops Console"
"Ready"
"Dr. Andree Dothan, requests information on alert status" He figured he didn't want to distract the captain if he was in the middle of something important or dangerous.
*****
The Ops office
r of the watch, saw the incoming message, and decided to interrupt the captain, who at the moment didn't seem to be doing anything.
"Captain, Dr. Dothan wants to know if you have any orders for him"
"Patch him through" Bhrode ordered.
The Ops Officer gave Bhrode a silent cue that he was on
"Bhrode here." he replied in his normal to-the-point manner.
"Captain," the Trill began, a little nervous, "Should the Medical teams be prepared for anything specific, Sir?"
"We may have injured or desceased of an as yet undetermined species, Doctor. If that's the case we will need to have medics ready to beam over and render assistance." the Captain replied.
"I'll get right on it sir. Do we have an ETA?"
"Helm, Report," Bhrode said, passing the ball to Quevenson at the helm.
"90 Minutes," Sir, Mikala replied.
"Sickbay will be standing by Sir."
“De-stressing.”
By Lt jg Autumn Quevvenson, ACMO
And Ensign Sara McPherson,medical officer
****** GYM *******
Autumn stood in the gym studying the boxing bag in front of her. Her hands were protected by the thick boxing gloves and she had been bashing away at the bag for over an hour now. Sara stood beside her boss wondering what had made the normally relaxed Lieutenant want to bash the bag to pieces. Autumn swung a fist at the bag again and Sara went back to her job of holding it. “You know boss..” Sara grunted out as Autumn’s fists pounded the bag. “I think you need a holiday.” “You.. Don’t …say… Sara.” Autumn muttered as she slowly began to feel better. “But you try taking a break when the ship is going nuts.” Sara leaned forward and said quietly. “I hear Leo has a pool going on how long Rebecca stays XO without screwing up.” Autumn grunted. “Really… maybe he should be doing a pool on wether or not she’ll kill us.. or how long it takes for the crew to mutiny…. Or how many women are pregnant on this ship.” Sara laughed. “Good one Boss.” Autumn used her fore arm to push sweat dammed bangs from her face and gave a small smile. “I am serious Sara. The pregnancy rate on this ship is amazing. I think it’s the crew working off all the added hormones from the vamps.” Sara grinned as the pounding began again. “Well we’ll see.. I put enough money to take ten squares scattered out.” Autumn sighed. “It is undignified for officers to bet on the performance of others... Where did you say Leo has that pool?” Sara giggled. “So much for undignified. Ten forward.” “Remind me to do it after this ok?”
“Gotcha.”
And the de-stressing continued.
"Phaserrrrs? We Doan Need No Steennkeennn Phasers..."
Joint post by
CMDR Rebecca vonErnst, newly minted Executive Officer
LtCmdr Eric Odin, Asst. Chief Engineer
Lt.j/g Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley, Chief Tactical Officer
PO1 Tim Mirapoints (NPC) Senior Phaser Diagnostic Technician
With help from Norbert in the form of checking Bhrode for canonical accuracy and realistic controlled fury.
**********************************************************************
Lysander glanced at Chief Mirapoints out of the corner of his eye. The Chief was using the turbolift ride to make sure his uniform was clean and orderly. He saw Lysander watching him and grinned at the younger man.
"Relax Kid. If you look sharp and keep your nose clean, you won't mess up your chances of making Commodore."
Lysander gaped. Why would the Chief think Lysander wanted promotion out of this whole mess?
"Smeg that, who wants to be a Commodore?"
"I thought all you young bucks wanted 'nought but a deck beneath your feet, a star to steer by, and an enemy to fight...' at your age. Don't lie, kid. You want a command. I can tell these things..."
"Well, down the road...maybe. Anyways Chief, what's the worse they can do to me? I was ordered to fix the phaser problem, we did, the computer's smegged, it's an engineering problem now...that's it. Someone's elses problem." Lysander blustered.
"Riiiiiggghhhht Ell-Tee. Someone elses' problem now. Like I haven't been asked to fix a whole LOT of other someones elses problems." intoned a deadpan faced Mirapoints. "And the worst they can do is dump you dirtside, off the ship and out of the Fleet. Dishonorable Discharge. What -was- the name of that guy..we left him in the Rigellia system for refusing to fix someone eleses problem...Skipper like him though, she even slowed down for us to transport him with the cargo transporters onto that asteroid..."
Lysander stared in shock again.
"Umm...they really wouldn't...you know..." began Lysander with a worried expression writ large upon his face.
"Nope. Probably scream some and give you a promotion. Isn't that how it works above decks? I wouldn't know...twenty years in the Merchant Marines and ten in the Fleet, what do I know about you junior officers?" Mirapoints amused himself by watching the kid's reaction out of the corner of his eye.
Lysander squirmed. The Terror grinned and covered up a chuckle as a cough. Knocking down cocky junior officers was almost as much fun as taking a swing at a Federation Marine, in Mirapoint's database.
The doors 'swooshed' open to the Main Bridge. Lysander and Tim's ID codes had already been reported to the Security Detail officer, so Seth didn't leap on them and tear them from limb to limb wrestling them to submission.
Lysander eyed the Gorn and wondered why he? She? It? wasn't wearing a uniform. Wisely, he refrained from asking about it.
He eyed the slim redhaired figure at the Tactical Arch for a moment. Something about the way she had to step on tiptoes to see brought an unaccustomed feeling in his guts..almost a wrenching, sort of tearing...
"*Ahem* Chief Mirapoints and Lieutenant...ummm" began a bored Terror.
"VanderPuls-Hawksley..." added Lysander, staring at the way the hair curled behind her delicate ears.
"Yeah...him...reporting as ordered with the phaser solutions. By the way, congratulations, Ma'm." finished Tim.
Glancing only momentarily at the newcomers Rebecca unconsciously moved her hand to the silver and gold pips at her throat. She mumbled off a response that didn't seem to register on the human range of hearing, but it was the thought that counted.
Rebecca was still getting used to this whole 'XO' thing, and although she a had a little experience in being a 'boss' for a few people, she never had to deal with being a 'boss' to EVERYBODY.
Lysander paused to stare back at Electra Reece. She was staring at the group from her OPS console with a very intent and odd expression on her face. Blushing, she turned back to her duties. Odd that...Maybe Corgan had relayed the odd meeting he'd had the other day betwixt himself and Lysander to her.
Lysander let Tim precede him through the Ready Room door. Frantically trying to remember any religious prayers from his childhood, he followed. All Lysander could remember was something along the lines of "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" and he wasn't willing to put good credits down on it being religious. Why hadn't his smegging mother ever hired some religious fanatic nannies or governesses? No concern for his well-being...
Rebecca still wouldn't meet his eye. He hoped Odin got here soon and she came in. Maybe Bhrode would scream at her some too, share the love.
The Captain was checking something on his desk console and scowling ferociously at the results.
Lysander opened his mouth to report in, but a quick negative headshake (and a kick on the ankle!) from Mirapoints dissuaded him. He suffered in silence, at the same 'Attention' position as Mirapoints.
Several painfully boring minutes went by, before Bhrode looked up and the scowl on his face didn't waver on iota as he did so.
"Terror Mirapoints. On my nice, clean new ship. Socked another Marine I see. You know you'd be one of the few Master Chiefs in the Fleet, if you ever stopped the nonsense and grew up?"
"Yes Sir. Good to see the Captain again, Sir."
"Don't lie. You know me better than that. I'm as glad to see you here as you are to see me. Don't brownnose, you know better. You'll get that rocker again, I'm sure of it. As sure as I am that you'll get drunk and try to beat up another FIST by yourself as well and lose it at the first chance you get. Won't you?"
"If it'll make the Captain happy, Sir."
Bhrode suddenly pointed a finger at Lysander.
"You have the same dysfunction as the Chief here, Lieutenant. What's a FIST?"
"Uhhh Sir? A FIST is a ...Fleet Infantry Strike Team. Two Marine Companies with a half Company support unit attached that..."
"Your problem, Lieutenant, is that you let your sloppy off-duty discipline get in the way of your talents, of which you think you are overly-burdened. Right Chief?"
"If the Captain says so, Sir."
"Damn right I say so. Tell me why my phasers are still offline." Bhrode pointed at Lysander again.
"Sir! In my opinion, Sir, the Phaser Array of the Ventral strip seems to be currently suffereing from dysfunction of the.." began Lysander.
"SILENCE!" bellowed Bhrode, causing Mirapoints to wince and Lysander to about jump out of his skin.
Bhrode just jabbed a finger at the Chief, who recited "Phasers weren't sealed right by those slobs at the Starbase. We resealed them, but the Bridge ODN trunks won't 'see' it through the outer hull sensors. Has to be a computer glitch. On the Bridge. We need to shut her down and flush the bugs. Engineering's problem. Sir, or so I hear."
Bhrode looked at Lysander. "See? Succinct. To the Point? No social or polite nonsense. Knock off the Kay-det garbage, Mister, when you're speaking to me or any ohter superior officer. I ask you a question for a reason, not to gain a new best friend. Understood?"
"Aye Aye Sir." Lysander nodded his assent.
The door hissed open and a sheepish looking Rebecca followed Eric Odin into the room.
Eric could see that Brhode was pissed. He simply said,"Lieutenant Commander Odin accompanying Commander Von Ernst to the ready room sir."
Bhrode pointed at Lysander and merely asked him "See? Wasted time..."
For herself Rebecca stood a little off to the side from everybody. Where normally she would have done so out of shyness, now she did it as a show of support for the Captain. Nervously she settle into a position near the now empty fish-tank to the left.
Bhrode waved them all to 'at ease' but didn't offer anyone a seat. He tugged down his tunic and stared at Odin, his gaze unflinching.
Lysander could sense Rebecca's presence behind him, but even he knew better than to try and turn his head and see her.
Bhrode pointed his thick finger at Odin.
"How long will a Level One Diagnostic of the Main Computer ODN Relays to -all- the LCARS on the Bridge take your people?"
"I think around six days," Odin said hoping to push it on the conservative side if at all possible. Into another galaxy, if at all possible.
Bhrode leaned across his desk and got right into Odin's face. "You 'think' Mister Odin? Didn't they teach you at some point in your long career not to try and sugarcoat bitter pills? Read my lips, Mister Odin. I said LEVEL ONE DIAGNOSTIC. Your people will disassemble each and every part of my Bridge ODN network and remove each and every bit of stray code that some...some...agent put in there. For each and every system, subsystem, and redundancy backup system up here. Now tell me how long 'you think' that will take you, again."
"It depends on allotable people, Sir. Anywhere from four days to about twenty hours. Sir? I'm not really sure...about...I'm not sure...."Eric tried to say.
Rebecca made a little grimace in spite of herself. While she didn't know much about Engineering, she was a devoted student of Mathematics, and such gross estimation flew in the face of her love for exactness. The tolerances between twenty hours and four days were enormous.
Apparently Brhode wasn't impressed either, as he cut off Odin and looked at Mirapoints for a long moment.
"Chief, you know anything about computer protocols?" he demanded.
"Negative Sir. Only phasers, cargo transference and replicator waveguide conduits and messing up promotions, Sir."
Bhrode smiled. It wasn't pretty, it was a cold, calculating fleeting ghost of a smile, but it was there for a moment.
"Miss Von Ernst, log in your photographic memory that I'm giving Commanders Odin and Suder exactly twelve hours, not the estimated twenty, to find and fix all the sabotaged code. Full Level One Diagnostic of Bridge ODN relays and processors hereby commences within the hour. All ships command functions will be run from the Battle Bridge during that time."
Rebecca's light contralto voice came from behind the group. "...yessir...t.twelve hours starting now.." Wishing she possessed a Vulcan's innate sense of timing, Rebecca risked a glance at her Chrono whilst everybody else was concentrating on the Captain
"Mister Odin, you must have some people on your staff who must know something about Computer Diagnostics. Go find them and use them. Or use the time to pack your kitbags. I just accepted the resignation of one senior officer, don't think I'll have any trouble with your replacement if you don't make the grade. Dismissed Mister Odin."
Odin shot Lysander a look filled with pure hatred. All he'd done was answer his comm after a Red Alert. Now the Old Man wants him to pull an all-nighter because the Tac-Weenies 'thought' they had a problem?
~~~Smeggin' great, now this guy probally hates me too. Well, at least -I- get to sleep tonight, and not have to dissasemble an entire ODN trunk and look for all that smeggin' code...I hate computer code...Princess probally loves it...~~~ Lysander pondered.
Bhrode watched Odin leave the room, Lysander and the others remaining at Parade Rest.
"Miss Von Ernst, please log in Chief Mirapoints jacket that he did an exemplary job in repairing this problem, and has my compliments."
The XO's red eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she dug back in her brain to find the proper memorized Crew Bio. Fortunately, she had been familiar with Tactical's personnel for quite some time now. "A.aye sir. Noted and logged."
The fact that she didn't bother to write it down anywhere underlined her abilities that were only now becoming apparent.
"Off the record, Terror, if you lay one finger on any Marines while you're under my command, I'll knock you right back to Spaceman Recruit on a comm relay station in the Delta Quadrant. Is that clear?"
"Yes Captain. Perfectly clear sir." the burly PO replied.
"Dismissed Chief." grated out Bhrode, as he sat down behind his desk again.
Mirapoints lost no time in leaving, slipping Lysander and Rebecca separate winks as he left.
Lysander accepted his bland-faced, but Rebecca, shy as she was had a brief fit wondering what THOSE implications meant. ~~~Calm down Noodle-head~~ her brain warned ~~~He's three times your age.its not THAT kind of wink.~~~
Bhrode stared at the remaining duo for several more long minutes.
"Commander, who was your immediate Assistant in the Tactical Department?"
That caught Rebecca off guard. Technically there was NO direct assistant since the departure of Jessie Parry. "Well sir.." She licked her lips nervously , "Its like this..."
"Furthermore, Commander..." Bhrode cut her off with "...perhaps you can explain why your rating of this officer before me clashes with that of your immediate predecessor? You gave the Lieutenant just short of glowing marks on your last Personnel Evaluation, while Commander Thomas seemed to think we should have court-martialed him for disrespect of Rank and Command, if not actually keelhauled. Can you explain this discrepancy"
~~~Ouch.~~~ Rebecca thought. ~~~ Probably because Commander Thomas was right, and I'm just too whimpy to say anything mean about anybody.~~~ Calling his Superior 'Princess Phaserbanks' was hardly the behavior of a proper respectful subordinate.
~~~ouch~~~ Lysander thought. ~~~Probally because Thomas was a meglomaniacal Intelligence Spook who couldn't bear to be questioned, and Rebecca's too distant to ever call me on anything. Just short of 'glowing?' eih? I
knew I should have snuck a peek...~~~
"Well sir" Rebecca began again, "Perhaps Commander Thomas was a bit...er..narrow sited in his evaluations. I have found Lieutenant van der...van der...Ummmmmm..Lieutenant Hawklsey to be quite unorthodox in his manner, but ....um...Mathmatically 'sound' in his tactical strategems."
~~~What the noodles else am I supposed to say?..he's a jerk!!!~~~
~~~Damn straight...A minus in Hyper-Relative Vector Parabola Plotting and Analysis my ass...of -course- Princess Phaserbanks got an A plus! Jerk...~~~~~
"He's..uh..highly regarded by his peers." ~~~ Especially the females ~~~ "He's helped out with Departmental Organization" ~~~Over my head of course~~~, "And..um..he's uh.." Rebecca searched for another compliment. "Sir..the Lieutenant is quite.um..'sanitary'."
~~~Huh? Probally likes my cologne.~~
Lysander was having trouble refraining from rolling his eyes at the mention of Commander Thomas. Listening to Rebecca being forced to say something nice about him for once distracted him nicely. Well, sort of nice. At least she didn't actually puke on anyone. This time.
Bhrode listened to Rebecca wind down. He templed his fingers and stared at them over the 'steeple' for several long minutes more. His gaze shifted back to Lysander, who was resisting the urge to fidget.
"Frankly, Lieutenant, your record is one of the worst I've ever seen in my entire Fleet career, and I've seen some real messes. I was serious when I said that you and Chief Mirapoints have the same Achilles Heel. Both of you have some of the best potential I've ever had the pleasure of having serve under me. Both of you are screwups when it comes to regulating your personal lives. Both of you are so far down the reclaimator chute professionally, that we have to transport breathing air down to you."
Lysander heard a small 'huff' noise behind him. He had no idea it was Rebecca's mouth falling open in one of those little 'O' shapes, as Bhrode said everything she'd ever had the urge to say to Lysander. Well..almost everything. She quite liked the line about the reclaimator chute, and filed it away for use herself...someday.
Bhrode continued. "I told the Commander this, and I'm telling you. All I ask is that you do your job and do it well, with honor. Screw up and let me, or yourself down and you'll join the Chief on that relay station, wearing the same rank. Is that clear to you?"
"Crystal clear, Sir!" barked out Lysander.
"I have the unenviable task of doing Commander Thomas' job and training Commander Von Ernst as Executive Officer. Do you have faith in her ability to perform this job? I ask, because your record shows you and she have had...interactions...in the past."
Bhrode's face was unreadable. Lysander could feel cold sweat breaking out under his uniform and slithering down his spine. How to answer?
For herself, Rebecca wondered what sort of 'interactions' Brhode could be referring to. She blushed in spite of herself to think of Lysander and herself being 'discussed' in the same context.
"Sir. The Commander is... is...." Lysander began. He could just picture Rebecca behind him, looking mortified that attention was turned on her again. "More than capable. She is one of the finest officers I've ever served with or under. I think she may surprise you, Sir. I know she will surprise you, if you expect the Commander to do anything less than her absolute best, to the highest level of her abilities." Lysander wound up with. What -had- Rebecca said about him? Lysander had read everyone elses evaluations the other day, but something had prevented him from opening his own file.
Rebecca unconsciously blew an errant strand of hair out of her face. ~~~Well at least he didn't mention the 'nightgown incident'. ~~~ Rebecca was still horribly embarrassed over the event that Lysander had more than likely already forgotten about.
Bhrode just stared at the two of them some more. It was an unnerving but effective trick, Lysander was already planning on using it himself at the first chance. Finally, Bhrode removed a small grey box from where it was hidden behind his desktop monitor and slid it across the desk to rest in front of Lysander.
"Commander, log the transfer of the position of Chief Tactical Officer, USS GALAXY to Lieutenant VanderPuls-Hawksley, effective Alpha Shift tomorrow's stardate. Add to it the paperwork for the Brevetted position of Lieutenant Commander for the new Lieutenant."
~~~Great Goobers!!~~~ Rebecca gaped. ~~~Hoth still has us teamed together.~~~ Apparently the Interfering Admiral was not about to let his prize 'team' break up so easily.
Bhrode stopped Lysander's thanks with a curt motion. "Bear in mind, Mister, this is a temporary move on my part. You are very much under probation. One screw up, one mistake, one judgement in error on your part, in uniform or out, and your head won't even bounce on it's way off this ship. You will NOT let me, my ship, MY crew, or yourself down in this matter, is that clear?"
Lysander could only nod his assent. He didn't trust his voice to speak right now.
"Very well. Meet with the Commander to have her hand over the Tactical Officer's codes and papers later today. Dismissed."
Lysander executed a Parade Ground perfect "Salute" and wheeled on his heel.
He almost fell over backwards again.
Rebecca Von Ernst, for the first time in the nine years he'd known her...
Was not staring off at some indeterminate point in space three meters to his left...or his right...
Was not buried to the tip of her pert little nose in some book or PADD or paper or holoviewer...
Was not staring at the deck ...or the bulkheads...
Was not blushing, or looking like she'd blush.
Was not puking, or wiping her mouth after puking...
Was not ignoring him in a way designed to the tenth decimal place to let him know he was being ignored on purpose...
But, was looking...
right...
at...
him, with those -huge- liquid brown eyes.
To be accurate actually one would have to say that Rebecca was staring right about level with Lysander's Rib cage, her elfin stature seemingly swallowed up by his bulk.
For the second time that day Rebecca found herself in close proximity to a member of the opposite Gender (OH! The Horror!). The first had been the uncomfortable pinning of her new pips by the older Captain Brhode, and now THIS. This time seemed different however.
Oh to be sure she still felt the uneasy quivering well up in her stomach, she still felt the cold clammy sweat breaking out on her palm, and still visualized the invisible hands reaching up to close off her throat...
....but this time all that was....'nice'
The fact that Lysander loomed over her small form, and that her rapidly beating heart was mere inches from his belt buckle was no longer merely terrifying...(it was that too)..but it was also..'nice'
~~~Okay noodle head lets come up with some better adjectives than 'nice'~~~
He smelled..'nice' too. A sort of citrus-old leathery, woodsy scent that to Rebecca's mind conjured up images of pampered indulgence...a nice pampered...
~~~Ah heck with it..you're on your own.~~~
She looked up at his surprised eyes, and she felt...'very nice'
Usually, Lysander had always treated Rebecca like part of the decor that mumbled back to you occasionally. lately, he'd been wishing she'd look at him like...like...
....like she was doing right now.
So, with typical Lysander idiocy, he did what he always did with pretty girls...He fired her one of those creepy crooked grins and a wink, and mouthed 'Comm you later...?' at her...
Before almost running out of the room. He even left his 'pips' behind in his haste to escape the confusing emotions roiling around inside him. Why did he feel...so smeggin' 'nice' all of a sudden?
It was several moments before Rebecca snapped too and recovered enough to begin to doubt herself. She was imagining things.
After all there was no other interpretation...right?
Lysander stood there, in the bustle of the Main Bridge, and banged his head on a handy bulkhead saying "Smeg..smeg...smeg" over and over again.
When he looked up, Electra Reece was looking at him oddly again, from the command center.
It was one of those days...
"Still Waters Run Deep"
Lt. j/g Brian Elessidil
Counselor
Lt. Cmdr. Maxwell-Navarre Shinta
Asst. Chief Counselor
[OOC: Takes place immediately after "Thoughts in Passing".]
When Brian arrived at Shinta's quarters his apprehension at talking with her had grown considerably.
'Maybe I should just let her have more time to herself,' he continued to second-guess himself. If he weren't leaving on the shuttle mission in less than an hour he might have gone with that option, but he didn't know when he'd be able to talk with her again. 'IF ever again,' the thought briefly flashing through his mind. He quickly re-focused on why he was here; there was no point in going down *that* path right now.
Wasting no more time, the nervous counselor rang the door chime and waited. There was no response. Fighting the urge to forget about the whole thing and chalk it up to not wanting to be intrusive, Brian rang the chime again, this time focusing on the presence he felt somewhere on the other side of the door.
Gently, he called out though the door, "Shinta, it's Brian. I know you're in there." Once again, no response.
Still very nervous but determined not to give up without at least trying, he continued, "Shinta, please. I'm leaving the ship in less than an hour and I would really like to know that you're alright before I go." He knew she didn't know yet that he had to leave for the shuttle mission so soon; he was hoping his revelation about 'leaving the ship' might evoke a response.
Shinta had been lying on the bed, not interested in seeing anybody. And certainly not Brian, because she knew that she couldn't fool him that easily; he would pick-up on her moods quickly.
But then she heard him mention 'leaving the ship'. Was he going too? Abandoning her? Were all the people that supported her going to be picked away one by one? Before she knew it she was on her feet, and racing for the door. "Where are you going!" She demanded wide eyed.
He was relieved that she finally left her self-isolation, even if he had to create a little melodrama in her to get her to do so.
"Can we talk for a little?" he asked. "I leave in less than an hour on the shuttle mission I mentioned at the staff meeting, but I want to know you're ok before I go." Brian hoped Shinta would at least allow him that.
Shinta tried to get her composure back. She kicked herself mentally for letting Brian see her like that. "Come in, you want something to drink?
Relieved that Shinta didn't close the door in his face, but still keenly aware that he had only a precious few minutes to talk, Brian wrestled with his own thoughts on how best to proceed. He didn't have time to 'dance around' his concerns and hope that Shinta would open up on her own; she was too strong, too proud, too independent to do that anyway. Getting her to talk, especially about something so potentially painful as being passed up for the Chief Counselor position wasn't going to be easy. He didn't have to be Betazoid to tell that she had already revealed more to him than she was comfortable with; so there was a real risk that attempting to be too direct might cause her to put up a wall, preventing him from really getting her to talk.
Following Shinta into her quarters, Brian subtly scanned the room for evidence of her state of mind. He knew Shinta always kept her surroundings tidy, yet now the room was a bit of a mess. There were toys everywhere, and the dishes hadn't been cleared. He knew it had to be the result of her mood.
"So exactly what are you going to do? You need advice?" She quickly tried to pull the initiative back to her side.
'This is it,' Brian thought to himself. His response to Shinta's attempt to take control would set the tone for the entire discussion. Deciding he didn't have the luxury of letting Shinta move at her own pace, he took a deep breath and began, "Shinta, I'm not here for me -- I'm here for you."
Shinta seemed ever so slightly taken by surprise by his approach.
Taking advantage of the pause, Brian continued to be direct but gentle. "I know that Captain Bhrode made Mike Chief Counselor instead of you. It was unexpected, unnecessary, and unfair, and I know you have to be experiencing a whole range of emotions in response."
Still unsure of how his words would be taken, Brian nevertheless continued, undaunted. Moving a little closer to Shinta, he added, "And I know that you have to be feeling very alone right now. So before I leave on this mission, please let me be here for you."
She swallowed a couple of times, Shinta did not want to break down, especially not in front of a colleague. Yet she knew that he could sense her feelings anyway, that was not fair.
"I can't fool you, can I Brian?" she sighed. "No, I am not doing OK but I am not envious of Mike, he has earned it just as much as I would have. It was the way in which it happened. I was the assistant chief, all the other assistant chiefs were confirmed. It makes it a little bit difficult. But I don't want you worrying about me out there. You will need all your senses on the mission."
Outwardly she looked completely in control. Yet some of the distress kept leaking through. "Brian, I don't want to cry in front of you, can you trust me when I tell you that I will be OK eventually?"
Brian was torn. Both professionally and personally, he wanted to respect Shinta's wish to keep her emotions to herself, but also professionally and personally, he felt she needed to let them out and to feel ok doing so.
And another realization was coming to bear on his mind as well. It had the unpleasant sting of . . . anger. He was being treated as the 'junior' counselor, even the 'junior' friend! There were few things that he hated more. But anger was always by far the most difficult emotion for him to handle -- in others and especially in himself. He usually put a tight lid on it, using huge amounts of emotional energy to keep it under control before it took control of him.
But when it slipped through, it robbed him of his ability to think rationally. All thoughts became pure emotion in its wake. He lost his usual ability to speak articulately as the emotional torrent reached a bottle neck in his inability to express it.
And he never knew whether he was going to yell, cry, throw something, or just walk away.
"You know, Shinta," he began, with a little quiver becoming apparent in his voice as he tried to maintain emotional control. "Maybe you've become too used to being the 'Assistant Chief Counselor'. Maybe . . ." his face flushed and his fists clenched slightly as he struggled for words. Barely maintaining his calm yet less-than-steady voice, he swallowed and stammered, " . . . maybe...it's time you stopped...being in control all the time."
He started to shake inside as his emotions pushed him on, "I came here to see if you were alright...because I thought...I thought I had something to offer...as a colleague and a friend. I...do not need...your condescension."
Where was this coming from? He couldn't believe he was saying this to her! But his irrational response to her reaction had overwhelmed him.
"Oh Brian." Without thinking she took him in her arms, and held him close. "I am so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you. This is so stupid of me, I know you are lonely and still getting used to the ship. And instead of supporting you, I am making things worse."
Was she patronizing him now?! He nearly exploded until she looked into his eyes.
"It is nothing personal, Brian. I would love to tell you, but I cannot. It is dangerous, for you. And I regard you as a friend. In a short period of time you have become very dear to me, and I do not endanger my friends. Even my husband doesn't know what is wrong with me. And I am not in control all the time. I cry when I am alone. And I confided in Karyn, she was my counselor and I miss her."
Brian truly felt for her, but yet he was still annoyed that she didn't get it: he was here to support HER, not the other way around.
"You don't know my past, Brian. I have learned to survive on my own from a very early age. It is not easy for me to confide in others. I listen and I help people, I don't complain myself. I am telling you more now, then I have told almost everybody, because I don't want you to feel bad over this. I..." And then she couldn't do it anymore, the flood gates open and the tears came out. "Please don't hate me."
By now, Brian was equally overwhelmed. As he instinctively returned Shinta's embrace, more and more thoughts flew through his mind. What had gotten into him? He was no stranger to his own difficulty with anger, but why had he reacted so strongly to this situation?
And he felt guilty. Guilty because he had reacted so unprofessionally when he wanted to be the 'perfect' counselor at the moment; guilty because although he and Shinta were becoming friends, she was still his superior officer and his outburst, albeit relatively calm, was still out of line.
But more than anything, he felt guilty because not only did Shinta still have to deal with her problem on her own, she was now concerned for him and concerned that he 'hated' her. 'This is what anger does,' he scolded himself.
And for better or worse, he silently vowed to clamp the lid on this distasteful emotion even tighter.
After a short while of just holding Shinta in return and letting her release at least some of the flood that had been building inside, Brian let go. They were both a little calmer now.
"Shinta, I do not, I could not hate you. I only want to help you, just as you've helped me. I have my own reasons for wishing Karyn were still here but she's not. All of us who looked to her for compassion and leadership, especially the counselors, we're going to have to learn to rely on one another now."
Trying to find a way to move on without coming to tears himself, Brian continued, "But I trust that you won't try to deal with this all alone. I have to leave now for this shuttle mission, so I can't be here for you for awhile. Please do whatever you have to do, talk to whomever you need to talk to, but don't bottle it all up alone." As he tenderly looked at her, the misty glimmer of regret shone in his dark eyes.
"I have one person I talk to, so don't worry. She is not a counsellor, but she understands. And one thing, Brian -- we don't have to learn to rely on just each other, well of course we do in a way, but we have to and can rely on Mike. He is the chief, and he can do the job. Can I count on you there?"
He could read both posturing and genuiness in her. "Of course," he assured her, "I was including him when I said we need to rely on each other." And although he meant what he said, he hadn't yet developed the trust in Mike to support his own words.
Shinta smiled faintly, "Thank you for what you did for me. Sometimes I need that extra push to get me to open up. And you are very good at that."
She could see his embarassment at the compliment -- and the concern in his eyes that perhaps he had pushed too hard.
"Work with that, make that a tool in your treatment of difficult patients," she advised.
Now go, and remember, don't worry about me on that mission. Focus, and make us all proud." And she gave his arm a final squeeze.
"O Coward Conscience, How Dost Thou Afflict Me!" -- pt. 3
by
Lt. (j/g) Brian Elessidil
Counselor
Lt. (j/g) Alia Drakely
Security Officer
Picking up her drink again, Alia readied herself and looked over to Brian. "As I said, the dreams vary. Some nights they can go back to when I was still at home, others..." she took a sip of her drink to try and hide her hesitancy, "specific events, people, Jarl, the places." She had to close her eyes against the images.
Brian could tell there was a lot to Alia's "story". Her history sounded complex already and he really still knew very little about it. He could sense a lot of emotions from her concerning it all too, not the least of which was some shame. He was no stranger to that emotion himself and knew it could be a powerful inhibitor.
"I'm sorry, 'Jarl'?" Brian asked.
Her eyes flew open. "Oh." Her voice was tinged with frustration. "He's my...ex-employer. After six months out of House, he found me in some bar and told me he had heard I needed work. I went with him, relieved at his offer..." She laughed mockingly at herself, "Such a naive fool." She said softly, as if in observation to herself. She seemed to remember she was supposed to be explaining, "I worked for him for three and a half years."
"And is he a central figure in your nightmares?"
She frowned. "Sometimes." She looked down then. "Most times." She corrected herself. "They just seem so real. I can hear...smell...feel everything." She started to rub her arm against the sudden chill she felt. "It can be overwhelming." She said quietly.
"This is where things could start getting more uncomfortable, Alia," Brian warned, picking up some of the unsettling images that were beginning to flow through her mind. "Tell me more about the nightmares, how they begin, what happens, how they end."
Taking a deep breath, she fixed her gaze upon some spot in front of her. "It usually starts in a practically empty room, except for a bed. I wear my customary dress. And it's freezing cold...always freezing cold." Her hand briefly went up to her lips as if to reassure herself of the warmth in her fingers.
"I'll be alone at first, the time dragging out forever. I have to wait, and I start to pace, just waiting, starting to panic." Her brow creased at the memory, not only of the nightmare, but of the real events. "And then...then with dread I hear the sound of the door opening behind me. I turn to see who it is, and I realise it's Jarl. Sometimes it's a stranger, or Jarl has a stranger with him, but mostly Jarl. He'll move forward with that...that smile of his." She covered her eyes at the thought. "And I'll obediently sit on the bed...Just obediently..." Ignoring her tears, she jumped up from her seat and started to pace in the limited space available to her.
Feeling slightly chilled himself, Brian unconsciously folded his arms in front of him. "Keep going, Alia. You're doing fine; you're ok here."
"He...we...he would..." She dropped back down into her seat, drawing her legs up to her and hugging them, "He'd undress me, all the time whispering things like 'my sweet little Lia' into my ear, but even then, his tone was...cold, mocking. And then he'd touch me.." Her eyes closed against the image, "He'd...he'd..." The hot tears falling down her face stopped her and she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
"It's ok, Alia," Brian said quietly to reassure his patient. "Remember, you're safe here: safe from judgement, safe from harm -- there's nothing to be ashamed or afraid of." Yet he shifted slowly in his chair as an uncomfortable, very tangible uneasiness steadily engulfed him.
"Try to go on," he said a little cautiously.
Why was it so difficult to say it? They were just words...that was it. She took a steeling breath, and caught Brian's gaze, "He'd have sex with me." She stated with a lifeless tone.
". . . And that wasn't what you wanted," he immediately added in a quiet, far-away tone. It wasn't clear whose thought he was finishing.
"No," she said quietly, "that wasn't what I wanted. It was never what I wanted...For three and a half years, that was never what I wanted. But it was my job."
Then Brian was just sitting there, his eyes looking past Alia, focusing elsewhere.
Alia looked at him with a slight frown, "Brian?" She asked gently, worried. "Are you okay?"
At the sound of Alia's voice, Brian's gaze returned to her, not really seeing her for a second or two. Then, blinking, he stammered quietly, "Oh, uh Alia . . . I-I'm sorry . . . I lost focus for a moment."
Alia couldn't help but notice that he looked slightly pale.
Realizing what she had asked him, Brian said softly, smiling awkwardly, "I'm fine -- but I should be asking you that question."
"I'm sorry," she murmured, "You don't look well, perhaps I should go." It seemed she had said something to upset him, and the thought made her rebuke herself - this is exactly what father warned you about...
Sensing her thoughts, Brian looked directly into her eyes and gently but firmly chided, "No, your father was wrong." There was something in his look and in his voice that gave Alia the odd feeling there was a lot more to his words than the sum of their meaning -- and that they were only partly directed to her.
A thick silence filled the space between them; like mortar between two bricks, it kept them apart yet at the same time, somehow bonded them together.
And strangely, they were both aware yet unaware of it.
After a few long seconds, Brian seemed to come back into himself. "Alia, this might be a good time for us to stop. Going back through that dream and the memories associated with it is a big step. How do you feel?"
She gave him a chuckle, "Scared," she admitted, but then she caught his eyes, "but not quite so lonely."
Brian smiled slightly because in a way, he felt the same. "As I said before, there's going to be a lot more work to do and it'll probably require us getting together on a regular basis. How does that sound to you?"
"Good." The word came out of her mouth almost immediately. She hadn't even had to think about it. She was scared, she had admitted that, but the simple word had taken no effort, and she would never have believed that one day she would be sitting in front of a counselor and telling him she wanted to go to more sessions. "That sounds good."
"Talking To A Fellow Security Person"
By Lt. Cmdr. Rayna O'Grady, CSecO and
Ensign Victor Azaria, Security Officer
Darkstar had stepped out and Rayna was back to making out her last report before returning home. She heard footsteps and assumed it was Ensign Boggs coming to bug her...again. She didn't want to bother with him, "Ensign Boggs, don't come talk to me until you are done, got it?" She hadn't looked up at him.
Victor turned, looking around and then back at her. "Sorry to dissapoint you, ma'am. But I'm not Ensign Boggs," he said with a small amused look. Still, he kept a serious face but his eyes were laughing.
Noting her mistake, she apologized, "I'm sorry. I thought it was Boggs coming here to bug me. I think he might have a crush on me or something. So, what brings you here? Oh, wait a minute. You're on this shift, arent you? Gads, you'd think I'd know that since I made out the schedule. I think I even wrote your name wrong."
He smiled to her. "Most people do," he said before adding. "Victor Azaria. And you must be Raya Lamar O'Grady. Congratulations on your new position, ma'am"
"Thank you. So far it hasn't been too bad but I have a feeling that if I even screw up a bit, the new Captain will have me out of here and the next person filling in. I think he has a thing about women in power. I'm sorry, have a seat...take a load off." She looked over a PADD, "I think that I might need you to make sure that the civilians stay out of the certain areas that the new Captain has designated but there is no hurry."
He smiled to her. "I'll have that fixed ASAP, ma'am.." he said then got a bit more...serious. "It would not surprise me if the Captain doesn't like women in command. Scuttlebutt says that one of the ships he was assigned to had a female XO. He dismissed her rather quickly, so to speak. Gave her bogus assignments that she would screw up. She did it, one time, and he reprimanded her so hard that the Bridge crew's hair stood up. I think she is presently in command of Garbage disposal at Starbase 888...Sorry, ma'am, didn't mean to sound disrespectal regarding the captain"
"No, it's okay. One day, it'll be me who saves his butt so I am not going to worry about it. Besides, I got the holodeck bandit caught in less than the hour he gave me. I think that he'll be leaving me alone for a while." She realized that she really didn't know this person in front of her and decided to chew the fat, "So, tell me a little about you. I've been on maturnity leave and pretty much haven't gotten to know my crewmembers."
Victor smiled and sat down. "Well...I am a starfleet brat who has been on Earth one time and that was at the Academy. Graduated top 10 % in '68. I am going to stay for life," he said, leaving out some parts. He didn't talk so much of himself normally so...Besides, if she wanted to know his record, she could access the damn computer and find out.
"Okay." Rayna didn't pry. She had a few things that she wasn't going to talk about. She smiled, "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Besides, Earth is overrated." She stood up, "So, are you ready to do some real work? There is a few sections that need to be guarded from civillians..." she said under her breath, "...like they are a threat to the ship."
Victor smiled, having picked up that remark. "Well, sometimes you never know what civvies do. They can work for some newletter, be big talkers or even spies. I've seen that happen, ma'am," he said and looked at the PADD. "The bridge is of course off limits...the holodeck needs some guards as well, if I am not mistaken. I am not sure what other sectors...except from the duty stations. It's not like we are going to close off the Ten Forward."
"Okay then, I guess I will let you choose where you want to stand guard. I have a date with a bed. These log shifts and the twins are going to kill me and I was off a couple of hours ago."
"Ma'am," he started, standing up again. "If you ever feel you are buried in workload and should be with your family, just contact me. I don't mind extra shifts and workload. I am a bit addicted to working," he said with a smile.
"Well, thank you. I'm sure that I'll be taking you up on it sometime in the near future." She makes a note to self, "Okay, then I guess that's it." She got ready to leave.
Victor smiled. "Good night, ma'am," he said and picked up a PADD, reading over it. He looked up from it and smiled to her. "And sweet dreams."
She smiled back as she walked out, "Thank you. Bye."