"Me, Myself, and I."
By Commander Kent Peterson

The male human figure stood in front of the bathroom sink. Looking at the steamed over mirror he raised his hand and gently wiped the the condense water away. It had been a while since he had seen his own face. Just as he was getting used to looking at the face of Major Galathon - Romulan and officer in the ranks of the Tal'Shiar Intelligence Branch - he was again Commander Kent Peterson the returning Chief Science Officer of the Starship Galaxy.

Raising his hand he brushed against the stuble on his face. After keeping it smooth and clear of facial hair - Romulan men did not seem to find it fashionable to grow beards - he wanted to leave it as it was. Natural. To some degree he considered letting it grow a little, a subtle goatee to add something new to his own face. His 'own' face. That sounded good.

After having spent nearly two hours on one of the Prospero holodecks he was a little sore after skating around on the ice and smacking pucks in to the goals. But a long, hot shower seemed to have done the trick, aside from an old knee injury that was now slightly aggreviated.

Removing the towel he walked in to the bedroom of his temporary quarters. It was nothing like what he had become acustomed to on the Galaxy-class starship he called home, but it would suffice for the week it would take them to rendezvous with the ship near the Mako-Relli Nebula - he was definitely interested in hearing the impressions Lieutenant Commander Mitchell had of that mission. After all it was the first time anyone had been able to scan this gaseous formation.

["Elaithin to Peterson,"] the Prospero's internal communication system announced, carrying the voice of the Bajoran security chief to Kent as he finished getting dressed.

Kent scurred around looking for his communicator. Eventually finding it under the Romulan uniform he had worn for the duration of the mission to Romulus, he tapped it. "Go ahead."

["Up for getting together this evening? I hear the bartender they have here makes a mean drink ... something called a Jem'Hadar Downer."]

"I didn't think you drank alcohol," Kent responded as he threw the Romulan clothes off the bed and in to one of the bedroom corners. "Isn't it supposed to be against your religion or something?"

It sounded like Jii managed a laugh at the other end. ["I'm religous, Kent .... but I'm not dead. So, you interested, or what?"]

The Starfleet commander sounded a little embarrassed. "Hey ... you religious types all sound the same to me," he said a little defensively. "So what is this Jem'Hadar Downer?"

["Not sure. One of the doctor's mentioned it while I was waiting for Doctor Pulaski restore my face. Apparently it is strong enough to bring down a Jem'Hadar warrior."]

Kent smirked a little. "Sounds like a plan. I'll catch you there shortly. I have something else I need to do before I get there."

["All right. Just don't make me come and chase you up."]

"You were saying lieutenant commander," Peterson said in jest. After all Kent did outrank Jii.

["Elaithin out,"] the Bajoran responded, closing the channel.

Looking down he was not sure if what he was wearing really said 'I'm out for some fun'. The scientist had actually hoped to spend the evening, relaxing, hoping to catch up on news from his own side of the Neutral Zone. After spending that long a period with Captain Price, Counselor Dallas, and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin, he was actually looking for some time alone.

"Reflection"
by Lt Commander Elaithin Jii

Have you ever woken up and not recognized the reflection in the mirror?

Honestly.

There is always the occasional off day - or the days when you spot that first grey hair, or maybe the first wrinkle about the eyes.

Then, of course, there's the case when you're suddenly pulled from a permanent assignment aboard a Starfleet vessel, disguised as a Romulan, and sent to one of the most paranoid planets in the known galaxy?

Who hasn't been there before?

Such was the reality that Lieutenant Commander Elaithin Jii had lived with ever since he and his crewmates had departed the Starship Galaxy on the unexpected orders of Vice-Admiral T'Paal and Starfleet Intelligence. As it was, he was currently sitting in the Prospero's sickbay. Like before, Elaithin would be the first have the restorative surgery done, as his Bajoran nose made things more complicated. Dr. Pulaski was currently with a patient - the Prospero's Chief Engineer - who was something of a hypochondriac, it seemed. The man was convinced that he'd come down with Barclay's Protomorphosis Syndrome. One of the other Doctors had just finished telling him bout a drink called a "Jem'Hadar Downer" that he could get in the "Crash Lounge" - which was, apparently, the Prospero's Ten-Forward.

"But Doctor, I'm telling you! I'm de-evolving into a lemur, I can feel it!" the engineer said plaintively as Pulaski shooed him out of her office.

"'Commander, I really don't have time for this. For the last time, you are not de-evolving, so get the hell out of my sickbay. If you come back here again without actually being sick or dying, I'm going to personally de-evolve you into an amoeba." the gravelly-voiced Doctor informed him.

The Chief Engineer promptly departed, and Pulaski turned to face the waiting "Romulans." "Lieutenant Commander Elaithin?"

"Yes ma'am!" the Bajoran replied, snapping to with his Academy best.

Pulaski eyed him warily. "A little formal today, aren't you, 'Commander?" The Doctor asked.

Elaithin couldn't help grinning. "Just don't want to be turned into an amoeba, ma'am." he replied.

Pulaski actually laughed at that. "Come on in, 'Commander. Let's get you turned back into a proper-looking Bajoran."

"Can't argue with that, ma'am."

Some time later that evening.....

Elaithin was bored. Now, strike that, he was bored out of his ever-loving mind. They'd only taken a bagful of their most personal effects with them when leaving the Galaxy, which meant that most of the things that would normally occupy the Bajoran's mind, such as his snowboard, or some of his holoprograms perhaps - had unfortunately left behind.

That, of course, left only one solution. The Bajoran tapped his commbadge. Still being worn over the off-duty clothes he was wearing.

"Elaithin to Peterson,"he said, and waited for a response.

After a few moments, Peterson replied. [ "Go ahead."]

"Up for getting together this evening? I hear the bartender they have here makes a mean drink ... something called a Jem'Hadar Downer." Elaithin had to admit that the name of the drink had sparked his interest - and getting drunk alone was never any kind of fun.

["I didn't think you drank alcohol, ] Kent responded . ["Isn't it supposed to be against your religion or something?"]

Jii had to stop laughing before he squeezed out his response. "I'm religious, Kent ... but I'm not dead. So, you interested, or what?"

The Starfleet commander actually sounded a little embarrassed. ["Hey ... you religious types all sound the same to me,"] he said a little defensively. ["So what is this Jem'Hadar Downer?"]

"Not sure. One of the doctor's mentioned it while I was waiting for Doctor Pulaski restore my face. Apparently it is strong enough to bring down a Jem'Hadar warrior."

["Sounds like a plan. I'll catch you there shortly. I have something else I need to do before I get there."]

"All right. Just don't make me come and chase you up." Jii replied. He'd do it, too.

"You were saying Lieutenant Commander?" Peterson said in jest.

["Elaithin out,"] the Bajoran responded, closing the channel before the other man could pull rank and weasel out of a fun night that they both needed.

Patrick Weber
--------------------------
AIM: NerfHerderX10
ICQ: 109090446
"To sleep, perchance to dream..."

"Wine, Women, and Song."
By Commander Kent Peterson & Lt. Commander Elaithin Jii

In the 'Crash Lounge' - the nicknamed crew lounge of the Excelsior-Class USS Prospero , what would be known on the Galaxy as Ten-Forward, Lieutenant Commander Elaithin awaited his fellow crewmate. He was currently sipping on a pan-galactic gargle blaster, awaiting Peterson arrival to get to the real drinks.

Across the lounge, a cute blonde Ensign was smiling at the 'Commander. He winked back, regretting for a moment his "involvement" - such as it was - with Lieutenant Commander Heather Sanchez. That, and he regretted those blasted morals that wouldn't allow him to cheat on someone - even if the relationship he shared with that individual was purely sexual.

Kent caught the glance as he approached the table where the Galaxy's former security chief was seated. Shaking his head he pulled one of the chairs out, "I just can't take you anywhere Elaithin."

The Bajoran grinned. "You saw that, huh?" He'd settled back into his chair,when a question he'd been meaning to ask occurred to him. "Hey, Kent - why is it that you never call me Jii?"

"I though you folks ... I mean the Bajorans ... didn't approve of that kind of thing. It's only supposed to be a 'by invitation only' honor. At least that is what someone told me a few years ago."

Jii had to laugh at that. The amount of racial misconceptions in Starfleet astounded him sometimes. "No, no. We Bajorans are about the least formal people you'll ever meet, unless you're talking to a Vedek. Hell, I think that if the Bajoran Militia didn't interact with Starfleet, we probably still wouldn't even bother with official ranks."

Kent smirked a little. Once again he had demonstrated his lack of knowledge about the Bajoran people - their customs and religious practices. "Aren't I glad we didn't go undercover as Bajorans," he remarked.

"Well, at least I wouldn't have had to go under the knife."

The Human raised his hand and ran it down the beginnings of the goatee he was growing - it was a reassurance that his face was once more his. "To be honest I cannot believe we even got through it. I mean ... I know we nearly didn't. Can you even believe we meet ..."

Kent stopped as Jii cleared his throat. After all the mission was still considered classified and they were not supposed to be talking about it. There were uneasy parallels with his cover as a Romulan major in the Tal'Shiar - it must have been something about 'intelligence' and dealing with matters behind closed doors.

Kent had noticed that as the Bajoran cleared his throat, his gaze had also shifted momentarily to a young Lieutenant in Security Gold who was sitting at a nearby table. Elaithin was fully aware of all Security procedures, and this young kid couldn't have been more obvious to the Security Chief's practiced eye. "I'll be right back." Elaithin said, leaving the puzzled Kent Peterson wondering just where his compatriot was heading.

The Starfleet commander sat a little surprised - what the hell was he doing?

As Jii approached the young security - or was it Intelligence? - officer, he found himself being more than a bit annoyed. Here he was, having just come back from a rather harrowing mission to Romulus, and someone had assigned this punk kid to listen to him and Kent trying to relax?

Putting two and two together, seeing him approach the fellow Starfleet officer, the scientist attempted to grab on to the Bajoran's arm and hold him back gently, but his missed.

The Lieutenant grew more and more visibly nervous as the six-foot five Bajoran sat at the table across from him. "Like what you're listening to, Lieutenant?"

"I'm ... erm, I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what you mean." the young Lieutenant responded, trying (inadequately so) to cover.

Kent, as the senior most ranking officer out of three, quickly caught up with the Bajoran. "Don't worry about him, Lieutenant. He's been hitting it hard all night," the commander attempted to explain. "Back off now," he said softly, so only Jii could hear. "You want them to throw us both in the Brig?"

Elaithin sighed a bit. "You're taking all the fun out of this you know, Commander." Then, deciding to take a much more jovial approach to cover his own lack of etiquette - he should have known they'd be watched. Officers recently back from hostile territory frequently were. "Tell you want, Lieutenant!" the Bajoran said, clapping a hand down. "See that blonde little Ensign over there? I want you to go buy her and yourself a drink. I'll pay for it out of my own credits, of course - and we forget all about it. That sound fair to you?"

The Security Officer, glad at having avoided a confrontation, nodded. "Aye, sir. Sounds perfectly all right to me."

"Good man," Jii replied as he and Kent retook their own seats. "Annoys the hell out of me, you know. Even if it is SOP."

"Well after the trauma you went through ... it is the perfect excuse for a counselor to have you taken off duty."

"Speaking of counselors," Jii said, deflecting the observation, "what's going on with you and Counselor Dallas?"

Kent nearly choked on his drink. "What?"

"Oh, come on. It's as plain as the ridges on my nose." the Bajoran stated. "Spill it....sir."

"Sir? When the hell did you start respecting that I outrank you?" the scientist joked, also trying to defect the comment. It was not successful, instead it made him wonder. The conversation he had Karyn had in the Romulan prison left him puzzled. "I wish I knew to be honest. I kissed her, she didn't seem to respond negatively, now she's angry with me. You know she's barely said a word to me since we got to the Prospero."

"Well," Jii muttered as the waiter brought the pair their fourth drinks. "If it's advice you're looking for, I'm afraid you're in the wrong place, my friend. What I know about women couldn't fill a personal log."

"Maybe she just doesn't know how she feels?"

"I've always been confident that the omniscient air women give off is just and act."

"Or maybe I just screwed it up completely," Kent said sounded rather defeated. "I mean ... what if she won't even speak to me again? We could be on the Galaxy for years."

Elaithin drummed his fingers on the table as he considered his friend's dilemma. "Nah, Karyn's not the type to leave something like that unresolved. She's a Counselor, remember? You can pretty much count on hearing more than enough about how she feels."

Kent managed a smile. "Well I'd settle for more yelling at me and accusing me of 'using' her because it was convenient at the moment. The scarey thing is that I actually do feel something for her ... or at least I think I do."

Elaithin had to laugh at that. "Prophets, man! Either you do, or you don't, which is it?"

The Human tried to work it out but he found the same frustrations he did when talking to Karyn on Romulus, both of them locked together in a prison and awaiting death. "I ... I do. OK! Happy now?"

It was like a weight off his shoulders. The only problem now would be to make sure that Karyn knew this was how he felt - it was not some passing phase, it was not confused emotions, not taking advantage of her in a dangerous situation - he felt something. Not love, but something was there.

"Stay a security officer ... you make a lousy counselor."

Elaithin laughed as he took another sip of his drink. "I'm relatively certain I'll never end up with a blue shirt. I don't have the tact for it. But see, don't you feel better now that you've admitted it?"

"Actually ... no. Worse," Peterson responded, taking a mouthful of the drink he was nursing and then looking back over to his Bajoran friend, "because now I know how I feel but she won't let me get near her to say anything about it."

Elaithin leaned over the table. Staying fully up right was seeming to be a bit more difficult than normal. What the hell's in this thing? he wondered as he sipped his drink again. "Well, have you tried?"

"No," the other man responded flatly. "I don't want to make matters any worse then they are. I was going to wait until we got back to the ship and, maybe after things settled down a little, see if I can get her to talk."

"If that's the way you want to play it," the security officer said in response. Then he was forced to laugh at himself. "Listen to me. The way things are going with Heather, I'm the last person that should be giving advice."

"Marquez?" Kent said coyly, using this as an opportunity to ignore his own problems.

"From security?"

"Sanchez, you mean?" the Bajoran clarified. Then it dawned on him that he'd just broker their agreement not to tell ANYONE. " Oh, Pah wraiths!"

Peterson chuckled. "What ... let the cat out of the bag have you?"

Elaithin rubbed his ridges in frustration. "Well, crap." he said with a defeated sigh. "Yeah, we weren't going to tell anyone....it's not a normal relationship. It's more like....mutual exercise." he said, the slightest tinge of regret in his voice.

"In other words ... sex," the Human remarked.

The Bajoran nodded. "Yeah."

"You're right," Kent responded, "you really ARE the last person who should be giving me advice on this situation with Karyn." Kent chuckled to himself.

Elaithin glared at his friend. "Gee, Commander, Thank you very much." he said sarcastically. "The worst part is, I don't even know if I want it to be more. With someone, yeah, but I'm not sure Heather's that person."

"Now that is a different story altogether. And what the heck is it with this commander crap, Jii? I think you've called me that more times today than you have since I arrived on the Galaxy over a year ago."

"Habit, I suppose?" the Bajoran replied. "must be all those ingrained years of automatic deference to anyone with three solid pips. How else could I have willing taken orders from people like Dieran Casey or Chris Thomas? Without wanting to strangle them, I mean."

"You know I've heard people talk about Deiran Casey. By all accounts he was an excellent officer," Kent admitted, "somewhat of an over-achiever, but none the less an excellent officer. As for Chris Thomas ... now that's another story all together."

"Dieran Casey was an excellent officer. He was also an unmitigated ass. He, and later Thomas were my direct CO's back in my days as an Ensign in Operations. Thomas seemed to have inherited Casey's sour disposition along with the job as Executive Officer."

Elaithin said. He definitely had more than a little alcohol in him by this point. He wasn't quite sure what number drink he was on, but the wait hadn't cut him off yet. One thing was for certain - he was definitely becoming more and more free with his opinions.

"Tell me about it. I was only on the Galaxy for a couple of day and that arrogant dickhead came over and started accusing me off being inexperienced. Inexperienced?! I have been in Starfleet longer than that cocky little SOB and he had the audacity to call me 'inexperienced'."

Elaithin laughed - perhaps a bit too loudly at that. "Remember, he used to run Starfleet Intelligence. You know, I looked it up in his file once. It's all there. But for the life of me, out of all the Admirals in SI, I still cannot figure out why they appointed a Commander as Intel's acting head. BUPERS baffles the hell out of me sometimes."

"They must have figured no Founder was stupid to imitate him," Kent joked, obviously starting to feel the effects of the lager from his homeland on Earth, "so they gave him the job."

For some reason - that some remaining rational part of Jii's mind could not fathom - he found this hysterically funny. He laughed so loud and long that it was enough to draw stares from some of the other patrons.

Taking stock of the situation, Jii quickly suggested that they continue their merriment in one of their own quarters. Peterson agreed, and after the two drunkenly stumbled back to Peterson's room, which was closest (even if only by a few meters). In the small kitchen area, Peterson found a small bottle, apparently left by the quarter's previous tenant. He set it on the counter along with the two nearby shot glasses.

"What is it?" Jii asked, a bit warily.

"It's.....green" was Kent's only response.

"Killbox, Part III"
My Lieutenant Mike Pailaka

OOC: Takes place just before Brhode's triumphant return.

Gunlaug stood in the entrance of the Deck 11 lounge and looked around in disbelief. The bodies of four of his pack sat quietly side by side on the couch, each one casually holding his severed head in his lap, a Starfleet comm badge stuck in each open mouth. Whomever had committed the travesty had taken the time to arrange his friends like trophies. For prey to do such a thing to proud hunters was nothing short of an outrage. His jaw clenched and he pounded his fist on the wall, turning on his three startled cubs.

"He dies slowly!" He shouted, eyes blazing. "I want the one who did this. I want him, do you understand!"

The first voice to respond was not from the cubs, who were too intimidated by their Gamma to reply, but instead came from the mouths of the corpses, the sound reverberating through the room like a ghoulish chorus.

[Then come get me you murdering sons of bitches!]

The faces of the four Hirogen paled, they looked at one another in shock. Then Gunlaug, taking charge stormed across the room and snatched one of the badges from the mouth of a fallen hunter. It was all he could do not to crush the tiny device in his grip.

"I'm going to use your polished skull to drink a toast with your blood!" The Gamma snarled into the badge.

[Come get some] The voice dared him. [Or are you hunters too backwards to trace an open channel?]

Gunlaug shoved the badge to one of his cubs. "Skule, find him!"

The younger cub, a promising engineer and would be hunter, removed the Hirogen version of a tricorder from his belt and ran it over the badge, locking onto the signal. He crossed referenced it with the deck plans he had downloaded earlier in order to get a fix. "Sir, he's just one deck below us, hiding in one of their science labs. The signal is not moving." He looked up at his leader. "Vigrid's group is less than forty meters away, sir."

Gunlaug hesitated for a moment. He wanted the glory of this kill for himself but did not want to risk the quarry slipping away. He tapped his wrist communicator and spoke. "Vigrid, one of the prey has killed four of our hunters. He is in a science lab near you. Detain him but do not kill him. I reserve that right for myself."

[Understood] Came the terse reply.

"Let's move!" Gunlaug ordered. He broke into a run, weapon at the ready. Unwilling to wait for the turbolifts for such a short journey, he instead used one of the access ladders, half climbing, half sliding down to deck 12 below. "Which way?" He barked to Skule.

Skule checked his tricorder. "This way." He said, gesturing. "We must move from the saucer to the main hull. "I think Vigrid's team may already have him. They are in the same room, the target is not moving."

"He had better be alive!" Gunlaug muttered as he began to run faster. He envisioned the delicate blade work he would do with his skinning knife. He would keep this one alive for hours if he could, in as much pain as possible without the prey passing out.

They arrived at the designated door, marked as "Atmospheric Simulations Lab" in big block letters. It was currently closed. Not one to take anything for granted, Gunlaug ordered his cubs to either side of the door. They would do a textbook assault entry, just to be safe. If nothing else, it would be a chance to show up Vigrid's team.

"Go!" He ordered.

The Four Hirogen stormed into the lab, spreading out to give themselves overlapping fields of fire. What they found was nothing like what they expected.

The room was simple and unadorned, almost featureless except for the small adjoining office at the opposite send. A single large Human, his chest, arms and face covered with ritual markings, painted in Hirogen blood, stood at ease just through the door to the office, his face impassive. Vigrid and the other three members of his team lay sprawled on the floor, quite dead. Their faces displayed their horror, they had time to contemplate their fates, but their bodies were strangely free of any signs of violence.

"You!" Gunlaug barked in rage. "You are the one from Sreng's class!"

Mike Pailaka cocked his head to one side and regarded the fuming hunter. "Were you one of his students? You all look alike to me. One corpse is pretty much the same as any other."

"Sreng will be pleased when I bring him to you alive to hunt." Gunlaug stated, forgetting his promise to kill the prey himself in deference to his teacher.

"That will be difficult." Mike stated, deadpan. "He died first. Then there were two in the corridors, plus the four bastards in the lounge, and now these fools. That's eleven so far. You and your friends will make fifteen. A good start, ho brah?"

Gunlaug's fists clenched. He felt light headed with unmitigated rage. "Gun him down!" He ordered.

The cubs seemed a bit slow to respond but carried out his orders, raising their weapons and firing. The beams stopped inches from Mike, their energy cascading across the force field that separated the observation room from the rest of the lab.

"That's a level ten containment field, friend." Mike said, a thin smile on his face. "You can blaze away all day for all the good it will do you."

"Then we shall get the bridge to shut off your power." Skule piped in, receiving a nod of agreement from his Gamma as a reward.

"If you want to waste your remaining time that way, go right ahead. This lab has its own power source." Mike stated.

"We are hunters." Gunlaug boasted in reply. "We can be patient. We will find and shut down the power source. And then you will die inch by inch." His breathing was somewhat labored as he barked out the threats.

"You don't get it do you?" Mike said, his face hardening. "You're all dead already."

A wave of alarm swept through Gunlaug's frame. The tone of the prey's voice was too confident, too certain. The threat was real. He turned back to the doors to the lab to find them closed, as he bolted towards them, they remained shut. He pounded on them with his fists to no avail. "Skule!" He ordered, gasping for breath. "Run a bypass! Get. us... out."

Skule made his way to the door, his steps beginning to falter. "There's.. no.. no."

"No access panel?" Mike finished his sentence. "This is an atmospheric simulation lab. The controls that open and close that door are in the control room. After all you wouldn't want someone just walking in and out while simulating a planet with a volatile atmosphere, or no atmosphere at all, as you are beginning to experience. I hope you do not mind, but I bled the oxygen off slowly, instead of shunting it all at once. I wanted enough air for my voice to carry, for you to remain alive long enough to know who was killing you."

Gunlaug, now down on his hands and knees, his breath coming in rasps, crawled towards Mike. His hand touched the space between the doorway, only to be repelled by the force field. Mike squatted down and regarded the Hirogen. "How does it feel?" He asked, a touch of cruelty in his voice.

"You. are no hunter." Gunlaug gasped defiantly.

"I never said I was." Mike remarked. "I only hunt worthy prey. Insects like the Hirogen I exterminate." He leaned in as close to the dying hunter as the force field would allow. "Now look me in the eye. I want my face to be the last memory you take with you to hell you son of a bitch!"

A minute later it was over, and eight perfectly preserved Hirogen lay dead on the lab floor. Mike sat impassively behind the protection of the force field, gazing out on the quiet carnage he had wrought. Nothing he could do would be enough to balance the scales. They deserved every punishment he could devise and more, but their deaths would have to suffice.

Mike forced himself to stand, feeling every ache, every hastily healed wound from the past two days. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. But there was still a war to be fought, and while his legs continued to support him, he would continue to fight it. He made his way to the control panel and returned and atmosphere to the lab and began picking up his weapons and equipment. He wouldn't get away with the same ruse a third time and he knew it. He had to get moving. He wondered briefly about the others. Brhode, Sardar, Gustavson, the rest of the officers and crewmen. How many were still alive? He ought to send Viking an update, he realized.

And then the triumphant voice of Captain Brhode thundered across the ship's intercom like an angry god. The Alpha was dead, the Hirogen in disarray. The Big Man was back in his chair on the bridge.

It was enough to make the large Hawaiian forget all about sleep as a smile spread across his face. He fished his comm badge out of the pocket of his torn duty slacks and reactivated it.

"Pailaka to bridge. "If you are collecting corpses for transport, you'll find eight in my current location, four in the deck 11 lounge, one in my quarters and two stuffed in the crawl spaces on deck 10."

[Good work, son.] The voice of Brhode came back.

"Oh I'm not done yet sir." Mike replied. "Not until they're all gone. Sir, what they did on deck 11. You're going to need a full medical staff there, and counselors for the doctors. And counselors for the counselors."

[I get the picture.] Brhode replied. [Good hunting.] The connection ended.

Mike paused long enough to carve eight additional notches into the Newa club stuck in his belt before exiting the lab.

**** ****

Lieutenant Mike Pailaka
Helmsman, USS Galaxy
AKA
David Friedland

"The one where she's back on the ship"
by Kit Jordan

**

It had taken her three hours and twenty-seven minutes to find her cat, and when she did, Capote was curled up in a rather abused and terrified ball in the cradle of a hallow shell that at one time might have been a wall covering.

Capote was, presently, hiding under the bed which she stared at the photographs and scribbled notes spread over the floor of her quarters. She could see a story slowly beginning to take shape in her mind, the Vulcan hugging the sobbing crew member, the tattered clothing over tree branches and rocks, a body drifting face down in the bubbling stream as flowers hung down around it. She had discarded the color of the pictures; frankly, she thought most news photography was more meaningful without it.

She'd taken an hour long shower with hot water (none of this sonic crap for her), and lots of soap and suds and scrubbing-- under her nails, over her elbows, her hair over and over and over... It took forever to feel warm and clean. She's been dirty and close to freezing for most of the past however long it had been (oc: how long was it?). She got out, changed into the most comfortable pair of flannel pants she could find, boosted the temperature of her room up to about 75F and pulled on a snug comfortable tank top as she brushed through her hair and painted her nails french manicure style while she went through her 93 messages. Most were from her editor wondering if she was dead and one even included a potential obituary if necessary and would she like to go over it if she had the chance before the very next message noted her realized that if she was dead that wouldn't be possible and the one after that apologized for being such an insensitive dick and her hoped that she wasn't really dead and so on. She noticed the note that if he didn't hear from her by such and such a date then he would print it and note a retraction if necessary. The date was tomorrow and she quickly sent a message to him telling him she was alive, and then one to everyone she knew that she was alive just incase her editor didn't get it before the presses rolled, so to speak.

And then, she went to work. For a few hours Hoth would have to be in the back of her mind, being mulled over by half a conscious thought and clicked slowly into his place that no one could really pin point least of all him and not quite her.

It was the Hirogen that were to be explored now.

She shuffled the notes into three stacks, put one aside, and took the other two-- the Vulcan and the Overview of the situation. The bodies would be of the horrors of war and a first hand account of what happened while the Vulcan photograph would be a more objective approach to the circumstance, going over a soldier's survival and the pressure he has in supporting those around him and himself, the ability of those on such large ships to care for one another and act as a sort of family...

It was coming together so well in her head.

"Ebb and Flow"

Lt. j/g Brian Elessidil
Counselor

Lt. j/g Alia Drakely
Security

with much-appreciated assistance (again) by Ensign Curtis Geluf Engineering

[OOC: Occurs immediately after "The Air That I Breathe".]

Brian raced across Engineering, hoping that when he got to the other side he would find more than just one person alive.

"Alia -- I got through, they know we've taken Engineering and even better, they have a plan for slowing down the Hirogen," he stated in a rather professional tone. But while his words were directed to the attendant security officer, his eyes went immediately to his fallen colleague.

There she lay, her limp body stained with a mix of blood: her own and that of her Hirogen assailant. It was a sobering contrast to the warrior energy that she had exuded less than an hour ago.

"How is she?" Brian asked Alia, his gaze still focused on Shinta and he put his fingers to her throat to feel for a pulse.

Alia looked up at him with blank eyes. She awkwardly pushed herself up to a standing position, her sword was still firmly gripped in her right hand as if it were her one precious item in this life, which of course it was. She refused to let go of it, she needed to be ready should they be attacked again. "I don't know." Alia replied finally with an impartial voice.

Moving over to pick her dagger up from the fallen Hirogen, she carefully wiped it clean on her already shredded sleeve with the faintest of sighs. Lifting it to her lips, she brushed them gently against it and then glanced upward as if sending a prayer of thanks up. After she had secured it back at her boot, her gaze wandered over the room, taking in each body, weariness reflected in her eyes before turning them back to Shinta. This should never have happened...she shouldn't have allowed it to happen. Yet again, a person laid dying by her feet because she failed to protect them.

Alia walked slowly over to a door to take a look to see if anything was happening outside, but had to stop herself abruptly, nearly walking into it when it didn't open. She turned sharply back to Brian. "You locked them out?" She asked with a slight shake of her head before turning back to look at the door. "Let them come. I'll kill each one." She said harshly even as she knew that the statement was pure foolishness. 'Or I could at least die trying,' she thought to herself as she brought up her House sword, running a finger gently over the engraved crest.

Brian looked up. He didn't like what he sensed in her. Her mind was filled with rage and hatred. Her thoughts bordered on malevolent. Perhaps better than locking the Hirogen out, he had also locked Alia in.

Standing to face her, the counselor spoke calmly, "Alia, let them go for now. We've done what we could. You killed two of them yourself but let's not overextend ourselves. Securing Engineering was one thing but there are undoubtedly more than five of them scattered about the rest of the ship. Those are the kind of odds we can't win."

"I can try." She replied simply, her chin rising a little in defiance. Shinta was laying near dead on the floor because she had failed. The Hirogen had not only insulted Shinta with their attack on her friend, but it insulted her too. She had to seek retribution. It's what her family would demand...what her father would demand of her...it wasn't about ability, whether she could actually feasibly take on the Hirogen...it was a requirment of her House honour. Whether she lived or died was irrelevant. How many Hirogen she was able to take out was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was that she tried...did everything in her power to know that she had spent all her energy and effort on protecting that honour. She could almost hear her father's voice demanding it.

Her hand tightened it's grip on her House sword as she looked at him, her expression softened to a near plea. "Let me go...please." She asked quietly, an odd mixture of grief and fury etched on her features.

Alia's thoughts were becoming all the more clear in Brian's mind. He hadn't planned on it, but he was going to have to be her counselor again. Here. Now. In Engineering. Working against such determation fueled by a sense of honor was not going to be easy. If he outranked her, he might have had a shot at stopping her that way. But he didn't outrank her and no matter how calm her exterior, Alia was on the warpath, uninterested in listening to reason.

And he prayed he wouldn't have to try to stop her through physical force. If the trained security officer could kill two seven-foot Hirogen hunters, a 6-or-so-foot Betazoid would certainly be no match for her.

"No, Alia. I can't do that. I can't let you run blind into a ship full of who knows how many Hirogen. You might kill the next one you come across, or even the next after that, but you'd only be delaying your own death." He tried to sound as calm and reasonable as he could, but he feared it was a futile effort.

She gave him a bitter chuckle as she regarded him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Do you think I care about that? I mean -really-?" She shook her head.

"No. And you know me well enough to think that I do." She took a step closer, her body holding a perfect military stance that pulled her up to her full height as anger tainted her features. "You have no right keeping me here, Brian. Open the door." Her tone was deceptively calm.

"And what makes you think I have a 'right' to let you out??," he replied. He was trying to remain calm, but there was a slight edge to his voice. "I can sense your state, Alia. It would be irresponsible of me as a counselor to just let you run wild on the ship with that sword and your knives. If this crew is going to re-take the ship it's going to be by careful strategy, not reckless blood-letting."

Giving him a brief, cold smile, her hand unconsciously tightened on her sword. "If you can 'sense' my state, then surely you must realise that now is not the most prudent of choices to test my temper..." Her tone remained seemingly pleasant as her dark gaze bored into his. "I shan't argue with you, Brian. Let me out." Alia added, saying each word slowly and deliberately as she moved ever so slightly closer.

This wasn't going the way Brian would have preferred. His Betazoid senses clearly confirmed her warning, but he knew he couldn't back down. This wasn't the enemy he was supposed to be facing, but with every agonizingly long moment, she was certainly becoming less and less the patient he could counsel.

Summoning all his resolve, he breathed deeply and straightened ever so slightly to get every millimeter out of his 6'1" frame. His heart was racing, but his dark eyes remained fixed and his feet didn't budge a centimeter.

"I'm sorry, Alia. Even if you won't think of your own welfare, I must -- and that of the rest of the crew as well. You need . . ."

"Who the hell suddenly gave you the right to judge what it is that I need?" She suddenly shouted without any apparent effort or strain at the force her voice emitted. Her hand began to gesture with her sword as if to emphasise her words. "I should have realised that all your talk of not judging was pretty nonsense. I should have known better than to trust a..." She suddenly bit back the word 'man' that she was about to say, and after a brief moment, she instead snapped "...counselor."

She turned her back to him and remained stationary for a moment. "Fine. If you shan't let me out, I shall have to override the codes." She said with a cold, harsh voice, starting to move away.

Without thinking, Brian grabbed her arm. "NO, Alia!" He immediately knew it wasn't the best thing to have done and that things were rapidly going from bad to much worse.

Alia immediately halted her footsteps and without a moment's hesitation moved the sword so she was holding the blade across his wrist. Her eyes fixed on the hand and she when she spoke it was with a low, frost-bitten tone, the same tone that sent a chill up Jonathan's spine all those years ago. "If you wish to leave here with both arms intact, Sir, I strongly suggest that you remove your hand." She pressed the cold steel down into the skin of his wrist, enough to bite, but not to draw blood.

The sharpness of the sword against his wrist was equaled only by the wild mix of emotions Brian was sensing in Alia's mind. He was truly terrified but he did his best to simply return her fixed gaze.

All the universe stood menacingly still for a moment, as if resonating with the tension between them, until a lone voice broke through:

["Bom-bom-bom-boooooom. This is radio free Galaxy, Lieutenant Commander Gustavson with a ship-wide announcement.

I'm proud to tell you that with the battle bridge retaken a few seconds ago the whole USS Galaxy is safe and back in Federation hands. Congratulations and many thanks to those who helped making the impossible possible.

Due to the lack of personnel in all departments I'd like to ask everybody of you who is able to serve duty to report at your designated departments."]

That was it. The ordeal was over. Alia was free to do as she pleased and that was exactly what she did.

Without a single word or even a passing glance, she withdrew her sword, quickly moved to the main console, overrode Brian's lockout commands, and disappeared through the door.

'Stunned' didn't begin to address how Brian felt. Had the interruption from the bridge not come when it did, there was no telling where things would have gone. The shaken counselor wanted to believe that his patient would have somehow come to her senses and let go of the blind rage that was overtaking her. But he knew better. He could sense the intensity of what she was feeling and he knew he either would have had to back down and let her out or . . . .

He decided the it wasn't a good idea to think about the alternative.

***Elsewhere on the ship***

Curtis Geluf moved quickly and silently through the corridors of the ship, trying to reach Engineering without incident. With most of the crew on the planet and many more scattered throughout the ship, he was the only engineer available to get to Engineering. Gustavson ordered him to get back down there, since no one in the place had Engineering experience. So now he was dodging through hallways and corridors, praying he wouldn't run into any stray hunters.

Too much to ask for.

At first the footfalls sounded a little faint and distant, and anyone else on the ship wouldn't have noticed, but the Kerelian was not "anyone else" and to him, it might as well have been an elephant tramping through the halls. Curtis quickly rounded a corner, drew his phaser and waited. The sounds got closer and closer with each passing second.

The hunter knew there was prey about. He could smell it and was sure he had seen someone dart around a corner when he appeared in the corridor. The hunter made his way down the hall and turned the corner passing a doorway, which slid open when he walked past. He turned just in time to see the ensign fire his phaser, then saw no more.

Curtis smirked, "You can't sneak up on a Kerelian, fool."

Another few hallways and Curtis found his way to Engineering. What he saw was definitely not pretty.

"Great . . . guess who gets to clean UP this mess," he mused to himself.

Checking up on Shinta again, Brian looked up with a start at the 'swish' of the Engineering doors. Under normal circumstances, the familiar sound would have been comforting, heralding the arrival of someone who could help. But he was on edge after the tense standoff with Alia and with the thought still in his head of Hirogen lurking, ready to pounce on their 'prey'.

"Whoa, Lieutenant . . . relax, I'm on your side," Curtis said, half holding up his hands in reaction to the other man's startled movement.

"Thank God, Ensign," Brian exclaimed in a way that barely began to express the relief he felt at seeing the engineer. "I need your help, now," he ordered, motioning the lower-ranking officer over to where he was standing over the blood-stained Shinta.

"We've got to get her to sickbay. I was just trying to decide if it was worth risking my carrying her by myself but now that you're here we should both be able to take her without causing any further injury. Here, take her legs, I'll get her shoulders and head."

Moving into place and carefully but quickly supporting the the lower half of Shinta's body, Curtis confirmed out loud, "You're Counselor Elessidil, the one I spoke to earlier, right?"

"Yes -- so you, then, must be Ensign Geluf?" Brian replied as he supported Shinta's upper body and began moving toward the door.

"The one and only."

"This is the second time you've been there at the right time for me, Ensign. Remind me later to get you a drink in Ten Forward." Brian found Curtis to be a very likeable guy but sensed there was more to him than met the eye. He made a mental note to try and get to know him better.

The two men continued their way to sickbay, carefully transporting their Bajoran cargo as if she were wrapped with nitro glycerin packs.

All over the ship, similar scenes were being played out. Those stranded and hunted on the planet below were just starting to be beamed up. Others who had remained on the ship began the terrible task of discovering who had survived onboard and the bodies of those who hadn't. Everyone joined together trying to help get the ship, and each other, back to normal -- if there would ever truly be such a thing after what they each had experienced.

Life, as always, slowly returned at the ebb of death's horrible tide, in spite of the indelible mark carved into the sands of memory.

And nothing was more normal right now than that.

"Between Two Hawks"
By Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
Chief Operations Officer, USS Galaxy

Location, Captain's Ready Room, USS Galaxy

The last time James Corgan was in the same room with Captain Brhode they were at each others throats, ready to tear into each other like rabid dogs for supremacy of the pack. James went into that room with a deal of pride, and upon having the Captain wound his fragile pride he went back on the attack and came out with nothing. All shreds of pride were taken away, leading to the gutting of his soul and finally, his rebirth into the hawk that he was now.

How strange it was for James to find himself in the Captain's ready room, this time looking for closure. He was unsure of his new role in the universe, or more precisely his old role renewed, as a life taker. On the Hunter's Planet, he was back to being the old typecasted fighter, living and slowly dying by the gun with each recoiling kick from each shot he fired. Slowly, his old self, the passionate peace seeking, near pacifist romantic was eroded away.

The temporary loss of Lexa still stung deeply in his soul. Truthfully, James felt a part of him opened up and cut away like a malignant tumor.

And who was part of the surgery? Captain Brhode, quite possibly the most ardent warhawk of them all. He and many others like him were constantly shaping Corgan's life, telling him that the fighting and killing were for his own good, trying to sympathize with his grievances but only giving him more contradictions to mull over. In short, James was confused. His dual role in Starfleet as a caring human being and a slayer of alien scum was hypocritical and it was starting to tear him apart. Tear him apart, or have him rip out of the old shell and come out a new man who could deal with the massive responsibility of protecting the Federation and taking lives so that her citizens would not have to.

James didn't know how to deal with his new role, as a leader, a fighter and a friend to people. As an Ensign and a Lieutenant Junior Grade he only had to worry about killing, which he ignored anyways. Now his life was that much more complicated.

He hoped to sort out his confusing new role and find out what was in store for him. Who better than the man who turned him from an advocate for all the bleeding heart causes to a gunslinger that killed for the Federation?

James also had another question about the USS Odyssey, and more specifically his parents who served on board the vessel before the ship was massacred by the Jem'Hadar. It came as a revelation that Corgan barely knew his parents, despite years of living together on starships and travelling as a folk band. His mother was passive and his father was an ogre, but not much else did he know about his parents before their death. He wanted to find out what Brhode knew about his parents and find out how they died. He felt entitled to what Brhode thought of his parents and he wanted to know more about his father, the second person responsible for what he became.

Captain Brhode, as similar as he was to James, had something Corgan did not. The Captain seemed to be comfortable with his role as a life taker, and in fact he took it with so much zeal James thought he mistaken Brhode's reactions as ones from a man who was having fun taking lives away. As unnerving as that seemed, James had to find out how he made peace with himself so that he had to.

James stepped into the office, having already notified the Captain that the ship's resource report from after their splotchy repairs was going to be delivered to him personally. If the Captain had any intuition, which James thought was a necessity in their line of work, the Captain would pick up on James' questions and have the young Ops chief spit it out.

Crossing his arms over his lap, holding a PADD with the latest Ops reports, James waited patiently as Brhode spun his chair around.

"Mr. Corgan...this may come as somewhat of a radical departure from my usual demeanor, but composing letters to the family members who lost loved ones in the Hirogen assaults has left me somewhat irritible. So you'll understand when I ask you to cut right to the chase and tell me why you are standing in my ready room." Brhode said tugging at the hem of his tunic.

"Sir... the latest reports from our department, just as you requested them." James rasped nervously. What he wanted to say took a lot of bravery, and the last of his was used up on the planet's surface.

James handed over the data PADD to Captain Brhode, who eyed it passively before placing it on top of a stack of other PADD's.

"Very good, Lieutennent. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." Lieutenant Corgan politely bowed.

His first instinct was to walk out the door and not look back. Brhode was not receptive to his last arguments and even though Brhode had some twisted fondness for the Lieutenant, he didn't want to find out what unpredictable reaction the Captain was going to bring. He could go ballistic and treat James like an elderly Hirogen, or he could bring some sappy hallmark speech about loyalty and soldiers and all the crap associated with such speeches.

He came too far and experienced too much while under Brhode's command to walk away and miss the only chance he had at closure. There were too many bad memories that needed to be buried and beat down with a spade. The ghosts of all he killed needed to know what justified his violent actions, why his new (or old) destiny was in place, and why there was a killer like him in the 24th century when humankind thought they were beyond the sickening tendencies to kill others.

What justified his existence? Killing was so wrong in this day and age, and yet during the Borg Invasions and the Dominion War mankind turned their backs to such pious notions to defend their homes. But then... genocide to the Changelings and Borg were proposed.

If James was a fighter and a hawk, one born to fight wars, then how could he do what he was born to do while looking himself in the mirror and not being revolted by what he became. In a universe of contradictions, such as the Federation, James wanted to prove he was not a hypocrite.

If he bailed out of his only opportunity to find answers, he would never find out. James stopped short of the door.

"Sir... I have to ask you something before you leave." James stated calmly to break the ice, "I need to ask you about my parents."

Minor irritation flashed across the Captain's brow. He began rubbing his temples. "Lieutennent, what in the blue hell are you babbling about now? As an Ops officer, you should be keenly aware of how much oxygen this conversation is wasting."

"Sir... my parents. Lieutenant Commander Matthew Reginald Corgan and Lieutenant Maria Corgan. My mother was the Odyssey's Chief Stellar Cartographer, and my dad was the Chief Tactical Officer. You were on the Odyssey, were you not?"

Brhode's eyes darkened. "Of coarse....and I still don't see where this conversation is headed. That is only making my headache grow. Either you produce two asperin and a chilled glass of water, or you get top the point of this interaction. I don't really care which, as long as it happens in the next 5 seconds."

"Sir... if I heard your post isn’t permanent here. I wanted to ask you before you leave the ship. Please sir, tell me about them. I was at the Academy when the massacre occurred, and I never found out much about them and what really happened to them on the ship. Since you were the second in command on that ship, I thought you would know."

Brhode stood up and clasped his hands behind his back as he gazed out the broad viewport in his ready room. " Mr. Corgan, normally I don't make a habit of playing "Keeper of the Family Tree" for those in my command. For you I am going to make an exception. Why, I really don't know. Perhaps I see in you a little bit of me when I was young. Perhaps I need to have an appointment made with sickbay to have my head examined. Either way, listen up. I'm only going to do this one time for you."

James sighed, ~”At least he won’t try to bite my head off this time.”~

Brhode turned and stared at James, yet his eyes seemed lost in the past. "Your father was good at his position. He knew his job and his duty and he wasn't afraid to do either. The only thing that kept him from being great at his job was his lack of imagination. Some folks are born to lead. Others to follow. Your father fell somewhere in the middle. A solid officer none the less."

"Your mother was a bit different. She was a dreamer. I suppose that is a requisite of any stellar cartographer. She took to her job with a passion and artistry that I can only assume carried on into her off duty hours. Quite the woman." he said oddly.

James seemed to be digesting that when Brhode added: "Your father drove the crew insane talking about his son and his daughter. At one point, Captain Desaax and I contemplated a general order barring him from carrying on while on duty."

James listened intently, laughing heartedly at Brhode’s last comment. As a younger man, James didn’t look deep into his own family. He was too concerned about getting them off his case and doing his own thing to look around and see what was going on.

His family was different. They were all musicians with deep roots to Earth. His mother was the artist of them all, the creative genius out of everyone. She painted, danced and joked her way through life, treating it as one giant stage to perform on, or a giant canvas to paint. James’ father was different. He was more structured, a disciplinarian who expected results and very few impediments from his subordinates (i.e. his family folk band). He always insisted on established methods and songs, and never did foster creativity in the band. James’ mother and father were oil and water, yet somehow they were able to blend together.

Brhode’s insight on his parents was a revelation. Since he didn’t know that much about them other than what they showed on the outside, it was refreshing to know what they were like as people, to see a side of them he rarely saw before.

"Sir..." James sighed, "My father... he was... we were a bit out of step. I joined the academy just to get away from him. He was such an ogre... and I was young, what can I say? He wanted me to join the academy and go into tactical or security like he did, and I did it to get him off my back. I guess I shouldn't have done it, but I was a good shot with a rifle and... I thought I'd be wasting that talent if I went somewhere else, so I stuck with it."

Lieutenant Corgan added with a frown, "So there it is... my modus aprendi. Why I stayed in security for so long... that was in my record. Needless to say... I had an axe to grind with the universe. After that... what was I to do? I was obsolete. The war was over, and the Federation didn't need a hawk like me to f**k up their ranks... so I was sent here. After that... the killing never ended. It's like I was slogging through Chin'toka trench mud... and when I thought there was hope... the Hirogen take it away and here I am back, playing soldier boy again!"

Brhode leaned foreward, eyebrows arched. "That almost sounds as though you are saying you are not fit for duty."

"No sir... I'm fit for duty. You see, I learned from our new second in command that its not our job, it's our destiny to protect the Federation. Some civvies too scared to go out and kill to protect their homes, so I do it. So do you, and the Commander, and every starfleet officer. Yet... I can't help but think we're also a freak accident. We're supposed to be in a day and age where we're supposed to be ‘enlightened' enough not to go into this blood frenzy... but I don't see that as being right. We're too willing to fight back and kill until our planets are slicked with blood... and sometimes we're willing to kill indiscriminately."

"Sometimes, I want to wipe out an entire race, just like the Federation high command. So much for our lofty ideals, eh? We say we want peace, but we go to war at the slightest provocation. I don't mind that my destiny's to fight, but I feel like a dirty hypocrite everytime I do it! Am I right for doing what I did to the Borg, the Jem'Hadar and the Hirogen? I don't know anymore!"

“So, am I fit for duty? Physically I think I can go one on one with the best of them. You won’t find a steadier shooter anywhere. But… all that killing sort of weighs down on you. I feel guilty for killing the enemy and hating them, and I know I’m going to have to answer for that someday. My question is… how do I deal with it? What makes my job… right?”

Brhode sat back down behind his desk, folded his hands and focused all his attention on the Ops officer.

"Son, you have some problems. That much is evident even to the children on this ship. I'm gonna explain it to you just like it was once explained to me. Maybe that will help straighten your head out, maybe it wont, but I'm gonna tell you this before you end up biting down on the business end of a phaser."

~”You don’t know how close I’ve been to being there…”~ Corgan mused, glumly remembering a time he tried to hang himself with his own guitar strings.

Brhode held up his hand, fingers extended.

"Hirogen. Borg. Jem Hedar. Cardassians. Klingons. What is the common bond between them all?"

“We’ve fought them all… kicked their asses… sent them packing. But somehow, I don’t think that’s the bond you’re talking about, sir.”

"The commom bond is that at one point or another, they all have tried to ruthlessly exterminate humanity. To snuff it out. They tried to enslave and destroy men, women, children, and babies. All in the effort to expand their own empires. The only thing that stood in thier way was you and me." he said slapping his hand on the table for emphasis.

"The price of freedom is eternal vigilance, James. We must be ever vigilant for the enemy and whe the enemy surfaces, we must all be ready to stand and wage war against those who seek to remove our freedom from us."

He tugged once again at his tunic.

"What you have is a debate within yourself as to whether or not you are capable of waging war. This is a debate that those of us who have chosen to protect have all had to face. How far are you willing to go to ensure the safety of those too weak to protect themselves? Each man and woman who dons that uniform must decide this for themself what is right and what is wrong. They must balance morality against reality."

He leaned foreward. "The enemies of freedom dont argue, they shout and they shoot. We must be prepared to do the same. It isn't going to be pretty. It isn't going to be nice, but it's a damn hell of a lot better than the alternative."

Morality and reality. It all seemed so simple. To simplify Brhode’s words for James’ own understanding, Corgan learned from those words that it was all up to the soldier to decide what was morally wrong and right in a war. In essence, it determined what they considered was right and wrong about their job, and therefore gave them justification in the actions they did.

Was it wrong to kill a Cardassian who wanted to storm the de-militarized zone? Not if lives were at stake?

Was it wrong to kill a Borg who wanted to add you to its collective? No.

Then, what was wrong with fighting?

”Sir, I think I understand.” James replied, “I know we have to do some rotten things in war to protect the citizens, but it doesn’t mean I have to take some perverse enjoyment out of it. I’ve been down that path before. I beat a Borg until I splattered its gray matter all over the carpet of Medical Lab 6. It was there I started to question the morality of what I did. I guess now… you’ve made it clearer. What I did to the Borg that day was wrong, but everything else was self defense. I guess it’s a matter of overcoming my cruelty to others and fighting back only when I need to.”

James stood up, turning to the door, “Thank you sir… for the discussion. Sorry to be a bother. I have the reports done and now it’s just a matter of talking to the M.L. Landow about picking up the wounded and dead. They are going to rendezvous with us at Starbase 415. I’d also like to note that I put in a shore leave request for a week as soon as the ship hits the starbase for repairs. I have everything in Ops set up for this. It’s just a matter of sending Lieutenant Sardar to tell the base’s engineers.”

“Alright then. You better get going, Lieutenant. I think everything’s covered here.” Brhode waved him off as Corgan walked through the sliding doors and back to the bridge.

"Re-united and it Feels so. . . Nasty?"

Lieutenant James Corgan, defacto Chief Operations Officer Lt.Cmdr Lysander 'Longassedname', Chief Tactical Officer

(Sickbay)

Lysander hated coming down to Deck Twelve. The 'antiseptic' smell from sickbay permeated the whole deck. Especially as the Holodecks had been pressed into use as Emergency Triage stations for returning crewmembers.

After single-handedly saving USS GALAXY (and accidentialy blowing up Planet Doom) Lysander had spent the rest of that Alpha Shift on the Bridge, in a freshly replicated tunic and cut-off 'shorts' being ignored by Rebecca and praying that Bhrode would do the same. The list of Tactical Department malfunctions, actions, and aborted plans after the battle with the Hirogen was staggering. Over three hundred thousand 'firing options' had been logged and never deleted or read. And each one had to be analyzed and/or stored for further study before they could be deleted.

Then, our intrepid hero (stop laughing!) had spent the night in a necessary but vile task, writing letters to the 'next of kin' for all Tactical Officers MIA or KIA during this little picnic Mission.

Lysander had seen the Jem'hadar attacks on Gor'Vosh station. He'd chased Romulan agents all over the Dyson Sphere out there in teh Delta Quadrant. He'd also seen the firing end of a Borg Cube a time or two out there, and the 'Alien Hunt' abaord a crippled and dying CITY OF SAINT LOUIS was better left unremembered.

But his shit never got easier. Dealing with teh loss of collegues. Only now, Lys was a bit more responsible for their deaths.

He couldn't sleep, and going through the personnel files was better than wondering what was going on inside a certain tiny red-head. A guy could drive himself insane, trying to figure out Commander Rebecca Von Ernst. ~~~Maybe that's what happened to Corgan. . .?~~~~ He mused.

It was officially "Planet O'Doom" Day minus two. His 'Dear Missus Lockhart. I regret to inform you that Ensign Peter . ..' notes were done, signed, and queued up to be sent as soon as they got within subspace range of a beacon or station. Too many of the smeggers.

There was one more task he'd been putting off.

The ICU door 'hissed open' to reveal Lysander, with a perfect golden tan and a crooked nose, bearing a bunch of wildflowers from the arboretum.

Electra Reece hadn't moved. The biofeedback bed monitors showed her vitals unchanged, but Lysander only had to see the dull, lackluster and staring eyes, the hollowed cheeks and sallow loose skin to know that she was still in serious state. Abandoned after the Hirogen attack, apparently she'd lain undiscovered for several days before medical teams found her and removed her to Sickbay. The doctors were uncertain about her chances for recovery.

He was just arranging the flowers in a vase when the figure in the darkened corner spoke. Ignored by the nurses and physicians, James Corgan had been here since he'd come back aboard. Every moment not actually ON duty was spent either working on countless reports or by Electra's side (and sometimes both).

"Why are you bringing my girlfriend flowers?" He asked Lysander in a dull, monotone voice.

Lysander whirled at the sound of the voice.

"Because she mentioned once that she liked looking at them in the Arboretum, and I owe her one for some advice she gave me. Why the smeg aren't you sleeping?"

"Oh sleep? James sarcastically asked, I haven t had the luxury of doing that for the last few days. There were too many reports to do. I had to give Brhode a complete rundown of the condition of the ship and our supplies and that bloody well took a whole day without sleep. Then there were all the letters I had to write to families telling them what happened to their sons and daughters whom I was supposed to be taking care of. When I was done all that crap well here I am, waiting to see if Lexa will be ok while I do some of my reports."

Lysander rubbed his broken nose in confused and pensive contemplation of Reece.

"To answer your question, James added, I m not sleeping because I m busy and because I don t want to. I tried to dozed off yesterday and I.. I geez. Let s just say I don t want to go back there. It was so dark so cold and so lonely. . ."

Lysander stood there, blinking and confused at James' cryptic message. Actually, he sort of looked like Rebecca had, back in their Protocol 101 class when she'd been told that "No Thanks" was -not- the proper response to give your Commanding Officer during a formal dinner when asked to give the traditional toast.

"Sorry. I was rambling. Besides, I ll have plenty of time to sleep when I m dead." James added.

Lysander just stuck the flowers out. Plainly, he was at a loss as to how to deal with Corgan.

Graciously, James accepted the wildflowers, Sorry I snapped at you. I m sure if Lexa was awake, she would be flattered. I m glad you were able to find the time to visit. I was wondering if you would ever show up.

~~Huh?~~~ Lysander mused. Corgan must be on his pills again.

"Lieutenant Corgan. . . James. You look like shit. Really. If she came out of her coma and saw you right now, you'd probably send her back into it. Let's get you cleaned up and then you can come back here and sleep here, or whatever." Lysander wrinkled his nose. Corgan had apparently been replicating fresh uniforms for duty here, going off to do his job and then coming back here.

James surveyed his body in the mirror. Besides his scar which wasn t going to go away, he had a wrinkled uniform, messy hair and a serious case of five o clock shadow that threatened to turn into a coarse and scraggly beard. His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids held enough baggage to fill a runabout.

He dropped in weight being on the planet, as a uniform designed to fit his form from last week looked excessively baggy. His stomach growled for food,and sounded impatient in its request. The last few days were less than kind to his body and his mind, and though it was nothing compared to the damage to his soul, he still thought he was in need of some replenishment.

"Sir, I think you re right. I ve been in the bush for way too long. I don t remember when I had my last meal. I think it was yesterday morning a bagel but I didn t awww f**k it. I need a sonic shower, a shave and a few hours of sleep. I needed it as soon as I got on the ship, but I couldn t stand to leave without knowing what s going on with Lexa. You know those doctors are running around attending to the other wounded and all I got fromthem was that Lexa was in a coma. I don t know what all is ailing her and I don t want to leave until they tell me."

Lysander blinked. He didn't have a lot of time in-grade int he Fleet, but even -he- knew better than to trust a Doctor. "Shit James! I can t believe Dorthan or one of his stooges didn't fill you in yet? Shit! They even told the Old Man, who announced it to the Senior Staff yesterday!" Lysander protested.

"You re f**king kidding me! Lieutenant Corgan gasped, Well that was real nice of them. ~ Jerks ~

"Yeah. I figured that if Bhrode knew about it, you must have. They probally shat their pants thinking of him not knowing about Electra. I did't even think to ask him why you weren't at the meeting. Don't wait around on these medical types. They'll never tell you anything. Call up the EMH. here." Lysander went to the ICU terminal and hit the 'page button.

++ALL MEDICAL STAFF ARE BUSY. DO YOU WISH TO ACTIVATE THE EMERGENCY MEDICAL HOLOGRAMS?++ the computer chirped back at him.

Lysander mumbled a few choice swear words under his breath and entered some Command Override Codes. Rank hath its' privileges.

That loveable EMH Mk.I shimmered into existence.

"Who pulled me out of assisting Doctor. . . ? Oh. Bridge Officers. -That- figures. Nice nose Commander, but it hardly qualifies as 'emergency. Go break it again and I'll re-set it for you. What? Hurry up and ask whatever you have to ask. I must get back to. . . well?" barked out the bald headed 'Grinch'

"Awww frag. Did you have to call a Mark 1? He s a f**king @ $$hole. James hissed in Lysander s ear, then shot an evil stare at Lieutenant Commander Hawksley.

"All the EMH's personality subroutines available and have course GALAXY gets the one missing a 'bedside manner' module. I just yanked the only one not actually elbows deep in guts. Figures it's 'Smiley'" Lysander muttered under his breath.

"No offense James whispered, But I don t want Lexa to wake up to HIM! You know, now that I m a senior officer I can do the same thing. You think I didn t think of this idea before? I just didn t want that damn EMH to check over my girlfriend!"

"Hey, sue me. Too late for that now. Get whatever Dortahn's goobers know from this guy and we'll lose him. Maybe a nice tickle over his holoemmittor witha phaser on HIGH?" Lysander apologized, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oro..." James dipped his head in despair.

"Reece, Electra. Lieutenant. Discovered during Hirogen mop up operations on Deck Three. Blunt force trauma to cranial, occipital regions. Second and third degree plasma burns on thirty five percent of her body. Concussions are healing nicely, as are skin grafts on the plasma burns. Dehydration. Healing. Blood Loss. Dialysis and infusions ceased two days ago. Replicated new liver to replace moribund original. Functioning, body has accepted transplant. Left kidney suffered renal failure. Replacement accepted with no problems. Much soft tissue damage and hemotomas. That's bruising for you two." the Hologram replied, in a markedly snotty tone, "Skin was replicated from her skin cells and grafted onto the burned regions of her body. The grafts were, as you can see, successful. Oh, and -I- supervised most of the work, thank you very much."

"Oh gee like I never figured that out before." James struck back with an equally acted snobbish voice, "Doc I m glad you could give me a rundown of what happened to her, but can you give me anything more? I want to know what is going to happen to her afterwards. Have you guys tried. . I dunno. . Cortical Stims?"

"In a nutshell, she had the living crap kicked out of her and was left to die. We've dealt with most of the physical stuff, and we don't know why she's still in a coma, or when she'll come out. We tried Cortical Stimulation, thank you for your advice. What Medical school did you get -your- degree from? Anyways, we're suggesting she go to Bethesdea Medical Center on Earth, for nano-tech examination and psychic counseling. NOW can I get back to my job?" The hologram shot back, it is displeasure 'oozing' from every pore.

James was growing increasingly frustrated, "Doctor, I want to know how long she s going to be in this coma. I know physically she s fine. I know some of what damage was done to her. Hell, I was there to retrieve her during the mop up mission. I was there when Dr. Malgin tried cortical stimulation on her. I was there when he told me she wasn t waking up. I know what s happened to her! I want to know how long she s going to be in this coma, and I wanted to know days ago."

" Oh, well. Let me just drop everything on the -OTHER- twenty five Critical, the hundred and six SERIOUS and all the idiots like your friend tehre with cosmetic problems, to tell you what Doctor Dorthan told you. . ." Shot back the Grinch.

"Dorthan didn't say shit. Tell the man what he's asking you or I erase your program from the buffer right now." Lysander cut in.

"No... allow me. Computer, Delete EMH, Authorization code Corgan Gamma Omega..."

"Well, if you say so" Dr. Grinch curtly talked down to the Lieutenant Commander, "We don t know when she ll come out of her coma. It could be hours from now or she could be in this coma for the rest of her life, we don t know. We still don t know what caused the coma to occur in the first place. My guess is her body was damaged to the point where she barely held onto her conscience. However, I do not know for sure."

The doctor's testimony sunk in further than any information. "Years?" James asked, astonished.

"Yes. Years. Is there an echo? Years. Maybe. Maybe not." Dr. Grinch replied, "Other than her coma, she is in peak physical condition. I don t see why I should be standing here giving you a complete overhaul list on Lieutenant Reece, so if you don't mind, I have other tasks to attend to."

"Like what? Sitting on your ass in a holo-buffer?" James muttered, much to the distasteful look of Doctor Grinch.

"I heard that. Remember who patched her up."

"Yeah. Doctor Malgin. Not you."

"Now, if you don't mind, I need you to remove your Override code and send me back."

Lysander heaved a sigh."Fine. Computer, disengage EMH."

Lysander and James watched the hologram 'wink' out as it went back to its duties.

"Come on James. You're not helping her or yourself down here right now. Let's get you up to her. . .your office and go over the Operations roster. Bhrode wants a headcount from you guys, and you do NOT want Rebecca finding out it didn't get done." Lysander said, hooking one arm around Corgan's shoulders.

"I already told you I worked on my reports down here. James protested, wondering queerly why Lysander had an arm around his shoulder, "When I said I had some sleepless nights during the last few days I wasn't kidding. While you slept, I was writing letters to parents from all over the Galaxy telling them that their kids aren t coming home. It took me a full twelve hours alone to do all the reports Brhode wanted and I didn t stop. Hell, I went to Brhode myself! I did a headcount yesterday, and I can say with great authority that out of two hundred and fifty Operations crewmembers that all one hundred and thirty three of my department were injured, fifty were critically injured INCLUDING Lexa and I, and sixty seven of my men and women were killed either on the planet or on the ship. Rebecca can gripe at me all she wants. I did my work in record time. They should have a sh*t eating grin on their face."

"Yeah well, they don't. Tactical took almost as much of a hit as Ops did. Plus I have all the crap about 'expended ordinance' and the Firing solutions backlogged to go through. There was a Senior Staff meeting called, and you missed it buddy. Knowing Rebecca, she sent it to Reece's office and never thought to foreward it to you. Clean yourself up, we'll dump the last of the headcount shit on Princess Pahserbanks, clean up and have ourselves a well deserved drink."

"You know you re right. Let s get out of here. As the doc says, Lexa will be fine and I m sure they ll let me know when she wakes up. Say I have an idea. Want to listen in?" James' lightbulb clicked in.

'What?" Lysander asked, his arm going numb. Why did Terrans have such stupid 'friendship' signals? Lysander felt like Sansky during this 'buddy' thing he'd seen in holodramas.

Ignoring how strange it felt for a guy to have his arms around another guy, James continued, leading Lysander out of sickbay, How about you and I go to Ten Forward for something to eat? You know, maybe order a few synthales get some nachos. I hear Leo makes something called an 'El Leo Magnifico' Nacho Platter, and it s supposed to be great!" Then James said off handedly, "Of course, it s supposed to be hot enough to melt Lieutenant Commander Sanchez s tongue off, but I m sure that's just rumor. Hell, while we re at it, maybe I can help you with some of the tactical stuff you have to do. Believe it or not, Tactical was my minor so I know my way around Tactical reports.

James slowly lowered Lysander s arm away from his shoulder. To him it didn t seem right for a man he thought he loathed before to come up to him, give his sleeping girlfriend a bouquet of flowers and then act like he was his best friend in the universe. There was still months of rumors and distrust left to rummage through before James would fully accept Lieutenant Commander Hawksley into the fold.

Yet James didn t mind Lysander s company. He was genuine, and though rough around the edges, Lysander made conscious efforts to improve on his behavior that turned him from a brash and annoying playboy to a real and considerate friend. The grumbling between Hawksley and Corgan would never end for they had a friendship that was similar to two grumpy old men complaining about each other s odious habits (kind of like Jack Lemmon and Walther Matthau).

Lysander was a mental screw-up, just like himself, Rebecca and Lexa. He was more than flawed enough to join in the inner circle. Whatever resistance James had to the idea was all but gone now by his uncharacteristic social offer.

So, you in? James politely drew away from Lysander.

"Yeah sure. Thanks for the offer, but Princess Phaserbanks has her -own- idea of Tactical reports, and I can do that crap in my sleep. God -help- you if you mess up ONE little factoid from the 'canon' line with her. You'll be spending the next six days argueing "Which is faster, an AKIRA Frigate or a PROMETHEUS Cruiser?" when all you did was use one of them as an example -why- your hypothetical Hostile had to drop to sublight and blah blah blah. I swear she sleeps on top of a pile of blueprints. Although. . . you gotta take a shower first. You smell like Leo."

"Oh right. That." James sniffed experimentally, wrinkling his nose in disgust, "I m going to hit the sonic showers first. I ll see you soon, kay?

"Yeah. I'll save you a seat or something." Reflected Lysander, thinking that it was weird that Corgan didn't just shoot Lys for bringing Reece flowers.

"By the way... it's Prometheus. Everyone knows that." James called from halfway down the hall, wondering why Lysander was acting so nice.

Something are best left unexplained.

"A Friend in Need is . . ."
Corgan-Lysander Round Five.

Lieutenant James Corgan, Acting Chief Operations Officer Lt.Cmdr Lysander 'Longassedname', Chief Tactical Officer

(Sickbay)

Lysander hated coming down to Deck Twelve. The 'antiseptic' smell from sickbay permeated the whole deck. Especially as the Holodecks had been pressed into use as Emergency Triage stations for returning crewmembers.

After single-handedly saving USS GALAXY (and accidentialy blowing up Planet Doom) Lysander had spent the rest of that Alpha Shift on the Bridge, in a freshly replicated tunic and cut-off 'shorts' being ignored by Rebecca and praying that Bhrode would do the same.

The list of Tactical Department malfunctions, actions, and aborted plans after the battle with the Hirogen was staggering. Over three hundred thousand'firing options' had been logged and never deleted or read. And each one had to be analyzed and/or stored for further study before they could be deleted.

Then, our intrepid hero (stop laughing!) had spent the night in a necessary but vile task, writing letters to the 'next of kin' for all Tactical Officers MIA or KIA during this little picnic Mission.

Lysander had seen the Jem'hadar attacks on Gor'Vosh station. He'd chased Romulan agents all over the Dyson Sphere out there in the Delta Quadrant. He'd also seen the firing end of a Borg Cube a time or two out there, and the 'Alien Hunt' aboard a crippled and dying CITY OF SAINT LOUIS was better left unremembered.

But his shit never got easier. Dealing with the loss of collegues. Only now, Lys was a bit more responsible for their deaths. Before, he could joke and pretend it never could affect -him- and instead dream about the future.

But this time, he'd looked right down Death's throat, and seen nothing but the loss of you-know-who.

Sort of sobering.

Sort of sucky, imagining losing the biggest pain in the ass he'd ever met.

He couldn't sleep, and going through the personnel files was better than wondering what was going on inside a certain tiny red-head. A guy could drive himself insane, trying to figure out Commander Rebecca Von Ernst. ~~~Maybe that's what happened to Corgan. . .?~~~~ He mused.

It was officially "Planet O'Doom" Day minus two. His 'Dear Missus Lockhart. I regret to inform you that your son; Ensign Peter . . . Finest Traditions of the Fleet. . . Personal Effects being sent to you via first available. . .' notes were done, signed, and queued up to be sent as soon as they got within subspace range of a beacon or station. Too many of the smeggers.

There was one more task he'd been putting off.

The ICU door 'hissed open' to reveal Lysander, with a perfect golden tan and a crooked nose, bearing a bunch of wildflowers from the arboretum.

Electra Reece hadn't moved. The biofeedback bed monitors showed her vitals unchanged, but Lysander only had to see the dull, lackluster and staring eyes, the hollowed cheeks and sallow loose skin to know that she was still in serious state. Abandoned after the Hirogen attack, apparently she'd lain undiscovered for several days before medical teams found her and removed her to Sickbay. The doctors were uncertain about her chances for recovery.

Lysander heaved a sigh. Why did he care? He didn't really know Electra Reece well, at all.

But, she'd given him -that- look, when he'd told Rebecca he loved her.

Smegged if he'd let her die without -some- gesture of 'thanks' for that moment.

Lysander was just arranging the flowers in a vase when the figure in the darkened corner spoke. Ignored by the nurses and physicians, James Corgan had been here since he'd come back aboard. Every moment not actually ON duty was spent either working on countless reports via portable computer here, or by Electra's side (and sometimes both).

"Why are you bringing my girlfriend flowers?" He asked Lysander in a dull, monotone voice.

Lysander whirled at the sound of the voice. He hadn't even noticed the smegger.

"Because she mentioned once that she liked looking at them in the Arboreum, and I owe her one for some advice she gave me. Why the smeg aren't you sleeping? You look like shit." Lysander answered.

"Oh sleep? James sarcastically asked, I haven t had the luxury of doing that for the last few days. There were too many reports to do. I had to give Brhode a complete rundown of the condition of the ship and our supplies and that bloody well took a whole day without sleep. Then there were all the letters I had to write to families telling them what happened to their sons and daughters whom I was supposed to be taking care of. When I was done all that crap well here I am, waiting to see if Lexa will be ok while I do some of my reports."

Lysander rubbed his broken nose in confused and pensive contemplation of Reece.

"To answer your question, James added, I m not sleeping because I m busy and because I don t want to. I tried to dozed off yesterday and I.. I geez. Let s just say I don t want to go back there. It was so dark so cold and so lonely. . ."

Lysander stood there, blinking and confused at James' cryptic message. Actually, he sort of looked like Rebecca had, back in their Protocol 101 class when she'd been told that "No Thanks" was -not- the proper response to give your Commanding Officer during a formal dinner when asked to give the traditional toast.

"Sorry. I was rambling. Besides, I ll have plenty of time to sleep when I m dead." James added.

Lysander just stuck the flowers out. Plainly, he was at a loss as to how to deal with Corgan. Lysander was trying to imagine himself, with Rebecca in the Sickbay, dealing with a Corgan bringing smeggin flowers to the Smeggin Princess.

Not quite the same, but he could relate.

Graciously, James accepted the wildflowers. "Sorry I snapped at you. I m sure if Lexa was awake, she would be flattered. I m glad you were able to find the time to visit. I was wondering if you would ever show up."

~~Huh?~~~ Lysander mused. Corgan must be on his pills again.

"Lieutenant Corgan. . . James. You look like shit. Really. If she came out of her coma and saw you right now, you'd probably send her back into it. Let's get you cleaned up and then you can come back here and sleep here, or whatever." Lysander wrinkled his nose. Corgan had apparently been replicating fresh uniforms for duty here, going off to do his job and then coming back here.

James surveyed his body in the mirror. Besides his scar which wasn t going to go away, he had a wrinkled uniform, messy hair and a serious case of five o clock shadow that threatened to turn into a coarse and scraggly beard. His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids held enough baggage to fill a runabout.

He dropped in weight being on the planet, as a uniform designed to fit his form from last week looked excessively baggy. His stomach growled for food,and sounded impatient in its request. The last few days were less than kind to his body and his mind, and though it was nothing compared to the damage to his soul, he still thought he was in need of some replenishment.

"Sir, I think you re right. I ve been in the bush for way too long. I don t remember when I had my last meal. I think it was yesterday morning a bagel but I didn t awww f**k it. I need a sonic shower, a shave and a few hours of sleep. I needed it as soon as I got on the ship, but I couldn t stand to leave without knowing what s going on with Lexa. You know those doctors are running around attending to the other wounded and all I got from them was that Lexa was in a coma. I don t know what all is ailing her and I don t want to leave until they tell me."

Lysander blinked. He didn't have a lot of time in-grade in the Fleet, but even -he- knew better than to trust a Doctor. "Shit James! I can t believe Dorthan or one of his stooges didn't fill you in yet? Shit! They even told the Old Man, who announced it to the Senior Staff yesterday!" Lysander protested.

"You re f**king kidding me!" Lieutenant Corgan gasped, "Well, that was real nice of them." ~ Jerks ~

"Yeah. I figured that if Bhrode knew about it, you must have. They probally shat their pants thinking of him not knowing about Electra. I did't even think to ask him why you weren't at the meeting. Don't wait around on these medical types. They'll never tell you anything. Call up the EMH. here." Lysander went to the ICU terminal and hit the 'page button.

++ALL MEDICAL STAFF ARE BUSY. DO YOU WISH TO ACTIVATE THE EMERGENCY MEDICAL HOLOGRAMS?++ the computer chirped back at him.

Lysander mumbled a few choice swear words under his breath and entered some Command Override Codes. Rank hath its' privileges.

That loveable EMH Mk.I shimmered into existence.

"Who pulled me out of assisting Doctor. . . ? Oh. Bridge Officers. -That- figures. Nice nose Commander, but it hardly qualifies as 'emergency. Go break it again and I'll re-set it for you. What? Hurry up and ask whatever you have to ask. I must get back to. . . well?" barked out the bald headed 'Grinch'

"Awww frag. Did you have to call the Mark 1? He s a f**king @ $$hole." James hissed in Lysander s ear, then shot an evil stare at Lieutenant Commander Hawksley.

"All the EMH's personality subroutines available and have course GALAXY gets the one missing a 'bedside manner' module. I just yanked the only one not actually elbows deep in guts. Figures it's 'Smiley'" Lysander muttered under his breath.

"No offense James whispered, But I don t want Lexa to wake up to HIM! You know, now that I'm a senior officer I can do the same thing. You think I didn t think of this idea before? I just didn t want that damn EMH to check over my girlfriend!"

"Hey, sue me. And you can't. . as a Lieutenant you can't - get- Command Codes. Trust me, Princess Pahserbanks filled me in on -great and deep- detail exactly what the differences between a Lieutenant and a Lieutenant Commander are. Too late for that now. Get whatever Dortahn's goobers know from this guy and we'll lose him. Maybe a nice tickle over his holoemmittor with a phaser on HIGH?" Lysander apologized, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oro" James dipped his head in despair.

"huh?" replied Lysander.

"Reece, Electra. Lieutenant. Discovered during Hirogen mop up operations on Deck Three. Blunt force trauma to cranial, occipital regions. Second and third degree plasma burns on thirty five percent of her body. Concussions are healing nicely, as are skin grafts on the plasma burns. Dehydration. Healing. Blood Loss. Dialysis and infusions ceased two days ago. Replicated new liver to replace moribund original. Functioning, body has accepted transplant. Left kidney suffered renal failure. Replacement accepted with no problems. Much soft tissue damage and hemotomas. That's bruising for you two." the Hologram replied, in a markedly snotty tone, "Skin was replicated from her epithelial cells and grafted onto the burned regions of her body. The grafts were, as you can see, successful. Oh, and - I- supervised most of the work, thank you very much."

"Oh gee like I never figured that out before. James struck back with an equally acted snobbish voice, "Doc I m glad you could give me a rundown of what happened to her, but can you give me anything more? I want to know what is going to happen to her afterwards. Have you guys tried. . I dunno. . Cortical Stims?"

"In a nutshell, she had the living crap kicked out of her and was left to die. We've dealt with most of the physical stuff, and we don't know why she's still in a coma, or when she'll come out. We tried Cortical Stimulation, thank you for your advice. What Medical school did you get -your- degree from? Anyways, we're suggesting she go to Bethesdea Medical Center on Earth, for nano-tech examination and psychic counseling. NOW can I get back to my job?" The hologram shot back, it is displeasure 'oozing' from every pore.

James was growing increasingly frustrated, "Hey, Doctor, I want to know how long she s going to be in this coma. I know physically she s fine. I know some of what damage was done to her. I know what s happened to her! I want to know how long she s going to be in this coma, and I wanted to know days ago."

"Oh, well. Let me just drop everything on the -OTHER- twenty five Critical cases, the hundred and six SERIOUS and all the idiots like your friend there with cosmetic problems, to tell you what Doctor Dorthan told you. . ." Shot back the Grinch.

"Dorthan didn't say shit. Tell the man what he's asking you or I get the Captain to erase your program from the buffer right now. Or you can explain it to Bhrode. . ." Lysander cut in, leaving the threat unfinished.

"Well, if you say so" Dr. Grinch curtly talked down to the Lieutenant Commander, "We don't know when she'll come out of her coma. It could be hours from now or she could be in this coma for the rest of her life, we don't know. We still don't know what caused the coma to occur in the first place. My guess is her body was damaged to the point where she barely held onto her conscience. However, I do not know for sure."

The doctor s testimony sunk in further than any information offered to date.

"Years?" James asked, astonished.

"Yes. Years. Is there an echo? Years. Maybe. Maybe not." Dr. Grinch replied, "Other than her coma, she is in peak physical condition. I don t see why I should be standing here giving you a complete overhaul list on Lieutenant Reece, so if you don't mind, I have other tasks to attend to. You may release me now." The hologram made an imperious gesture and folded its arms, waiting.

"Like what? Sitting on your ass in a holo-buffer?" James muttered, much to the distasteful look of Doctor Grinch.

"I heard that. Remember who patched her up. Now, if you don t mind, I need you to remove your Override code and send me back."

Lysander heaved a sigh."Fine. Computer, disengage EMH."

Lysander and James watched the hologram 'wink' out as it went back to its duties.

"We should let Dorthan and that prissy little smegger explain to Bhrode what the smeg they do all day long down here. Come on James. You're not helping her or yourself down here right now. Let's get you up to her. . .your office and go over the Operations roster. Bhrode wants a headcount from you guys, and you do NOT want Rebecca finding out it didn't get done." Lysander said, hooking one arm around Corgan's shoulders to try and pull him away from the bed.

"I already told you I worked on my reports down here." James protested, wondering why Lysander had an arm around his shoulder, "When I said I had some sleepless nights during the last few days I wasn't kidding.

Hell, I went to Brhode myself! Rebecca can gripe at me all she wants. I did my work in record time. They should have a sh*t eating grin on their face."

"Yeah well, they don't. Tactical took almost as much of a hit as Ops did. Plus I have all the crap about 'expended ordinance' and the Firing solutions backlogged to go through. There was a Senior Staff meeting called, and you missed it, buddy. Knowing Rebecca, she sent the notice to Reece's office and never thought to foreward it to you.

Clean yourself up, we'll dump the last of the headcount shit on Princess Phaserbanks, before she comes down here. Or worse, tells the Old Man and -he- starts looking for it." Lysander was trying to get the guy moving without being too obvious about it.

"You know you re right. Let s get out of here. As the doc says, Lexa will be fine and I m sure they ll let me know when she wakes up. Say I have an idea. Want to listen in?" James lightbulb clicked in.

'What?" Lysander asked, his arm going numb. Why did Terrans have such stupid 'friendship' signals? Lysander felt like Sansky during this 'buddy' thing he'd seen in holodramas.

Ignoring how strange it felt for a guy to have his arms around another guy, James continued, letting Lysander lead him out of sickbay, "How about you and I go to Ten Forward for something to eat? You know, maybe order a few synthales get some nachos. I hear Leo makes something called an El Leo Magnifico Nacho Platter, and it s supposed to be great!" Then James said off handedly, "Of course, it s supposed to be hot enough to melt Lieutenant Commander Sanchez s tongue off, but I m sure that s just rumor. Hell, while we re at it, maybe I can help you with some of the tactical stuff you have to do. Believe it or not, Tactical was my minor so I know my way around Tactical reports."

James slowly lowered Lysander's arm away from his shoulder. To him it didn t seem right for a man he thought he loathed before to come up to him, give his sleeping girlfriend a bouquet of flowers and then act like he was his best friend in the universe. There was still months of rumors and distrust left to rummage through before James would fully accept Lieutenant Commander Hawksley into the fold.

Yet James didn t mind Lysander s company. He was genuine, and though rough around the edges, Lysander made conscious efforts to improve on his behavior that turned him from a brash and annoying playboy to a real and considerate friend. The grumbling between Hawksley and Corgan would never end for they had a friendship that was similar to two grumpy old men complaining about each other s odious habits.

Lysander was a mental screw-up, just like himself, Rebecca and Lexa. He was more than flawed enough to join in the inner circle. Whatever resistance James had to the idea was all but gone now by his uncharacteristic social offer.

" So, you in?" James politely drew away from Lysander.

"Yeah sure. Thanks for the offer, but Princess Phaserbanks has her -own- idea of Tactical reports, and I can do that crap in my sleep. God -help- you if you mess up ONE little factoid from the 'canon' line with her. You'll be spending the next six days argueing "Which is faster, an AKIRA Frigate or a PROMETHEUS Cruiser?" when all you did was use one of them as an example -why- your hypothetical Hostile had to drop to sublight and blah blah blah. I swear she sleeps on top of a pile of blueprints and spec sheets. Although. . . you gotta take a shower first. You smell like Leo."

" Oh right. That." James sniffed experimentally, wrinkling his nose in disgust, "I m going to hit the sonic showers first. I ll see you soon, kay?"

"yeah. I'll save you a seat or something." Reflected Lysander, thinking that it was weird that Corgan didn't just shoot Lys for bringing Reece flowers. Lys would have if the situation had been reversed.

“Med Bay Chaos”
By ACMO, Lieutenant Autumn Quevvenson

Main Medical. Chaos ruled supreme. Doctors ran from one point to another, working on patients and calling out requests for assistance and medical supplies. Autumn still dressed in her black clothes was standing in the morgue listing the names of the dead. Amy Green, Matthew Taggart, Maggie Osborn, Victor Azaria, Peter Lockhart, and the list went on and on. One name had no body to send home. Autumn sighed and listed the dead medical officer as Ensign Scott Hunter. As he had no family she would take responsibility and clear out his quarters and put it into storage until the computer found someone to take the stuff. Sighing she directed the morticians to store the bodies until she was informed of the burial procedures, from Captain Buzz Cut.

After seeing that most of the dead were stored she walked out and into her office down the hall and began up loading the names to the computer, sorting them via department. She then sent the semi complete list to all department heads. With the note of .. :list incomplete…Shall be complete when all personnel are accounted for.

After downloading the list she walked into main med bay and moved towards Sara McPherson, the young medical officer wounded while trekking around with Rose MacAllen and her band of sucks ups. Autumn was not at all happy with the fact that Sara had been wounded in the trek and her sister’s lover was still unconscious. Dierdren had been a life saver durring the time after she had been hurt and for that Autumn was grateful.

She picked up her tricorder and scanned Sara carefully. She was mostly healed. Only another two times into surgery to fix her back up a bit more and she would be fine. Riana had been in and out of med bay checking up on Sara.. Autumn was about to start calling her James Corgan the second.. after the fact that James was sitting around by Electra’s side all the time as well.

After making her rounds she returned to her office to grab a sandwich and a drink. She sat quietly taking her break, listening with half an ear to the noise from the Medical bay.

"Home again"

By

Mike, Rayna, Nikki, Miles and Gillian O'Grady Chiefs of Counseling and security, a 6 year old and a couple of 7 month old twins.

Rayna stayed hidden by the bushes, not far from the body. Hirogen blood stained her hands, her knee was a mess and her shoulder was bleeding still eventhough she was applying pressure on it. She didn't dare move from the spot, not knowing if the Hirogen was near or not. She tried to keep her eyes opened but was finding it difficult with the dehydration she was feeling. Sounds around her seemed to echo in the background as if she was drugged or something. Unconsciousness seemed to win over her. The sky grew dark and that was the last thing she remembered.

Mike was going over his department reports and beginning to draw up award recommendations for the people under his command. Silently he had been counting the number of transports when he got word that his wife was back on the ship.

He ran to sickbay, and she was on a bio bed, her clothing tatterd and torn, her body wounded and bleeding, her skin muddy her hair a shambles.

She had never looked more beautiful to him at any time.

She didn't stir. Doctors began to fix her wounds. One nurse pushed by Mike, making it known that he was in the way. The dermal regenerator was the best thing invented. It made wounds disappeared like majic. Soon, the only sign that her shoulder and knee had been injured was the blood on her uniform which wasn't a uniform anymore. She was exhausted so she'd be out for a while.

He still wouldn't leave. He may have been a dept head, and he may have wanted to get this job, but some things were worth more then his career, and right now he was looking at the one thing. Walking over to where she slept he held her hand in his as he watched her sleep.

It had to be several hours when she started to move. She groaned slightly, her body feeling as if she had been pushed from a mountain top and fell many feet. She opened her eyes, to see Mike hoovering over her. She attempted to speak but her voice was rough and scratchy sounding, "How...?"

She didn't finish her sentence. For a moment, she even thought she was hallucinating.

"You're on the galaxy we beamed you up from the planet, along with the rest of the crew."

She reached over and felt her shoulder, "Sickbay." Her next thought went immediately to the kids. She tried to sit up, "Our kids...okay?"

"Yeah, They're fine." He said, "They were in the emergency shelters during this whole thing." He kissed her forehead, "I'm just glad you're ok." He was brused up, some small cuts were still visible on his face.

He cracked a smile, "is that job on Earth still open?"

"Good." She managed to sit up and a nurse came over with a glass of water, handing it to her. She put her hand on his face, making sure he was real, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." He kissed her softly, "had to sneak around and tried to stay alive."

"I know what you mean." She ran her fingers through her hair, only to feel matted and dirty hair, "I'm a mess."

He smiled, "to me you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Maybe we should have someone check you out. I think you are delusional."

"You're alive and you're talking to me." He said softly, "I couldn't think of it while I was crawling through the tubes but I did wonder if you were alive down there."

"I had several close calls but I made it. I wasn't about to give them any part of me as a trophy. If you want to know the honest truth, you and the kids kept me going."

He hugged her tightly, well not too tight he was still scared about hurting her more, "I'm going to check with the captain and suggest we get a vacation for a few weeks."

"Hell, as long as it is somewhere that isn't a swamp or a desert." Her humor was slowly coming back. She swung her legs over the edge and sat there for a moment. Eventually, her plan was to leave Sickbay.

"I'm thinking a nice relaxing beach, put the kids with a couple of friends and we take the time to reconnect with each other."

"I'm surprised that he is still alive." She pauses for a moment, "Second thought, he is just too stubborn to die." They get to their quarters finally after everyone staring at this couple who looked like they were in WWIII.

"Yeah, I think he just told the Hirogen to go to hell and they listened." Once inside he slipped his arms around her for an embrace.

"There is plenty of time for this. I'm going to hop in first if you don't mind." She noticed how stiff her arm was and it was a bit sore but she managed to take off what was left of her shirt. She chucked everything into the recycler. Her shoes were still wet from the swamp waters and her feet were wrinkled beyond recognition.

"Not a problem." He walked to the computer and began to go over the reports on killed and wounded. Most of the counseling staff survived.

Rayna used the sonic shower to get the dirt off and then drew a bath to soak in. She felt so tired that she almost fell asleep in the bathtub. She stepped out and wrapped herself in the big towel, "Your turn." She couldn't wait to brush her teeth. She used to take things for granted but not anymore.

Stepping in he let the sonic shower fluctuate off the dirt grime and sweat. Soon he was clean and then he moved next to her to brush his teeth. "All I gotta say is Risa is looking better and better, I'm going to tell Captain Bhrodie this crew needs a long break."

"Yeah, you do that." Her voice was muffled by the toothbrush in her mouth. She finished, then went on to groom herself the rest of the way. She still couldn't help but feel grungy but that was how she felt everytime she had to kill someone.

Mike rinsed, spit and then began to massge her shoudlers as they stood together, "I still got a lot of work, maybe we can pik up the kids and just have a quiet family dinner, then we can sit down and talk if you want?"

She grabbed the bottle of mentholated foot rub and drenched her poor feet in it, "The kids. I bet they are scared. I hope that this didn't put Nikki in a frenzy." patrickb01: At the mention of her name Nikki walked home with Ensign Saunders bringing in the babies, who were beginning to focus more on the ceiling an heard Rayna's voice.

Rayna didn't have enough hands to embrace all the kids but she made due and kissed all of them. Nikki was estactic and Rayna cried tears of happiness. She really thought that she'd never see them again. Rayna was choked up which made it difficult to speak, "I missed you guys so much." She couldn't stop hugging them and kissing them.

Mike checked on the babies and saw they had fresh diapers and were fed.

Rayna finished getting ready. She put on her civvies, being as comfomfortable as she could be. She was ready as she could be. Just to be in fresh clothes, clean and everything in between, she was happy. The whole family was together agian and alive and well.

Mike put the twins down in their playpen and let them find a ball quite fascenating while he removed some fresh tea he had purchased a while back. While the water boiled he checked on Nikki again to make sure she was ok.

Nikki and Rayna sat down while Nikki had lots of questions, wondering if she had to kill any of them. Nikki was mortified that a child even had to think about killing but she would never lie to her, "Only when it came down to me or the enemy."

Mike made Rayna some tea and then sat down next to her and Nikki.

Rayna took the tea from him as her hand was slightly shaking. She looked at Mike and then back at Nikki, "Sometimes you do what you have to do to save your life. If there was other ways to get out of it, I would have done so but there wasn't any." She hoped that Nikki understood what she was trying to say. She looked at Mike. Afterall, he was the shrink of the family, not her.

Mike smiled and spoke to his daughter softly, he explained about having to do things sometimes to save yourself and he then shifted the discussion to how she was handling things.

It seemed positive. Nikki didn't realize the seriousness of their situation and that was good. She seemed to be taking things in stride and that was good.

Mike kissed his daughter on the forehead and figured she'd be ok. He'd keep an eye on her though, stress could creep up on anyone including himself. Looking over at his wife his eyes asked her if she was ok.

She nodded. It was finally hitting her but she wasn't about to let it get the best of her. She was a survivor and that was the most important thing...she was home where she belonged.

Nikki was tired, she had a long day and she leaned against Mike's shoulder seeming to doze. "Nikki honey are you tired?" he asked her.

"I want to stay here with you guys." She rubbed her eyes, as she dozed off again. She was put to bed as Rayna put the twins down. As usual, Miles fell asleep faster than Gillian.

Once they were alone Mike hugged his wife again. Rocking her getnly he kissed her forehead, "Glad you're home."

"Glad to be home. I never thought that I would be so glad to see this ship but I am. It was hell out there. I've seen things that were so terrible. I can't believe that any warrior would save body parts for trophies." The thought of the body she found gave her a shiver down her spine.

He kissed her lips softly, "C'mon babe we both need some sleep."

"I'd rather sleep. Maybe another time we can talk about it but I don't need a counselor right now...just a husband that cares." She got ready for bed and climbed in, sitting up, "I'm glad you're okay. I really am."

"Me too babe." With a kiss the two of them laid back and were soon asleep...

"Return to Normal"
by Lt j/g Arel Smith
*takes place after a jp that will be coming out soon with Alia.

There had been no triumphant fan fare over the return of the surviving crew and civilians of the Starship Galaxy. They were beamed aboard without ceremony, some to the subdued arms of family and friends if they were lucky. Everyone was exhausted. Civilians went to a crowded Sickbay or returned straight to their quarters. The crew was also checked out by medical and then most were told to report to duty or at least to give notice that they were still alive. And that, as they said, was that. Life on Galaxy resumed its semi-normal course under the glaring eye of Captain Brhode. The absence of trumpets had been the only thing that Arel Smith could find to celebrate. For Arel, coming aboard the ship had been a confliction of emotions. There had been an overwhelming relief at being rescued, followed by an overwhelming guilt for feeling relieved. Happiness that she had survived and self-loathing for how she had survived. Like a coward, which was where fear stepped up to play on the emotion battlefield. Her pride and courage at an all-time low, heroic songs playing upon her arrival might have been more than she could have endured. Other than this minor problem, her arrival was like any other beam-up, with the exception of her friend practically flying up out of nowhere to embarrass her with a hug. But on the same level, something had been off. The ship had felt almost unreal to her, like it was just an apparition of something she had ingested on the planet. Or it was like the shock she had felt after being stabbed was finally catching up to her brain.

She and Alia had talked for awhile, not that Arel could really remember what they had discussed, then she had gone to Sickbay to be tsked at for her dirty bandage, to Security to debrief, to the Widdlesteins to make sure Samantha had found them allright (although Arel had still failed to catch a glimse of Mummy)and then finally she had returned in a slight daze to her quarters, to sit on a bed that also felt unreal.

Arel sat and twirled a lock of dirty hair around her finger, which was about the only energy she wanted to spend at the moment. The sonic shower could wait a few minutes. She stared out into her room, books everywhere from the Hirogen attack, and just stopped herself from putting the dirty lock in her hair, a nervous action she thought she had forgotten a long time ago.

The Hirogen grinned...

Arel shook herself and the vision of a jungle that was no longer there and headed for the shower.

“Telling The Family”
By Dr. Autumn Quevvenson

Autumn sat on the lounge in her and Wilhem’s Quarters on the Galaxy holding a PADD with all her messages from home. There was a number from her Uncle describing the day to day running of the business. Silently she began to draft a letter to her family.

Dear Everyone,

Wil and I are fine. Things are fine aboard the Galaxy. But something has changed. I am pregnant. With twins. They are due on the 25th of September. We are very happy and Wil is over the moon with the news. Well that is all my news for now. Shall write later.

Autumn.

She then stood up and walked over and ruffled Summer behind the ears and uploaded the message to the terminal. She sent the message out with a smile and then she walked back over to the couch and sat down and When Summer jumped up beside her and curled up with her head resting on Autumn’s lap, Autumn smiled and run her fingers through her fur gently. Soon Summer was purring and fast asleep on Autumn’s lap.

After a rough week Autumn was content to let her pet sleep there, taking comfort from the warmth of the cat and was soon fast asleep as well, curled up beside the baby panther cub.

"Human nature"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price

Captain Price opened his eyes to a smiling Doctor Pulaski looking down at him from his biobed in the recovery room.

"Welcome back Captain. How are you feeling?"

Lee took in a deep breath and released it slowly. His mouth was dry, and his eyes hurt a little as they adjusted to the bright overhead lights in the sickbay ward. But otherwise he felt pretty good.

"Fine Doctor. A little thirsty maybe."

"Well you'll be happy to know that your procedure was a complete success." Pulaski stated as she prepared a glass of water and handed it to the Captain. "Would you like to see?"

Lee sat up slightly to take the glass from the Doctor. He eagerly began drinking it, allowing the cool liquid to wet his dry mouth. "Yes Doctor, of course I would." He finally answered after drinking a suitable amount of the beverage.

Doctor Pulaski held up a portable mirror and handed it to the Captain. "There you go. Good as new Captain."

Lee took the mirror and looked at the familiar image that finally reflected back at him. A smile automatically formed on his face as he recognized himself for the first time in over a week. "Hello there 'mate. Good to see you."

Looking more closely, he could see that Doctor Pulaski's skill was remarkable. He literally couldn't tell that a few hours earlier, he'd looked exactly like a Romulan. Gone was his Beetles hairdo, pointed ears and distinctive forehead. Back once again was his own human face, right down to the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

"You know Doctor, you could probably have left these out..." Lee commented as he scrutinized her work. She'd done a perfect restoration of course; putting things back exactly as they were before. Granted he was clean-shaven at the moment, but that was nothing a week or two wasn't going to correct.

"I said I'd give you your old face back Captain. Besides, I think they give you character. I mean if we made you look younger, your crew might not give you the respect you deserve." Pulaski commented taking the mirror back from the Captain.

"No worries Doctor. You have another satisfied customer 'mate." Lee smiled as he sat all the way up. "So any post operative instructions?"

"Just take it easy and try to avoid direct sunlight for the next week or so. It doesn't hurt to use a lot of moisturizer on your skin for the next several weeks as well. Other then that, just enjoy being back in your own skin.

"Thank you Doctor. You are as skilled as you are kind 'mate."

"Just doing my job Captain. I'm glad you and your team made it back safely." Pulaski nodded. "You are free to go Captain. Remember what I said about staying out of the sunlight."

"No worries Doctor. G'day." Lee stated as he left sickbay on board the USS Prospero.

Walking down the corridor, Lee couldn't help running a hand along the side of his face and feeling his "normal" eartips once again. Doctor Pulaski chuckled to herself as she watched him exit, since every patient of this type of reconstructive surgery all did the same thing. It was simply human nature at it's finest.

***

Entering the bridge of the Excelsior class USS Prospero, Captain Price gave a few nods to the crew as he made his way to the Admiral's ready room. Pausing outside the doorway, he pressed the chime and waited for permission to enter. It was soon given, so Lee stepped inside.

"G'day Vice-Admiral T'Paal."

The Vulcan woman turned slightly in her chair and glanced at the Starfleet Captain. "Welcome back Captain Price. Might I be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission."

"Thank you Admiral. The going got rough for a spell there, but we came out of it in the end thanks to some inside help." Lee played down the mission in typical style.

"I have viewed your report. You and your team should be satisfied with your performance. I know Starfleet Command was once when I informed them of the missions success."

Lee gave a nod. "So then Admiral what happens now?"

T'Paal looked directly at Captain Price. "That is why I have summoned you here Captain. To discuss your future with Starfleet."

Lee fought the urge to raise his eyebrow at the Vulcan Vice-Admiral's comment.

"I do not believe it is any secret to you that there are members within Starfleet Command that do not like your style of command Captain." T'Paal spoke evenly, without a hint of emotion at all.

"I know I'm not everyone's cup of tea. Aye Admiral."

"And still, your performance as Captain of the USS Galaxy and service to Starfleet speaks for itself. You excel and succeed under the most trying of conditions and perilous of circumstances. Your resiliency has made even your most vocal critics stand up and take notice. Your performance has earned their respect." T'Paal explained in Vulcan monotone that had the enthusiasm of a lecture on subspace particles.

"I am... pleased to hear this Admiral. But I'm not quite sure I understand where this is going?"

"Starfleet wants to promote you to Admiral and assign you to Starfleet Headquarters back on Earth. We need more officers with your experience at getting the job done to help lead the Federation and Starfleet into the next decades to assist in rebuilding the fleet." T'Paal stated. "I've been authorized to offer you this promotion."

Lee sank back in his chair. He was stunned.

***

Admiral Jergan Hoth( activated his view screen. The encoded transmission logo of Starfleet Command was soon replaced by the image of Vice-Admiral T'Paal.

"Greetings Vice-Admiral T'Paal. So did he take the promotion?" Hoth asked.

The Vulcan replied evenly without emotion. ["Captain Price declined the position Admiral. He prefers to remain a starship commander."]

Hoth was a master at disguising his emotions. He could double and triple talk with the best of them, manipulating people and situations to fit his master plan with ease. But right now, he saw little benefit in masking his disappointment from the Vulcan Vice-Admiral. "I should have figured as much. Price is one stubborn son-of-a-bitch. It's probably the one quality I like about the man."

["I could tell him the promotion is mandatory Admiral."] T'Paal suggested.

"No. That won't do. I convinced Starfleet Command that Price and his team were the ones for this mission. I sold them on replacing the officers to give us deniability on the operation. If he doesn't take a promotion voluntarily I have no choice but to reinstate Price and his teammates to their previous assignments. It's a damn shame too. Who'd of ever thought they'd pull it off?"

Vice-Admiral T'Paal's expression changed only slightly, but for a Vulcan it was quite telling. ["You selected the Captain and his team because they had the best chances of carrying out the mission successfully. Isn't that what you told Starfleet Command Admiral?"]

Hoth knew what T'Paal was getting at. He didn't particularly like what she was inferring, no matter how correct she might have been about his motives. "Yes it is precisely what I told Starfleet T'Paal."

["Then I'm sure they will be pleased as I am that your selections proved to be correct. That Price and company was able to carry out the mission without loss of life on the Federation's part."]

"Yes indeed Admiral." Hoth was forced to agree.

["What are your orders sir?"] T'Paal finally asked evenly.

"Set course for the Mako-Relli system. The Galaxy should be finishing up it's survey of the Mako Nebula soon. You can return the officers to the Galaxy and retrieve Captain Brhode there." Hoth ordered.

["As you wish Admiral. USS Prospero out."] Vice-Admiral T'Paal closed out.

Hoth leaned back in his chair and stared at the blank view screen for a long moment, calculating his next move. He had honestly hoped Price and his crippled second officer would be killed on this mission. That would leave Captain Brhode in command of the Galaxy where he could continue developing his star pupil's tactical talent. Having survived the mission, he'd have to pull Brhode and assign him elsewhere. This was definitely going to throw a wrinkle into his overall plan.

"I'll have to notify my superiors of this..." Admiral Jergan Hoth( verbalized to himself. He then called out, "Computer, open an encrypted channel to Starfleet Intelligence. Security code Hoth, gamma, alpha one.

The computer beeped and the hail began to go through while a serious Admiral Hoth stared intensely at his terminal's view screen.

***

Captain Price entered the ship's lounge and for the first time in a week was honestly able to relax and be himself. It had been one hell of a stressful mission. Going undercover at an alien world always was, but this mission seemed to be a pressure cooker from the moment it was assigned. Now it was over. The danger had past, he and his team had triumphed and it was time to unwind and relish the fact they were all going home to the USS Galaxy.

"G'day 'mates. Mind if I join you for a pint?"

Counselor Dallas turned and smiled at Captain Price. She was sitting off in the corner of what the Prospero crew called the Crash Lounge, looking out an observation portal at the passing stars, but also at her own, familiar reflection off the transparent aluminum panes.

"Of course Captain. Pull up a chair." Karyn stated.

Lee did, taking a seat and noticing that Karyn had abandoned her power legs for her hoverchair for the trip home to the Federation and the USS Galaxy.

"Decided to take a load off, 'ey 'mate?" Lee smiled pointing to her legs.

Karyn nodded. "Yes. It's a lot more comfortable then standing all day."

"I just wanted to let you know you did a bonzer of a job on this mission 'mate. I think I can honestly say if it weren't for your Romulan language skills, things would have turned out a lot differently then they did."

"Thank you Captain. I was glad to be of service." Karyn replied and then grew quiet once again.

"Anything wrong 'mate? Usually you'd be talking my ear off right about now." Lee smiled trying to inject a bit of humor into the conversation.

"No Captain. I'm fine." Karyn lied. She had a multitude of things on her mind at the moment. The stress of the mission, her own inner struggle with her alter ego Colonel Jarol, who's voice she could still hear inside her head giving advice, Commander Kent Peterson's kiss... It was all very confusing. "I'm just a little tired from the mission I think."

"Perfectly understandable Counselor." Lee stated leaning back in his chair in a relaxed posture. "I'm pretty bushed too. I'm looking forward to getting something *human* to eat and then taking a long hot bath and calling it a night. Vice-Admiral T'Paal has us heading back to the Galaxy as we speak. We should meet up with her in a couple of days."

"I'll be glad to get home again sir." Karyn stated while staring out at the stars once again.

"I hear you counselor. I hear you." Lee agreed.

"Beam Up for the Injured"
by Lt. Brightspot to-Srallansre
, Lt Jg Nosemaj Nna Yllek, Pakled Tactical Officer (NPC),
Ensign Shamus O'Callaghan, Transporter Operator (NPC)
--------------------------------------------------------

Nosemaj jumped in surprise when she heard the sound of a transporter beam, and spotted two combadges appear on the ground about four metres away.

When one of them chirped, she raced over, picked it up and tapped it.

"Hello?"

[ This is Lt Jg O'Callaghan from Transporter Room 2 aboard the USS Galaxy. Please state who is there.]

"Umm.. Ensign Nosemaj Nna Yllek and Lt Brightspot to-Srallansre. The Lt is badly injured and unconscious."

[Okay, Ensign. I have just bumped you two up on the recovery list. Please attach the combadges and we will alert you when we can. I can have the cargo bay use the cargo transporters to send down a medkit for you. I'll route you through now."

Once she was in contact with the cargo bay, she requested a couple of extra items, including a field splint, some warm blankets, a waterproof tent, some food and a water tank. In addition, she requested a padd with a refresher course on field medicine.

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

Once the equipment was beamed down, Nosemaj put a blanket over Brightspot and started reading up on the padd.

Once she was able to ascertain which vial in the kit was for pain relief and which would wake up the injured Sivaoan, she gave Brightspot a hypospray of stimulant.

After a few moments, Brightspot shuddered and managed to open her eyes. Meowing plantivly, she moaned for some water.'

"Okay, but me read you should stay still."

Brightspot groaned, "Something shallow then. My toungue can reach."

Nosemaj poured some into a shallow dish and Brightspot started slurping it up with her long toungue, like a terran kitten.

After her throat wasn't so parched, Brightspot lay back on the altar.

"Now, me have some pain medication until they beam us up. Hopefully soon."

Brightspot nodded a little and after the pain medication kicked in, she felt a lot better. Nosemaj followed directions from the padd and put a long splint on Brightspot's damaged tail, trying not to hurt it anymore but it hurt Brightspot a lot anyway.

All of a sudden, Nosemaj's combadge chirped, [ Lt Jg O'Callaghan to Ensign Nosemaj, we are ready to beam you two up now.]

"Okay. Brightspot has busted tail, so please be careful."

[Sure. You will be going directly to Sickbay, where the Lt can be treated. Is she awake at the moment?]

"Yes."

[Good.. When you get there, let the doctors know exactly what treatment she has had already. O'Callaghan out.]

A few moments later after Nosemaj had closed and picked up the medkit, the transporter beam locked onto them and they appeared in Sickbay. Some nurses gently lifted Brightspot up off the deck and put her on a biobed.

One of the nurses questioned Nosemaj while another did a scan of Brightspot's injuries.

"Judgement Day"
Part Four
by
Lt. Commander James Mitchell
Chief Science Officer

The rain began to fall again. It started as a slight drop, felt in passing as it made it through the thick leaves of the cypress trees reaching so far above. Then it fell steadily faster, beating on the upper branches of the trees, streaming in rivulets down the veins of the leaves, to reach misty proportions far below the forest ceiling.

The sky darkened in ominous foreboding as dark clouds rolled in anger. Thunder resonated, shaking the ground below. Lightning raged about among the grey and black, reaching across the sky; breaking it open as if it were ice.

The rain pelted the landscape with ferocious fury, washing all that was alien away, back into the bowels of the earth. The remains of Sum Yung Guy broke up as the dried blood that caked on the rocky terrain flaked off and flowed away to nourish the earth.

Deep inside the forest, the mist flowed through the air like a living thing. Gathering on the roots of the tree, it washed the brutalized bole of the sins surrounding it.

Liddle Bul'zi had released the trap he'd been a living spring for. At the moment of his death, two huge limbs had swung down from above, sharpened edges had converged on a single point which was now awash in the darkened blood that even now was being diluted with the natural springs of the planet as it condensed on the greying wood, turning it a charcoal with saturation. The water streamed down canals in the roots and aged wood of the tree, dark with blood of human and alien alike.

The hulking body of the alien lay crumpled at the base of the tree, the top half of his body crushed by the weight of two enormous logs that had met their target as the trap had been released. It's head no longer existed; scattered remains of its helmet were all that remained. The tissue had all but been washed away in the pooling mist to be absorbed into the planet.

The second Hirogen lay beside him, having seen his brother cleaved from inside the molehole. The second trap had fallen then, dropping a cage over the entrance. Fewl had easily blasted this away and rushed to his brother, forgetting all else. This had cost him his life in the process.

A backup trap had been in place, and this was the one Liddle did not set off himself, but the blaster did by cutting the second rope. Intended for the situation of the enemy actually entering the molehole in search of one of the party.

As the cub had rushed out of the makeshift portcullis, he'd set off a chain of events which had resulted in a giant ball falling from above, covered in spikes fashioned out of wood and the flint-like substance tied together like a ball of yarn. The ball had swung down and in the Hirogen's emotion of seeing his brother laying dead before him, he only caught the ball coming out of the corner of his eye.

It slammed into him, breaking the weaker areas of his armour, piercing him in a dozen areas. Arm joints, neck, splits in his chestplate. It had partially severed his arm at the elbow and it lay dangling beside him, clinging only by a strand of fabric. Essol didn't die instantly, but gargled on his own blood for several minutes. Shattered remains of trophies from both lay scattered about the area.

A man watched the two die with contempt as Liddle had set off the traps, the rain dripping down off his brow, hair matted and caked with leaves as they held to the curls. Satisfaction churned in his gut as thunder crashed above him, the energy of the lightning surging through him transcendentally, lending its encouragement and sharing the anger and disdain it felt for the intruders in this strange land.

On the other side of the clearing stood the gargantuan leader of the Alpha, heaving chest, fists clenched at the site befalling him. Unlike the cubs themselves, he wouldn't fall into the trap of losing focus on the hunt.

"Hajj." He had pulled a communicator from his pouch as he glared at the human standing several meters ahead of him. They both watched each other closely. Sizing each other up in the standoff.

"Yes, my Alpha?" The only other surviving member of the hunting party responding curtly.

"The cubs are dead. Destroy your prey. We have lost the element of numbers." The man across from him hopped a log and disappeared into the bush.

"Yes, my Alpha! I will obey!" The anger resonated in the females voice. These were her cubs that had been killed. Her children. One could only wonder how Drewl felt at seeing his cubs laying dead at the hands of the infidel prey. He wondered if it may have been prudent to introduce her to the knowledge of the cubs, but he hoped her seasoned abilities would allow her to utilize the anger for the better. Drewl wanted this hunt over. NOW.

These humans had taken his family, and now he was going to make them pay. The thunder and wind howled their cries of the hunt in response.

"Musings"
by
Lcdr Navarre- Maxwell Shinta

Pain, that was the only thing she felt. As stabbing pain in her stomach, and another shift of agony in her shoulder. Sometimes she thought she heard voices, Alia and Brian. Shinta heard anger and shouting. That couldn't be, her friends couldn't be fighting each other. She was too tired to really hear what they were saying, but the anger bothered her.

She drifted of for a second. Then came half awake again. Dieing was so easy, to just let go. A short time ago, it had been exactly what she wanted. Counselling James had brought all the old pain back, had opened up the half closed wounds. And this last fight hadn't helped, the Hirogen had forced to to become an assassin again. To kill, and she had felt the pleasure of the kill again. It revolted her.

Yet there were reasons to stay alive. Gavin and the twins, Bruce would never be able to look after them alone. He was a good man, and a good father, but those children needed a mother. For them she would have to hold on. She thought about her husband, the last couple of weeks they had been growing apart, and she didn't know why or what had gone wrong. He loved her, and she loved him, yet somehow it was not enough.

Vaguely she heard a voice close to her ear, it sounded like Brian again, but she couldn't be sure, too tired. Brian, Alia, Karyn, Rose and all her other friends, she couldn't leave them. She had friends now, people who truly cared for her the first time in her life, and she was not going to give that up.

More pain, somebody was moving her. She wanted to cry out, asking them to stop, but no more then a whisper or a moment passed her lips, and they obviously didn't hear her, because the pain didn't get less. Was it good? Did this mean she was getting help? If only she didn't feel so weak, and in so much pain, Shinta desperately wanted to reach somebody. But for now all she could do was to allow them to carry her like a sack of potatoes.

"Guilty?"
by Lt. Cmdr Ragnald Gustavson, Chief Helmsman

The last hours were like hell. Ragnald spent them left alone with only one Ensign from engineering - Curtis Geluf on the Galaxy's bridge. He was in charge, the highest ranking officer who managed to stay on the big old lady. He was responsible for those crew mates who managed to escape the Hirogen intruders or stayed alive already caught. He had to make decisions. Popular ones, unpopular ones, decision which saved lives and even decision which cost the lives of crew mates and even friends.

The moment he stepped into the turbo lift, the red haired chief helmsman knew the longest and most exhausting shift he ever had came to an end. The Captain was back and so he was able to step back, to get out of the front line.

*** Senior officers' quarters ***

Few second after the turbo lift door hissed open on the deck Ragnald used to call 'home'. He carefully, he looked out of the door and suddenly felt rather disoriented. Was this the same corridor he walked few hours ago heading to the bridge for duty? Was this the same corridor he walked almost every day for the last years?

Memory is an odd thing. In your imaginations things use to appear shinier, smoother, brighter, nicer. On the other hand there weren't any ceiling panels dangling or missing. There weren't any black energy weapon marks decorating the walls. There weren't any tools spread around, no blood and no debris. The place he once called home rendered into a battle field.

Two crewmen passed him, carrying a large black body-bag. What or better who was in that bag? A Hirogen? A fellow officer? How much of his neighbors were already carried away in bags like this? Till now the six crew men killed in the show execution on the bridge were the only human he ever watched die as the Hirogen guarding the bridge were the only life-forms he ever killed personally. Ragnald knew there were more casualties, more names of friends listed on the MIA and KIA report, husbands and wives, children and parents c rying over the loss of their relatives. There were no heroes pathetically reaching the sacred place of Walhalla - just sorrow and pain.

Sorrow and pain he felt guilty for.

Suddenly this pain seemed to overwhelmed him like a dark rain cloud. With last effort the helmsman of Viking heritage, expected to be exemplary to his department managed to reach his quarters fell on his bed and cried - cried like a baby.

“Revenge of the Newts”
By Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Operations, USS Galaxy

Guest Starring:
Lieutenant jg Arel Smith
Security Officer, USS Galaxy

And three disgruntled and lovelorn creatures (read on and see who they are. ;-P ) Unauthorized use of their leader, but authorized use of the 'creatures'.

Location: Lieutenant Corgan’s quarters.

Out of all the strange happening in the universe, the Galaxy held a major stake on the Federation’s portion. And out of all the people on the Galaxy, few others could compete with the weirdness magnet attached to one crewmember.

James Corgan, reeking of body odor and sprouting hair on his face he usually kept under his skin, was heading to his quarters to freshen up. Days of sweat, hair and stink clung to him like a second epidermis, fragile enough to be peeled off yet strong enough to stay on without a sonic shower.

This was where his obsession with Lieutenant Reece brought him. Finally accepting some trust in the doctors that cared for her, he left her in sickbay. He couldn’t ignore his body much longer. It needed food, it needed a shower and it needed a close shave. His stomach was growling ‘feed me you stupid f**k’ over and over until he finally yelled, “OK!”

Nobody heard him. Thank god. Everyone thought he was loony enough as is.

He was just meters away from his quarters, thinking about the heated caress of the sonic shower against his body. He hadn’t relaxed since the Hirogen hog tied him and threw him first into a storage locker, then onto an uninhabited planet. To say he was looking forward to the comforts of home was an understatement. Though he didn’t look forward to coming back to see his 1997 Fender Strat in a broken heap again, he was nonetheless happy enough to enjoy a hot shower.

~”Food… shower… bed… good…”~ His mind was too impatient to make up complete sentences, so it blurted out key words like a simple Pakled.

He had only a few more meters to go to his quarters.

~”Finally…”~ His brain re-booted itself to speak tangibly, ~”I can relax for a few minutes before I get back to the grind... wha?”~

*click**click**click*

That was the metronome sound of his weirdness magnet attracting another strange happening.

James Corgan paused, marveling at how yet again his life took a twisted turn to the bizarre. There was a sight so strange, so shocking he stopped in his tracks and gaped blankly at it. He couldn’t turn away. It was so out of the ordinary that he thought he saw it all.

*click**click**click*

There were three newt like creatures at James’ doorstep. Each one was a meter and a half in length, with a purplish brown pigment in their slick, salamander like skin. Their heads were as flat as the bottom of a communicator pin, and topped with two bulging eyes on each one. Thick scarlet red sacs protruded on each of the creatures’ necks, bulging in and out as air circulated through their body. Thick tails flicked and whipped the corridor carpet as their sharp claws dug into the floor. The creatures showed off wicked rows of dripping and sharpened teeth as tongues moved and clicked in their mouths.

*click**click**click*

One of the lizards was courteous enough to move out of James way as he moved for his door. The door swished open, inviting James in to a room with an inviting bed, a sonic shower and a functioning replicator. Their call was powerful, but not as hard to ignore as the slimy being’s infuriating clicking.

*click**click**click*

Three sets of eyes stared evilly into James stunned slate colored iris’s. He wanted to look away. He didn’t like it when other people tried to look into his eyes. They could read too much from him, and he knew those newts were up to no good.

*click**click**click*

“Well… this is strange. Who’s pets are these?” James groaned at each newt, “Go home. I have things to do.”

*click**click**click*

“You’re Seth’s dinner, aren’t you? I’m not offering you safe harbour. Leave!”

*click**click**click*

~”Why the hell are they doing that?”~ Lieutenant Corgan pondered, listening to the menacing clicking sound as the head newt shot imaginary phaserbeams through his soul, creeping him out. They were well trained animals, and they didn’t look friendly. James’ hand hovered towards his communicator badge, but then stopped.

“I don’t know who or what you guys are… but you must be lost. Go home. Go back to your master… or whatever you call him… or her. Shoo!” James waved his hands, pointing towards the other end of the corridor, “You heard me. SHOO!”

*click**click**click*

“Awww for f**k sakes… I don’t need this. I’m hitting the shower.” Corgan surrendered. ~”Let the owner handle this. Probably Lieutenant Zonheib’s food running away. Can’t say I would blame the poor buggers for this.”~

*click**click**click*

“And please… stop that damn clicking!” He sighed, letting the doors swish close and block the newts from getting inside.

Oh now he done it. James just ignored the newt’s mate fighting rituals. The newts, with their supreme leader Gin’Grich were absolutely pissed off, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near a pissed off Newt alien.

Of course James was blissfully unaware. He hurried into the shower and allowed the sonic vibrations to wipe away days worth of accumulated filth, without a thought about the hostile creatures surrounding his doorstep, and why they were there.

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

Fifteen minutes later, James Corgan was a new man.

He smelled nicer than before, with a subtle hint of aftershave on his smooth cheeks. His hair was parted down the middle and combed towards each ear and cut just short of his eyebrows. His blonde locks were freshly cut and neatly arranged to accent his face and partially hide his knife scar on the right side. He wore a fresh uniform, still baggy after days of living on little if any food in the jungle, his pips and comm. badge shining brightly from a new coat of Pipshine.

(Pipshine is a trademark of Hawksley Industries, 2356)

Beaming with optimism and holding with him his favorite PADD, James exited his quarters, looking forward to going to Ten Forward for a decent meal.

His good mood quickly vanished as the metronome sound of the Newt’s constant clicking stopped him dead in his tracks. This time, they were blocking his access to the corridor and they looked more angry than ever.

*click**click**click*

“Don’t make me call Lieutenant Zonheib on you all.” James warned. His words didn’t stop the Newts from ceasing their foul noise.

*click**click**click*

“I’m serious. Go away.”

*click**click**click*

“Fine. You asked for it.” James tapped his comm.badge, “Corgan to…”

He was cut short by the head newt. Gin’Grich clicked and squealed out commands, turning his head his flanking companions. The other two newts immediately stopped their threatening noises. The head newt nudged from under his body an electronic device. It was scuffed and battered from age and rough use. With its sharp corners, amber brown casing and sharp red alien letters, the device was unmistakably Klingon in nature.

The lead newt coughed once and spoke gutterally into the communicator.

“Today is a good day to die.” He said with loathing for his intended receiver.

~”Maybe I should cancel dinner with Lysander and get some sleep. I’m starting to see and hear things again.”~ James thought.

But conscience was there to clear up any confusion, ~”Sorry Broken Head. I’d know if that was one of us. This is very real.”~

~”Awww frag. Why me? I get all the strange cases around here. No wonder people think I’m crazy.”~

“I SAID TODAY IS A GOOD DAY TO DIE! ANSWER ME P’TAK, BEFORE I KILL YOU HERE AND NOW!”

“Yeesh! Will you calm the f**k down? It’s not everyday a bunch of overgrown lizards talk to me, so cut me some friggin’ slack!” Corgan snapped defensively.

The head newt wanted to cut to the chase, “You there. Are you the great demon slayer Corr-GAN? We are here to seek him out.”

“Whoa… wait. Corgan the demon slayer?” James asked, miffed.

“Yes. We have heard stories of your exploits, oh most honored warrior. We have heard from our scouts on how you have defeated the strongest of the Demons, the one called Lee-tog. Your mistress has told us about your exploits with the Jem’Hadar and the Borg. We come here to seek this warrior. Are you he that is so exalted that the great goddess Arel would choose to make you her own?” Gin’Grich asked back with a noble air, worthy of the great Kah’less himself, and puzzling James as to why they sounded so Klingon-esque.

There was too much for James to digest in the few seconds mentioned. He paused, trying to make sense of all Gin’Grich said. It all sounded so fanciful, yet in a way it was true. James did kill Jem’Hadar, Borg and ‘demon’ Hirogen. If that qualified him as a warrior, then who was he to argue. The parts that worried him were the inaccurate parts. The last he checked he didn’t personally know a Lieutenant Arel Smith, though he heard about the Klingon wanna-be and he used to work with her in security. As far as he knew, she was not a goddess of anything, and he was most definitely not a part of her property.

“Huh? Arel owns me? That’s the first I heard of it.” Lieutenant Corgan laughed, “Ok, who set you guys up to this? Lysander? This is his doing, isn’t it?”

“Ahhh… the one owned by the two smaller females…” Gin’Grich shared a chuckle with his newty friends before continuing, “He was there, but it was the great warrior goddess Arel who announced that you were part of her property.”

“What? I’m sorry… the last I checked I wasn’t owned by Arel. I’m really the property of… the great sleeping beauty Electra Reece. Perhaps you have heard of her? She is renown for being the most beautiful woman in all the lands? She owns me… not this pretender Arel. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must meet another… newt at Ten Forward. Fare thee well!”

“STOP!”

The newt’s commanding presence took over, shocking James with such a bold statement. The newt slithered over to Corgan, staring him down from foot to… knee (it was all his neck could bend to). “You act like a P’tak. I am disappointed. I see that you are not worthy of being owned by the great Arel Smith. I see no choice but to kill you where you stand and barter with her for our slavery.”

“What? Don’t I have a say in this? I… hey!”

Hissing wildly, Gin’Grich snapped his jaws at Corgan’s pantleg. James narrowly withdrew his leg and stepped back in time to miss a poisonous bite to his calf. Meanwhile the other newts crawled closer, flicking their tongues and hissing sharply, their poison sacs growing a brighter cherry red.

“You will go to the Barge of the Dead for your dishonor, Demon Slayer…” Gin’Grich cursed.

“Wait!” James stammered, darting away from another deadly bite, “Arel… my goddess… she is not merciful! If she hears that her favorite slave is killed by you, she’ll rain firebolts from the sky and strike you all down!”

Collective gasps came from all the newts. They were awestruck by the insane human’s assumed power over the goddess, forgetting that he denied being her slave in the first place, “She’ll strike you and your friends down, and you will never get to experience the true ambrosia of servitude towards her! I ask you to stand down and heed my warning before it’s to late!”

Astonished, the leader of the newt’s poison sacs deflated. He stood down in amazement, and most likely, in fear of his life.

”No… I would not want this to happen.” Gin’Grich diplomatically said, “Do not enlist her help. A warrior would be foolish to fight her.”

”That’s what I thought… now let me contact her. Maybe I can straighten all of this out for us, ok?” James asked, his hand hovering over his comm.badge.

“Yes… you shall.” Gin’Grich replied, “You may speak to her, but we will escort you.”

”No need. Her voice comes from the heavens.” James waved the newts off and tapped his badge, “Lieutenant Corgan to Lieutenant Smith. Please respond.”

There was a pause before a muffled voice answered "Smith here."

The newts stared up at him, awestruck at what they heard.

“She does have unimaginable powers! She must be a goddess among her people!” Gin’Grich bowed, flicking his tongue out, “Exhalted one! I hear your call!”

“What was that?” Lieutenant Smith asked.

“Ummm… Lieutenant…” James acted submissive for the benefit of his own life and the entertainment of the newts, “I just had the most interesting conversation with a pack of newts today, who just happened to be at my doorstep right now.”

Another pause before a string of Klingon expletives came through.

“She speaks the unholy words!” Gin’Grich hissed in fear.

“We won’t get to die like warriors!” Another newt gurgled.

“Yeah… I thought you’d be thrilled Lieutenant.” James sighed, “Ummm… mistress… it seems to worship you, calling you goddess and all, and they think that you… own me. Now, I don’t claim to actually believe what they are saying but they are taking this way too seriously. They tried to bite me for frick’s sake! And… they keep saying they must get me… out of the way so to speak so that they can become your servants. Care to elaborate, Lieutenant?”

Arel sounded embarresed. "I may have told them you were my (cough)boyfriend so they would leave me alone."

”You did WHAT?!?!” James sputtered, “Fragging hell, Lieutenant! They’re trying to kill me to get to you! Don’t you have any foresight? What the hell was you thinking when you told them I was your boyfriend? Now your little lie is going to get me killed if I’m not too lucky!”

She sighed. "I suppose I wasn’t thinking clearly."

”Look Lieutenant. I have nothing against you, and I’m flattered that you choose me over all the men on this wonderful starship

"Actually" she interupted "You can thank Hawksley for that one"

James turned as red as the newt’s neck sacs. ~”Hawksley! Why am I not surprised?”~ "But these newts" James continued, "Are love lorn and they see me as an obstacle to kick out of the way. I don’t want to defend myself and I don’t want to be killed by them, so would you be able to say some words to them to get them to stop?”

"Such as?'

”I know…’ James thought of an idea, and spoke in a hushed voice to his communicator, hiding his face from the newts and turning around so that they wouldn’t listen in. “Dump me.”

"What?"

”I won’t ask for anything more than for you to get them off my case. All you have to do is renounce me so that they will think they have a chance with you. It saves my ass, and I promise I’ll try to get the newts to stay away from you. Now dump me dammit! That’s an order!”

"Yes sir." Arel automatically replied.

“Hold on.” James whispered, “Let me patch this through to the nearest comm.panel. Make sure the newts get the message.”

There was a pause before the nearest COM screen blared out her booming voice. She spoke loudly and clearly "What do you mean that you will not defend my honor against these newts! Have you not any semblance of courage man!"

“Mistress… I have slayed countless demons for you! Please don’t abandon me! I need you!”

"Of all the warriors in the universe, I had to choose the chicken-shit one, you pathetic p’tak! You are not worthy of my (cough) love."

“But Arel, my (ugh) dearest! I must have another chance. Please let me prove to you that I am worthy to shower devotion on you! Please!?!”

"You disgust me! I should just let the newts take you!"

“Oh no! Not them! Anything but them!” James wimpered.

The newts started slithering in anticipation.

"But that would only tarnish them, for they are great warriors unlike SOME people I know. I would not want to taint their reputation as the fiercest warriors in the universe by having them kick your sorry ass around this ship"

Gin’Grich’s confidence perked up, as did the rest of the newts. They enjoyed watching their revered goddess dress down Lieutenant Corgan. Ship crewmembers passed by and watched the display, and as luck would have it, caught the only keywords that mattered.

”LEAVE ME FOREVER! And tell those newts… ka’plak! Lieutenant Smith out!”

The newt’s disposition was now more shiny, as James put on an entertaining show of sadness and despair. Years of experiencing the real thing gave Corgan an acting advantage, showing off their farce in a convincing light.

To top off his performance (because his life depended on it), James gasped in horror, slinking off towards the nearest turbolift. The newts followed him, slithering and clicking their tongues along the way.

“We are saddened by your loss, Demon Slayer. We know you are a wise warrior and your exploits are worthy of song. To lose favor with her must indeed by dishearting.” Gin’Grich tried to console James.

“You have no idea…” Lieutenant Corgan cracked a grin, out of sight of the jubilant newts.

“But look on the bright side…” Gin’Grich slapped a tail on his thigh for victory, “We can now prove ourselves in her eyes! You must tell us how to win her heart! How many demons must I slay before I am worthy of her?”

“I’ll tell you guys later…” James grumbled, suppressing the urge to laugh in their faces, “Go to the turbolift. I will meet you there.”

The newts slithered off into the opposite direction. Using well co-ordinated teamwork, they newts jumped on each other’s backs in order to touch the buttons on the turbolift. With translator in hand (or more specifically, in Gin’Grich’s mouth), the newts disappeared.

Covertly, James tapped his comm. Badge, “Corgan to Smith.”

"Smith here. Everything okay?" Arel whispered over the comm badge.

“We put on quite a show. Now they pity me and they want to know all about you. I’ll… try to get them off your case. See you soon.”

"We are finished Corgan! Smith out." She tapped her comm off, much to the relief of Lieutenant Corgan.

“Amen to that…”

The newt’s boisterous yelling invaded Corgan’s eardrums, bellowing, “Demon Slayer! Come! I want to challenge the great slayer to a wrestling match. Do you have the ridges of a warrior to stand up to me?”

“Awww… frag.” James sighed, seeing as his problems were far from over.

"The Goddess has a headache"
by Lt j/g Arel Smith

The thud of her head against the wall really didn't hurt so she decided to whack it again. That did hurt so she carefully backed away from the wall and moved to sit once again on her bed.

At least Corgan hadn't seemed too angry. Arel supposed that was good. She had never imagined that the newts would follow her on board. That little 'dumping' scene had probably been the best job of acting that Arel had ever done.

Too bad the newts would probably come after her again, despite whatever plans Corgan had to keep them away.

Arel could only hope that no one else would find out about the newts or her claim that James Corgan was her boyfriend. She would never live that down.

She groaned, laid back, and pulled the nearest pillow over her face. Corgan might have mercy, and Kit Jordan probably didnt care, but Hawksley, Samantha, and that jag woman sure wouldn't consider her when they blabbed their mouths off to whoever was there to listen.

If she were lucky she would self-suffocate or at the very least fall asleep.

“Finding Family”
By Lieutenant Autumn Quevvenson ACMO, USS Galaxy Lieutenant jg Celestine ‘Raven’ MacTaggart, WEAPS, USS Dominator

Autumn had just finished her shift and was worn out after taking care of the loose ends in Med bay. She was sitting in her lounge room reading a PADD detailing her father’s relationship with her half brothers mother. It detailed it all… even her death days before her parents disappeared. Summer was asleep in her basket and Wilhem was busy else where. The PADD detailed her family history from her fathers side of the family. She knew most of it now, so it didn’t come as much oof a shock.. the other PADD on the other hand….

On the other PADD that rested in her lap was details of another family skeleton. Her aunt Jane had been searching for her long lost half brother from Autumn’s grandfather’s first marriage. Autumn finished reading the PADD from Ross and picked up Jane’s information.

It shocked her to learn that her Grandfather had been full betazoid and when he had married her grandmother Louise the resulting children had been half Betazoids… that made her a quarter betazoid.. But as her grandfather had never told his second wife that he was a Betazoid no one in the family had known. Now it was coming out slowly. Jane had found the beginnings of a search in what Autumn’s mother had left her in the Will. Autumn knew she would have to tell Wilhem. But after she finished reading the material. As she stared at the family trees she sighed. Along with a half brother she hated she now knew of another family member. She had a cousin that she had never known about. And it seemed that her uncle was the owner of Morgan real estate a rival company that was putting out propaganda on STARLINGS. She pulled out a piece of paper and write down the names of the children and their ages. She also noted that Celestine was a member of starfleet, and that they had been in the same first year cadet class only Celestine was tactical and Autumn had been on the fast track in Medical.

Xavier Crawford: 28yrs of age
Autumn Quevvenson: 24yrs of age
Celestine MacTaggart: 20 yrs of age
Susan Meyer: 13 yrs of age
Craig Jamieson: 10yrs of age
Michael Tait: 9yrs of age
Carrie Jamieson: 8yrs of age
Mathew Halpin: 7yrs of age.

It was strange that her family seemed to fit so well. She silently searched her memory for Celestine and soon she had it. A young girl that looked remarkably like her in colouring. She stood up and walked over to the computer terminal and brought up Celestine’s personnel file and said. “Computer. Get me a comm link to lieutenant junior grade Celestine MacTaggart, USS Dominator.”

[Working]

It took a while for the link to be established but when it did it was like looking in the mirror.

The young woman on the Dominator stared at the face silently. Autumn gave a smile and said. “Are you Celestine MacTaggart?”

Raven nodded. “Yes that is who I am… May I ask who you are?”

“It may sound a bit weird but my name is Autumn Quevvenson, I am actually your cousin. My maiden name was Jamieson, and yours was Morgan. “ Autumn said.

Raven stared at her. ~Cousin?~ she thought. ~Yeah right.. sure~ But she said. “Have you proof of this?”

Autumn nodded and plugged the PADD in and began the download.

The download appeared on Raven’s screen and Raven began to read it. It didn’t take long to see that the young woman with Lieutenant pips had done her job.

Autumn waited a bit and then said. “We also went through the academy at the same time Celestine. We both began our courses in 2373. I just finished mine on a fast track. You were in the tactical course and I was in the medical course.” She brought up their first year class photo. It was a large class and it was the combined classes of all courses offered. Celestine was in the back row, third from the left and Autumn was in the 3rd row from the front in the center. She made sure Raven could see the pic as well.

Celestine looked up at the tall raven haired woman silently. After a while she said. “I believe what you have shown me. But you by now know that my father has a grudge against STARLINGS which you run….”

Autumn looked at Raven. “I do not run STARLINGS. My uncle Ross does that for me. I am first and foremost a starfleet officer on the USS Galaxy. My husband and I do not have the time for the business at this point in time. I do not know what the grudge is about, but I am hoping to meet with you and your side of the family as soon as possible… if that is possible.”

Raven shrugged her shoulders. “We shall see.” She paused. “I must say though it is exciting to find out I had a cousin that I didn’t know I had.”

Autumn smiled. “Not just me.. there are three others on our side of the family that are also your cousins. Our Aunt Jane’s kids, Susan, Michael and Mathew”

Raven smiled. “Maybe we should organise a family gathering and get to know everyone.”

“Now there is an idea.” Autumn said. “If you bring your family and I get mine there … we could have it at Wilhem’s and my House in France. Shouldn’t take to much organisation… “ she said with a smile.

Raven nodded and suddenly the lights around her flickered. “Oh.. Look Autumn I am sorry but I have to go… we are about to go to red Alert. I’ll call you sometime later ok?”

Autumn nodded. “OK no problem Celestine.”

Raven smiled and said. “It is Raven or Celeste.. Celestine is to formal for me.”

“I’ll remember that” Autumn said.

“Bye!” Raven said. “Dominator out.”

“Galaxy out”

Raven cut the link.

Autumn closed down the terminal and smiled. She then placed the PADDs on the table and headed for the bathroom. She had time to have a shower and get some sleep before Wilhem came home.

"Calgon, Take Me Away . . . ."

Lt. j/g Brian Elessidil
Counselor

with brief unauthorized use of:

Ens. Curtis Geluf
Engineering

Lt. Autumn Quevvenson ACMO

[OOC: Takes place immediately after "Ebb and Flow" and "Med Bay Chaos".]

The closer he got to sickbay, the more Brian could feel a headache coming on.

After a sustained period of being away from a large number of people in one place, Brian's strong telepathic mind was subjected to the steadily-increasing pressure of the raw thoughts and emotions of the crew. More and more people continued to be beamed up from the planet's surface, reminding the Betazoid counselor that once again, he was going to have to re-acclimate to the presence of a full crew.

Well, almost a full crew. It was clear to him that the number of injured and dead, both on the planet and onboard the ship, was not insignificant. There was a tangible sense of sadness, anger, confusion -- all the emotions that usually comprised human reaction to a collective tragedy -- that he couldn't ignore.

As a Betazoid, Brian had developed the mental shielding skills his people needed to maintain sanity. With a little time to re-adjust to the sudden increase in crew members onboard, he could simply shut it all out and go about his duties like everyone else. But as a counselor, it -was- his duty to be attuned to the thoughts and emotions of the rest of the crew; choosing to ignore them wasn't an option, especially after the terrible nightmare they had all just endured.

And as was often the case, it seemed that sickbay was one of the singular most concentrated sources of those kinds of thoughts and emotions. There was no question in his mind that he had to get Shinta there, but the realization that it was like walking into the telepathic equivalent of a bad rock concert was not lost on him.

Passing through the door, Brian and Curtis sought the first place to lay the injured Bajoran down.

"Put her over her," someone said, indicating a bio bed about halfway through sickbay. It was Autumn Quevvenson, the first person onboard Brian had spoken with when he and Heather were returned from captivity on the Hirogen ship.

"She was surprised by a Hirogen," Brian informed as he released the weight of her upper body onto the bed. There was little reason to tell the good doctor this as she began her scans of the patient. Sickbay was flooded with injured crewmen and stressed-out medical personnel, desperately trying to keep up with the incoming tide.

"Counselor, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure I'm needed back in Engineering," Curtis said.

For one brief moment, Brian indulged in the opportunity to focus on the ray of light Ensign Geluf had been in the midst of this black and stormy ordeal.

"By all means, Ensign," he said, shaking Curtis' hand. "I don't know how this would have ended up without your help. Remember, I'm buying you a drink sometime soon," he added with a smile as he squeezed the other man's hand a little more firmly.

"I'm counting on it," Curtis teased back with a friendly wink. He then released the handshake, turned, briskly moved toward where they had come in, and then exited sickbay.

All the more aware of the pressure that was tightening its grip inside his head, Brian considered the thought of dealing with warp cores and plasma injectors an oasis of respite compared with the physical and emotional damage he would be surrounded by for the rest of the near future. But he let the thought go as he turned back to Shinta and her attendant phsyician.

Respite would have to wait for now.

"Grumpy Old....err... New Senior Officers" (Part One: shiver in fear NOW!)
By
Lt.Cmdr. Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley,Chief Tactical Officer And Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan, Chief Operations Officer Plus everyone's favourite NPC: Leo Streely (with Joe's permission)

Location: Ten Forward.

Lysander was watching Leo, as he waited for the runt to come take his drink order.

The little man was trying to weasel out of paying off on some of the various schemes, betting pools, and underhanded deals he had running aboard GALAXY at any given moment. Even with the Hirogen running around the corridors, Leo had found the time to take odds on various things.

"Who'll kill the most of these Hirogen things?"

"Will we ever get out from under their thumb?"

"How long till Raven comes crying for ME to save him, Again?"

"How long till Commander VonErnst loses her job?"

"How long until that big old thobbin' vein in Bhrode's forehead explodes?"

"How long till Bhrode orders -all- the Engineers killed?"

"How long until Sanchez kills Jay and Silent Bob?"

"Will that Hirogen there pick its' nose?"

"Can that kid, Matt Wiggums, swallow a bottle cap?"

Irate customers were lined three deep at the other end of the bar, to 'discuss' various issues they had with Leo, most of which had to do with the aforementiond 'pools' and others.

Leo, of course, was in his element (No, no more Whale Poop jokes!) and far too busy schmoozing the 'clients' to deal with stuff like that. Zuk, the Ferrengi Quartermaster was serving as Leo's 'Complaints Department' today(for a whopping 65% of anything he convinced people Leo shouldn't have to pay them, Leo pocketed the remainder.)

Just another typical day in Ten Forward.

Right now, Leo was trying to explain why he didn't really consider the Gorn's 'victory' in the "Overall Hirogan Killed" contest worthy of a clear title. Zuk was busy trying to explain to Sanchez that they hadn't REALLY had a bet going that she and Peter Lockhart had been secret lovers. Not at 50 to 4 anyways.

"Look, you got your Hirogen. They're big, they're ugly, they smell funny. But they're . . you know. . .bad assed. Tough. Like Raven or me. Right?" Leo screeched, waving a bar-nap in one hand and a lacey black bra in the other. He'd found both behnd the bar and was confused. Who'd left Bar- Naps open?

"Yeeeaaaahhh. . .Nosey was in cave with Brightie. Brightie is friend." Ensign Nosmaj, the Pakled Tactical Officer pondered.

"Huh? What does that have to do with the Hirogen? Look- look- look. . . you picked 'Twenty Four' as the number of Hirogen killed by one person or being. Right?" Leo continued, noticing the bra and wondering who'd wear such a big size, and how it'd gotten here? Heck. . Raven could wear the thing, assuming the Indian wanted to. . .

"Nooooooooooooo. . ." replied the Pakled, distracting Leo.

"Huh! Whaddya mean? Look. . . right there! It says Nosmaj! Twenny-four!" Leo said, offended that he didn't even have to break a sweat bamboozling the Pakled.

"Noooooo... Nosey pick number because Nosey. . .like number. No understand 'pool' Nosey win pool? Nosey go swimming?" The Pakled pushed.

Leo finally gave up. He'd been trying to explain to Nosmaj for three hours now; that she'd WON the pool, so he could refuse to pay off on it for a -really- good reason he and Zak had dreamed up.

But this was too much like work.

"Yeah sure. You won the pool. Go swim in it. I hope you drown! Here. Gedd oudda here." And Leo pushed a pile of credits at her mentally plotting to kill his replacment for taking a bet from a Pakled.

He didn't actually -cry- until Nosmej said "Oooohhhh...shiny. .. . . pretty! Nosey win pretties! What are they?"

Wiping a tear from his eye, and reeling in shock; Leo staggered over to Lysander.

"Whaddiyell be feryah?" Leo asked, surveying the room.

"Arcturian Brandy. The XO stuff, not that Repli-mat swill." Lysander replied.

Leo's head almost snapped on his neck, it swivelled so fast. Big sale. Possibly big tip. Big sucking up to do.

"Yes SIR! Coming right up, sir! hey. . . I know you. You're that Lysol...Listerine. . no wait... Beltsander Pants Are Pulled Locked Upsley guy!" Leo said, turning on his legendary charm and hoping no women were hurt in the process. Luckily, none were. None ever are.

"Just the drink please. . . and something for my friend when he gets here." Lysander answered.

Leo's face clouded. He eyed Lysander up and down (as much as you can when standing on a empty box behind the bar!)

"Friend? 'He?'" Leo asked, wriggling one eyebrow. Don't be too impressed,Leo only -has- one eyebrow, right across his forehead.

"Yeah. Friend. Oh GEEZ Leo! Not like -that-" Lysander said, remembering who he was talking to.

"I should hope not. The last thing we need are -more- "Friends of Sansky's' running around here. There are kids on this ship, you know? Hey. That pool? The one about you and that English Security woman? Alllison Rakeley? You lost. I scored her first. You know, they were thinking of making me a Security Deputy? But after -that- chick complained that she couldn't walk straight for. . ."

"Leo, my drink?" Lysander interrupted.

"Yeah. Sure. Inna minute. Hey. Can I ask you something?" Leo said, eyes shifting right and left.

"No."

"Thanks. You and the red-head. Is it true what they say. "Red in the Morning, Sailors Delight?' You know. . ."

"No idea. My drink?"

"Inna minute. You. Red. The Redsterr. -You know-? If no Blue Lagoon, then -When-? The fans. They wanna know."

"What fans? Where's my drink?"

"-THE- Fans! Sheesh. You'd think no one ever heard a damn story around here! Hi! This is USS GALAXY, not some freekin Dungeons and Dragons thingy with you and your dumb old relatives running around smacking orcs!" Leo sputtered. Then the little man began speaking very slowly. "The. .fans. ..want. .to. .know. .when. . you. . and. .whassername with the red hair. . are. . gonna. . do. . -it-??"

"IT? 'It' what? And where's my drink?" asked a very confused Lysander.

Leo turns to the readers for a moment. "You people -see- what I got to work with around here? I give up. Go pester the red haired chick, this guy's hopeless. Don't say I didn't try. You, my fans know how far I'll bend over backwards to answer those little questions you send me with my fan-mail. . . not - that- way 'backwards; but. . ."

"Who're you talking to? When you're done, will you get my smeggin drink?" Lysander demanded peevishly.

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

Ten forward wasn t packed like usual, save for the usual complaint line headed by Quartermaster Zuk. Besides the lineup, there were not many peoplein Ten Forward coming in to enjoy themselves. Some faces were missing. Usual attendees at the GALAXY's Main social gathering place spiked way down since the Hirogens used the crew as glorified game animals.

There were a few sporadic groups spread out among the tables and chairs of the lounge, but nothing more. It was ghostly and quiet because the few people that were there were talking in hushed tones, or staring blankly out at the stars and sipping their drinks without a word to speak.

It was one of those missions that everyone didn t want to celebrate the end of. It was twice in a row that the Galaxy was in the grip of a frightening force when they were supposed to be on a peaceful mission. Twice the crew had been treated like animals. Twice the body count was high.

Vampires, then Hirogen had cut a bloody swath on the ship, staining its corridors in blood once again. Because of this, nobody was in the mood to be jovial.

Except Lysander and the other idiots.

Refreshed and slightly rattled after a bizarre altercation with a pack of Newts (see Revenge of the Newts ), James Corgan found Lieutenant Commander Hawksley at the bar, already chatting with Leo Streely. They were both in the middle of a heated argument.

~~Christ~~ Corgan mused while rolling his eyes~~ Can't I have a normal meal in this place? Great! ~~ James complained, his euphoric sense of comradeship with Lysander already worn out after the Newt incident, ~~ I'm stuck with the two most annoying people in the universe. What was I thinking? How could this GET any worse?~~~

Of course he never notices Lita Jorvan appear behind him, see Lysander at the bar, and disappear pretty quickly. Why do the crazy people get the -lucky- breaks on this ship?

Corgan's real life speech was much more friendly, "Commander Hawksley" He said stately, "Thanks for saving a seat. Leo always a pleasure. By the way, did I win the Hirogen headcount race? "

"No. You lost. The Gorn won. Twenty four confirmed Hirogen over your claimed fifteen. Bring back skulls next time. Loser." Leo said, in a surly manner. James' 'usual' was a lot cheaper than Lysanders' 'usual' of rare imported brandy.

Leo's level of 'niceness' depended a lot on your gender, gender orientation, and spending ability.

"Darn that was impressive." Lieutenant Corgan whistled, "I tip my hat to them. So tell me how many did you kill Leo? Is it as low as your conquered women s headcount?"

" Hey, I was busy saving the ship. Again. Not off rampaging through the planet looking for people to gun down like some intersteller version of Oswald, that patsy! and HEY! What the hell did you mean by that?!??! I m El Leo Magnifico! Lord of the ladies! They scream my name in bed even when I m not there, limp wrist! Don t you forget it!" Leo said, managing to keep from climbing over the counter and giving Corgan 'what-for' upside his head.

"Whatever. ANd bring me one of those Nacho things too." James sighed, shoving a hand in front of Leo's face, beckoning him to 'talk to the hand' while addressing Lieutenant Commander Hawksley, "By the way Lysander, I picked up that report Rebecca wanted done. You had me scared, thinking it was worse than it actually was."

"Hey. . .Buddy? Stop scaring my paying customers! Sorry Mister Locked Upsley, but these nuttso cases keep wandering in here, talking to themselves and stuff. Somebody should start dropping -more- pianos around here, if you ask me." Leo snapped, glaring around Corgans hand.

"He's with me, Leo." Said Lysander, causing Leo to scurry off and get James his 'usual' cup of black sludge (also known as Coffee, double strong, extra bitter, just the way James likes it). Actually, Leo was pouring from the 'special' coffeepot he kept, right next to the reclamation chute.

Corgan continued, " Oh I also got this when I was at the XO's Office. Hold on. Let me get it out"

James selected a small isolinear chip from his handful of reports and slotted it into a PADD.

"Ahhh here we are. Its this suggestion you wanted to release to the captain about arming people with phasers. Want to know what I think of it?"

Leo butted in again, as Lysander was choking on his Brandy.

"No way. You guys, pardon my language, couldn't shoot the broad side of a broad! I mean, it is bad enough that you guys let the Tac-Weenies get armed! Lookit Lockhart! He had that brainstorm and where did it get him? His head! Chopped off! I dunno what that Price would do without me, to tell you guys this is a bad idea. . ." Leo said, almost falling off his packing crate in excitement.

"No offense Leo, but I used to be the Class of 75's marksmanship competition champ. I could shoot your @$$hole hairs off from a thousand paces without scorching the skin on your warty butt. Still think I can t hit the keel of a starship? Try me." James objected threateningly.

Lysander looked at the brandy.

"This is stronger than usual. . ." he wheezed.

"Ass ass ass, is that all this guy ever thinks about? Oh. . . ZAK! You forgot to. . .ummm.. wash this bottle!" Leo yelled over his shoulder, leaving before Lysander could ask him how he knew what was on confidential reports to Captain Bhrode as he scurried off to water the booze down more. Leo's job is never done. At least by Leo.

"Where'd you get 'Ops and Helm armed' out of 'Ops and Helm run in the mornings with us?' anyways?" Lysander asked, grabbing for the PADD.

"Paragraph six, sentence 5. It said something about Ops shoud also go through the same sh*t tactical does, and well, that means phaser practice." Corgan announced.

"Smeg! the hell it does. . " Lysander swore, reading through the PADD again. Apparently he'd said this garbage to. . . the Smeggin' Princess. Of course.

"Relax. I think it s a great idea." James surprisingly announced with a slight grin on his face, "There will be resistance to it, especially now that we're not at war, but if the Hirogen and the Sanguinarians taught us anything it s that we should always be prepared. If I had a phaser on the bridge when the Hirogen beamed in, we could have had the area cleared out. I would have fragged Letag before he cut me up and we might have been able to shoot the rest before they got a hold of us. Don t you agree?"

"No. You ever -seen- Princess Phaserbanks with a phaser? Some crew are better off throwing them at the smeggers instead of slagging the Bridge." Lysander grumped.

"Sadly, I have seen her with a phaser. It s not pretty. James stated flatly, So tell the captain I ll try the idea in my department... if you re still interested. I ll have some complaints but I ll remind my department of what happened and how it could have been prevented. They ll just have to get used to those phaser drills." Corgan continued, ignoring Lysander, Leo and the rest of the universe.

"Say you wouldn t mind if my department attended Tactical phaser drills, wouldn t you?"

"Yes. I'd smeggin well mind. . . " began Lysander.

"Alright chickensh*t James said offhand.

"Where the hell do you get off saying. . . oh screw it. Maybe Sanchez can get you guys into shape. Not my problem. Just keep out of Tactical's way."

" What, afraid us Ops boys are going to show you Tac-Weenies up? Don t tell me you re afraid of a little competition?" Corgan slyly remarked, ~ His ego won t resist hah! Game, set match I win! ~

"No, I was more worried that innocent bystanders would get hurt by you guys falling to pieces. Plus, are you SURE you wanna be anywhere near Rebecca with a phaser? The safest place in the whole universe would be her target. . ..everything else is open season! What the hell, it's your asses."

"You won t regret it. And in exchange I'll try to get Sanchez off your backs. Maybe we can run the phaser drills and PT instead of the Taskmistress herself. I know her and she doesn t seem to mind me at all, so I think I can do it."

"Funny, Lockhart said the same thing years ago. It's your ass, if she folds it like a taco. My guess is she says 'no' and spits you out. Maybe -you- could be her new 'Princess Snowflake' from here on out? " Lysander said, waving off Leo's offer to 'ice' up his brandy.

"Who? Crazy Head and Sanchez? Never happen. I'll give you sixty to three she's back to wrapping Jii's chimmichanga when we get to Starbase 415. That reminds me; how's Crazy's Hottie? That Reece? When's she gonna be available again?" asked Leo, ignoring James.

James spat fire from his eyes as he stared at Leo," You ll call her Electra, Lexa or Lieutenant Reece, or your WORSE NIGHTMARE you sick twisted perverted little f**k! You want to know how she s doing? Huh? I DARE you to ask me! Go ahead I m game." Corgan played off of his craziness, feeding off Leo s fear, What s the matter? You re not curious anymore?

Leo stepped back a foot and made the 'talk to the hand' gesture, cutting off his view of Corgan. "Hey hey HEY! Yo, crazy guy. I didn't sign no enlistment papers to be calling anyone, anything. And I don't call women, they beg for me. I'm a civilian, a legend, and I'm gonna be a Security Deputy. So unless you wanna get Eighty-Sixed out of here again. . ."

Lysander answered Leo. "Go ask the EMH for an update."

"Or. . ." James' voice turned back to being friendly,"You can ask the EMH."

"No -way- Pedro. That Mark I? He likes rooting around in the old family jewel drawers too much, you know? I mean, my last medical exam that he did? He gave me -seven- prostrate exams. -In-a-ROW-! I didn't even know what a prostrate gland was! Oh, the inhumanity!" Leo said, before scurrying off to check supplies in the back room.

"That is the -most- confusing little man. . " mused Lysander.

"You want confused? I bet Leo enjoyed it." James snidely commented.

"I heard that! I'm not -like- that! Stupid crazy guy, they outta lock his ass up in the brig! Where's Raven when you need him?" Leo was muttering to himself at the end of the bar.

"So.. what happened to you on the planet s surface?" James asked.

"The usual. Chased in screaming terror with snot running out of my nose. Saved some civvies and a wet nosed Louie Junior. Ran into a ex-girlfriend I didn';t wanna see, met the Newts and knocked Rebecca onto her skinny ass. Oh, and I got a sunburn." Lysander said.

"Wow you don t say? Me I had to take control of a group of freshies through the jungle. Can t say it was great. I had Hirogen on my ass all the time. Had to kill twelve of the buggers before I ended up in sickbay. And along the way, I was hunted by one really tough son of a b*tch named Letag. I was lucky to survive that."

Leo cut in, having wandered back. "Ass Ass Ass ... again with the ass. This guy, he kills me! So tough yet so tender! So what? I saved Lieutenant Grant-Greene's life, all her kiddies and some other civilians too; by tossing this big old piano on top of. . .

"Hey peanut gallery. Zip it or I ll melt the your cheap polyester suits." James turned back to Lysander, who was rubbing his temples like he was getting a headache. "So you were with Rebecca? Did she make it out alive?"

"Here's your "El Magnifico Nacho Platter." Fruitloop. Hey hey HEY! I thought you just left the Red Head's office,just now!" Leo interjected, again. "What, you can't keep your lies and stories straight, Bigshot?" Leo said, feeling for the sawed off baseball bat he kept behind the bar.

"She's fine" mutterd Lysander, barely on the threshold of human hearing.

"Thank god I was worried." James replioed, ignoring Leo again.

After a long pause and a few moments of munching on his food, James popped out a question that was tickling his mind during the last few days. It was about Rebecca, and more specifically, about Lysander and his relationship with the new Executive Officer. Hawksley s love for the diminutive redhead was no secret, just the extent of their relationship was what remained an enigma. James also wanted to help. It was clear before that Lysander had no clue how to handle women, much less a girl with as much complexities and emotional problems as Rebecca Von Ernst.

"Sir I was wondering what was with that kiss? Honestly, what the hell were you thinking? Thought you were going to die and decided to show how you felt?" James stopped Lysander before he could speak, Neither noticed Leo drop a bottle of water labelled 'Virellian Vodka' and spin to listen in, mouth agape.

"That was nice of you if your intentions were good, but in case you haven t noticed you re dealing with Rebecca. I doubt that unless to said I love you , she wouldn t have gotten the clue, and couldn t you have picked a better time than when we were all getting tossed around on the bridge? Sheesh"

"Yeah, I was thinking that I was about to die and. . you know. . I didn't want to waste one more. . ." Lysander began.

"I -KNEW- it! Kissing! Two guys! Sick! Uck! Ick! All Right!! You two! Drink up and get out. Getoudda here! Tell Sansky I said "HI" and he owes me still for the champagne I laid in for his wedding . . ." Leo was screeching,before Zak filled him in on what was really going on, at the otehr end of the bar.

"You d think Leo was obsessed with gay men. With those weird suits he always wears, makes you wonder what team he s playing for, right? James asked Lysander.

"I try and not think about it much, or ever. So anyways. . ." Lysander said, truthfully, before going back to his 'Rebecca Saga.'

"Poor bugger I ll have to break his heart." James chortled.

Zuk finished his explanation, and Leo s eyes light up in realization, "Oh. REBECCA! I get it. Whassisname kissed her?" Leo screeched out before Zak got his mouth covered. Or else they'd have to pay up on -that- pool.

". . .and basically I didn't want us both to die without doing -something- It seemed like a good idea, at the time." Lysander finished with a shrug.

"So, did you tell Rebecca how you felt after all this sh*t was over? James asked.

"Princess Phaserbanks? Yeah. I told her. Might have well told her I prefer Strawberry to Vanilla ice cream. She just blinked at me for a few moments, then passed out asleep. Of course, you know. . . the stress. I dunno what to do. Half the time I wanted to kill her, the other half of the time I wanted to propose to her. She didn't even thank me for keeping those ugly mothers off her back."

"Typical of her." Sighed Lieutenant Corgan, dropping his cup of coffee right before he could take a sip, depriving Leo of his prank, "She has absolutely no empathy and she can t read how other people feel too well unless its hammered home. I ve been trying to get her to open up more since I first met her and well it s impossible. She doesn t do anything but mope and work on reports. She ignores people who care about her and she doesn t realize how much that hurts people. I m not surprised that she ignored you. It s just her way. She s so focused on herself and her stupid destiny that everything else is closed out of her mind. No offense Lysander, but I don t see what you see in her."

" Me neither to tell you the truth. When I first met her, she was just this annoying weird creep, in my way, you know? I'd watch them steal her pencils and laugh, because she -just- didn't get it. But then I talked with her a few times, in Academy classes and she wasn't as weird as everyone thought.

And then we meet up here on GALAXy again. . and I start wondering. . you know. . and the next thing. . I'm thinking about one of us dying and not having the other. . and it's like. . it's like a Math Equation you SUDDENLY get! And I realize I don't wanna live without her. you know?"

"No. Her redeeming quality I'd have to say is the way she treats others. She's cautious around people, but she doesn't outright judge people until she gets all the facts." James mused, ignoring Lysander choking on his Brandy(again!)

"I mean,look at me. Half the ship thinks I m nuts, the other half thinks I m just plain crazy. Not many people know me on this ship enough to come to that conclusion, including our *COUGH*@$$holeofabartender *COUGH*. Rebecca doesn t treat me like I'm some leper. Sure she s skittish, but she judges people fairly, and that s what I want from others to judge me as a half decent human being and not Crazy Corgan.

And you know what? Treat her nicely and she ll treat you like a human being too, not like Lysander the Lovemonkey."

Lysander shrugged and downed his drink in one fell swoop. "I dunno. What do you think I should do? Tell her or not?" he asked, carefully ignoring Leo, Corgan and everyone else.

"I don t see why not. I took way too long trying to tell Lexa how I felt about her, and . . ."

"Do like me. Love them and lose them. Or at least lose the subpeonas and restraining orders." said Leo, topping off Lysanders glass with one 'on the house' and helping himself to another 'On the Client' at the same time. "It's like this; you know. There's women and then there's the ones who smell like fish. And there's always another one more fishey smelling in the ocean than. . ."

"Does this have a point? And who asked you?" Lysander shot back to Leo.

"Yes it has a point. It's what Crazy Guy is trying to tell you, in his own ramblingly psychotic and disjointed way. Go - get- her if you want her. The worst she can do is say 'no.' Or sue you for stalking. But either way, it's not like she'll shoot you or gouge her eyes out or anything. Let me tell -you- that nothing is worse than having some dame with a VISOR unit coming to the bar and blaming you and saying you gotta. . ." Leo shot back.

"Wait I didn t say that yet! God dammit Leo! You telling Lysander how to pick up women is like a Pakled trying to teach another Pakled how to pilot a shuttle. It s the blind leading the blind. Stand aside and let someone who s actually had EXPERIENCE with women handle this, ok?" James silenced Leo before he could squeal out a protest, "Be quiet and go away before you do any more damage! And for god sakes when I say go away, I mean go away! You know, like so many women requested before? That s what it means! Go! Shoo!"

"What? You? Advice about women? You're... you know... one of THEM. What do you know about women, except cutting their hair and stuff?" Leo shot back, before disappearing into the back room.

"Fragging hell. That guy seriously gets on my case. Talks about all the women on the ship like they re playthings, including Lexa. He even had the gall to place a betting pool on how long it would take for Rebecca to snap and quit her job. Don t listen to him. Just listen to me because I m going to tell you some really good stuff for you to remember."

"He what about Rebecca?" asked Lysander, ignoring the bit that followed. . Lysander braced himself for the words that would spell success, or horrible gut wrenching failure, for his love life,

"Leo was only right about one thing, and that s to ask her out. You have to romance them which I think should be no problem for an amorous, numb-nutted, spent phaser coil like yourself."

"Pffft... childsplay. I always used to get a holoprogram of a beach on Risa, and we'd bake Lychee nuts and drink champagne out of Reisling crystal, before jumping on a catamaran for two and. . .although the sand used to get right in your

. . ."

James looked at Lysander, deadpanned and disgusted, "You think she f**ks on the first date?"

"How the smeg would I know? She hates my guts. According to - you- she tosses herself around like a Orion slave girl on serious anti-depressants at anything that. . ."

"Oh, you know Candy too? Or are you talking about Crazy's mother?" Leo asked.

James gritted his teeth and tried to ignore leo. More. "Look, your idea is ok if you want to get in the sack with her. However you have real feelings for her and it would be a very bad idea if she found out you were trying to screw in your stembolt so to speak. I have a better place for you. Its something she told me once before something about her ideal first kiss. She pictured herself being picked up by some charming handsome fellow. Someone takes her out on a lazy summer evening to St.Louis takes her to a malt shop, if you know what that is cause I haven t heard of it. She wanted the guy to order the biggest peppermint milkshake in the city. And then afterwards she wanted to take the boy home and sit with him on her porch swing back at her home. Does that help you?"

Lysander was trying to get his brain around the concept; so Leo answered. "Sounds just like this old timey holodeck program I have somewhere. It's this oldtime terran ice cream parlour thing. Marble countertop, little booths. . .jukebox with the King on it. I can let you have it for. . .say. . .six strips of gold pressed Latinum." Leo mused.

"Or Leo I could give one just like it to Lysander for free, and it would be made by an award winning holographic designer. I have the connections and I can guarantee the work. How would you like that?" Corgan shot back.

"Hey, mine has the KING in it. Top that, you sissywaisted pansy!" Leo chortled. "Dames love the King! Something about the guy's music. . .his style. . . that hairdo. . . the rhinestones. . ." Leo sighed.

"Yeah, Elvis got the ladies." mused Lysander.

"Who? Elvis? I meant the KING! Liberace!" leo said. "My stuff's wasted on you people. Let the pansy help you figure out women. Maybe he can re-do your wardrobe too." Leo muttered, before leaving again on one of his 'missions'

"I really hate that guy. . . I hope this helps. Women like fantasy just as much as guys, just as long as you don t push it. I d be careful, because she told me this long before she started turning into Commander Von Ernst. Also, she thinks her chances at this perfect date are shot to hell because of a girl that kissed her awhile back. Oh, and as for kissing, she d be very very afraid to kiss so try to get her high strung ass to relax, ok?"

"Listen to the gay guy! That's what -I- said! Get her drunk and she's yours! A relxed woman is an easy one, and if they can't remember your name the next day, all the better!" Leo shouted from the other side of the bar.

"One more thing..." James warned, "If you re going to use this woman you know what I ll have to do, right? Know that if you hurt her, you ll be no better than your average Academy sl*t. Hmmm reminds me of a certain ex-girlfriend of mine. You probably heard her reputation at the Academy. You know Lita Jovan? Anyways, you get the idea what happens when you do what they did, on top of the fact that I would have to break your legs."

Lysander had turned pale and stared at Corgan.

"Did you just say 'Lita Jovan?' Red hair? Sort of like Rebecca, but bigger. . . ummm. . . umm... I dunno how to tell you this, but she's on GALAXY as we speak. . .with her big old. . ." and Lysander made a cupping motion.

"Oh her... I knew she was here. She caught me at a bad time, so I sort of... unloaded a few Newts on her." James raised a suspicious eye, fully knowing Lysander's role in the Newt affair, "You wouldn't know anything about the Newts, wouldn't you?, wouldn't you?"

"Me? Newts? Nope. Other than they think Arel Smith and Kit Jordan are pretty close to God. I'm glad the slimy fellows got off the planet, but. . ."

In retrospect,later: it had -seemed- like a really good idea right then!

"The one where she gets things back together"
by Kit Jordan, civilian reporter

***

She was making invisible designs on the smooth surface of her desk and listening to the background noise as they tried to find him. It was strange, really, she sent messages to her editor, her parents, but she called him. Maybe it was because she knew that he would know what would be going on, and without her around, no one else would because most reporters were content to let Starfleet and the Federation come to them for publication rather than finding the story themselves. She doubted anyone knew the Galaxy hadn't reported in in however many weeks it had been. At least two weeks, she was sure, though time was relative really; all she knew was she missed an unofficial deadline but would have a four part series to make up for it.

Renal was taking a long time.

Their relationship had been a strange one, bordering on quasi-immoral and extremely risky. She wasn't sure if it was as intimate as she liked to think it was. They had very different interests and yet the same interests at the same time, they were working against one another-- he was protecting the very politicians she tried to hard to expose or promote or otherwise. It was filled with dinner dates and coffee talks and toward the end, gradual meetings in their respective apartments. But they were both always very nervous.

She always seemed to get a reputation, and it was based completely on appearance and the fact that she realized from a relatively young age that it was not sex, exactly, that got men going, it was the potential of it and the allusion to it that usually did it. She had never had sex with someone she wasn't seeing seriously, she just didn't feel comfortable giving up that much power.

Maybe it was just that they downplayed their relationship.

"Jordan?" She blinked back to reality and looked into the eyes of the man on the screen. "Oh, God, you look terrible. Are you okay?"

"Shu'ah," she replied, smiled slightly. She supposed it wasn't too convincing. "I'm fine, Renal."

"You don't look fine, have you seen anyone about that bruise?"

She touched her cheek. She hadn't even been aware there was a bruise. "I... didn't even know I had one. I'm not entir'ah'ly shu'ah I'm allowed to go to sickbay."

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Captain Brhode and I didn't get off to a good stah't. I don't want to piss him off."

Renal was very silent for a very long time, staring down at his hands most likely, shaking his head. "Prophets..." he whispered. "I knew... the man's bad news, Jordan, you're right to stay away from him. Hell, I do."

"You know him?"

"Unfortunately."

"I see..." she murmured.

"Really?"

"No. But I guess that's just... nah'mal." She managed another smile, sadly. "Do you know if Price is going to retahn aftah this mission o' his?"

Renal tensed. "What do you know about that?"

"Nothing," Jordan replied, shaking her head. "I just figgahed. You know? It didn't make sense othahwise. No wah'ies, dahling, I've othah things on my mind than finding out the secraht natuah of Captain Price et al."

"That's my girl," Renal replied. "Jordan, I appreciate that."

"I wish I could say it was fah you then," she said. "I just wanted to let you know I was alive and evah'thing."

"I'm glad you did. I was concerned."

"So was I,' she said, chuckling softly.

"When can I expect to read about it?"

"Two days?" Jordan questioned. "It's gonna be a good one, Renal."

"I've no doubt Jordan."

"Pict'ahs and evah'thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah..." She sighed softly and he couldn't help but smirk. "I miss you, Renal, I am having a real hah'd time heah. It's... strange. I've nevah really been so out of my element befah. I've lived in Bah'ston my entiah life except fah a stint a few yeahs ago in the wah and... you don't want to heah this, this is just my stress factah showing its face and..."

"Maybe you should talk to someone."

"Yeah. Maybe. I'll let things chill out though, ev'ryone heah is walking on egg shells, even the counselahs ah seeing counselahs."

Renal was quiet again and his hand came up, his fingers dancing across the ridges of his nose. "Maybe.... maybe I should come there? I'm sure I could find some--"

"That's okay."

"You sure?"

"I'm shu'ah."

"Okay. Remember, if you need anyone in your corner then give me a call, I'll vouch for you."

"I know." She smiled. "I really appreciate it, Renal."

"Keep your chin up, kid, okay?"

"Okay. You too. Don't wah'ry about me."

"I'll try not to." He grinned. "Take care, kid. I'll talk to you later. Send you feedback on this story of yours."

She smiled and watched as his picture blinked out and she sighed, leaning back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. She'd been up all night. Was feeling emotionally volatile. She was surprised she hadn't broken down into a mess of sobbing. She continuously surprised herself. She drug herself to her feet and tripped down the corridor.

"Cahfee," she said as she sat down on her favorite stool in ten-forward, which was still slowly being pieced back together. "Hot. Wit' Hazelnut and vanillar and a little touch of cream and... oh, maybe one'a those little strahs..."

"Geez, lady, you tryin' to bake a cake?" the bartender questioned. "It's called a replicator. Try that. We serve drinks here."

Jordan stared at him and mumbled to herself as she pushed her aching and complaining body up and hobbled to the replicator. She realized, after all the adrenalin finally wore out of her system that she'd hurt her foot pretty bad, though she couldn't figure out what it was exactly. It was a little swollen, painful to walk on, and otherwise bothersome, but she wasn't entirely sure she was allowed anywhere near sickbay and she was too involved in her work to risk getting thrown in the brig by the psychotic captain. She still had the supposed bruise on her cheek, though she hadn't looked in the mirror, or at least, couldn't exactly remember looking in the mirror.

She was so tired. She knew that Lysander was convinced all she did was sleep, but besides that being a rather annoying way to deal with stress, he would be out like a light every time she sneaked out for her reporting. He had no idea.

She decided on Chi instead and sat down at a table by the massive windows, and in a corner. The forward lounge was buzzing and full and silent all at the same time. There was a heaviness in the air. A deep sadness. Most there were drunk. Good excuse for it, she supposed, though she wasn't in the mood and probably wouldn't be for a long time. She was sure everyone lost someone they knew, loved, cared for. She hadn't, though she supposed that was the good part of being the new comer. The bad part was no one really knew you and therefore, didn't put much strength into caring how you were. Particularly if you were a civilian. The Starfleet people had an elitist complex-- maybe not always individually, but certainly as a group dimension and most did on the individual basis. It was as annoying as hell.

She swore, if one more person called her a civilian with that tone and that LOOK like she was barely better than she wasn't even sure what, she would fight them. Fight them hard.

Jordan sipping her tea softly. She didn't like coffee anyway and this was what came out when she pulled her head out of the daze long enough to say something. She'd spent the entire night writing. After she finished, she would stumble out of there back to her quarters, which were still amazingly together just as she'd left them, and sleep for a good twenty-four hours. Then, if she was still in pain she would stumble into sickbay.

Sounded like a plan... that was, of course, if she could keep her eyes open...

She was out like a light, her head resting on her arms as they were folded over the table.

"Casualties . . .schmasulties"

Starring Rebecca von Ernst
Executive Officer - USS Galaxy

Deck 5

Despite the fact that every other Department Head aboard the Galaxy was slowly agonizing their way through the difficult duty of writing to the families of slain comrades, Rebecca von Ernst had zipped through hers in no time at all.

~~~This stuff's a cinch.~~~ she thought putting the final touches on her large batch of outgoing death mail.

She really didn't see what everybody was so worked up about. It was only yet another variety of paperwork in the never-ending stream of bureaucracy produced by the day to day operations of a Starship.

Somewhere deep in her soul there was once a little girl who would have fainted dead away to even consider the morbid notion of such a task, but no longer. It was just stuff that had to be done.

Since her epiphany aboard the K-4 station where she suddenly snapped to the reality that she had better put aside her wants and desires and get in step with her unavoidable destiny as laid out by Admiral Hoth, she had developed a rather cold attitude to life in general.

She didn't value her own self, or her own life. How could she value anybody else's? The pure cold Math of it was that crewmen were an expendable variable used to accomplish one's goals and objectives. If Rebecca felt any anger over the recent losses, is was that those precious resources were wasted on a piss-ant species like the Hirogen rather than somebody REALLY important. The lives didn't matter . . . .. as mentioned, that was mere details and paperwork.

And, Rebecca EXCELLED at paperwork.

As a matter of fact, the Galaxy XO had managed to finish up her batch of letters by simply bringing up a old blank template from the ship's archives and doing a global search for the names of the Deceased and sending off identical messages to every single family on the list. Simple.

The Computer had completed the work for her in less that a half second.

~~~Casualties . . . schmsulties . . .Nothing to it.~~~ she mused to herself as she snapped off her desktop computer and leaned back into her little swivel chair contemplating what to do with the free time she'd saved.

There were always ship's repairs to oversee, Crewmen to intimidate, and efficiency reports to sort through, but most of those operations were well underway, that any interference by Rebecca would only hamper the processes.

There may have been some who were confused by the notoriously skittish young girl's rapid shift in personality to that of an uncaring Ice Queen, but if you thought about it, it made perfect sense.

For years, Rebecca's fragile psyche struggled under the constant barrage of her unpopularity and the constant harassment she received at the hands of classmates first, and then shipmates following that. No Friends, no associates. Just one long line of uncaring psychological evaluators on one side, and a long line of jeering tormentors on the other. She was hated, ridiculed, and outcast from day one.

No wonder then that the ONE person that from the beginning had supported her, complimented her and VALUED her for something she could do, became such an influence in her life. Admiral Hoth may not have been a friend per se, but he never lied to her, and never shaded the truth about the potential he saw in her. He told her she was valuable .. . . and she was. He told her she was NEEDED . . .and she was. He told her that in the end she'd realize how special she was . . . and she did.

In a burst of blinding insight amidst the mutilated floating bodies of the K-4 station crew, Rebecca had a burst of intuition into the reality of her situation.

She was a freak . . . . that much went without question, but she was also a freak with a purpose. She was a freak with a gift to prevent disasters such as this.

The Crew wasa sword she could weild in the process of completing her higher duty, and while she may loose a few from time to time, as long as the Federation was upheld and protected. . . . .well that's what Starfleet was for right?

That's what Rebecca was for.

Sighing in sudden boredom, the tiny redhead glanced around her messy little room, and contemplated not for the first time moving into a larger cabin as warranted by her promotion.

So rapid had been her rise up the ladder of promotions, that she STILL in fact occupied the same tiny Ensign's Quarters that she had been assigned to upon her arrival a year ago.

~~~Has it already been a year?~~~ she wondered, her mind flashing back through the amazing misadventures she experienced aboard the Galaxy. ~~~Unbeleivable.~~~

In the wake of a rather messy, (And possibly fixed) Court Marshall hearing following her role in the Nar Hallas disaster, Admiral Hoth had decided that shoving his star pupil into a pure Combat Ship like the USS Victory had probably been unwise. Instead the plotting old Admiral had pulled a few strings to get the disgraced young Ensign placed under the command of the sure hand of Captain Robert Price. Hoth may have disagreed with Price's political softness, but he DID have a reputation for bringing out the best in his officers, and that' s exactly the kind of experience Rebecca needed before beginning the next phase of her grooming.

~~~The next phase.~~~ she mused bored, a slight frown crossed her face. ~~~Reassignment? Command?~~~ The possibilities were truly overwhelming, and with Hoth pulling th strings. . . . endless.

Whereever the future took her, Rebecca was too intuned to the Probability Mathematics of her situation to not realize that she was rapidly coming to a crossroads of sorts.

Her 'Temporary" Brevet Promotion to Commander was just what Hoth would be waiting for, and true to the Feregi Rule of Acquisition . . . Once he had their money, he wasn't going to give it back.

Likewise she calculated a 97% chance that her Promotion would be made permanent by the resourceful Admiral.

The only problem was the fact that with the imminent return of the rest of the Galaxy Senior Staff, she was unlikely to be welcome in that position by Price or the others.

It was the same as always. Her shipmates hiding their jealousy, cruelty and lies, behind polite smiles and kind words. She was used to it by now however.

Only people like Hoth and Brhode had the verve to tell her the truth to her face.

They told her to her face that they didn't like her, but that didn't matter as long as she did her job.

Therefore . . . the crossroads.

Sighing in frustration, Rebecca pushed herself out of the swivel chair, and picked her way across the messy room towards the bathroom mirror where she studied herself.

Her red hair was a bit longer now than it had been a year ago. It reached well past her shoulders now, and for a moment she played with the thought of what it would be like to grow it out as long as her Momma's impressive braids.

Pale face as simple as ever, set with watery brown eyes, and sprinkled with freckles, but this time a jagged white scar traced its way down one pale cheek spoiling the image of girlish innocence and replacing it with . . . what? . . . . . .Coldness?

~~~Whatever.~~~

Scrunching her nose in boredom, she stuck her tongue out to inspect it for lack of anything else to do.

Stopping, she went back to the eyes.

~~~What the . . . ?~~~

The eyes were not the deep oceans of emotions and innocence that she once knew. Instead they were hard dry marbles of brown coldness. Devoid of emotions, or love the were like the eyes of a predator. . . .. .or a corpse. What the heck was happening to her?

~~~Who the hell am I anymore?~~~

"Brhode...'nuff said!"

Guest appearences by Leo Streely and a handful of Senior Officers.

---------------------

"I love war and responsibility and excitement. Peace is going to be hell on me." - General George Patton

---------------------

Throughout history there have been many different things that bring a party to a screetching halt. The arrival of the police, swat teams and the national gurad responding to a misunderstood call from an angry neighbor. The discovery of steaming hunks of pig dung in the punchbowl. Drunken ferengi casting off thier clothing and forming conga lines. The token hermaphrodite suddenly crying out "Who wants to play 3 minutes in the closet?"

None of these has the stopping power of John Brhode walking into a room.

Where moments before, the 10 Foreward had been a cacophany of music and chatter from crewmen brought together to celebrate the victory and honor thier fallen comrades - one could now literally hear every testical in the room crawling back into thier owner's abdomen.

Leo Streely, bravest of the brave, swooped out from behind the bar and stood before the glowering Captain.

"Hey there, boss! It's really great of you to drop by. I uh..can i get you anything? Prune juice? Antifreeze? Formaldahyde?"

Brhode folded his arms across his chest. "Am I to surmise that the reason that you prattle on before me like this is because you have a deep, heartfelt longing for cell number 07 in the Brig?"

To the Captian's left, Donaldson, the cook spoke up. "Actually , sir, cell 07 is my cell."

Leo laughed as Brhode arched an eyebrow.

"Pay no attention to him, nobody else does." the bartender said grabbing the stern Captain by his arm and pulling him aside before he could order the cook lashed to a photon torpedo and shot into space.

"This could be just what the crew needs, sir. They're all a bit down after the Hirogen ..you know. Maybe if you said a few words to them. Just to let them know that you share thier pain."

Brhode's eyes widened. "Is that your official opinion, Counselor? I should share thier pain? I do not share pain, little man, I inflict it. Severely. But just this once I'm going to let you labor under the assumption that you are correct instead of telling you that was the reason I walked into this place to begin with."

Leo paused to digest the mans words then promptly said "Ok! Ok! Ok! One second.." then leaped upon one of the nearby tabletops.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE! ATTENTION EVERYONE! AS CAPTIAN BRHODE'S PUBLIC RELATIONS ATTACHE' IT IS MY PLEASURE TO INTRODUCE THE MAN OF THE HOUR HIMSELF, THE SULTAN OF SWATTING HIROGEN, THE KING OF THE PHOTON STING, THE AYATOLLAH OF RUNNIN YOUR ASS OVERAH..HE SPEAKS SOFTLY AND CARRIES A BIG HONKIN STICK..HE ..."

"Security, if that man isnt off the tables in 2 seconds, shoot him in the legs." Brhode ordered.

"HERESBRHODEHAVEFUNTHEYREALLYOURSPAL!" Leo shouted then leaped off the table, leaving all eyes focused squarely on the man who had made thier lives misrible since coming aboard.

Brhode clasped both hands behiond his back and spoke clamly.

"With the threat of the Hirogen neutralized for the next millenia or so, and with the completion of the survey of the Mako Nebula, it is little wonder that my finely tuned crew, the pride of the Federation itself ,would take the initiave and flock to the ship's bar." he started looking over at Wil and Autum Quewenson.

"So nice of you both to not be copulating, but I guess this bar isn't quite the Bridge of a starship, is it?"

Neither spoke a word.

Brhode continued to eye the room.

"Wonder Boy. Big suprise here." he said spotting Lysander. "Mr. Corgan, what is a wake for the fallen without your presence." he said to the Lieutennent.

The hulking Mike Pailaka face betrayed no sign of he horrors he had witnessed. "This man gets a drink on me." Brhode ordered Leo, then addressed the entire group again.

'In fact you all do. You all are to celebrate your accomplishments. You marched through the valley of death today and did so like soldiers. You did not break. You did not retreat. You all may have severe disciplinary issues and when it comes to doing your jobs efficiently, most of you flat out could be, and may be replaced with trained monkeys- but you preformed when you were called upon. For that you have all earned this break."

His eyes narrowed. "Do not forget the sacrifices of 267 fellow officers who laid down thier lives so that you all can heft mugs of ale, sing songs and make love again. They are the lucky ones. For only the dead have seen the end of war."

He paused, allowing a moment of uneasy silence.

"We have been given new orders. We are to return to Starbase 415 and rendevous with the USS Prospero. We depart in one hour. You all WILL be in uniform and at your stations. I want the senior staff heading all departments. We will meet them as the conquering heroes that we are. Nothing less. Is that understood?"

A resounding 'Aye Sir!" echoed through the room, as Brhode turned crisply on the heel of his new Hirogen skin boots and marched out the door, leaving all behind speculating wildly about the nature of thier upcoming meeting with the Prospero.

Leo, never one to miss an opportunity shouted aloud: "Ok, Ok, everyone! I gots 3-2 odds that Price is returning! 4-1 on Jii ..any takers?"

*** Captain's ready room, USS GALAXY ***

"Hell of a job you did, John. You are a credit to this goddamn Navy. They will give you a medal for what you have accomplished." Admiral Hoth said, his face filling the Captain's viewscreen.

"After about 25 medals, you run out of shoulder to put them on." Brhode deadpanned, eliciting a grin from the Admiral.

"That's why I like you, John. You and I are cut from the same cloth. You have reason to celebrate, this mission was a success on many fronts."

"The heavy butcher's bill speaks otherwise."

"Victory at all costs, victory in spite of terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory there is no survival. On this day, the Federation survived once again. Be proud of that." Hoth said.

"And the meeting with the Prospero?" Brhode asked.

"A change in plans."

Brhode tensed, like a lion waiting to strike. "Orders, Admiral?"

Hoth chuckled a deep and sinister laugh. He leaned closer to the screen.

"Here is what you are going to do....."

“Commander Jovan’s Greatest Hits”
By Commander Lita Jovan
JAG Officer, Formerly of Starfleet Intelligence

With excerpts from: “Re-united and it Feels So… Nasty.”

Location: Outside Lieutenant Kira Murphy’s former residence

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

Aaldar, Liito (prissy, cheap)
Corgan, James (mental case, wouldn’t get in the sack)
Hawksley, Lysander VanderPuls (limp dick, full of himself, evil man)
Bruunhilde, Seri (fat and ugly)
K’ringe, son of K’rok (big and dumb)…

Exerpt from Lita Jovan’s little black book, page one out of one hundred. Circa 2378.

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

“Great. Now that the Hirogen are gone, I can open and shut this case.” Lita heaved her swelling chest, huffing out an arrogant sigh as she strided her way across deck 12. She was in a more sour mood than usual. It had been days since she had creature comforts. Days without decent replicated food. Days without a sonic shower. Days without a soft bed.

Days since she last had sex.

She was driving herself batty. A week without a boytoy. No wonder he mood was less than cordial.

Picking up fresh meat at Ten Forward was going to have to wait. She came to the Galaxy as a JAG officer, investigating the case of Lieutenant Doctor Kira Murphy. Hard to believe she was a Doctor and a computer hacker at the same time, but Starfleet bred strange combinations of people. After all, it wasn’t everyday a lawyer in training turned into an intelligence officer, then a JAG officer.

The difference between the two dual role women was one broke into computer systems, lied and charmed her way around and rained unholy wraith on anyone who got in her way. The other person was the criminal accused of tampering with the Holodecks.

It was Lita’s role to investigate the case and bring back evidence for Lieutenant Murphy’s trial. Open and shut in one day. The main evidence, the holodeck logs filled with her electronic footprints, were already sent to Starfleet judicial court. Lita’s job was a mop up operation to bring back hard evidence, and anything else that brought to question her character.

Like almost every job she had before, this one was a cakewalk. She could delay it for as long a she wanted and find any excuse to extend her stay on the Galaxy, as long as she was needed to perform her task for Project Archangel.

Everything was so easy. The holodeck was already finished, and she was moments away from entering Lieutenant Murphy’s quarters. With her high rank, position, and access to Starfleet Intelligence access codes that would make a security officer drop in an orgasmic fury, she was ready for anything.

Well… almost anything. Wait and see.

She walked up to Kira’s doorstep, unaware of what was on the other side.

“Computer,” Lita stately commanded, “Command override. Authorization Jovan Consort Baker Baker Mu.”

=/\=”Acknowledged.”=/\=

Lita rubbed her hands in anticipation. It had been so long since she rummaged through someone else’s room. This was the part of the job she loved the most. Looking through other people’s things, catching glimpses into their private selves by seeing how they lived and what they surrounded themselves with. It was how she judged personality more than anything, by how the person presented themselves on the outside, and their quarters was outside while being at the same time private and very uncensored.

The door slid slowly open, sputtering out as if something was jamming them. Lita whipped out a large evidence bag, eagerly awaiting the ransack of Lieutenant Murphy’s quarters.

Then, somewhere in the walls, a music player activated. Heavy alien electric guitar riffs pulsated loudly. It was a form of Klingon Rock Opera, heavier than anything the humans could possibly make.

(NRPG: For your convenience, this is translated from Klingon)

=/\=Good…daytodie…
Good…daytodie….
Pile…thebodieshigh…
Good…daytodie…=/\=

An avalanche of Tribbles streamed out of the opening in Kira Murphy’s doorway. They crashed down on Lita like a giant furry, stinking tidal wave. The tribbles had days to populate Kira’s tiny quarters, and the accumulated stink of dead tribbles and their foul excrement was overwhelming.

Not to mention the live ones squeaking and squealing like pissed off plush toys at the sound of Klingon voices in the walls!

Lita screamed in horror, unable to run away or stop being overwhelmed by the tribble storm. It was more of a wailing shriek coming out of her mouth because she was horrified of being surrounded by hordes of stinking, screaming little animals.

And before she knew it, she was running full tilt towards the nearest turbolift.

“OH GOD! GET ‘EM OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” She wailed, frantically punching buttons on the turbolift, wimpering pathetically as she was lifted away from the deck.

The music still played with a crescendo of angry tribbles joining the fray.

=/\=DIEDIEDIEDIE…..
There is no glory…
Greater than battle…
Stare down your enemy…
. And let your mehk’leth rattle…=/\=

=/\=OooooohhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHhhhoooooooooooooooooooooooo……….=/\=

=/\=Good…daytodie…
Good…daytodie….
Pile…thebodieshigh…
Good…daytodie…=/\=

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

Twenty minutes later in sickbay…

Lieutenant Murphy’s quarters were… inaccessible. With a little bit of sweet talking, Lita convinced a couple of security officers and engineers to clean the tribbles out of Kira’s quarters.

Leaving her to take care of the evidence gathering in sickbay.

Lita didn’t fear sickbays. She was always in flawless health, so she didn’t have the frightening experiences involving mind dulling drugs and laser scalpels. Sickbays were just another room to her. So was pediatrics, the former workplace of Lieutenant Kira Murphy. It was important that Lita came by to gather evidence there while

Kira’s quarters were being cleaned out.

There was nothing for her to worry about but she was also agitated. She smelled like Tribble sprayings and her hair was a mess. Not very good for a woman who cared a great deal about her looks.

She forgot how bad her physical appearance appeared as she walked through sickbay. For some reason, three of her least favorite people were all together in one room. There was Lieutenant Commander Lysander VanderPuls Hawksley. Old needle dick himself was there, acting like his usual snide, sorry self. Lieutenant Corgan was conversing with Lysander, the same man responsible for losing her only connections to both Vulcan and the Klingon Empire. Lastly, and laying soundlessly on a biobed, Lieutenant Electra Reece, the Amazonian b*tch responsible for kicking her ass the last time she was on board the Galaxy.

"Lieutenant Corgan. . . James. You look like shit. Really.” Lita overheard Lysander commenting.

She seriously wished an EPS relay would explode in front of them and cause them to all burst into flames.

It was not the time now to partake on her desires for revenge and spite. She had a job to do, and there was plenty of revenge taking to take once she had her token investigative task complete.

“Blah blah blah… Did you have to call a Mark 1? Blah blah blah…”

"All the EMH's personality subroutines available… yak yak yak…”

“But I don t want Lexa to wake up to HIM! Blah blah blabbidy blah…”

“Yakkity yak yak… Too late for that now…. Yak yak… tickle his holoemmitter… yak…”

“Oro…”

She snuck into pediatrics without a problem… so far. Kicking aside squishy little kids toys, Lita made her way to the nearest computer console. She activated the computer and called up Lieutenant Murphy’s activities inside sickbay during the last half dozen months. Lita slid in an isolinear chip into the computer, downloading all the information she needed.

“Jackpot!” She cheered, snatching the isolinear rod shortly after download, “I can call it a day now!”

“What?" Lysander spoke in the background.

“Blah blah blahblah… ‘El Leo Magnifico’!” Lita caught a snippet of James’ long winded speech. She had to laugh. James was always verbose.

She didn’t laugh as she turned around and found a large gray animal staring back at her. It was the height of a calf and twice as bulky, with a protruding bone horn, a barrel shaped body, stumpy legs and thick, rough skin. She was staring back at a baby rhinoceros.

The rhino wasn’t alone. He was also accompanied by a trio of furry wombats, a flock of pink flamingo’s, a half dozen cats with a dozen kittens, a gaggle of geese, a brood of praying mantis’s, a baby lamb and a long haired golden retriever. It was like a petting zoo mysteriously appeared in front of her, and they all looked like they weren’t in the mood to be petted.

The dog growled. The cats jowled. The lamb bleeted, the birds squawked, the wombats hissed and the rhino snorted in fury, and Lita was surrounded.

“What the hell?” She managed to squeak before an entire petting zoo attacked her en masse.

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

"Yakkity yak yak… Princess Phaserbanks… yak yak yak yak… Which is faster, an AKIRA Frigate or a PROMETHEUS Cruiser? Yakka yakka yak yak…"

“AAAAAhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!” Muffled a drowned scream from inside pediatrics, which both Lysander and James ignored. There were two thumps on the transparent aluminum viewing screen as Lita pounded furiously to be let free from the animal’s tyrannical grip.

“Blah blah blah blah… I’m going to hit the sonic showers first…”

“LET ME OUT!!!!!” Lita’s pleas fell on deaf ears. The doctors and nurses were too busy working on the wounded while James and Lysander were setting up a dinner date. Animals raised a ruckus, but most of the noise was deadened by sound resistant walls.

"Yeah. I'll save you a seat or something."

Lita crawled forcefully inch by inch, braving the bitter pecks, bites and bumps from countless animal assaults. Lieutenant Murphy failed to mention to people her security protocol on pediatrics. James was partially to blame for bringing these security measures up in the first place, thanks to an incident with the doctor months ago involving the deletion of her favorite holodog.

"By the way... it's Prometheus. Everyone knows that."

“OWWW! Stupid f**king mutt!” Jovan booted the golden retriever in the nose. The dog whimpered away, and the rest of the animals shimmered back into their holo-buffers once they tried to pursue the Commander outside of pediatrics. Butt-head the rhino managed to forcibly throw her out before disappearing.

Lita had no clue Corgan screwed her over AGAIN. If and when she found out, she was going to be royally pissed off, but not before escaping with the isolinear chip. That was more important than a thousand Corgan’s. She slinked out of sickbay, unseen by almost everyone else.

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

Twenty more minutes later, somewhere on deck 10.

She had just about enough of her ‘investigation’. It was supposed to be a simple snatch and run operations to cover up a larger and more important task. The case was open and shut before she even arrived.

Then why was it so much trouble? Why where there tribbles, rhino’s, dog, cats, birds and loud music after her?

Why was her hair all sticky? Why did she smell so bad?

Why was she on board this ship of the damned? She bitterly cursed the Galaxy and all its inhabitants. It was proven time and time again to her that the ship was bad luck, and she wanted off more desperately than ever before anything else happened. To hell with Hoth and his pet project. To hell with Starfleet Intelligence and the powers that be. Whatever meager gains she was going to reap from her time with the Admiral was not worth the humiliation she had to go through.

Stumbling her way through deck ten, she was about to discover that the Galaxy’s dark aura was to work against her again. A mere meter away from Ten Forward, where she so desperately wanted to go for a stiff drink, she bumped into one of the Galaxy’s crewmembers. Then, she tripped on a large bulky body slithering on the floor.

Lita fell on her face, being taken completely by surprise. She wasn’t paying attention to who she was walking into, until she looked up and saw his face.

It was… HIM!

~”Burst into flames… burst into flames… burst into flames…”~ Lita wished for Lieutenant Corgan.

But the full extent of her humiliation was not coming to light until she spied three slimy newt creatures she encountered before on the Planet of Doom. The same female worshipping mudpuppies were surrounding her, looking up to her with beady and adoring eyes.

James looked down, smiling wickedly. Lita recognized that look, like he had some devilish plan and she was going to be a part of it.

“Why… hello Lita. Fancy seeing you here.” James said while his mind found the perfect way to unload the newts, “Gin’Grich… I believe she was looking for you, and what a coinicidence! You were looking for her, weren’t you?”

The newts bowed down in reverence, speaking to Lita through a scuffed up Klingon translator, “Oh great warrior whore! We have been trying to seek you out! The great Demon Slayer has told us about your exploits.”

”By the way… that’s me.” James added, “It is her! She with the twin peaks… as I have described in my tales! Lita… if you’ll be so kind as to take care of them.” He waved to the newts and Lita, jogging off into Ten Forward and away from a sticky situation.

Lita stayed silent, preferring to glower at her departing ex-boyfriend. He had a bad habit of screwing up her life at the most pivotal moments. There was the academy, where his depression cost her a rung on the social latter. There was a few months ago, where his actions and his girlfriend brought her in a lot of trouble.

And now there was this… where James left her to be stalked by lovesick newts. It was enough to make her scream.

“You are strong and fiery. I will assist you in bearing many spawnlings.” Gin’Grich offered.

Correction. Lita screamed her lungs out and ran away from Ten Forward’s doors, with three enamored newts hot on her heels.

"Grumpier Old...err... New Senior Officers"
(part II, be scared, we're planning on TEN posts! All long. .)
By:
Lt. James Corgan(Get all 36'innervoice' action figures today!)
Lt.Cmdr Lysander 'Whatever' (Egoiste)
With excerpts from "Brhode...'nuff said!" and Joe's OTHER masterpiece. . .NPC Leo Streely

Soundtrack: '@$$hole'By Denis Leary (When Brhode enters) Album: No Cure For Cancer, Circa 1997.

Lysander was in the middle of a frankly muddling and emaressed pseudo-explination of the 'Newts' when he noticed that James wasn't paying attention. Instead, James let the Nacho chip he'd almost bitten into, sort of slide out of his hand.

Once Lysander shut up, he also noticed that the whole room was quiet. All of Ten-Forward was silent, except for Corgan's nacho hitting the bar with a 'plop' that sort of died a whimpering and apologetic death for breaking such a. . . still stillness.

Of course, it was the Old Man himself.

Bhrode.

With a starship's supply of vinegar in his veins and a strut worthy of the great General Patton, he entered the Lounge. His face was locked on 'grim and sour' mode, showing all the crew just exactly how he felt. His default mood. Moody. Pissed off. Looking for an excuse to rip you a new one. A new 'you know what' one.

And he was in Ten Forward. The atmosphere, as depressing as it had been, died. If there had been music playing, the Jukebox would have voluntarily yanked out its' own electrical cord and throttled itslef with it. No doubt with one of those awful 'screeches' that indicate music ending REALLY fast.

Leo Streely, bravest of the brave, swooped out from behind the bar and stood before the glowering Captain.

David and Goliath. Chihuaha and Elk Hound. Napoleon and That Wellington Dude. Really stupid little guy and Really Mean big guy.

"Hey there, boss! It's really great of you to drop by. I uh..can I get you anything? Prune juice? Antifreeze? Formaldahyde?" Leo asked, looking for the armed troops of jackbooted facist thugs that had heralded Bhrode's -last- appearance in Ten Forward. Leo wasn't about to go quietly - this- time!

Lysander and the room held their breaths, hoping Bhrode killed Leo. Beside him, Lysander heard Corgan's indrawn breath and the whispered words "oh please. . . Leo will be squashed like a bug! Finally!"

Unfortunatly, the Captain was led into a whispered conference with Leo to one side.

Lysander turned back to his brandy and downed it in one gulp. It was slightly less painfull than what he thought was going to ensue. James avoided a filthy swig of his cooling coffee yet again. But he was tempted.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE! ATTENTION EVERYONE! AS CAPTIAN BRHODE'S PUBLIC RELATIONS ATTACHE' IT IS MY PLEASURE TO INTRODUCE THE MAN OF THE HOUR HIMSELF, THE SULTAN OF SWATTING HIROGEN, THE KING OF THE PHOTON STING, THE AYATOLLAH OF RUNNIN YOUR ASS OVERAH..HE SPEAKS SOFTLY AND CARRIES A BIG HONKIN STICK..HE ..."

"Security, if that man isnt off the tables in 2 seconds, shoot him in the legs." Brhode ordered.

Lysander glanced at the chrono in futile hope. Beside him, Corgan was murmering "One Mississippi. . ." to himself while lifting up his pantleg, He unstrapped a Type 1 phaser from his ankle and started to adjust the setting for heavy stun (also known as 'Stir Fry' because it had a bad habit of turning people into vegetables if applied to their frontal lobes at close range.)

"Smeggin' hell! What are you doing, and where did you get that?" Lysander hissed under his breath, slapping at the phaser-I.

"What, you think I'm going to wait for security? No judge would convict me, and Bhrode will probally give me a medal, or a promotion." James grumbled, "And after having our asses handed to us by the Hirogen, I'm not taking any more chances. Relax. It's registered."

"You can't just shoot the runt. . ." Lysander began.

"Sure I can. Watch me. It's not like he hasn't been asking for it.. .begging even." James growled, trying to sight in on Leo's forehead through Lysanders waving hands. "Would you please stop that? Didn't they give you the 'needs of the many' speech at the academy?"

"I must have been...err.. distracted or sick that day . ." Lysander said, trying to remember if he'd been staring at Rebecca that day, or not.

"HERESBRHODEHAVEFUNTHEYREALLYOURSPAL!" Leo shouted then leaped off the table, leaving all eyes focused squarely on the man who had made their lives miserable since coming aboard.

Actually, Lysander mused, he sort of liked the Old Man. Bhrode was tough. Okay. . . VERY tough but he was fair. And the Princess liked him, which counted a lot in Lysanders' books.

James had a begrudging respect for the Captain as well, the only kind brought on by confrontation and finally realization. To James, Brhode was a role model, the type of Captain that you hated but knew you could learn a trick or two from. James respected and loathed his attitude, but he liked how the Captain wasn't afraid to do dirty deeds for the better of the crew.

He was hoping the dirty job of getting rid of Leo would be taken care of at this moment.

No such luck.

Bhrode stared down at Corgan, pointing a Phaser-I at a point over his (Bhrode's) right shoulder. With a gulp, James lowered the phaser to his side. Lysander didn't point ut that Corgan's hands were shaking, Lysanders were too at that point.

~"Fine... the runt is all yours; Brhode..."~ mused James.

Brhode clasped both hands behind his back and spoke clamly.

"With the threat of the Hirogen neutralized for the next millenia or so, and with the completion of the survey of the Mako Nebula, it is little wonder that my finely tuned crew, the pride of the Federation itself ,would take the initiative and flock to the ship's bar." he started looking over at Wil and Autum Quewenson.

"So nice of you both to not be copulating, but I guess this bar isn't quite the Bridge of a starship, is it?"

Neither spoke a word. Lysander suppressed a snort while James covered his mouth and snickered. Lys hadn't been there, but he'd seen the 3x hologram Leo Streely insisted on playing in slow motion, every three hours since the infamous arrival. Sometimes Leo used a laser pointer and 'explained' some technical details for the more naive members of the crew.

James however, had been a live witness to that event. He was at Ops when it all happened. It was up there on his list of "the most f**ked up happenings in James L. Corgan's life."

If there was -anything- more embarrassing than being beamed up to the Bridge in 'mid thrust' it'd have to be knowing that Leo Streely had pictures of your naked rear end and that he probally. . . did things while watching it. (One writer pauses here to laugh hysterically and then vomit into a handy bucket at the mere thought. The other writher just shudders and whimpers for his mommy. You decide who is who!)

Brhode continued to eye the room.

"Wonder Boy. Big suprise here." he said spotting Lysander; who promptly fought down a desire to slink away and shoot himself in the head. Or blow up the Warp Core and take everyone else with him. Rebecca probally wold have married him on the spot, if he had done either. "Mr. Corgan, what is a wake for the fallen without your presence." the Old Man said to the Lieutenent.

~~Whatever sir, just piss off~~ James thought inwardly, while displaying the total opposite of disgust on the outside.

"This man gets a drink on me." Brhode ordered Leo, then addressed the entire group again, aftr exchanging what, to Lysander, looked like a tender glance with Mikey P. Not that Lysander was insinuating anything here. Really. Nothing. ;)

"In fact you all do. You all are to celebrate your accomplishments. You marched through the valley of death today and did so like soldiers. You did not break. You did not retreat. You all may have severe disciplinary issues and when it

comes to doing your jobs efficiently, most of you flat out could be, and may soon be replaced with trained monkeys- but you performed when you were called upon. For that you have all earned this break."

His eyes narrowed. "Do not forget the sacrifices of 267 fellow officers who laid down their lives so that you all can heft mugs of ale, sing songs and make love again. They are the lucky ones. For only the dead have seen the end of war."

He paused, allowing a moment of uneasy silence. Lysander could hear the grease slithering off Corgan's Nacho platter, it was so quiet.

"We have been given new orders. We are to return to Starbase 415 and rendevous with the USS Prospero. We depart in one hour. You all WILL be in uniform and at your stations. I want the senior staff heading all departments. We will meet them as the conquering heroes that we are. Nothing less. Is that understood?"

A resounding 'Aye Sir!" echoed through the room, as Brhode turned crisply on the heel of his new Hirogen skin boots and marched out the door, leaving all behind speculating wildly about the nature of their upcoming meeting with the Prospero.

Leo, never one to miss an opportunity shouted aloud: "Ok, Ok, everyone! I gots 3-2 odds that Price is returning! 4-1 on Jii making it back ..any takers?"

Lysander turned to Corgan.

"What the SMEG was all that about, do you wonder?" he asked James in amazement.

"What do you think it is?" James snipped, strapping his type one peashooter back onto his ankle holster, "Price and the others were on the Prospero. They're probably dropping them off and taking Captain Brhode back to wherever he came from. Jeez, Lysander. There isn't a conspiracy coming out of every microfracture in the hull, you know. It might be something strange, or it might be a standard rendezvous. I'd prefer the latter because I have enough sh*t to worry about."

"Shit! I meant the speech! Don't you -know- any smeggin' better than to mention the 'C' word around Leo?" Lysander hissed.

"C-word? What C-word?" asked Corgan, much too loudly.

"CONSPIRACY! Conspiracy! I knew it! It's all clear to me now. . . the grassy knoll. . . the black starships! Those Hirogen! The big pile of steaming monkey poop replacing Price! Them trying to jail me! Assigning that slutty looking drunk girl passed out over there to 'report on it!!" Leo shrieked, pointing to Kit Jordan napping, head on arms at a table.

In full realization, James slapped his hand on his forehead and almost buried himself into his plate of nachos, "Oro..."

"There you go with that smeggin' word again! What the hell is with you and... oro?" Lysander interrogated.

"It's Japanese. I know a few words and this one is a general expression of frustration and annoyance. Sort of like if someone sighed, or said 'Oy Vey'."

"Oh... sounds stupid. Stop it!" Lysander grumped.

"So you wanted to know about the speech? Wasn't it obvious? He wanted to make us feel proud that we had some drawn out and bloody battle of attrition AND that we won. Oh, and somehow the high body count is supposed to remind us that the price was highand all that tripe. Pretty much your standard battle speech. I heard a lot of them during the war, so you can understand why I'm a bit jaded." Corgan muttered, under Leo's diatribe.

". . .and then they're gonna replace all the -real- dogs with android dogs! And they'll put microchips in our butts to control out minds. . and then THEY will put all people who're on to them in big prison asteroids! And they'll do stuff. . MORE stuff to their butts there! I seen the pictures!. . . I know stuff! Imma trained reporter! They only -think- I'm not onto their little plans. . . but I see stuff. . . I see stupid people. . ." Leo was raving, to a still napping Kit Jordan.

James said in addition, "Still, I guess we should be proud. We were all raised to fight. This is our reward. We’re not explorers anymore, we're soldiers and we should consider this a good thing, right?"

"I need another drink. . ." Lysander mused. Philosophical debates left him bored.

"You and me both." James agreed. No many people were willing to talk to him philosophically. He raised his coffee mug to his lips, untouched since hearrived, and slowly brought the cooling liquid to his mouth.

But... something smelled strange. It was a musky odor, the combination of a waste reclamator and someone's sweaty buttocks strained through a filthy plasma filter and spit on by dozens of irate fast food employees.

"God dammit Leo! Did you pour this down your asscrack again!" Yelled the Lieutenant, "What did I tell you before? I don't want your herpies on my lips!"

Leo wandered by, still muttering about the deep, dark conspiracies he saw in motion all around him, that and the fact that Corgan was singing a different tune the other night. . .

Just another day in Ten Forward.

“The One Ensign Show”
By Ens. Curtis Geluf, Engineering

“Be ready to leave in an hour? ONE HOUR?! Not a chance in Hell!” Curtis looked around the badly damage engineering department. He had tallied the number of crewmen he had, 9, not enough to get everything working in an hour. Being the ranking officer in Engineering at the moment, Curtis began assigning tasks to teams of two. Focusing mostly on systems that would allow the ship to move, but also repairing damage to several life-support monitors and environmental controls.

“I’ll bet half the crew is in ten-forward.” Curtis mumbled to himself. As far as he was concerned, this whole thing wasn’t fair. He quickly decided that if the Captain really was serious about getting underway, then he was going to have to ask for some help.

“Bridge, this is Ensign Geluf in Engineering.” He said to the comm system.

“Bridge here.” Came an unrecognizable voice.

“Listen, I’ve got about 8 crewmen down here plus myself. If the captain wants us out of here in an hour, I’m gonna need a LOT more help than what I have. Anyone you can spare would be useful. I don’t even care if they have engineering experience, they can mop the floor. I need at LEAST 10 more people down here, minimum.”

“We’ll see what we can do Ensign, bridge out.”

“Yeah, sure.” Said Curtis to no one in particular. He had only seen an engineering bay look worse than this once. That was when he was suddenly thrust into the role of acting chief engineer back on the U.S.S. Marie-Curie. They had been under attack by renegade Romulans and the Chief had died in an explosion. It looked bad for the ship until Curtis managed to manually restore the shields and weapons by rerouting power from the tractor beams through the EPS conduit. It earned him his only medal, the Starfleet Medal for Initiative and he got a hardy pat on the back.

There was no Romulan threat this time, just lots of work.

“Just like old times.” Curtis mused to himself and he got back to work, hoping the higher powers on the bridge were sending him some much needed assistance.

“Sir!” shouted a crewman. “Sir! I need you to take a look at these readouts!”

“Right, right, coming crewman….crewman….” Curtis realized that he actually didn’t know many of the people down here.

“Jackson sir.” Replied the crewman.

“Right then Jackson, what’s the problem?”

“This doesn’t look right. See here? The gamma emissions from the core are out of alignment.” Said Jackson, mildly concerned.

“Not a problem, run a level 2 diagnostic on the auxiliary coolant systems, they should self-correct themselves.” Answered Curtis.

“Aye sir!”

“Ensign Geluf sir!” came another shout from across Engineering.

“Yes crewman…crewman….oh geez, what’s your name?” said Curtis, a little annoyed with himself.

“Mitchell sir.” The young female crewman responded.

“Alright Mitchell, what’s your problem?”

“The environmental controls are completely messed up.” Mitchell said.

“Messed up, crewman?”

“Well, see, the power intake and output are out of sync. They aren’t balancing each other out.”

“Here, watch.” Curtis said. He then deftly smacked the console with his right hand, returning the power readouts to normal.

“There you go.” He said.

“Wow sir…thanks.” said the crewman, with a shocked look on her face.

“Not all engineering solutions are scientific Mitchell.” Smiled Curtis.

“Sir! Ensign!” came another shout.

“What now?”

“Sir!” came a second shout.

“Ensign!” came a third yell.

“Hey hey HEY! Everybody chill out, I’ll get these one at a time! I’m not the one Ensign show over here!” Curtis barked.

Though in reality, he knew that’s exactly what he was.

"Of Patience and Patients" pt. 1

Lt. j/g Brian Elessidil
Counselor

Lt. Autumn Quevvenson
ACMO

Lt. Cmdr. Maxwell-Navarre Shinta
Asst. Chief Counselor

[OOC: Takes place immediately after "Calgon, Take Me Away...."]

Brian looked at Shinta lying on the bio bed. She looked terrible.

He had the utmost confidence in Autumn's abilities as a physician, but he wasn't used to seeing Shinta like this, so bloodied and seemingly lifeless, flat on her back in sickbay. She just didn't seem like the same strong, intelligent, and energetic person he knew.

"How's she doing, Autumn?" he asked.

Autumn was running the tricorder over Shinta's form. "She has looked better" She said, her accent softly floating around her words. "I do not know how long it will take to fix this damage but I know that Shinta is a fighter and she shall live."

"I can't argue with that," Brian agreed. But however sincerely he meant the words, something about what he saw before him made him less certain than he would have preferred.

For a moment, Brian's thoughts settled on Autumn; the doctor was going to be seeing a lot of people for the next several days. He sensed that she had summoned a resolve, an inner strength, to keep her going through this. And while it was obvious she was a dedicated and concerned physician, he also sensed an attempt to distance herself emotionally from it all. A logical and useful defence for someone in her line of duty, he thought.

Turning to her, he asked with curiosity, "And how are -you- doing, Autumn?"

Autumn looked up and in one word summed up his thoughts. "Surviving" she looked to the nearest nurse. "Activate Dr Grinch. Dr Martin is busy." The nurse nodded and walked over and activated the EMH. Grinch appeared and said. "Please state the.. Ah Autumn.. hmm not looking good here."

Autumn nodded and Grinch picked up the Dermal regenerator and got to work. Autumn turned and looked Brian up and down. "No injuries?" she asked.

"Nothing significant," he replied with a slight shake of his head. There was the intensifying headache, but he felt it would be inappropriate to request treatment for a headache while sickbay was stacking up with seriously wounded and traumatized patients.

It was obvious to Brian that Autumn had neither the time nor the inclination to be dealing with a counsellor right now. It made plenty of sense actually. She was doing what needed to be done at the moment and to distract her in any way from that was not right. Just as well -- there were others in sickbay right now that he probably -should- check on anyway.

Autumn nodded and turned back to Shinta's form. "Good to see that some of us at least came out of it ok." She took another dermal regenerator and began to work on Shinta.

"Doctor?" Brian asked quizzically. Had he heard some shade of suggestion in her statement?

Autumn looked up. "Some people never stood a chance with these Hirogen Counsellor.. Did you see the room where they slaughtered people every minuet? That was horrific." It was obviously Autumn had been there and seen it and she had seen the station as well. "Those that survived they will be scared for life. I just hope Brhode is pleased that his fight with the Alpha killed that many innocents."

He couldn't argue or offer a particularly sound defence -- her anger was justified. Brian hadn't seen the room she referred to but he didn't have to, seeing Shinta here like this was hard enough. But he tried nonetheless to offer something that might help her deal with the anger. Maybe.

"'Pleased' might be a stretch, even for our illustrious captain, Autumn. I'm not sure if what he did was right or not but I can't help but wonder if he -hadn't- whether -anyone- would have survived."

Autumn shrugged. "Sorry but my opinion is different.. If Price had been here,.. He would have listened to his XO... who would have been Thomas and Not Rebecca. This could have all been avoided." Autumn had known Thomas as a good XO. Her confidence in Rebecca had never been strong. She kept working trying to fix Shinta up while she spoke. Her anger and a slight feeling of betrayal was in her voice as she spoke to Brian.

"Unfortunately, we'll never know how things would've gone if Captain Price had been in command or Commander Thomas hadn't been let go," he said, wondering himself if things would have turned out differently. "I think the best any of us can do now, especially doctors and counsellors, is to do our best to help the ones who made it, despite our own anger or grief. But you don't need me to tell you how difficult that's going to be, especially when we can't understand the actions behind the cause of that anger or grief."

"Or the motivations of a captain we might feel betrayed his crew," Brian added in response to her thoughts.

She looked at him, she was use to Betazoids being around her. She watched his face and wondered how deep he could probe her mind, but she shoved it to the back of her mind and said. "Personally when one of my crew is blown up in a brig cell by those Hirogen, because Brhode couldn't get the guts up to actually admit he was wrong.. then yes I believe he did betray the Galaxy and its crew"

At this point Shinta opened her eyes. Angry words seemed to do that to her today. She was still in a lot of pain, and her mind wasn't completely clear. "Brian" she croaked. "My children, are they all right? And Alia?"

"Shinta," Brian responded, glad to see her conscious again. "I'm sure the kids and Alia are fine." He actually had no idea on either, but he wanted to keep Shinta focused on getting herself better for now. He made a mental note to find out what he could about Shinta's family as soon as he could.

Shinta looked around her, so many people in agony. "Autumn, please go and helps somebody who really needs it. I'm fine, I need to help those people." If only she could ignore the pain coursing through her body.

Autumn rolled her eyes and said. "When did you get you medical degree Shinta?" she looked down at the woman. "I am going to make sure you are really ok.. and then I shall go and help the others... there are enough doctors to go around as well as EMH's."

Brian concurred. "Shinta, you're -not- ok just yet. Let Autumn help you and you'll be fine all the sooner."

"Ultimatum"

Starring :
Commander Rebecca von Ernst,
Admiral Jurgen Hoth (NPC)

(San Francisco)

With a weary sigh, Admiral Jurgen Hoth, Chief of Tactical Operations pushed back from his polished paper-cluttered deck and let the stresses of the day fall away.

Outside the window of his 95th floor Office at Fleet Headquarters, the San Francisco skyline was glowing dully under gray overcast skies, and a light misting rain streaked his window with crystal droplets of water.

Slumping a bit in his padded chair, Hoth considered the sparkling droplets for many moments before shaking himself out of his reverie and returning his attention to the many matters at hand. The current organizational makeup of the 9th Fleet's Tactical personnel lay scattered across most of his desk, with little scribbled lines and arrows indicating possible reassignment possibilities, or changes of command, while elsewhere circled names, and little doodled asterisks identified potential candidates for the newly opened 359 School.

As Head of several hundred thousand Tactical Officers, on thousands of ships, scattered across half the Milky Way, Hoth took an inordinate interest in the minutia of his responsibilities that would have been better left to a lesser ranked staff officer.

Rather than pander to Federation Politicians, or play his own one-upmanship games with the other Fleet Bureaucracy, the gray haired warrior devoted his time to shuffling his precious living resources from post to post, and from ship to ship in an obsessive aim to make the Tactical wing of Starfleet the most well prepared and professional wing of the entire fleet.

Contrary to popular belief, Hoth didn't not actually hold sway over the actual deployment of the various starships compromising the individual fleets, but rather headed the crews that manned them. He held great sway over BuPers in regards to the arrangement of Tactical Personnel, and took great pride in being able to reshuffle the whole deck with well practiced speed and efficiency.

He may not command the ships . . . . . but he sure did hold sway over the Captains, and their Department Chiefs.

Training of said Tactical Personnel was another of his personal responsibilities, and over the last few years he had single-handedly expanded this fiefdom to comprise one of the most advance training facilities outside of The Academy itself.

The Holo-Poster of The Impressive 359 School hanging behind his desk was testament to his unwavering vision of excellence. Run by Hoth's own hand-picked man, Commander John Zaletta, 359 was shaping up to be every bit as successful as the Admiral had imagined. Every Month hndreds of students in the form of Tactocal Officers, and Full-Starship Captains attended the Tactical lectures, and participated in Advanced Holographic training, as well as full Live-Fire Exercises with Actual Starships weaving in and out of the drifting wreckage of the shattered Wolf 359 Fleet.

The ghosts of tragedies past was the new playground for Hoth and his Elite cadre of Super-Captains.

Hoth frowned at the rain streaked window. Of course there were setbacks.

BuPers in its debatable wisdom had seen fit to bestow The Fleet's newest Battleship, The Enterprise 'E' on that sniveling diplo-wimp Picard and his band of merry men. Hoth had nothing against great Scientists and Explorers, but why the hell did they have to use HIS WARHSIP for counting space dust particles!?

The Warhawk Captain Hoth had slated for the job had been rejected at the last minute by the Fleet Oversight Committee in the Federation Senate, and thus the biggest gun in the Armada was being wielded by the (in Hoth's opinion) most unreliable warrior.

A soft knock at the door broke the Admiral's musings, and he straightened up in his chair before admitting one of his personal staffers.

"Pardon the Interruption sir," the soft spoken Human Lt Commander began, "But Signal Corps reports that the GALAXY has emerged from the Mako cloud, and is again in subspace Contact. . . . . You wanted to be notified."

Brightening noticeably, Hoth immediately forgot about Picard and his ilk, thanking the staffer before dismissing him again.

The Galaxy!!!

Amidst the jumble of paperwork and frustration, there were a few highlights to Hoth's job. Of particular interest was his own personal hobby of micromanaging the careers of certain young officers he had identified as having particular potential for Command from an early age.

Rather than waiting for the rusty wheels of bureaucracy to slowly crush the life of these officers over years upon years of fruitless service at lower ranks, Hoth devised the idea of cramming as much knowledge and responsibility down their throats as was humanly possible in as short a period of time.

The War-Weary Fleet needed Talented Captains to replace the current crop of milk-sop deadwood, and Hoth intended for his 'special cadre' to be those Captains.

One of the most delightful challenges was one of his original recruits, a delightful young girl from Minnesota he had managed to 'steal' out of the Sciences curriculum back at the Academy.

Although young Rebecca had demonstrated rather pitiful skills at most tasks involving personal initiative or responsibility, she EXCELLED at combat simulations to such a degree that Hoth decide to make her the cornerstone of his grand 'experiment.'

~~~If I can turn this mouse into a lion,~~~ he mused, ~~~then there' s nothing we cant do!~~~

Using his influence at BuPers to keep the girl safe in a cushy Starbasse Job during the final months of the Dominion War, Hoth eventually rotated her out to the post-war fleet. He went instant success by placing her on a pure combat-ship right out of the gate. The Defiant Class USS Victory.

It was a DISASTER. . . . . .

In the aftermath of the Nar Halals Debacle, Hoth had to pull every string he had to get the skittish young Ensign off at the Court Marshall, and reassigned to a more 'peaceful' ship.

The Galaxy. . ..

The crackling image on his desktop display sputtered and hissed interrupting his thoughts, and lo and behold. . . . .there she was.

"Ah Rebecca my good girl . . . so nice to see you again." Hoth sniled warmly across a billion billion miles of space.

"Admiral." The coldness in Rebecca's voice was evident despite the poor reception. "I wasn't expecting a live transmission sir. What is it I can assist you with today?"

Hoth almost swallowed his tongue in surprise. The reply was smooth polite and quite professional . . . . . . But it was coming from Rebecca!??!

Over the years he had grown accustomed to the stuttering whispering nervousness of the shy skittish girl, and the sudden appearance of this coldly confident young officer with those icy piercing eyes was NOT the girl he expected.

~~~Could Brhode have turned this child around so quickly?~~~ he wondered before regaining his stride.

"So nice to HEAR from you as well my dear." He continued with a smile. "Are my senses deceiving me or is that actually an even tone of voice you're using there?"

"Charming as always." Rebecca replied icily, not at all amused. The emotionless-ness of her voice chilled the 95th floor office a few degrees. "What can I do for you sir." The repeating of herself was a not to subtle indication of her impatience with his call, and the startled Hoth didn't know whether to jump for joy that she'd found her inner steel, or ream her out for her sudden impertinence.

"Well, Commander," he switched to formality instead, "I merely wanted to inquire as to your arrival time at Starbase 415. Galaxy has some refit time coming, and wanted you to come back to 359 for the leave. I can have the SOMERSBY there in just . . . . . . . "

"No." The single short refusal sliced through Hoth's sentence like a phaser through butter-Klingons.

"No?" Hoth parroted in amazement, "I don't think that . . . "

"I said 'no'. Admiral." Rebecca repeated her brown eyes unswerving, her face a hard mask of emotionless certainty.

"Now see here Commander . . ." Hoth began, deciding to quell this little Insurrection, "We've got a lot of things to go over this leave and . . ."

"And I'm not going to spend yet 'Another' of my personal leaves visiting your floating mausoleum at 359 sir. I'm going to go home like everyone else."

Hoth's eyebrows dropped into furious points , "Listen young lady , stop interrupting me or . . . ."

"Or, you'll do nothing. . . It's a well published fact that I have spent every leave for the last year at your beck and call Admiral, Rebecca rode over his protests smoothly and efficiently, "I'm going home, and if you ever want your super-genius to ever set foot on a starship again, you're gonna not utter a peep of complaint."

"You can't . . . . . "

"I did. Two weeks wont cause the Federation to crumble and fall. I go home now with your blessings, or I resign and go home permanently. . . .. Your choice."

" ! "

"I thought so." Rebecca said unblinkingly. "Thanks for calling Admiral . . .drop by the farm if you're in the neighborhood." The sarcasm dripped heavily off her words. (Rebecca using sarcasm?)

With a sudden CLIK. . . .The connection closed at the other end, and Hoth was left alone with his protests.

SHE HAD HUNG UP ON HIM!!!!

Alone in the silence of his office, Hoth felt a sudden chill.

The mice it seemed, had taken over the experiment.

"A sight for sore eyes"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price

*** USS Prospero - on route to meet up with the USS Galaxy ***

Captain Price was excited to be going home. He and the senior crewmembers from the USS Galaxy were waiting in the executive conference room off the bridge of the USS Prospero in anticipation of their rendezvous with the USS Galaxy. Finally the word came through via a hail from Lieutenant Harper on the bridge.

["Captain Price, we are approaching the USS Galaxy now sir. Admiral T'Paal thought you and your officers might want to come onto the bridge when we approach."]

Lee glanced at the three officers that had gone through the hell of this mission with him. Commanders Dallas, Peterson and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin all returned their desire silently with their facial expressions.

"Tell the Admiral we will be right out 'mate." The Captain returned.

The four officers then made the short trip from the conference room onto the Prospero's bridge. It was a great deal smaller then that of the Galaxy, but the layout wasn't too different. It was easy to pick out the different stations and what their functions were.

Near the front of the bridge, a woman with jet-black hair called out, "Dropping out of warp Admiral."

T'Paal glanced over and acknowledged the Galaxy crewmembers presence with a subtle movement of her chin. Then she answered the helmswoman. "Are we close enough to establish a visual Ensign?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Put her on screen. Maximum magnification." T'Paal ordered.

"On screen. Yes Ma'am."

The main view screen changed from slow moving stars to a close up of the approaching USS Galaxy. She looked magnificent, a true sight for sore eyes. To Price, Dallas, Peterson and Elaithin the Galaxy was their home. It was no wonder why they were moved at seeing the beautiful starship once again. But the reaction to the sight of the premier Galaxy class starship of the fleet went beyond that. The Galaxy's shear size and seductive lines impressed even the members of the command crew of the Prospero.

"There she is." Price announced as he leaned on the handrail that circled the bridge, grasping it in both hands. "Just as beautiful as I remember her."

Near the Captain, Commander Dallas and Commander Peterson both stood admiring the ship they had grown to love. On Lee's opposite side, Lieutenant Commander Elaithin nodded as well. "I forget how big the lady really is. It's not often I get to see her from the outside." Jii smiled.

Vice-Admiral T'Paal didn't react with the same reverence as the Galaxy crewmembers she was transporting, or even the younger members of her own command crew. In Vulcan style she remained calm and focused, not showing any sign of emotion. "Lieutenant Harper, contact Captain Brhode and inform him I will be beaming over with the Captain's party."

"Yes Ma'am." Harper responded as he began readying the transmission.

T'Paal rose out of the command chair. "Lieutenant Commander Onzu the bridge is yours." She announce before stepping over to where the Galaxy crewmembers were standing, admiring their ship on the main view screen.

The Admiral stopped near Captain Price and motioned with a hand towards the Prospero's turbolift. "If you please?"

"Our pleasure 'Admiral." Lee said with a grin. Walking over and entering the turbolift, the General was happy to be going home to the Galaxy. Judging by the smiles on the other team members faces, they all shared the Captain's sentiments as the turbolift doors closed.

***

*** Earlier, on board the USS Galaxy ***

The chiseled lines that scoured Brhode's forehead in permanent creases somehow seemed deeper then usual as he addressed Vice-Admiral T'Paal over sub-space in his ready room.

"Yes I understand Admiral." Brhode stated with as much respect and understanding as the old hawk could muster, which wasn't a whole lot mind you, given he was addressing an Admiral. "I will have them assemble in Ten Forward as before. No sense wasting any time. I agree completely."

["Good. We should rendezvous with you in two hours. Once Captain Price and his staff are reinstated we will depart for our next assignment on board the Prospero."] Vice-Admiral T'Paal informed evenly.

"I'll be ready Admiral. Give Captain Price my congratulations on a successful mission..." Brhode added with just a drip of sarcasm; probably not enough for the Admiral to even notice.

["I will do that Captain. See you in two hours then. Vice-Admiral T'Paal out."]

The channel closed causing the UFP logo to appear on Brhode's terminal. Reaching, the Captain deactivated it with a sigh. "Well, time to get to the business at hand." He stated to himself as he rose up out of the leather chair and headed to the bridge.

The doors swished open and Brhode marched out to the expected sound of the command crew holding their breaths, all in unison. It was a reaction that Captain Brhode had grown used to with this crew. Having only been in command of the ship for a short time, he still hadn't had a chance to get to know everyone nor did they have the time to get to really know him. Pausing there between the ready room and the command well, John glanced around and actually felt a little sorry that he had to leave. There was great potential in this ship and with some members of this crew. Brhode only wished he had the time and authority to develop that potential to the fullest extent possible. Unfortunately Price surviving the mission on Romulus threw a wrench into that plan...

The only officer on the bridge at the time that wasn't sucking wind was Rebecca Von'ernst. She was sitting in the command chair, shaking her one dangling foot nervously while sitting on the other that was carefully folded underneath her on the chair. Brhode noticed she didn't take that sudden gasp of breath when he entered the bridge that the other officers had. Though she did stop shaking her foot and instead began nibbling on her lower lip.

"Commander, can I see you in my office please?" Brhode ordered.

The doe-eyed Rebecca just nodded. Glancing over to the helm, she called out, "Gustavson, y..y..yo..you have the conn."

Rebecca then got out of the command chair and limped towards the Captain. A million pins and needles racking her foot that had fallen asleep where she sat on it for so long in the command chair!

Brhode didn't seem to be too concerned with the First Officer's shuddering or the way she was walking on her numb leg. The Captain just waited for her to reach where he was standing and then the two of them entered the ready room to have a closed door meeting about who knows what.

***

*** Present - Bridge of USS Galaxy ***

"Captain, incoming hail from the USS Prospero sir." Lysander reported from the Tactical station.

Brhode glanced back from the command chair. "On screen mister Hawksley."

The image on the main view screen changed from that of the approaching Excelsior class USS Prospero to the close up image of her Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Harper.

["This is Lieutenant Harper of the USS Prospero."]

"We hear you Lieutenant. Captain Brhode of the USS Galaxy. What is it?" the Captain asked with his usual bluntness.

["Vice-Admiral T'Paal and company will be beaming over to the Galaxy as soon as we reach transporter range sir."] Harper informed as ordered.

"I understand. We will be standing by. Anything else?" Brhode asked.

["No Captain. That's it."]

"Fine. USS Galaxy out." The Captain stated before thumbing the control on the arm of the command chair to disconnect the channel.

The image of the Prospero immediately returned to the main view screen.

Brhode let his hands linger on the arms of the Galaxy's command chair for a moment. It was as if he was admiring the "feel" of the powerful position on board one of Starfleet's mightiest vessels in the fleet. Finally he called out. "'Commander Hawksley, open a ship wide channel."

A series of beeps sounded out from the Tactical Arch where Lysander was standing. "Ready sir."

Brhode took in a deep breath. "Attention all hands. There will be an assembly in the ship's lounge in ten minutes. All senior officers are required to attend. Any other crewmembers wishing to be present may do so, standing room permitting. That is all."

The Captain stood and motioned to Lysander to cut the channel, which he did.

"Hawksley, Gustavson, you are with me." Brhode announced as he made his way towards the turbolift and waited for the two senior officers to join him. From the turbolift the Captain called out, "Sardar you have the bridge."

The turbolift doors then closed sending Brhode and the other senior officers to Ten Forward to meet with the arriving "guests" from the USS Prospero.

"Innuendo."
by
Lt.jg. Alia Drakely, security.

Alia finally reached her quarters, laying her sword upon the nearest surface, feeling no better for however ripped her uniform may be, or how much her head hurt, or how much her body ached...and that was nearly all she had achieved in her wanderings after leaving Brian.

Her eyes cast around her quarters, just how it had been left by them before going off to take engineering...a couple of bandages scattered about...a bowl of blood stained water on the floor with the cloth that was just as tainted. It made her feel physically ill.

She took two long steps over to it and took it up, it barely touching her hands before it was flung across the room in a fit of anger. The satisfaction she felt at hearing the bowl smash against the bulkhead was smaller than she would have liked.

Clenching her fists controlled the shaking in her hands to some degree as she stood motionless in the middle of her room, her eyes closed as she willed her breathing to normal, drawing strength and calm from the silence around her.

Slowly opening her eyes, she kept the familiar burning of anger firmly at bay, wearing a cool, neutral mask as she moved to find out her cloth, and then took up her sword, carefully cleaning it. She looked down at the blade as her hands worked, it was almost as if she were caressing it with how gently she treated the sword. When she was satisfied with it's appearance, she raised it up and repeated the action she had done with her dagger, lifting the sword and brushing her lips across the family crest, then lifted her face to look upward, offering her thanks.

She carefully replaced it on her wall, taking a few moments to regard the sword covered bulkhead...a display of her prized blades...a token of her life...and that consideration brought about an odd feeling in her.

Turning sharply away from them, Alia moved slowly to her bedroom, walking past the glass shards on the floor that gleamed with crimson coloured water without so much as throwing them a glance. She hastily stripped as she went, wanting to get the ripped and stained uniform away from her skin and then absently thought about wrapping her dressing gown around herself as she started to shiver, her skin in goosebumps.

As she lowered herself to the bed, it was with a permanent ache in her body and weariness in movement, her hand automatically moving to the drawer to pull out her scotch...the scotch that in a way she wished she had just kept drinking earlier. But Brian had pulled her awake.

Brian...the name in her mind sent a shiver up her spine and she quickly took a drink, hoping the comforting warmth would be able to suppress the cold that cut into her. Her eyes squeezed shut against the memories in engineering. She had broken her vow...her vow to herself from all those years ago that she would never again raise a weapon in anger against a friend. But yet...that's exactly what she had done...yet again. And she had been just as serious and vicious minded about it with Brian as she had been the first time. Alia only ever drew her weapon if she was prepared to follow through...never in idle threat. That first time she had betrayed her friend's trust by raising her weapon to him, he had forgiven her. Could Brian?

It was just as she was about to take her seventh mouthful of scotch that Alia suddenly was thrown back into reality with the thought of her friends...how they had fared on the planet. She sprang up from the bed and set the bottle aside and found out a fresh uniform to throw on before bolting out the door, heading for the transporter rooms.

"A sight for tired eyes."
by
Lt.jg. Arel Smith, security.
Lt.jg. Alia Drakely, security.

Alia waited outside the transporter rooms, leaning in what she hoped looked like a casual manner against the bulkhead whilst never taking her eyes off the people who were coming back up onto the ship. She craned her neck slightly to see more people as she started to grow anxious as she looked...worried that they weren't coming back alive. Her fingers drummed on the bulkhead as she tried to reassure herself a little by humming...

That's when she saw her.

A grin broke out on Alia's features and she didn't care about any odd looks she got as she broke into a run and flung her arms around Arel's neck, holding her close, even as she knew that Arel would probably not particularly appreciate the gesture...she didn't care, because Alia needed it even if Arel didn't.

"Thank god! I thought you were a goner there for a moment girl! Thank god you're safe!" Alia said with a grin.

Arel, true to form, tensed up from the moment the hug began. But at least, Alia thought, she didn't threaten to beat me up. Arel gave her a tired smile.

"Can't kill me." she said. It was apparent however that someone had tried. The right arm of Arel's uniform was caked with blood and something else that frankly smelt bad. Arel followed her gaze to her shoulder and gave a partial shrug. "I suppose I should go to Sickbay."

Volunteering to go to Sickbay? Alia thought with a frown. One of the great bonds that they shared as friends was their mutual hatred of doctors and hospitals.

"The ship is completely secure?" Arel asked, interrupting Alia's thoughts.

Alia's hands automatically moved to gently clasp behind her back as they walked together, readying herself for facing the dreaded cursed land known as sickbay. The mere thought made her shudder.

"They're just tying loose ends up as we speak." Alia replied, her head turning so she could look at her friend, her keen eyes taking in the tired, drained look etched on her features. Alia nodded at Arel's bloodied shoulder with a quirk of her eyebrow. "See? If you'd have just paid attention to my instructions on combat when I've been *practically* training you, Arel, then they would never have got you." She said with a mock superior tone, but also a playful smile to show she was just trying to lighten the mood.

Arel snorted. "I see this experience hasn't killed your sense of humor."

"Nope" Alia replied with a toothy grin.

"Too bad. How was it here with the Hirogen, Alia?"

Alia's carefree expression darkened then. "The Hirogen? Oh *they* were just fine...." She said with absent sarcasm....just me who failed, Alia added to herself.

Arel nodded "You were born with courage" Alia didnt know what to say to that.

They stopped outside Sickbay where Arel gave an audible sigh. "I hate doctors."

Alia gave Arel a chuckle. "It's the equipment that I hate...but doctors are just as bad." She gave her friend a nudge with her elbow. "Come on...I'll even hold your hand." She teased with a smile, leading them in.

The room was swarming with people....even worse. But they managed to fight their way through to be seen, the last thing that either of them wanted was to be waiting around here any longer than necessary.

"I need to go report in and then run some errands" Arel said when they had finally gotten out of the chaos. "Maybe we can meet up later?"

"Sure."

"Im glad you made it you know. I was afraid because you really are bad at combat."

"Get out of here, Arel" Alia said with a laugh. It was that comment that brought back a sudden memory, her holding her sword across the Hirogen's hand in the middle of combat...so very similar to the way in which she had held it across the man she considered one of her closest friend's hand...and she wasn't sure how she would have continued if they hadn't been interrupted. "Yeah...real bad." She said softly before moving away from Arel.

"Psycho Dreams and Revelations"
By Lieutenant Electra Reece
Chief Operations Officer, USS Galaxy

Guest Starring:
Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
Assistant Chief Operations Officer, USS Galaxy
And Lieutenant JG Vladimir Malgin Medical Doctor, USS Galaxy

Location: Sickbay, USS Galaxy

Soundtrack: "Walk on Water" By Ozzy Osbourne ("Beavis and Butthead Do America"
Soundtrack, Circa 1996. One of my favorite Ozzy songs)

NRPG: Dedicated to Elaine Karnes, the former writer for Lieutenant Electra Reece, and as good of a writing partner as anyone can have. Good luck and god bless, okay Elaine? Peace out!

-----

The last place James Corgan ever expected himself to be in, he was wading hip deep in the submerged depths of his own self conscience. One minute, he thought he was awake in sickbay, grinning over the defeat of the Hirogen Beta Letag, but it seemed, like the entire hunt, like an unbelievable nightmare conjured up in the mind of a madman.

More specifically, his madman mind. If he wasn't on the planet or the ship anymore, he knew he ended up somewhere else. Only problem was... where was here? Was he in a dream?

Or was it the afterlife? He couldn't tell. After all the years of risking his life, of dodging assimilating Borg, sadistic Vampires, brutal Jem'Hadar and Hirogen hunters, never once did he visit the afterlife. Sometime it was the place that was always out of reach, the only salvation he had in a world gone mad with destruction and misery. Velvety smooth to the touch on his battered and beaten soul, death was comfortable for a man who spent most of his life seeking it.

In his dark dream, floating noiselessly through the void, he was rather disappointed by how the mental process of death was coming out. He expected to see a light at the end of the tunnel, travel through it with angels and trumpets heralding his entrance to whatever awaited him. None of that showy nonsense (he came to that conclusion) came up and hurried him to the afterlife.

"Boy... this is a disappointment. I thought death was dramatic. Guess it just... for a lack of a better word... sucks."

There was nothing in his mind, absolutely nothing that he could point out as a landmark. He was trapped in a pitch black limbo of some sorts, and whatever god (or gods) controlled his fate was on a lunch break. He envisioned a holy figure, munching down on an ambrosia sandwich, pointing at the tiny insignificant warrior waiting for the pearly gates to open. Then, as the holy figure opened it's mouth, showering filthy ambrosia crumbs all over Lieutenant Corgan, it would point one massive holy finger down upon him, and give him his holy verdict.

A smile and an uproarious laugh, heard all over the heavens, and added by the thousands of angels looking downwards. But none of that appeared. There was just darkness. Or maybe God (or gods) didn't want to show their faces as laughed at him in an effort to not hurt his feelings.

James was not going to give them the satisfaction of watching him grovel for his afterlife fate. Whatever was in store for him turned out to be a load of hype, topped off with a black void called his new home.

James shrugged, "Oh well... I guess I'll have to walk."

He wasn't going to give up on the fact that there was more to death than a big black hole where his soul was supposed to live. If that was the case, the afterlife was going to be one boring ride that he wanted to get off. The afterlife was supposed to be filled with wonderful things, such as bright lights, whizzing noises, trumpets, holy creatures, clouds, latinum lined walls and figures from his life, or there was supposed to be a lot of fire, brimstone and strange red creatures with pitchforks. Where is all that? James wondered, Why the hell am I here instead of... there?

What a load of crap!

Very much wishing he was alive to be out of his boring new home, James wandered in... who knew what direction. With nothing but darkness to wade through, he didn't know what direction to go into. He just... walked, keeping one foot in front of the other and hoping it led to a straight line to something other than darkness.

It seemed like hours for all he knew (and cared... being dead negated the importance of linear time) he was wandering through the darkness. He noticed as he travelled that his uniform (flawless as the day it was replicated) never wore out. The type two phaser magnetically attached to his belt was always fully charged, and a scythe quite similar to the Archangel of Death's favorite weapon was always polished as it was strapped to his back. Curious as to his choice of attire and equipment, James wondered why he was here, and whether it was really death or a sick dream.

During the time wandering, he was thinking of what happened on the planet's surface. With an eternity to kill, he decided to resolve the worse issues first.

That is, if he was dead.

Where the hell am I? Oh well... back to what's important.

He wasn't sure why he acted the way he did on the Hunter's planet, opting to act as if he himself was a savage alien hunter rather than the civilized Starfleet Officer he was trained to be. It was as if his old wartime instincts were re-awaken, the killer instinct inside of him was resurrected in time for him to destroy his enemies one by one.

Just like so many times before.

The Borg were the first to awaken his assassin-esqe side, but it was too late as he was inches away from being assimilated. Then, he was just a scared cadet, not wanting anything more but an enjoyable cadet cruise. Combine it all with the massacre of the USS Odyssey, he was locked into a permanent killer mode until the end of the war, where he realized that a killer was no longer useful.

And still, he relied on these skills and instincts to survive yet another Borg encounter, a surprise attack by the Cardassians, a troupe of vampires and now a pack of exotic Delta Quadrant big game hunters and most recently one of their martial arts masters.

And not once during those times did he try to stop himself. He always had a convenient excuse to keep on killing. There was always a threat that had to be wiped out, and he being the man with the skill to dispatch the enemy always came through. It was afterwards that he asked the questions.

Why did he kill?

Did he have to kill?

Why did he like it?

James shook his head and sighed, "I did not want to kill and I didn't enjoy it."

And that was that. Years of killing and he finally realized that he was not a sadistic psychotic. The days where he longed to kill Jem'Hadar and Borg for revenge were long gone, paid in full by the mountains of bodies he left behind. He now regretted killing each and every one of the people that met him in combat. A man with no regrets for the lives he took, no remorse for the families he ruined would be classified as a murderer.

"I'm not a murderer. A killer... a soldier perhaps, but not a murderer. As little as it does to relieve my guilt, I'm glad to know I'm not a bloodthirsty psychotic... ok... I'm not the latter, but at least I don't... I'm not... that..."

Minutes later, James was walking down the same black path, thinking, "Then what's to become of me? I realize there is nothing else for me but to keep on fighting. To prove my point, if the Federation's in a war I would probably be shipped to the USS Beachhead or the Long Island... one of those frontline vessels. I guess I'm just a hawk... like Brhode said and like my dad tried to instill in me. I'm a damn hawk, and I can't change that as long as there's something out there threatening the peace and freedom of the Federation."

"Maybe Rebecca was right. Everyone has a destiny and hers is to become the worst nightmare of all the enemies of the Federation. Maybe... maybe I'm like her. I'm supposed to be a fighter just like her, and I'm somehow going to be dragged back into the fighting."

"Then again, what does it matter? I might be dead and wandering in the dark for all eternity may be my penance in hell. If Rebecca isn't dead, she'll go on to her destiny as a killer. Lysander will continue his destiny as a spoiled rich brat, and Lexa will be in whatever heaven's in store for her while I wander hell for the rest of my eternal rest... which is forever so I just contradicted what I last said. Rest of my eternal rest... where do I come up with such moronic banter? Oh well... where was I? Rebecca the killing machine, Lysander the lecherous fool, Lexa my angel... Brhode will still be the @$$hole he is... and here I am... dead as far as I know... dying by the sword as per the stipulations in the pre-arranged agreement between me and whatever celestial deities are running my life."

"Well..... I'm glad to be of service. My life as a slayer... comes to and end, and my afterlife of eternal wandering starts here. Let me know when I get to be re-incarnated, ok God? Greatly appreciate it!"

Lieutenant Corgan sighed, and in regards to his new prison he moaned and shivered as a chill wind picked up and gusted through his uniform, "It's so cold and barren out here. I wish I wasn't alone. I wish Lexa was with me. She could always cheer me up."

Perhaps by sheer coincidence, by making a request to the unseen deities surrounding him, or it could be a piece of divine and cruel comedy, James saw someone a fair distance away. He had a hard time seeing the person, but he could tell it was a abnormally tall female in a Starfleet uniform. She was covered head to foot in black save for the patch of grey and red on her shoulders and neck, and even her head was obscured by a mop of wavy black hair.

Darkness made distinguishing the person difficult, but there was no mistaking the face of Lieutenant Electra Reece when James Corgan saw her. The same brown eyes, shining with boundless intelligence, stared back at him for a second more, the fight seemingly drained out of them.

"Lex..." James uttered softly, not loud enough for her spirit... ghost... whatever it was staring back at him to hear him. He yelled louder, "Lex?"

There was still no response. The life was drained out of her after a vividly intense dance by some unseen force. She looked tired, ready to collapse and call surrender to whatever she was fighting. But seeing James appear, at least to Corgan's eyes, brought out a glimmer of her old spirit. She faced many demons before, claustrophobia, rape, self doubt, they alone could not crush her indomitable soul. Whatever it was that assaulted her was not going to stop her fighting.

Her mind was willing to fight, but it being so exhausted did not obey her commands. She could only fight so much before she gave into the afterlife's siren call.

"Lex! I'm coming!" James stridden forward, gaining momentum with each step. Dream or afterlife, he was not going to abandon the only true love left in his dying world.

A light burst open in the middle of the darkness, a light so brilliant and beautiful it rivaled the Bajoran wormhole. It split open like a great fissure, bringing blinding flashes into a world of darkness, sending its light through all corners of area of the damned. Soon, there was no darkness, not even behind James in whatever great beyond laid ahead. There was only light, and a white hot intense opening in the middle of it all.

"The light at the end of the tunnel? Is this the tunnel I heard so much about?" James looked up at the collage of multi colored bright hues, "This is pretty much what I was anticipating..."

Anticipation did not predict what was happening next. He felt a tugging pull from his uniform jacket, pulling him towards the light at the tunnel. It was at first as weak as a ten year old child pulling playfully at his pantleg, but it soon grew in intensity, then felt like a tractor beam was locked onto his entire body and was trying to pull him free from the ground, but his feet seemed to be locked in place by sheer will alone. The light, the rumored tunnel to whatever paradise laid ahead for the dead was hungry for his soul to consume. James wanted to play it cautious. He didn't want to go in, not until he was able to speak with Lexa.

"LEX?!?" James called out. The pull was turning into a turbulant windstorm, sucking him towards the tunnel. He braced himself on the transparent ground, holding himself firm.

Lieutenant Reece, wordless in her defiance, stayed on the ground. Her long hair whipped in the breeze, coming inches away from the tunnel. Her grip on the invisible ground was coming loose, threatening to crumble apart all around her and leave her flailing in the air as the tunnel of life's hungry maw threatened to eat her up. The determination in her eyes broke through her exhaustion, and so she held on.

"LEXA!!!" James yelled through the deafening wind, "I'M COMING FOR YOU!!!"

He was cut short by a brilliant explosion. The imploding light tunnel went off with a pop, turning itself inward then bursting out like a spewing supernova. Light and sound rang in his ear, as he felt his whole world come back into his brain. He was propelled away from the tunnel at light speeds, flying into dimmer areas of his dream, until finally the tunnel of light became a distant glimmer of light.

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

The doctors and nurses attending to James were not prepared to see him shoot out of bed, screaming in panic. The attending sickbay staff shot back, surprised to see Lieutenant Corgan wake up from his rest. One doctor dropped a tray of instruments in his surprise, and the tricorders, hyposprays and cortical stimulators hit the floor with a clatter.

Breathing heavily, panting for air and staring around to see what was going on, James Corgan was surprised to see that he was in sickbay.

"Dammit... I'm not dead." He frowned. The dream, so real and intense as it was, gave Corgan the impression that he was dead and that he was going to whatever the afterlife had in store for him.

What perplexed him was why he resisted. He had his on and off moods where he wanted to die, but he never thought he would resist it as perfervidly as he did in his dream. There was something odd in the dream. The symbolism with the scythe and the phaser, his uniform, the long walk in the middle of nowhere and the light at the end of the tunnel. What did it mean and what was he supposed to take from it all?

So much was obvious. He was a warrior and death was part of his life, as shown by the scythe and the phaser. His duties to the Federation were also important so he understood the uniform. And the light at the end of the tunnel... he could have been searching for something, but after not liking what was in store he decided to resist it. As for his thinking during the trek? Something he needed to do. He had a lot of issues to sort out and not much time.

But what was Lexa doing there? He missed Lexa, but her presence was bizarre and he couldn't explain it.

"What kind of dream was that?" James wondered, blinking his sore eyes once to clear his vision.

Then he heard sarcastic familiar voice "Dream, you say? Nice dream... I couldn't wish anybody such a dream... Even to you,sir."

To his relief, Dr. Malgin was there to administer to Lieutenant Corgan. The doctor was as exhausted as James, being one of the many that was taken to the planet and one of the few who was part of Corgan's Tribe. Unruly, testy and always questioning orders, nonetheless James found Malgin an invaluable teammate, and he wished the doctor and him were on more friendly terms. But judging by the doctor's constant grumblings James could tell Vladimir was not in the mood to make friends.

"So, mister, you are getting even more troubles than me. So... What do you had at the moment? Nothing good. One rib... broken. Many others cracked. I can bet you breathe not very easily. Plus you had two internal bleedings, bruised organs, twisted ankle, uncountable cuts and slash wounds... And special bonus from 'Hirogen&sons' company - broken jaw and three missing molars on the right side of the face. But you are very lucky that we healed that all while you sleeping... For twenty hours", Vladimir sighed, seeing James wanting to ask something and raised hand, "I haven't yet finished! You lost a lot of blood... Remember that anti-coagulant, that Hirogens used on Solta? Probably this caused you huge blood loss... We had to do a blood transfusion and use a cortical stimulator on you. I will repeat - you're lucky! Very lucky!"

"That bad doc?" James groaned, massaging a sore area on his neck.

"Yes, that bad! I think I also should say some words concerning your eye... That Hirogen has left a cleanly cut scar. Not very deep, but anti-coagulant made healing difficult - that scar becale bigger and bleeded almost constantly... But you are triple lucky that I am so good surgeon." Vladimir said, allowing himself a smile.

James felt the area around his eye. He felt a smooth scar, and as he traced it, he found that it started at his forehead, disappearing inside a covering of blonde hair. He felt the scar past his eye, and down to his cheek. Lieutenant Corgan snatched up a mirror to look at his face, and the scar was there, visible by a thin pink line running down from forehead to cheek.

"Its actually quite handsome." James failed at an attempt at humor in such a grim situation, "Thanks Dr. Malgin. I'm glad it was you treating me and not some witch doctor you guys pulled out at random around here."

"I know that I am the best surgeon in this place... Thanks for compliment."

"Again... thanks doc." James concluded, "By the way... did you see a Lieutenant Reece here?"

"No, but I can check around. Why?" Malgin asked.

"I need to know what happened to her." James replied urgently, "I have to know, doctor. God... if those bastards did anything to her... I swear I'll commit genocide on the whole lot of them... but I have to find out what happened to her. I also have to find some friends... maybe a Commander Von Ernst and Lieutenant Commander Hawksley. See them?"

"No... I did not see any of them."

"Christ... I have to find them. I hope they're ok... COMPUTER! Tell me the location of Lieutenant Electra Reece. Please... this is important!"

"Hey! I do not see how rushing the computer will aid in your search..."

If Dr. Malgin that what he was saying was actually false, he would look in amazement as Gabrielle, the computer subconscience, awakened and let fly her amazing search skills. In a matter of seconds, Electra Reece was located.

=/\="Lieutenant Reece is located on Deck 5, section 22."=/\= The computer replied, elating Corgan's downtrodden spirit to new heights. She's ok! The blast didn't kill her! The Hirogen didn't kill her! I have to get to her... tell her I'm ok... make sure she's ok! I have to get out of here!

"Alright! Thanks computer!" He gladly gave the computer an invisible pat on the back, turning to Dr. Malgin, "Am I released?"

=/\="Lieutenant Reece is not on board this ship!"=/\= The computer called out.

The pit in James stomach was slowly starting to sink, dragging the rest of his hopes with him.

=/\="Lieutenant Reece located. Deck 5, section 22."=/\=

"Ummmm... doc? What is causing this?" James voice filled with dread.

"As I know, the internal scanners read lifesignes. I don't want to say this but the only reason for these swithces between detect and not detect are fading lifesignes... It means... death..."

"The dream..." James trailed off in a whisper. "The light at the end of the tunnel... and her with me. Was I really dead? They would only use a cortical stimulator on me if I was close to death... so was I really there? Lexa was with me. Electra... she was there!"

"No... this isn't happening..." James wished for the bad news to go away, "No... I can't lose her now! Not now!!!!!"

"Malgin! We have to get her... right now!" Lieutenant Corgan ordered forcefully, "That's my girlfriend out there and I'll be damned if I leave her out there to die! You're going to help me and that's final! Now come with me, that's an order!"

~I HATE HIS ORDERS! But when life is the bet...~ thought Vladimir, then nodded as they bolted out of sickbay in a race against the clock to save Lieutenant Reece's life.

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

Lexa floated in the darkness that had claimed her mind for eternity. Unaware of the passage of time, her consciousness, that spark that was Electra Reece danced on the edges of the abyss. Anyone who could see the mental picture of this spark (which was no one since no one was looking) saw a child of eight or nine, short in the natural way children are short, with long dark hair, and a strangely mature face.

The child ran and played on the edge of the Grand Canyon of Eternity. She was fearless. She was wild. She was energetic. She was tiring. Each time she approached the precipice, she came closer to it. Each time she danced away with a little less enthusiasm.

That non-watcher would be holding their breath each time the spark neared the side for fear of the inevitable. And inevitable it was. Death is always inevitable. No one lives forever. And this spark, its body unconscious for days, badly injured, and dehydrated to dangerous levels, was approaching the point of no return.

And then the observer-who-wasn't-there would cry out as the small form took a final running leap and soared into the darkness, falling, falling, falling. Running to the edge the ever-absent-watcher could see the spark getting swallowed by the omnipresent, over-powering darkness. If they tapped into the remaining bits of Lexa Reece as she fell into death, they would hear two voices, young-sounding but comforting, and a feeling of warmth and love, as they welcomed her, their long lost child, to their embrace. This voyeur would witness the love and happiness that the spark felt as she knew she was not alone.

Then, a harsh interjection from the outside, curses, pain, and the spark was rising from the darkness, struggling to return, unable to. The struggle to return to her parents, to the feeling of total peace that had embraced her, foiled by the outside influence of the harsh man who wanted her alive.

Finally, breaking free of the grip that reality had on her, she turned back towards the abyss only to find it gone. The spark floated, lost, not in the eternal darkness, but in the fog of grayness that is in between. There was no ground beneath her feet, no walls to the side, no ceiling above. She bobbed, unable to move of her own volition in the vacuum, terrified and alone.

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

In the real world, Electra was literally a starship wreck. She was covered head to foot along the right side of her body with plasma burns from the Ops console exploding in front of her face. There were second and third degree burns everywhere, corpuscles of white blisters intermixed with charred, flaking bits of flesh and exposed red skin. Her face, the center of her beauty, was now a disfigured, almost unrecognizable roadmap of pain, with shrapnal bits punched into her burned flesh. Her uniform was scorched, parting from the burned areas in a melted and pock marked ruin of what was once cloth. Her communicator badge was melted and charred by the split second of intense heat, and most likely inoperable by the concussion of the explosion. Even her two Lieutenant pips didn't escape damage. They were left on the floor, fusing liquefied and then cooled brass with melted polyester.

Another jolt from the cortical stimulator jerked her entire body, sending tiny rivulets of electricity through her brain, stimulating the body and keeping higher brain functions from fading out into non existence.

"Cortizine! It is marked with blue vial. Slap one into hypospray and inject her in the neck! Right now!" Dr. Vladimir Malgin ordered seriously, tapping the command button on his tricorder and sending another jolt of electricity through Electra's weakened body.

"I'm on it! Just keep her alive dammit!" James slipped a medicine cartridge in his hypospray and injected her plasma scorched neck with life saving medication.

"Don't you see, that I am working on that right now!"

"Well keep up the f**king work!" Nearly to tears, James begged, "We have to keep her alive. We have to!"

The tricorder's heart monitor beeped faster, speeding up to a normal heartbeat pace. The higher brain functions were being restored, giving Lexa a semblance of life in the inside of her body that her damaged outside lacked.

Life was coming back to her body, much to the relief of Dr. Malgin and Lieutenant Corgan. James wanted to hug her and shed a tear, happy to bring her back to life, but he had a feeling there was something wrong. Her lifesigns were back to normal, but something else was not. She was breathing, but her eyes did not move. Her body laid prone, not responding to whatever she might have commanded.

"Doctor? What's happening? Isn't she... alive?"

Vladimir looked at the Tricorder then raised his head and said "She is alive and I am already happy at this. She will need reconstructive surgery on the burned portions of her body... About... One third of her body is burned... And coma. I don't know whether she will awake or not."

"No... please..." James begged. Her coma was almost as bad of news as death itself. She was alive, but the body entrapped a soul, not allowing her personality to be free within the flesh's mortal confines. A coma was life, living, breathing, and even taking in air and nutrients and excreting waste, but at the same time it was death, where a person didn't move, didn't speak, and wasted away in a limbo unseen by anyone else, except through the victim's closed and soulless eyes.

James knew what was coming to her.

He remembered the darkness all too well.

~"Oh no... the darkness. I trapped her there..."~

A single teardrop, made completely of blood, welled up in James' eye and splattered on her serene, untouched cheek.

"I'm sorry... Lex. I'm so sorry..." He cried, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you..."

"Personal logs..."

Lt Cmdr Michael O'Grady
Chief counselor

While Rayna napped Mike woke and studied his wife's sleeping form..

The artificial light spilled over her golden hair and gave sort of an etherial haloish glow. Softly he ran his hand along her face and was rewarded with a soft hmm. Then he got up and put on a robe.

Seated at a small desk he was working on decoration recommendations and he flipped on a recordign device.

"Chief counselor's personal log. Ahh hell I can't figure out these dates to save my life. Well, we're back home, the Hirogen have been eliminated and the USS Galaxy has been held at the cost of a few hundred ordinary lives. I have heard some grumbling about how Captain Bhrodie handled the Hirogen situation, but the way I see it there was no choice, and going nuts and fighting hand to hand with creatures that are faster, stronger and more lethal then we could ever hope to be.

Of course I'm not a soldier, don't wanna be one, but that was the philosophy that our new captain seems to be wed on and I guess I have to learn if I'm going to be effective at my new job. Hopefully the conflict level will be much less.

Now I have to begin Critical Incident Stress Debriefings for the entire crew, starting at the top. Counseling's work is never done."

"Time to worry about a friend, part one"

By
Alia
Shinta

Shinta tossed on the hospital bed. She still wasn't feeling very well, and was plagued by feverish nightmares. Right now she was awake, and worried. She again remembered that angry words between Brian and Alia, and Alia one of her best friends had not yet come to enquire how she was.

That made her think back to a couple of conversations she and her friend had had the last couple weeks. The first one just a day before the Hirogen attack began.

Speeding along the corridor, tapping her music sheets against her leg, Alia reached Shinta's quarters and pressed the chime. She shouldn't be here, it was ridiculous...You are being ridiculous, Drakely! She firmly told herself as she entered Shinta's rooms at her call.

Her eyes found Shinta, "Hi, I'm sorry to bother you without warning." She said apologetically.

"No problem." Shinta said. "You know that you are always welcome. "In fact she Was glad for the intrusion. she had not slept well, in fact since Thomas had left, the nightmares had got worse again, and right now she had very little people she could confide in. But Alia's problems came first. "Out with it! And I will get us something to drink."

She perched on the edge of a chair and waited for Shinta to join her. "What..." She paused. Now she was here, she wasn't so sure about it, "What's Eric like? I mean *really* like."

Shinta paused for a moment. Handing Alia her drink. "I am actually on shaky ground here, Alia. You see Eric is also my patient, he started out as a patient, and He is a friend too now. But I still treat him. I am sure that you heard all the stories about him?

Alia nodded, "Yes, I have heard some, but I don't know how reliable they are."

"Some of them are true, they were the reason that he became my patient. But I truly believe he has changed, and he also had a lot of bad luck with women. But it is my opinion as a friend, that he is looking for a woman to start a stable relation ship with. And that he is very fond of you. And there is no doubt in my mind that he is a very good friend, and a very good person. May I ask how you feel about him?"

A faint smile passed over Alia's features. "That's a good question." Alia replied softly. "I like him, I like him a lot. But I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship yet. Not a real one. And I don't want to mess him around."

Shinta watched her friend carefully. " there is more behind this isn't there." She then said gently. "Can you talk about it?" Alia had that agitated look about her today.

Playing with the edges of the sheet music, Alia's gaze focussed on her hands. "I find...I can't trust people." She said quietly. "I can't bring myself to fully trust anyone. How can I have a relationship when I feel like that? It wouldn't be fair to him."

"First, you go slowly. This is obviously new to you. There is no need to rush. Second, you learn to trust again. Believe me, I had to do that. I had lost my trust in people too, but I have learned to trust my friends. I trust you." She smiled. "I think you are getting there, you have accepted Gavin and me as friends, and you have been very open to me, even though you loath counsellors."

Alia chuckled, "I don't loath them so much...I'm just...wary of them." She gave Shinta a smile as she moved over to sit next to her. "Anyway, enough about my boring life. How are you doing? It must be hard now Commander Thomas is gone, I know you were relying on him for support." She said gently.

"I don't mind talking about you, I do not think that you are boring. And you are changing the subject, that is something you should not do around a counselor." Shinta gave her a stern look. That she did not want to talk about herself, had nothing to do with that, absolutely not.

"What? Like you just did then you mean?" Alia replied with a friendly smile.

"that is not fair." Shinta said with a laugh. "You did it first. But seriously alia. giver it a try with Eric. Don't expect miracles, but don't turn him down because you are afraid to commit. Just give it time, and make that very clear to him."

Alia gave her a faint assenting nod, "I can't promise anything, but I can think about it." She said quietly. "Anyway, now that's me sorted out, I'd like to hear how you're doing."

"I am managing. It's hard, I have a couple of difficult patients at the moment. You will understand that I cannot talk about that." She sighed. "That combined with Chris Thomas leaving, it's a bit much. My nightmares are back."

"Your nightmares." Alia repeated, sighing slightly as she looked down. She knew just how difficult they could be to cope with. "Would it help if you talk about them?"

"No, I don't want to give you any more nightmares." She had watched Alia, and the other woman's expression told her that she was not the only one who had a difficult time at night.

"Shinta," she said softly, "the only thing out of this that would disturb my sleeping any more, is knowing that someone I care about needs the support of a friend right now, and I haven't given it. You said you can trust me. You're right, you can. Please, let me help you. Talk to me, tell me what it is that haunts you at night." Alia said in the softest of voices as she reached up to push a stray piece of hair away from Shinta's face and then dropped her arm to take Shinta's hand in her own.

Shinta managed a weak smile. "Look who is talking. You have never told me your problems, that bothers me,. I am the counselor. I am not blind, I can see that you are having problems, and I can do nothing to help you. Maybe I should go back to Killing people for a living. At least I know I am a good at that.

Alia's eyes widened, "No!" She said firmly. "No, don't say that! Never say that!" Alia said desperately. She quickly took hold of Shinta's other hand, trying to think about what to say after unintentionally hurting her friend. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Shinta, you are one of my most valuable friends. The opinion that you hold of me means a lot to me. I haven't talked to you because...I...I don't want to see a look of disgust in your eyes when you look at me."

"that opinion would not change if you told me the truth. Believe me counsellors are the only ones that don't judge." She said bitter. "You are my friend, I like the person you are, and I don't judge. What ever it is you have done, you had a good reason at the time." Tears came in her eyes as she thought of her own past. "Seeing you in such pain hurts much more.

Alia carefully reached a hand up to gently brush the tears away with her thumb. "But what is a good reason, Shinta?" she sighed, shaking her head.

"One that keeps you alive. Never feel guilty for having done something that keeps you alive. You are a good person, I have faith in you. Your not like me." Shinta smiled through her tears.

Alia slipped an arm round her shoulders, "you're right, I'm not like you," She said gently, "And I have no hope of ever being like you, as I wish I were." And she said that truthfully, she did wish she was like Shinta. Shinta was a strong woman, with ideals...unlike myself, Alia thought to herself.

Shinta recoiled. "You don't know what you are saying. You don't want to be like me, believe me you don't. You are a good person. you don't know the things I have done in my past, to survive."

Alia put a hand on her friend's arm. "You said it right there, Shinta, whatever you did, you did it for survival. It hurts me to see you put yourself down like that, please let me help you. I can't do much, but I can listen. It might help ease the nightmares a bit."

Shinta shook her head. "No, I would rather not. But I would like to hear your story. Believe me, I will not judge." She tried to smile reassuringly. "You are so young, there is no need for you to suffer for the rest of your life."

Alia closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. If it would help Shinta talk about her past, then she could do this...right? When she opened her eyes, she moved carefully further away from Shinta and fixed her gaze upon the table. After a pause, which seemed to drag on forever for Alia she quietly began to explain. Her tones were tight and explanatory, as if she were reporting.

"After I left home, I had to find work, something that would get me well away from Earth. Before long, a man approached me, offered me a job. And just like that I trusted him." She shook her head. "You'd think after what happened at home, I wouldn't be so foolish as to trust someone so readily again, but I did...just like that."

Alia started to rub the palms of her hands nervously together. This wasn't getting any easier. But she put every ounce of energy into keeping calm - she refused to start crying in front of Shinta, it was the one thing she really wouldn't be able to cope with. She told herself to keep going,

"At first, it was just easy work, assisting in raids and the like. But then, he decided he wanted more from me...in a physical sense. It wasn't long before he started...selling me, for lack of a better term, to his acquaintances, or as part of a deal to placate some dealer or other." It was at that point that the tears were having trouble staying back. She refused to look at Shinta and every instinct was telling her to leave.

Little one." Shinta gently took her in her arms. "How you must have suffered. Its a miracle that you ever started trusting people again. How did you get out eventually?"

Alia managed to relax in her arms and laid her head down on Shinta's shoulder. "My friend, Jonathan. Although I used a fake name, he managed to track me down after turning in a lot of favours. It took three and a half years, but he finally came. And Jonathan quite literally bought me off of my employer." A tear slipped down her cheek, making her curse and she lifted a slightly trembling hand to wipe it away.

Shinta gently stroked her friends hair, trying to calm her again. " what happened after that?" She went on gently.

"Jonathan got me back on track. Got me off the drink. He only ever once asked what happened, and I told him. It took me a week to persuade him not to go after my employer. We never talked about it after that. It was Jonathan who persuaded me to apply to Starfleet. He knew I needed something new in my life, and it was a way I wouldn't have to worry about taking care of myself, financially I mean." Alia replied softly.

"are you two still in contact?" Shinta asked, curious about this special man. "He must be very proud of you."

Alia smiled then. "Yes, we're still in contact. Not as much as I'd like, but we are. He keeps me updated on things going on at home." She said with a somewhat rueful smile.

"I am glad to hear that." The older woman said. "How are you feeling right now, my dear?"

Alia let out a nervous chuckle. "Not so well. But I'm okay." She reassured. "Thank you for listening. I..." She paused and closed her eyes, "I'll understand if...if you...don't want...don't want me to come round anymore, or see me, or carry on with Gavin's music lessons."

"Why wouldn't I want that?" She said still holding Alias hand. "You are my friend, you are special to me. This doesn't change a thing. Or maybe it does, it makes you more special for surviving."

"But what for, Shinta? What for?" Alia shook her head. "So he'd leave me alone? To avoid his fist? What kind of reason is that Shinta? I was a cheap whore. I fell into an acceptance. And it almost broke Jonathan's heart."

"You were not a cheap whore!" Her voice was sharp." listen to me, you did what you had to survive." She suddenly thought back on the very hard therapy session with James Mitchell. For weeks now she was trying to forget what happened there, denying it. "You are not the only one." She whispered.

Alia searched Shinta's features. "What do you mean, Shinta?"

"you are not the only one who slept with men for gain. It is not easy for me to talk about this, my past is not that pretty. I understand what you did,

and I don't judge you, I rarely judge people. You are my friend, you are very welcome here, and as a friend I love you without condition. But I believe you came for Gavins music lesson?" She said cheerfully.

"It can wait Shinta." Alia said seriously. "You're suffering from nightmares." She ran a fingertip lightly over a dark circle under Shinta's eye. "Please, let me help. Tell me about them."

"andree has given me something for the nightmares. And I am thinking of talking to a Shrink. I have somebody in mind. This is hard for me, I honestly don't know what to think about myself anymore." She noticed her hands trembling slightly again. "I thought I left all this behind me."

"And it just comes and catches you off guard, just like that. Right?" Alia put an arm round Shinta's shoulders and said gently. "Do you think it's because of Commander Thomas leaving? That's it's shaken you up?" She paused a moment before taking hold of Shinta's trembling hands and addding. "And I know I'm not I'm not a counselor, but I'm here if you want to talk. I'lll listen, and by the sounds of it, I might just understand as well."

Then suddenly Shinta told her the whole story, like she had told James a few weeks ago. How she hated herself for the work she had had to do. Sleeping for information, the rapes, the torture, and worst of all the scorn of those she had done it for. "I dream about it again, almost every night. I feel so dirty." She stared straight ahead.

Alia shook her head slightly in disbelief. Lifting her hand, she stroked Shinta's hair and gently leant over and planted a kiss on her forehead, "I'm so sorry, Shinta." She said gently. "You didn't deserve any of that."

"I don't know. Lately there is a lot I don't know." She smiled sadly, Shinta could not tell Alia about James. "Maybe I was a deluded dirty whore after all."

"Don't say that. Never say that." Alia said firmly, pulling her into an embrace. "It's not true. You had a cause, Shinta. You had a cause."

"yes, I had. But nobody seems to agree with me." She wiped away her tears. "But enough of me feeling sorry for myself." it felt safe in Alias arms, and she felt like she never wanted to leave.

Alia drew her even closer and rested her head on Shinta's. "I agree with you. You did what you had to. You went through hell, Shinta, and it was all for others. Shinta, there are two people in my life that I look up to. Jonathan is one, and you are the other." She said softly.

"That is so sweet of you to say." Shinta felt a little bit better. "But I am sure that there must be better role models for you out there."

"No." Alia said softly, "I don't think there are. And I mean that Shinta. You have done so much for me Shinta when others wouldn't even give me a sacond glance. You're one of the strongest people I know. I strive for that strength. You have given me a second chance of feeling that I belong to a family. And I am more grateful for that than I could possibly explain."

That was enough for Shinta. "Thank you." She said. "It means a lot to me, to hear you say that. You and I are survivors. I am sure we can help each other. It will take time, but we will get there."

"Sure." Alia said with a smile. Only she wasn't so sure. Shinta could, she was already half way there, but there was one vital difference between them in Alia's opinion - and that was 'the cause'.

Shinta saw that Alia didn't look too happy. "What's the matter?" She asked gently.

"It's stupid really..." Alia tried to dodge the question, but realised that was a waste of time. She looked down and started to explain slowly, as if it were as much to herself as Shinta. "You did waht you did because you knew -other- lives depended on it. I did what I did because I knew -my- life depended on it. There's a big difference. I did it for nothing."

"you call your life nothing?" Her friend asked. "Let me tell you, that is the most important thing in the world, and it is worth preserving. That is exactly what you did, you survived, you got out of there, and you are making something of your life now. Be proud of that. I know that I am immensely proud of you, you do have a deep strength inside, if you realize it or not.

Alia smiled genuinly at the praise from her friend. It meant a lot. "Thank you, Shinta, your saying that means a hell of a lot to me."

"I hope so. And I hope it will help you in to internalyse the feeling that you are not worthless, and that you are a hell of a woman. You will go far, Alia, I can tell." Shinta smiled.

"Then it must be true Shinta." Alia said with a warm laugh. "Thank you for listening to me go on, I'm sorry for taking this out on you."

"Don't say that. You need to talk about it, like I need to talk about it. I need to talk about it with friends, but also with a professional. I am going to seek a new counselor. I know how you think about that, but please give it some thought. You now know that we're not all monsters, and some of my colleagues here on board are very nice."

She looked down. "Actually, I've talked a bit with Brian. He was there one night when I couldn't sleep, and it all kind of just...spilled out. A bit like today really. You don't mind do you? That I went to him? Like I explained earlier, you've become a close friend to me, I was scared to tell you incase you didn't want to know me anymore. Brian was safe - I'd never met him before."

Shinta beamed at her. "Mind? I am delighted, such a big step for you, well done." She grinned. "I try not to mix work and my friends, but in a small community it is difficult. Eric and I only became friends after I started treating him. I actually met my husband the same way.. But I am glad that you are seeing Brian, and he is able to help you."

"He does," Alia smiled, happy that she hadn't offended Shinta, "he's great. Both of you are. You've done so much for me, is there anything I can do to thank you?"

"Just to continue being the same great friend you have been to Gavin and me for the last couple of months. That's repayment enough."

Alia smiled and blushed a little, a rare sight. "Gavin's getting on very well in his music lessons, I think he's a natural."

Shinta rolled her eyes. "To me it is still a lot of noise. But he is doing better and I think that is more due to the music then to therapy. And I am gratefull for it."

"It's the least I can do. And I enjoy it just as much as he does." Alia assured with a smile.

At that moment Gavin came running into the room. "Alia! Are we going to play! we had best go to your room then." He giggled as he looked at his mother.

A grin broke out on Alia's features as she jumped up and moved over to him, dropping to one knee to be level with him. "Hello my little Lord!" She put a hand on his shoulder, "I think you could be right about going back to my place. I've already spent enough of your mother's time." She said with a smile. Standing, her hand still on his shoulder, she turned to look at Shinta, "If there's no objections of course."

"None. Take your noise out of here." Shinta smiled and hugged her son and her friend. "I will have dinner ready when you to return. Go and have fun."

***

Alia had seemed alright then, she was seeing Brian and that worked out. But then the attack again, and that changed everything.

"Time to worry about a friend, part two"

By
Alia
Shinta

But then during the attack, there had been another moment when Shinta worried about her friend. Right before the end, before the dreadful attack in engineering.

***

When they finally had a quiet moment, Shinta took Alia aside. "How Are you doing?" She asked. Shinta Was still a little bit concerned for her friend.

"Oh...I'm fine." Alia said dismissively. She then rested a hand on her friend's shoulder and gave her a slightly concerned smile. "But how are -you- doing?" She asked, realising she must be worried out of her mmind about her children.

"I am.... "it was so easy to say fine. But she stopped herself. "I feel different, more like I used to when I was a girl. There is a rage inside of me, and it scares me. I am worried about my children, but that is natural."

Alia put a hand on Shinta's arm for the briefest of moments before letting it drop again. "Hey, remember what you said earlier? Stay human? We also have Brian here now, no doubt he'll be keeping checks on all of us, so you just concentrate on you, my friend." She said with a smile.

"Yes" Shinta said. "It is difficult for me, I don't want to appear weak in front of Brian, I know it sounds silly. Alia, part of me is afraid. Afraid of what will happen if I let myself go after all these years. Yet to retake the ship I am going to have to kill."

Alia put a hand up to take hold of the side of Shinta's face. "Shinta, you can control this. You're a strong woman. I'm here for you." She said, meeting her eyes before letting her hand drop again.

"thank you." Shinta said then she looked at Alia. "Alia, about the way you handled Mike earlier. You should be careful there, he is a superior officer. Yet you are the only security officer we have. Do you feel that you should be in charge?" She wanted to discuss that with her friend, because later on the chain of command should be clear.

"No." Alia said firmly and without hesitation. "You're all far more experienced than me." She turned away slightly, a hand going up to her neck to absently massage. "I didn't deliberately plan my actions to ignore his command, I honestly didn't. I just sort of...went on autopilot. I saw he was hurt, I knew it needed treating, that was all that mattered....no, that was all that -occurred- to me at that moment." She gave Shinta an apologetic glance. "Just...tell me what to do, and I'll do it." She added simply.

"If you are sure. Fine, then we will go with that." She looked at Alia closely. "Are you really fine? I would prefer knowing, instead of guessing."

Alia changed completely, the concern and warm air she had used a mere moment before disapered and was replaced by an emotionless expression. "If you're anxious that I'm not going to make it through this, then there's no need for your worry. I can and will do what ever neccessary to get us through." Alia replied with a voice as emotionless as her expression.

" stop it!" Shinta said. "We spent this whole conversation talking about me, and I confessed my fears. You know I believe in you, but this is hard on everybody. You know I am afraid of losing control, if there is something bothering you, I want to know. Because I am your friend, not just a superior officer. Don't you dare shut me out." It was said with feeling.

Alia turned away and rested a hand high up on the wall and the other on her hip. When she spoke, it was still with an almost blank tone. "An old acquaintance of mine once told me I was far too emotional for my own good, and that one day it would get me killed. Quite frankly, I don't care if it does kill me any more." Her voice softened a moment and turned back to look at her. "I'm so tired, you know? I just don't care anymore." But then her voice hardened and returned to it's detached coolness. "But I shan't allow for anything to happen to you or Brian. And so, I do as he told me to all those years ago." Yeah, still doing what he tells you...you're pathetic Drakely, a part of her mind was telling her, but she expertly ignored it.

"you are sending had mixed signals. And that is not good. You are not happy being this cold, I can see it in your face, the tone of your voice. And if you are not happy, it's not going to work. It's going to be a liability." She took her friends by the shoulders. "Be yourself, be true to yourself. That is the only thing that will work. don't listen to others if you feel in your guts that they are wrong. Follow your heart, because I know it's a beautiful one." Shinta smiled, and pressed her hand against her friends heart for a second.

Alia couldn't quite believe what Shinta had said. A small, warm smile crept across her features as she looked into Shinta's eyes and placed her own hand over Shinta's as it laid over her heart. "I...I apologise." She said softly. "I was only doing what I thought was best for you and Brian."

"you know, there is a saying that counsellors use a lot, but it is true. If you do not do what is right for you, you cannot help others. So be true to yourself, and in doing that you will help us." She smiled. "Now will you tell me how you feel?"

Alia let their hands drop and she dropped down to a sitting position, her back leaning against the bulkhead and shut her eyes. "I'm just so...tired." She repeated, it was the only way she could think of putting it. "Not just physically but...I've reached a point where as long as you and Brian are safe, I don't care what happens to me...they could come along and throw me out an airlock for all I care and I wouldn't struggle. It just feels like I've been struggling forever."

This had Shinta worried. She didn't think that Alia would actively try to kill herself, but in a situation of war, it was very easy to get yourself killed. She sat down next to her friend. "You have gone through a lot lately. You have opened up old wounds, and talked about your pain for the first time in years. That makes you tired, I understand that, I have been where you are. If it weren't for Bruce and the children, I am not sure that I wouldn't be there now." She said honestly. "But from here on it can only get better. You have people around you who care about you, accept you for who you are. And you can work through the old grief. Try to hang in there just a little longer. Alia, I want you to promise me two things. First you will talk to Brian as soon as possible. And second you are going to take care of yourself,not going to watch out for only Brian and me, but yourself as well. I want your word on that." She finished seriously.

Alia was silent. She looked away and rested her head on her knees, closing her eyes. "I promise I'll do my best for you." She said carefully with a quiet voice without looking up.

The counsellor had been here before, with suicidal patients, and privately. She knew that this was not a real promise. Alia's heart was not in it, and she would not try hard enough. "Alia, you have to want it." She lifted her friends chin. I can't lose you. I am on the edge myself, and if I lose you, I go down too. I know I am not being fair to you, but I am not your counsellor. I'm begging you as a friend. Look me in the eye, and promise me, please." Shinta was close to tears herself now.

Alia slowly found Shinta's eyes and looked at her for a long moment. The Drakely in her was screaming at her to get on her feet and do what was necessary - to do her duty. But then there was the Lia part of her. The part that just asked what the hell was the point anymore? But then she recalled Shinta's words. Shinta had asked her to - she couldn't say no. "I promise."

"I believe you." Shinta gave her arm another squeeze. "Any time it gets difficult, come to Brian or me. We will be there for you. Now what do you say, shall we move out?"

Alia let out a breath and ran her hands through her hair again. "Yes, Shinta. Let's go." She replied quietly.

***

Shinta had felt uneasy then, but pressed for time there was little she could do about it. And once they came to engineering, she had been so busy with their own three attackers, that she hadn't followed her friend. She knew alia was still alive, but time and again she heard the angry words in her mind, Brian and Alia fighting. It was not right, and it kept her from sleeping. She knew that she wanted to talk to both of her friends soon. And hoped they would come by soon, or that autumn would release her. Her colleagues would be working overtime now, and this was no time to lay in bed. Yet against her will her eyes closed, and she finally fell asleep.

“Finding peace of mind”
By Lt. (jg) Heather Grant-Wellington
Helmsman
USS Galaxy

The Hirogen disaster was over. All around her, people were examining the pieces of their lives as they all began the horrifying task of rebuilding their lives. Heather walked the long, curving corridors of Deck 3. After submitting her report, she was dismissed from the bridge and requested to report back at the beginning of her next shift refreshed. She was no telepath, nor empath, but Heather knew the general atmosphere of the ship was low on morale and felt eerie. There was a strong sense of slaughter, which made her feel pale.

In her quarters, alone except for her hungry cat, Heather failed to find any peace of mind. Now that the threat had been eliminated, she had time to reflect on the reality of it all. Taking a shower and changing into a lightweight nightie, she requested for some orchestral music at a low volume and had the replicator create a mug of warm milk with a touch of brandy. Curling up on the sofa under the windows, she attempted to continue reading the novel she had being trying to read since they departed the star base. In her lap, her grey cat Oceania snuggled herself up against Heather and dozed off, oblivious to the hell that engulfed them both.

Sipping from her mug, Heather began to experience recollection of the events she was walking away from. No matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts out of her mind, the stronger they became. She could remember the feelings she had when imprisoned by the Hirogen, the news that the Galaxy crew had performed a funeral based on the belief the shuttle crews were dead, the desperate need to send out a beacon, and the discovery of Ensign Taggart’s body in the Jeffries Tubes. Gazing out the windows, she tried to regain control of her thoughts, but her emotions set in along with the pain of reality.

Heather had survived without the need to take a Hirogen life and those close to her also survived. Yet, she felt a great sense of loss. All she did was follow her superior officer’s request for the helm crew to head to the Captain’s Yacht and tell Taggart she would meet him there. When she had found his body in the tubes, she did nothing but report it and move on, leaving the body alone again. At that stage, time was against her and the threat of the Hirogen finding her, very real. So, there was little else she could do for the fallen officer. In hindsight, Heather wished she could have done more but what, she still could not answer. Placing her left elbow on the top of the sofa, she placed her hand to her face and closed her eyes in hope of finding some form of peace of mind, which at that moment did not seek her out.

About a minute or two later, the door bell chimed. Heather opened her eyes and shifted on the sofa to look at the door.

“Come in.” she called.

The doors parted, revealing a casual Indiana on the other side.

“Up for a chat?” he asked sincerely, as he entered her quarters and the doors whoosed shut behind him.

“About what?”

Heather indicated for her friend to take a seat.

“Well, you seemed like you were isolating yourself when we were disembarking from the yacht. I just wanted to know if all was alright.” “Why shouldn’t it? We won. I was just deep in thought about what I was including in my report.”

Indiana sat down the opposite end of the sofa and looked at Heather with a look of ‘You could of fooled me’.

“How about now?”

Heather remained silent. With the emotions whirling around inside of like a cyclone, she was feeling overwhelmed and slightly confused.

“We lost one of the helmsmen. I…left him the tubes while making my way to the yacht. And now, I wish I had done something more for him.” “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps try and get the body out into a nearby corridor.” “But you didn’t have the time and the Hirogen would of gotten to you if did. Cat, it was the circumstances that stopped you, not you yourself.” Heather let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not that easy to accept, Indy. I mean, I left a fellow colleagues body behind then went on to be apart of a small gathering who help save the Galaxy. To me, the entire event was overwhelming and I frankly need time to deal with it.”

“You need to seek one of the counsellors.” Heather lowered the PADD in her hand and became frustrated. “No, I need some time to myself. I go on duty in six hours and I want to be able to go with a clear mind.” “Just promise me you won’t bottle up your emotions.”

Heather looked away, not sure if she could promise him. She was not moarning, but the emotions within were just as catastrophic. A small tear trickled down her cheek, as she bravely tried to hold back and act strong.

“We survived hell, Indy. Everywhere I look, I see people in a pain I don’t share with them and it makes me feel wrong. I was lucky not to have loss, while so many have had their lives shattered. Where is my right to happiness about surviving?”

“You were fortunate, but you once had experienced loss. An experience which may benefit someone out their. Don’t hide from the others because you survived with your life in tact.”

“No, I’m hiding my weakness. The only time I confronted a Hirogen was in that cell. Since then, I had managed to avoid thm and for that, I feel a coward. I hid from the enemy instead of facing up to them.”

“You did face up to them when you were down in Engineering Support and again when you were on the yacht. Cat, you defied them by avoiding them. By taking your stance on the yacht and you were part of the group who took out a Hirogen ship. You were anything but a coward back there.”

She sighed heavily again. “Then why do I feel this way?” Indiana expressed sympathy.

“Only you can find the answer to that. All I can say, is thank-you for your guidance in keeping alive. I personally believe you did great and I feel honoured to be one of those by your side.”

“I was no leader. I only passed on Gustavson’s orders.”

“True, but you did more than just pass on orders from above. You set the example of hope. Even when you threatened to shoot us as we entered the yacht, I believe Riana and Sara would agree, that by showing us that threat you showed us your willingness to protect us down there.”

“There was no way in hell those oversized reptiles were going for a joy flight.” She remarked sarcastically. “If they wanted me, then they had to jump around a hell of a lot of phaser fire. I was not willing to go down without a fight.”

“See? You were not avoiding them.”

She bowed her head and closed her eyes again. In a way, the Hirogen had caged her and she would never forgive them for doing so.

“They stormed her decks, hunting her crew and slaughtering those they caught. But the Galaxy’s heart was strong and her soul was definant.

Today, she lost some of her innocence, but tomorrow she will confront her demons and again succeed.” Indiana smiled.

“Perhaps you should of said that in your report.” Heather lifted her head and flashed her warm hazel eyes at him.

“No, that’s something a commanding officer should note. I am but a simple junior officer and a helmsman, who will later today take her place at the helm control and pilot this vessel to her new destination. Nothing more.”

“Then perhaps one day….”

“Perhaps. But not today, nor tomorrow. But perhaps one day I shall be.” She managed to smile.

"The Disruptor, Part Two"

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy

aka

Colonel Jarol
Tal'Shiar Officer

***Janaran Falls, Betazed, Ten Years Ago***

He came forward, and she couldn't think past the alcohol on his breath. He practically whispered in her ear. His voice was sing-song, like a child's. "Tsk, tsk, tsk ...did you think I was stupid Lizzie? Did you think I wouldn't know you were gone? I know everything, Lizzie, and don't you ever forget it. If you and your slut sister want to go whoring around, I'm going to know about it. You are mine, do you hear me? You owe me, you owe me for your mother, and now you're going to pay, you hear me?"

***Romulan warehouse***

"Tsk, tsk Colonel Jarol," the voice of a shadowy figure said as he appeared on the scene. He glanced over the four 'Romulans' as they stood there, helpless to react, or as Elaithin wanted to, fight back. "I suppose that's not really your name though, is it ... 'Colonel'? After all, Colonel Jarol was reported missing in action over a week ago."

"I think ... that it would be best if you and your associates came with me."

***

Kate was pushing past Karyn now, trying to get between her and the phase pistol. John caught the distraction and in the process of reacting, he dropped his glass, shattering glass and spreading amber liquid everywhere.

"Daddy, NO!" screamed Karyn. But it was too late. Just as Kate reached for the pistol, John caught Kate's wrist in his now empty hand, the pistol in the other hand and pointed squarely at Kate. In his rage he began to drag her into the house. "Get up!"

Kate fought her father's strong grip and managed to turn toward Karyn's grav-chair where she grabbed for the control, propelling Karyn inside even as John continued to rant and drag Kate by the arm.

Blinded by tears and her own sobs, Karyn can't bring herself to do anything. Her room is straight ahead and as she is pulled toward it in a whirlwind, she prays her father will let Kate go and turn his frustrations upon her. Her heart is pounding, and assaulted by the sounds of her sister fighting for control, it is sheer instinct which forces her eyes to open.

She is just inside her bedroom now and it is reflex which tells her what to do next. Turning to look behind her, she sees Dad dragging Katie toward the living room, and with one more determined look, Katie's wishes are clear. With one press of a button, Karyn is locked in her room for the duration.

The walls aren't thick enough to protect her from that which she knows she could not stop and as part of herself screams to be set free, another part of her knows her efforts won't be...

***

***Romulan prison cell***

....good enough. Kent is shaking the bars now, but Karyn knows there is no way out. He's smiling at her and all she can do is frown.

She's trapped, trapped in a nightmare that won't let her go. She tries to think...

***

....of happier times. She begins to hum a song Katie taught her, but it's not working. The noise is louder outside and for a moment she feels that she can say or do anything for once in her life, until...

***

.....CLANG!

"Stay where you are or you will be next." The Romulan warned. He then stepped aside while his accomplice tossed Elaithin Jii's unconscious body...

***

....into the bedroom, Kate's partially torn clothing following like an after thought. Karyn is completely paralyzed, like he'd beaten and assaulted them both. She doesn't even bother to look at him as she acknowledges that isn't exactly true. He liked making her feel guilty about being spared at random, she was his favorite after all.

No time to cry out or even to scream in anger, Karyn dropped to the ground, kneeling over her, tending to her and listening to her father speak if only as a distraction from the fact that Katie was bleeding to death.

He actually looked at her incredulously,"Is this some sort of...

***

"...a game with you? If you don't intend to extract information from us, then why are you holding us prisoner?" Peterson asked sharply.

The Senator smiled broadly. He really did look like a satanic son-of-a-bitch.

"Why as Federation spys of course. You see we know about your mission Commander Peterson, Commander Dallas, Lieutenant Commander Elaithin. You all were set up by elements within the Tal'Shiar organization. The *real* Tal'Shiar organization that is, in hopes of luring a Federation team and exposing operative on Romulus. The information you have been collecting, that was all fabricated. Bits and pieces of salvage the Romulan Empire had collected, but not for the reasons you were lead to believe."

"Why would you go to all that trouble to lure Federation Officers here under these false pretenses?" the Captain asked.

"Because Captain, captured Federation spys are not tolerated on Romulus. My people are, how do you say?, patriotic when it comes to such events. Since the Star Empire and Federation worked together to overthrow the Dominion alliance, the Romulan people will need more than a simple excuse as a motivator for severing relations with the Federation. Your capture as spys and saboteurs will be that motivator."

You bastard!" Kent lunged at the Senator. It took both the Captain and Counselor Dallas to help pull the Scientist away from the iron bars of the cell entrance.

"Help me tend to Lieutenant Commander Elaithin." Karyn suggested, ""He..."

***

"...needs our help. Gods, Daddy, what did you do to her? Why?" Her voice trailed off in a whisper as she frantically tried to stop the bleeding that seemed to come from everywhere. She had managed to stop most of it and had gotten her partially dressed by herself.

She looked to John Dallas then and he almost seemed filled with remorse for what he'd done. "I couldn't let you leave me, Lizzie. You and your sister are all I have...." With your mother gone, I need you Lizzie, I had to show you, What..."

***

.."...better than four Starfleet officers disguised as Romulans on the Romulan home world? Better still, a Romulan operative working for the Federation as well."

.. The two helmeted soldiers that carried Elaithin in earlier return, this time with the Romulan Tirol in their custody. The senator stops talking and moves aside Captain Price's eyes widened in horror. Tirol was their escape contact. Now that he had been captured as a Federation collaborator, there was no hope.

Karyn bit her lip silently as the guards...

***

....closed the door behind her. He hadn't tried to kiss her this time, something she would cite later as evidence that men like him weren't mentally ill, just sick bastards who deserved to feel ten times worse than he made her feel, if that was even possible.

Karyn couldn't stop herself from shivering. He always did that to her. Even when she was fully clothed, he made her feel as though she were naked in his eyes. Naked like Katie in front of her. Katie...

...was stirring, coming around. Karyn breathed a sigh of relief and began...

***

....shaking her. Someone was definitely shaking her. Over the past few hours, Karyn had existed in a fog, caught between her experiences in the Romulan prison cell and the bizzarre total recall of a beating she'd witnessed at home.

A never ending drama only she could see, the little things would set the memories in motion. Lee being punched, Kent being thrown across the cell. To escape reality, she tried to retreat into her memories, only to become trapped in another rollercoaster.

But someone was reaching for her, and she was startled, the sweat pouring down her back making her shiver.

It was Kent and...Katie? Katie was just beyond Kent in the corner (or was she?) looking very nervous.

Karyn wasn't sure who to look at, but fortunately, both were saying the same thing.

"We have to go, Karyn."

It had begun again.

****
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer
USS Galaxy

"Clean Conscience."
By

Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer

Commander Kent Peterson
Chief Science Officer

The temporary quarters that Kent had occupied since the Federation away team arrived on the Starship Prospero were adequate. They were not like those he had on the Galaxy as her chief science officer, but were more spartan, like those he occupied as the operations managed of the Yeager. They were large enough for the basic necessities - bed, desk, bathroom - but not large enough to be really 'lived in'. Maybe as he approached his mid-thirties he was simply settling down for the first time in his life.

He glanced over at the bottle that he and Jii had consumed the night before - it was gone, whatever the green liquid was - and he had a headache to prove it. Chances are she would make it out that he was once again not facing his emotions, turning to alchoholic beverages in the same way he had repressed his feelings about Wolf 359, blaming himself for the death of Kathryn Rogers.

Now that they were both due to return to the USS Galaxy - the news came from Captain Price and Vice-Admiral T'Paal - the question was how would this affect their professional relationship. Would Karyn be calm and objective like she was before they were in a Romulan prison, or would they have a problem. She is, after all, the ship's second officer and he was the chief science officer - it could be a problem if it actually became a problem.

*** Days earlier .... Romulus ***

The silence was actually what terrified her the most. Were she in a position to be philosophical about it, she might very well point out to herself that she had failed to appreciate the fact that she was still breathing and free a few hours ago even if her existence meant hiding behind the calculating and conniving Jarol, but as it was, she was just numb.

There wasn't much to say really. They had gone on a covert mission to Romulus and they had failed, and because of that failure, they were most likely going to die. She wasn't so stupid as to assume they would be rescued or pardoned because she more than anyone knew that good didn't always triumph over evil whenever she wanted it to. Examples were to be made out of them, and out of nearly twenty-six years of existence, all she could really feel was that somehow things had come full circle for her, that there were always consequences when one tried to be someone one was not, and whatever happened, she would come away believing that.

Resignation was not something anyone would admit to, but Karyn didn't need to hear it to know it existed, it was a quiet understanding between all of them, and in a way, she envied their bravery. She envied it because she didn't share it. She was too angry, and what made things worse was as a counselor, she knew she shouldn't be. This was not anyone's fault, but it was her name that had been exposed first, and when she felt everyone's eyes on her in that moment, imploring her to react, to do something to stop the unraveling of their hope and conviction, all she could think was that she had given everything she had. As the Romulan's steely gaze bore into her, she knew he could see right through her, and she was not going to gain anything by trying to tapdance so she'd left things as they were, knowing full well, it was her tongue that had gotten them here, and it was her inaction that would seal the deal.

With Jii at the mercy of their captors enduring gods knew what, Karyn could no longer sit still. She stood up abruptly and began pacing their small cell, the only outward sign of anxiety she would allow herself to display. It was something she had never really done before her mechanical legs and the repetitive motion was making her dizzy. She had distanced herself from the others as much as could under the circumstances and in the far corner of the cell, Karyn could almost believe she was alone with her thoughts.

Except she wasn't. She felt him before she actually saw him, and although it was entirely her imagination, she thought she could still feel the warmth of his hand on her arm. What she was supposed to do with the knowledge she hadn't a clue. Her back was to him now as she spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours. "You can stop following me now, we've been discovered." She smiled disdainfully at her statement of the obvious and then turned to face him. "Or have you come to get one last taste of me before you go to your death?"

Inside she was wincing at her crude characterization of what perhaps could be construed as a gentle moment, but Karyn was confused and angry, and there was a part of her that felt it was wrong of him to presume to take something from her that neither one expected was going to lead anywhere. Even now, she was still his counselor, and it bothered her that nothing could change that in her own mind, that she could hang on to that under these circumstances made her feel foolish.

Kent tried to understand the response. Was Karyn so confused between herself and the role she had assumed as Colonel Jarol that she now blamed him for what happened? It did not seem likely. She was a counselor, a professional, someone he had always been able to turn to in a moment of need, joy, happiness, fear, panic, or just for friendship. They had spent time in the Holodeck, Ten Forward, and even having dinner together just talking, and nothing more.

The scientist did not have the answers. While he was a reasonably objective and logical person, as a scientist, he was a passionate man who often did spur of the moment things without really thinking. Had he somehow damaged their relationship with his indiscretion in the Karandon research hospital? Could his impulsiveness have been misinterpreted as some form of selfishness, or for that fact, had he indeed been selfish.

"I'm not sure I understand," Kent responded, turning to Karyn and placing his back to Captain Price. "I ... um ... I ..."

The Starfleet commander was lost for words. He was not expecting this change in Karyn's behavior towards him. She had not reacted negatively while in the hospital closet, nor had she said anything untoward after they left Karandon, but now she seemed to almost distrust him. It left him feeling a little uneasy, but no more than how she seemed to be faring right now.

"What ..." he managed, trying to put his thoughts together in to words, but with little success.

"Yes.What, as in what exactly do you want from me, Kent? What am I supposed to say to you after what happened at the hospital, huh?Or did you think you could just take what you wanted from me and leave it at that?Got to have a little fun at your shrink's expense and now we can go about the rest of our lives pretending kissing me meant nothing, is that what you want?Well, kissing might be something you do for the hell of it, but not me.It means something for me, Kent, and the hardest thing for me to accept right now with the time we've got left is that you could do something so meaningless. I don't love you, Kent, and you don't know me enough to love me, so what did that mean?What am I to you, because it would just be the icing on the cake today if your kissing me was another one of your 'gotta grab the closest thing to true love I can find because I could die' moments. But with only one woman in the group, I guess you take what you can get, right?"

Peterson shook his head as he tried to get his mind around the barage of words coming from a rather enraged counselor. "Shrink? That's funny ... I always thought of you as a good friend. Someone I believe could become more than that ... I just ... well ... took the opportunity to express to you I thought we could become more than that."

Kent tried to find the words. He was a guy that believed more in actions that words - one of the reasons why he and Commander Thomas simply never got along. Maybe he misread Karyn. God he hoped he had not ruined things for good. Maybe he would be lucky and they would be assigned to different ships when they got back to Federation space.

"I'm not saying I love you," he began again as the expression on Karyn's face did not wane, "but I wanted you to know, whether we got through this or not, that I would have liked to explore being more than just colleagues ... more than just friends." He paused for a moment longer as he attempted to sum it all up quietly as not to disturb Captain Price. "If anything I regret that I may have lost your friendship over this Karyn ... I don't know." The scientist gave up. He was not a man of words - at least not when responding to an impulse or action - so he did not know how to explain it to Karyn. "I'm sorry."

Kent leaned against the wall and turned away. They were sitting there, waiting to die, and he had managed to ruin his relationship - however insignificant that meant to Counselor Dallas - so this just was not turning out to be a good day.

Karyn didn't understand what was coming over her after all this, and hell, even if as a counselor she could pass it off as frustration and confusion over everything that had happened, none of it felt good.She hated the way she felt, but that couldn't change things, could it?She turned toward him then and replied in a more gentle, but wistful tone

"I believe you don't want to hurt me, and maybe you really do have feelings for me, but you see, all the men I have ever loved and that I thought loved me in return did so because I was safe. People don't want to be judged, Kent, and I can't judge as a matter of course in what I used to do, but I'm a person just like you who I guarantee is more and less than you think.My life is full ofcould haves, should haves and would haves, so you'll excuse me if I'm not compelled to fall into your arms after your little try out when it looks as though none of it matters anymore.Do I have feelings for you? I could have. From where I'm sitting, your timing stinks, Commander."At this, she held his gaze, feeling both angry at him and herself, and more than a bit sad, tears stinging her eyes.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to put one word in front of the other. "I've been down this road awhile now, and I've stumbled enough times to know that it hurts and it's scary when I'm lost, and even though I think I have prepared myself for the very worst I can feel, when it happens I still get rolled over. All I can say is that you better be damn sure youknow what you want, because I couldn't stand to lose you in my life, and I've been around enough to know it's not something we could control even if we really tried. "And with that, she returned to sit next to the captain, too afraid to stay and hear what might come next.

"Damage Control"
Lt. Commander T'Zaq

10-Forward was beginning to regain the unique personality that so endeared it with the crew of the Galaxy, but things were far from normal. A few groups of officers sat talking quietly at tables, or meditated alone beneath the viewports. T'Zaq was occupying herself with the latter... well, not strictly meditating as much as attempting to eat sushi roll, but close enough.

Despite the fact that she was unadept at the use of chopsticks, she managed to pick up a piece and place it in her mouth. The last few months hadn't been her favorite, to say the least. In between behing upbraided by Captain Brhode, Ethan's departure, and the whole damn Hirogen thing, she'd nearly lost herself. Thank goodness the ship was still intact. There were still damages to be assessed... a smashed console here and there, some residual cleanup from Brhode's fast-and-furious flying orders, but the real repair was going to have to happen in the psyches of the crew.

T'Zaq took a sip of her water and glanced down at the stack of padds spread out on the table before her. All work that needed to be done, and it was time for her to start taking some responsibility for it. She picked up the first one. Malfunctioning linear arrays in the foodservice section. Definitely a high-priority item; it simply wouldn't do to have people getting their food switched around. She made a few notes, and went on to the next one. Partially smashed display on the secondary bridge... that was straightforward enough, assuming they had replacement parts in stock.

At last, she picked through all the requests and prioritized them. There was a lot of work to be done, and T'Zaq wasn't even sure who was left to do it. It was definitely time to convene a staff meeting. 1400 hours, next cycle. Picking up the last roll with her fingers and delicately popping it into her mouth, she gathered up all her padds and headed back to engineering to notify the department.

"Family"
by
Alia
Gavin

Gavin was close to tears. he had been locked up in the shelter for a long time now. There had been adults there to, but they had been scared as well, and some of them cried. He had tried to take care of his little brother and sister as well as possible. And some of the other little children, but he was very scared himself. What if they came for him, or the little ones. And his mother and father, Alia, he was so scared for them.

Then half an hour ago his father had come, and told him that everything was all right now. The monsters were gone. He had to stay here a little longer with his brother and sister, because his father had to work. Gavin did not understand why his mother could not be here, and his father had not told him.

Now he sat holding the twins in his arms, crying. Mummy would have been here if she was able, so she had to be dead.

Alia had been on her way to...well quite frankly she didn't know where. She had left Brian in engineering without so much as a second glance, wabting to ger anywhere, or do anything. Anything to satisfy this feeling of lost honour within her...to somehow find a way of seeking retribution.

And the only time she has slowed in her blind path, still carrying her House sword in her right hand, was when she had passed the shelters, and she heard the solemn mumbles of some mixed with the attempted silent sobs of others. Alia couldn't resist taking a look, feeling the need to check.

It was when her eye fell upon Shinta's children gathered together on the floor that it hit her. She had promised Shinta she would take care of her children, had given Shinta her word. Who knew what was happening to Shinta at the moment? Anything could have happened...and no one was there for her children.

Alia carefully slipped over to where Gavin sat crying, looking after his siblings and sheathing her sword before dropping down onto one knee as she often did when talking to Gavin.

"Gavin?" She asked quietly to get his attention.

At seeing Alia, Gavin felt so relieved that she was still alive. He wanted to say something to her, but all that would come were more tears. His face flushed red, because he was behaving like a baby. Yet he just could not stop himself.

Upon seeing his new wave of tears, Alia leant forward and took him into her arms. "Hey, now...what's all this my little Lord?" She asked but with quite and soothing amusement to try and lift the atmosphere for him a bit whilst she rubbed his back reassuringly with one hand.

"I want my mummy." He sniffed. "And I want to go home, I don't want to stay here." He looked at Alia anxiously, now she was going to tell him that his mother was dead.

Looking at him with reassuring eyes, Alia moved one hand to the side of his face, gently brushing the tears away with a thumb. "Honey, you're going to have to stay on here a little longer...but you're doing a really great job."

"why? The other children are going to their parents. The only ones that are staying....." he looked at her with big eyes. "Their parents are dead."

"Your mother isn't dead, Gavin." She said firmly, hoping that she was actually right. As she looked at the boy, she couldn't help but feel that his pain was her fault. How could she be here and act like she was his 'aunt' when she knew she had brought this on to him.

"then I want to be with her. I don't want to stay here, please Alia. Everybody here is so sad. We want to leave." He began to cry again.

"Gavin, you can't see her right now...she's not very well." She said softly, brushing a stray piece of his hair back as she looked at him. Her hands suddenly went to her neck where she took out the cross that hung around her neck underneathe the neck of the uniform...the necklace she never removed...and she carefully took it off and put it around his neck, tucking it carefully under the neck of his top. "It's lucky, it'll keep you safe."

He looked at it, it was pretty, and Gavin was genuinely pleased that Alia would give him a gift. "Thank you." He said. "What happened to my mother?" He was not that distracted. "I really want to be with her. Please, Alia. I want to see her."

"You can't, honey..." She said softly. "She's being looked after by the doctors, she needs to rest, and they need to help her." She tried to explain.

"Just for a minute, Alia. I will not be difficult." He pleaded. "And please don't make us stay here. Please."

She remembered what it had been like as a child to see her mother in bed, recovering. And she didn't like it at all, it sent a shiver up her spine. She had insisted to her father and older brother that she would be fine...but it was an image that would stay forever. She looked at the goy, unsure what to do for the best. She suddenly made a decision. "Would you like to come home with me?" She asked quietly.

"I like that very much." He said, smiling for the first time. "I think mummy would like that too. You are family."

Alia wasn't so sure if Shinta would feel that way anymore. "Yeah." She said quietly with a reassuring smile for him taking his hand. "Come on, I'll even let you play my guitar."

Gavin looked happy at that. "Thank you." He said softly. Then he handed her his little brother and sister, and followed her out of the room.

“Part of the Past, Left Behind”
By Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Operations, USS Galaxy

Location: James Corgan’s quarters

+++++++++++

Accessing Federation Communications Network…

Searching…

Uplink ready…

Source: Sector 321, Starfleet, USS Galaxy, Lieutenant James L. Corgan…

Target: Sector 001, Earth, New Orleans, 3462 Holliday Ave, Corgan Media…

Uplink Successful…

=/\=Incoming Transmission=/\=

+++++++++++

With the uplink complete, the two remaining Corgan’s in the galaxy were free to speak to their hearts content.

On one side of the line was Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan, the veteran of countless conflicts who wasn’t even near middle age. His tired, haggard eyes spoke volumes of tales, consisting of bloodshed, anger and hate. He was an artist, a soldier and a redeemer, the Corgan in his family who took it upon himself to follow the path of his family tradition. One of service and war.

On the other end was the opposite person on the spectrum. Courtney Fiona Corgan, Starfleet brat, fun loving flower child, and ruthless business woman extraordinaire stared back at James, her rested and tanned face radiating the constant joy and challenge that was her life. While James was aged and tired before his time, Courtney grew happier and younger with each passing day to make up for the years she lost when she found herself at the helm of her uncle’s record company at the age of sixteen.

How different they were. Time changed the two siblings more than they cared to admit, to the point where only sibling loyalty gave them anything in common. They were from two different worlds, playing two different lives. James life was all danger and exploration, while hers was filled with business intrigue and Napoleonic conquests of other corporations.

Two different people. How their personalities would play in their upcoming discussions was unknown, but was bound to have some incompatibilities.

Nonetheless, Courtney was glad to see her brother for the first time in more than three months, and vice versa for James. They allowed the luxury of setting aside their business to exchange in brother/sisterly pleasantries. After all, they were siblings, and business could not tear a rift TOO big. They sat back, facing each other from dozens of lightyears away, and no matter what was going to happen they were at least going to enjoy each other’s company for a few minutes.

Might as well. James suspected what he was going to say to his sister was going to result in plenty of protest.

“Hiya James!” The Incoming transmission screen faded out, showing Courtney’s flashing smile. She chattered, “Ohh… I’m so glad you could make it! I thought you were going to be fragged out there until I saw you in the Dispatch.”

”Excuse me?” James asked politely. He never read the Dispatch, but he never expected to be on it. Telling Courtney the news he had to tell her, well… it was more like a half dozen tiny things to mention, and whatever icebreaking conversation they were going to parlay in was tossed to the sidelines. “What are you talking about?”

”What? You don’t get the news?” Courtney looked surprised. She crossed her velvet gloved hands on her desk and leaned forward, “I saw the latest dispatch today. A reporter was there to catch the Hirogen attack. Geez… did they really tie you up and throw you on the planet’s surface?”

”Ummm…. welll…. sis… I don’t really want to talk about that…” James feigned, “I just got off that goddamn planet and all I’m going to say is I didn’t enjoy myself. Now what’s this about me being in the pictures?”

”Oh… bro’… I saw you on the front page.” Courtney brought up a small picture on the display. It showed James hunched over a biobed, wrapping his hand solemnly over Lieutenant Reece’s limp right hand. His face was staring away from the camera, but it was obvious who was there. “I know that’s you and your girlfriend. Is she ok?” The CEO of Smashed Up Sanity Records was increasingly frantic, clawing away at James for news.

“Sis… she’s…” James paused, hesitating to lie about Lexa’s condition. She was physically fine, but the coma gave him doubts that she was actually ok, “She… was injured in the attack. The doctors managed to heal her up, but… she’s in a coma, sis’. They’re taking her back to Earth for treatment, though the doctors say she’s the only one that can get her out of that coma.”

Lexa and Courtney’s first meeting was brief and under trying circumstances, but she still felt sad for Lexa. James’ new girlfriend was friendlier than the last and she grew to like the woman during their quick introduction, “Oh… I’m so sorry James. I know how much she means to you.”

James nodded his head, “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong out there. It was me… you know. I… this is hard to explain but… I was there.”

”Ummm… bro? Are you weirding out on me?”

His dreams of the afterlife… or whatever it was were still fresh in his memory. The thought of leaving Lexa in that cold endless void was unbearable, “No, sis’. I… I just feel bad for what happened to her. I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect a lot of people during those few days and it cost them… and her… their lives.”

“Oh geez…” Courtney impatiently rolled her eyes, “You did what you could, bro’. Let it be. Dad, Mom, Lexa and you… they all signed up and accepted the risks. This is something I wanted to bring up with you, if that’s all right.”

”Fine,” James sighed, not expecting to like what he was going to hear, “Shoot.”

As Lieutenant Corgan braced himself, CEO Corgan stated in four words what could have taken an eternity for James to say, “Come home. Stay home.”

There was no question in the universe more confusing that ‘come home’. James was already home, traveling in deep space, staying in the environment he was so used to all those years. What was home to him but an endless expanse of stars encompassing the duranium hull of a well protected starship? To him there was no home but space.

Courtney’s concept of home was always different. As a child, she always wanted to go to a planet. That was why she took every opportunity to go to Earth and work with their uncle at the record company. To her, Earth was home and space was the endless ocean separating her from it. It was clear their meaning of home was different, but her message was clear. She wanted him to return to Earth and for more than a couple of days.

“No thanks, sis’. This is my home now.” James politely refused.

Courtney’s face twisted in disapproval, “Dammit bro’! I’m serious! I’m sick of hearing how this mission did this and this mission did that. Every time I hear from you, you tell me how you’ve been close to getting killed yet again! God! It’s just like when mom and dad were in the fleet. They towed us around to who knows where and they did who knows what, and who knows how that almost killed us! And mom and dad… they put their lives on the line for the Federation, and look what happened to them! They’re dead, bro’! They’re f**king dead!”

“Hey! Leave mom and dad out of this!” James recoiled back from the tearing wound in his heart, “I’m in the fleet and I want to stay there!”

“But bro’, mom and dad died. I don’t want the same to happen to you. You know what I did when I saw that picture? I cried! Yeah… I cried for the first time since mom and dad died, because I knew how close you and Lexa were joining them!”

“Sis’, I’m staying. That’s final!”

”Not until you have to hear what I have to say!”

James paused for a second. She looked serious in her offer, whatever she had behind the table that was going to be too tempting for James to pass up. He could tell it in her eyes, that shrewd businesswoman stare that told another person she had a plan and a backup plan, and eventually she was going to wear him down and make him submit. Then again, James was unyielding in his set path. He was resistant to her tempting offers and patient enough to ride out her withering mental assaults.

“Ok. I’m listening sis’. What could the leader of a multi million dollar record conglomerate offer to a lowly Lieutenant with a meager Starfleet pension?” Lieutenant Corgan asked sarcastically.

“Ha ha… I’m trying to be serious bro’.” Courtney scolded, “Listen… Smashed Up Sanity is… no longer the same. We’re now called “Corgan Media”. While you were away playing the hero on your little starship, I was acquiring holo-studios, media companies and communications networks. I was able to pull off a hostile takeover of Sony Classical, Neo-Monolith Studios and TimeWarner/Myashi. You know what that means? I have a controlling interest on Federation media!”

Success was surprising for a Corgan. Courtney was able to break the mould, in spite of her bad luck heritage, “Corgan Media controls some pretty big names in Federation media. We have the rights to Flotter… the number one holoadventure for kids under the age of five. That’s a big market! For the older kids, we have exclusive rights to Starfleet Sam… only the most popular action hero of all time! I just made a deal with Mr. Bippy Burgers to promote new products in their Whoop De Do Meals and Starfleet’s got one of our advertising firms taking care of their promotions and recruitment ads. I control rock and roll’s resurrection on four different planets and I even though our capital is pretty much tied up in all this, we’ll be showing profits in the fourth quarter of this year that you have only dreamed of!”

She paused, catching her breath before continuing, “There is opportunity unlike anything you have ever seen. Your shares in Smashed Up Sanity Records are now Corgan Media preferred stocks with an annual dividend of 10%. Top that off with the album your band promised and you’ll have more than enough to retire. But that’s not all…”

”You see… I want you to come back to Earth and work for me!”

James was floored by her announcement, “What? No… I can’t!”

”Now hold on bro’. Starfleet isn’t the life for you and your girlfriend. I think you should quit, and as soon as your girlfriend wakes up I think you should convince her to quit too. I don’t want you to risk your goddamn neck again! I made sure that if you’re going to quit Starfleet that you’d get a job in my company. You could go solo… or get the band on a tour… or maybe you could be a producer! I had to fire that Vincent Rios guy a month back and I need somebody that can do the job right! There’s opportunities for you here, not in Starfleet, but here! Right at home. You won’t have to be in danger ever again. You’ll have a steady job and you and your girlfriend will have a safe and stable life. You can’t have that in space and it’s not good for you and your relationship. Think about this, bro’. Please…”

Her statement was a stunning blow, but not enough to convince James to back down. He was adamant in his decision, no matter what his sister said. The ghosts of his parents and Lexa’s unfortunate accident was no match for a Corgan set on a course of action. There was something more important for him to do in Starfleet, more important than a secure and cushy life on Earth. His career was more important than making sure Lexa was well taken care of.

Starfleet was everything the young man needed in his life. He felt an intrinsic need fulfilled when he was among the stars. His violent life was horrid, but not enough to negate his interest in the interstellar void between worlds. If he was going to leave his home and come to Courtney’s home, then he was abandoning the life he fought hard for all along.

There was more to his set decision than his home. He couldn’t make a difference on Earth. The life of a producer was far removed from the life and death situations on the final frontier. His time one the Galaxy gave him a definite path to follow. His decisions, for better or for worse, decided the fate of his fellow crewmembers. Sometimes it meant death. Other times it meant he saved their lives. How was he to do any good behind a studio booth?

And what if he left the ship and accepted his role in society as a civilian? His department was going to be abandoned again, leaving James as the briefest Chief of Operations on the USS Galaxy. The department needed stabilization (at least until Lexa came back, if she ever woke up from her coma) after all the changes it went through. Dozens of death and multiple shufflings of senior staff demoralized what was left of Ops. If he left, he would be adding to the situation and making it even worse.

There were people who needed him on that ship. His friends. His department. His crewmates.

The entire Federation.

Starfleet needed men like him to fill the ranks. He fulfilled a niche as a protector, a fighter and a leader. Abandoning his post permanently encouraged what was going wrong with Starfleet. Discharges, AWOL’s, retirements… all because things were looking glum.

James wasn’t going to give up so easily. He was needed. He just hoped Lexa, and possibly Courtney, would understand.

“Sorry sis’. I can’t accept.” James refused his sister’s tempting offer of a peaceful existence, “…I know you don’t like me getting in danger, and now that I have a girlfriend you don’t want to see me break her heart by getting myself killed. I know how that feels. Lexa’s coma constantly reminds me of the price I have to keep on paying here. It’s just that… I can’t leave. If people like me leave, there is no Starfleet. If we all decided everything was too nasty to deal with, then we would roll up and die. Somebody has to do the dirty work out here. I have to go out and do the defending and the killing, though that’s considered deplorable in this day and age, because not many others are willing to do the same. “

”Oh come off it! What are you, Starfleet Sam?” Courtney spat, “The Federation won’t fall apart if you leave! You’ll have it good in the civilian sector! Credits… fame… security… everything you need! Let someone else take care of everything for awhile. You can’t take much more of it anyways!”

”NO! I’ll I’m doing this because I’m needed out there more than you need me on Earth! And another thing. Earth’s not my home! I’m at home here! You’re asking me to leave my home, my ‘mates and my responsibilities behind. I can’t do that, not for the entire company!”

James, backed into a corner by Courtney’s prodding, pleading and sly guilt trips brought out his more aggressive side. He hated how his sister thought so shallowly. She didn’t look at the big picture, not in the way James saw it. She saw herself, her brother and few other people. James had too many reasons to stay, and her insistence on having him leave those reasons behind was pushing him too far.

Courtney reeled back in stunned silence, too agape for a rebuttal. James was in no mood to hear her pleas.

“Sis’, you have to accept what I do out there. I don’t want you to try to pull me out. I just want to wish me and Lexa good luck out there, ok? I’m fine here, and I know I’m in a dangerous line of work but I want you to know that I’m out there doing something important. Its what I am and what I’ll always be. A Starfleet Officer. I can’t be anything but that until they say I’m no longer needed.”

”But… James….” She stammered.

“Please sis’, accept what I’m doing. Don’t hate me this. I want you to be behind me in everything I do, or else I’ll start to lose the reasons I’m out here. I know you want me to leave but please… don’t try to stop what’s happened. I can’t promise I’ll not end up like mom and dad but I can tell you I’ll try my damnedest to keep alive out there. That’s the best I can do for you. Will you accept that…?”

Courtney quivered dejectedly, scrambling for the words that would change his mind, but she knew she was defeated. Her protests wouldn’t stop James from his reckless course. He didn’t open up to her reasoning. She could protest all she wanted and still her pleas would fall on his deaf ears.

”Ok. Fine…” She sobbed, “Do what you want. Join mom and dad for all I care! F**k it! You might as well be dead like them!”

“Oh come on sis’! Please don’t do this!” James yelled, “I just want some freaking support! I supported you when you decided to take the company over! I was at your side when you ran all those recording studio’s out of business! We all do bad things, but we’re family. I supported you within reason, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask from you. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to tell Lexa when she wakes up that you’re not speaking to us anymore.”

James set up a plea of his own, “Sis’, I need you more than ever. Lexa’s gone. I don’t know if she’s coming back. All my other friends are either moving on or… they’re not friends at all, just people I can’t bloody well stand! Rebecca, Sotek, Brightspot, Gerald, Jorial, Lex… they eventually leave. I’m left alone. I don’t want to lose you too. I don’t want to be alone.”

Courtney’s heart grew larger. She was no longer the businesswoman, but James’ sister. She could see that her negotiation was going awry. James was too deeply rooted in his job and he needed stability. Not the stability she could offer with a job on Earth, but people who didn’t drift away.

She finally gave in, “What choice do I have?” She said, sighing, “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m still not used to you risking your life and all. I don’t want you and Lexa to end up like mom and dad.”

”I know. We nearly did, but that’s what we do. We’re not like mom and dad, though are job’s the same. Sis?”

”Yes?”

”I have something to give to you…”

James brought up the upload display on his computer. He linked two dozen wave files over a separate and heavily encrypted comm.line. The console whirred and clicked, sending the files from the central computer of the Galaxy to the central computer at Corgan Media. A half minute later, the files were received on Courtney’s computer.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“It’s… the rest of the album… and a letter stating we’re breaking up.” James said emotionally. Breaking up his band was gut wrenching, but inevitable.

Courtney displayed her most heartfelt sympathies, “But… why?”

”I’m sorry sis’, but I can’t handle being a musician and a Starfleet officer at the same time. Neither can the rest of my band. They want to move on with their careers and they think music will get in the way. Quite frankly, I found I had a hard time getting the band together because they’re always on a mission or doing a project. So… I got them all together using the holographic link technology from our last concert and we all linked up to do one last recording. Here it is.”

“But James… I didn’t think…”

”Relax. Lita’s taking care of the holovids. That’ll make up for the lack of concerts, and maybe someday we’ll get together and do one last performance. But for now… I want you to listen to the tracks and tell me what you think when I visit.”

”You mean… you are coming to Earth?”

”Yeah. Sorry I can’t take your job offer, but I won’t miss seeing my favorite kid sister now, won’t I?”

Courtney dipped her head, finding a smile buried inside her disappointment, “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t mind seeing my favorite big brother.”

James smiled, “Thanks sis’. I’m coming by in about a couple of weeks. I’ll be hitching a ride on the M.L. Landow. They’re going to take Lexa to a hospital on Earth… I think in Philidephia. That’s not far from New Orleans. Why don’t you stop by and visit me and Lex while you’re at it?”

”Sure… why not?” Courtney said, “I’ll even see about visiting her on a regular basis. The least I can do for you while you’re gone.”

”Thanks… I appreciate it sis’. Lieutenant Corgan out.” He waved goodbye, watching the screen switch to ‘End Transmission’.

It wasn’t the talk he wanted. He received the bad speech first then the heartfelt discussion later. The conversation was anything but lighthearted. In a sense he set in motion the rest of career, where he decided to leave the past where it belonged; the past. There was a future to plan ahead, and there was no room for Corgan the musician. His life was now freed up, leaving plenty of room for Corgan the warrior, lover and loyal friend.

"Of Patience and Patients: Part Two"

Lt.Commander Shinta Navvare-Maxwell,
Assistant chief Counsellor

Lieutenant Brian Elessidil
Counsellor

Lieutenant Autumn Quevvenson
Assistant Chief Medical Officer

******

Shinta looked at the both of them, doubt in her eyes. Then she really focused on Brian, he looked terrible.

"Did you get hit?" She asked with concern. Now she struggled to sit up in bed.

"No, not really," he replied, suddenly remembering he was probably as close to death in his disagreement with Alia as he was from the Hirogen who tried to surprise him. "More than anything, I'm just exhausted." He smiled weakly, "I don't even remember the last time I had a real night's sleep."

"But you're in far worse condition than I am, so lie down, stop worrying about me, and get better," he added with a smile.

Autumn placed her hands gently on Shinta's shoulders. "Lay down Shinta. Brian will go and find out about your kids ok?"

"Yes, that's a good idea," Brian added, thankful that Autumn has supplied an opportunity for him to get away from sickbay and hopefully ease his headache a little. "I'll leave you in Autumn's capable hands and see what I can find out about your family."

Shinta finally gave in, she was too tired. "Brian, promise to come back soon with news. And take care of yourself."

Brian smiled down at her, "As soon as I know something, I'll make sure you know it. And don't worry about me -- if I can survive being on the ship with the Hirogen, I'm not too concerned about surviving without them."

Having done his best to reassure her, Brian turned and started toward the door. "Take good care of 'er, doc," he said to Autumn as he made his way out.

"How long are you going to keep me here, doctor?" she asked. Shinta had never been fond of hospitals.

Autumn gave her a reasuring smile. "Not too long. About a day or so.. Just until we are sure you are fine. Then I am putting you on Light duties for a couple of days. Nothing to drastic. Relax Shinta.. I hate hospitals myself.. you will be out and back with your children as soon as possible"

Shinta was very tired now, she could hardly keep her eyes open. "Can I see them now? They must be so frightened." She struggled against sleep.

Autumn nodded. "When Brian brings them back Shinta ok.. Now relax and let's get you patched up ok?"

She nodded, and drifted off to sleep.

[OOC: Post set to Elvis Presley's "Falling In Love With You"]

"Falling In Love With You"
Donovan Black, Tactical Ensign
Sendi Soleri, Sciences Ensign

Donovan finally arrived in his quarters, hours after leaving the Planet of Doom for the last time. He looked at the mess that lay before him. Venril had smashed the expensive weapons case that Donovan had installed upon his coming aboard. There was glass all over the floor. It crunched beneath his boots as he entered the dim quarters.

"Computer, one half lights." Donovan said. He wasn't really in the mood for brightness. He was tired. The near death experience had taken a lot out of him and he couldn't say it had ended well. Multiple lacerations, internal breading, several broken ribs and first degree plasma burns, the EMH mk. 1 had snootily told him. "You must have been extremely careless. It's a wonder you're not dead." it had said, never mind that all the other mk. ones were now mining dilithium. Pity about that. The EMH mk. one on the USS Relentless had been an enjoyable fellow, though the one here seemed to be missing his sympathy subroutine.

After nearly an hour of cleaning, Donovan had the quarters in something resembling the way they had been before. The only real difference was that Donovan had taken a few trophies of his own. Venril's plasma rifle and Kro'phul's barbed knives now adorned Ensign Black's wall along with the phaser compression rifle type 3b and the katana that he had used to kill Venril and Kro'phul.

Donovan finally settled on his bed. He looked over at the Vulcan pulse rifle that was hanging in the weapons case. Sendi Soleri. The Andorian who he had fallen in love with had been the last to use that weapon.

~I wonder if we’ll stay in love, now that we’re back aboard~ he asked himself. He had often wondered about her since they had left the Planet of Doom.

“Computer, play program Black Presley 238.” he said. The lights dimmed. Music began to play. It was slow and beautiful, crescendoing to the beginning of the vocal part. Donovan began to sing, his rich baritone voice echoing around the small quarters rated by an ensign.

“Wise men say,
only fools rush in.
But I can’t help,
falling in love with you.”

Little did Donovan know that Sendi Soleri happened by his quarters on the way to her own. She paused by the door, wondering whether to enter or not. He had invited her to visit whenever she wanted.

“Should I stay?
Would it be a sin?
Cause’ I can’t help,
falling in love with you.”

Sendi sighed as he sung the second verse. ~Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any.~ she thought. After a moment, she entered Donovan’s door code into the keypad, letting herself in. He had given her the code when he offered to see her again. The young Andorian woman stepped into his quarters. He appeared a little startled, but didn’t miss a beat, still singing as he walked over to her.

“Like a river flows,
slowly to the sea.
Baby, so it goes,
Some things were meant to be.”

Now Sendi recognized the song. Elvis Presley circa the late 1960s on Earth. SHe’d sung it before. ~Interesting, isn’t there an Ensign Presley down in Security?~ she thought. She joined in as they walked to each other.

“Take my heart.
Take my whole life too.
For I can’t help,
falling in love with you.”

Donovan caught her up in his arms, kissing her ever so gently before continuing the song. It was a brief but important kiss, her purple lips ever so sweet against his. It had been nearly twenty years for Donovan and Sendi rarely ever dated. Now here they found themselves.

“Like a river flows,
slowly to the sea.
Baby, so it goes,
Some things were meant to be.”

Donovan sang back to her as their bodies began to move to the slow, steady beat of the music. It wasn’t the best song to dance to, but dance they did. They danced slowly, him holding her in his arms, their eyes locked on one another. Now Sendi sang to Donovan, her cool breath prickling his skin.

“Take my heart.
Take my whole life too.
For I can’t help,
falling in love with you.”

She finished the song, Donovan harmonizing softly. For Sendi, with her extremely sensitive ear antennae, the last note was extremely satisfying, almost arousing, as it rang in her ears. The music slowly died away and the program ended. Sendi melted into his arms. He backed slowly to a lounge chair and pulled her down into it.

Sendi laughed aloud, winding up sitting in his lap, laying against one arm of the chair, her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed him again, her lips like delicate strawberries, then she lay her head against his chest. Her antennae brushed against his stubbly chin, which he hadn’t shaved since the invasion. They both were tickled by the experience and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Sendi murmured.

“You. This. I guess it was meant to be. I never would have guessed that we’d fall in love when we found ourselves stranded on that planet. Now look at us.” he said in response. Sendi smiled.

“Love is very important among my people. We are a very passionate race, and as a result divorce is extremely rare. It is the same with hatred, anger, happiness, and in this case, contentment.” she said, snuggling closer. Donovan noticed the way her lithe form fit there, like it belonged. She continued, “My parents..... Well, my parents loved each other very much. So much so that they died together, even when my mother had the chance to escape. What to do? What to do?”

“Well, we both have department meetings to attend now, but afterwards I’d love it if you could meet me back here, provided you have no pressing duties.” he said, gently disengaging himself from her as he stood up. She followed suit, looping his arm over her shoulders for support. Donovan was still very weak from his fight with Venril.

“I’d love that.” she said simply, then they started for the door.

“Sendi” he paused, “I love you.”

“I know.”

And with that they left the ecstatic ensign’s quarters.

“Cleaning Up after death”
By Lieutenant Autumn Quevvenson, ACMO
In the Quarters of the late Ensign Scott Hunter

Autumn stood in the middle of Scott’s quarters. Dressed in a pair of baggy oversized blue denim overalls and a skin tight white tee-shirt with joggers on her feet she finished pulling her long black hair into a pony tail. The ends of the tail hung at her waist. She gazed around the small quarters and sighed. She had taken the responsibility of empting out his quarters on herself, feelings of guilt and sadness filled her as she moved towards his bedroom. Scott had claimed to love her. She had not even considered that a possibility. She had never even looked his way because of her feelings for Wil overshadowed any feelings she might have felt for Scott.

Now she was the only person who he had even known on the ship, so when his name had appeared on the list of those whose quarters had to be empted out she had just taken the job.

She began the job of packing up his stuff. She started with his clothes and the like. When they were packed she contacted the transporter chief to transport the box to a storage area. She would then have it shipped to Earth for storage. She moved into his main room and began to dismantle his weapon case.

He had a VERY expensive collection of ancient laser, phaser, plasma, weapons as well as blades even his Vulcan knife and sword. which are rare as hell. Silently she held the Vulcan Knife in her hand silently before putting it to the side. All of his weapons she would have shipped to the Chateau in France. She was sure there would be a room where she could convince Wil to store weapons. If she had to keep Scott’s separate then so be it. She continued to work and half an hour later she had finished packing it all and organized a STARLINGS Shuttle to collect the boxes and ship them to Earth. All that was left was his Vulcan knife.

She silently placed that in her boot and after the room was empty she called the Quartermaster and told him so. She then made her way home to her quarters to contemplate the lose of her friend.

She stopped about 5 steps from his old quarters and then turned and headed for the Quartermasters office to find an engraver.

Half an hour later the sheath of the Vulcan Knife was engraved with:

Scott Hunter
USS Galaxy Medical Department
2378
Rest In Peace

She then took it back to her quarters and placed it beside her parrying dagger in the weapons case.

Later on she would place in a protective case in Medical, so no one forgot the cost that they all had to pay to keep the peace in the galaxy.

"Dog and pony show"
by Captain Robert Edward Lee Price
and Commander Rebecca von Ernst
and Counselor Brian Elessidil

with Captain John Brhode
and Vice-Admiral T'Paal
and Leo Streely
and Lieutenant James Lionel Corgan
and Commander Karyn Dallas
and Commander Kent Peterson
and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin Jii
and Lieutenant Commander Rayna Lamar O'Grady

Captain's Log: Stardate 50203.15
Captain John Brhode reporting.

This will be my final entry as Captain of the starship Galaxy. I've received word from both Admiral Hoth and Vice-Admiral T'Paal that Captain Price, the former commanding officer of this boat, was successful in his mission and will be returning to resume command. Even though I don't know the man that well, other then by reputation, I find that I am glad he wasn't killed in action as my superiors' felt was a strong possibility. While this ship and crew are not anywhere near what I would have assembled as her Captain, I find that they are competent, hard working and loyal -- especially when the chips are down.

The final official act I'll make as the Galaxy's Captain is to validate the Admiral's orders to turn command of the vessel and responsibility of the crew over the Captain Price. Once again this meeting is to take place in Ten Forward; a final dog and pony show for the crew of the ship. I'll do my best to make it a memorable occasion.

***

Captain John Brhode stood with his arms crossed and waited in Ten Forward impatiently. Most of the Senior Staff had already arrived and were standing around the Galaxy's social center, quietly waiting to see what this was all about. There were many junior officers there too, though more then a handful decided to leave when the brusque Captain entered the lounge. It was amazing how Brhode could do that; bring a noisy room full of friendly conversations to utter silence just by his presence alone. Tapping a padd he was holding in his hand against his arm to pass the time, he wondered what was taking Vice-Admiral T'Paal so long to arrive with Price and company.

At the bar, Leo Streely was busy talking to the crewmembers that were standing near by. He kept taking out a datapad and trying to get them to look at it, some refusing, others taking it and tapping in some information. Brhode paid him no attention. Knowing Leo he was doing something illegal but harmless. At least he was keeping some of the crew occupied while not making an ass out of himself as he usually did.

Finally the doors to Ten Forward opened and Vice-Admiral T'Paal entered. In her company were Captain Robert Edward Lee Price, Commanders Karyn Dallas and Kent Peterson, and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin Jii. The entire energy of the room shifted dramatically when the Ausy & company entered the lounge. Even Brhode acknowledged it. Everyone was glad to see their former commanding officer and friends.

"G'day 'mates." The General greeted. "G'day. G'day." Lee stated to each person he passed. Some officers reached out to shake their former Captain's hand.

Dallas, Peterson and Elaithin experienced similar greetings. It was obvious these crewmembers were all well respected and loved by this crew.

Making his way through the crowd in Ten Forward, Counselor Brian Elessidil could feel, better than anyone, the tense anticipation that filled room. Although he was still dying to just get back to his quarters and rest, he was curious about what this gathering was all about. Obviously, it was important and therefore would impact the crew. With everyone in such a physical and emotional state after the encounter with the Hirogen, he wanted to be as on top of things as possible so he would be better prepared to counsel people when they came to him.

Finding an open spot practically right next to where all the brass were assembled, Brian took a good look at each of them. Front and center were Bhrode and Price. It was the first time Brian had seen Bhrode in person, and one of the few times he had been around Price. The contrast he sensed between the two captains' thoughts and feelings at the moment were all the more reflected in their posture and bearing. These were indeed considerably different men, different captains.

"May I have everyone's attention please?" Vice-Admiral T'Paal asked to quiet the now noisy room. The Vulcan didn't need to wait long before her request was honored. The room hushed in a matter of moments as each person listened carefully with anticipation of what this was all about.

"Thank you. By order of Starfleet Command on this Stardate, 50203.15 Captain Price, Robert Edward Lee has been authorized to take command of the starship USS Galaxy, registration NCC-70637. He will relieve Captain Brhode, John of all responsibilities and duties to commence immediately. Further, the officers Commander Dallas, Karyn, Commander Peterson, Kent and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin Jii are reassigned back to their former positions on board the USS Galaxy, registration NCC-70637. So ordered and signed, Admiral Nakamura, Starfleet Command and duly noted and witnessed by Vice-Admiral T'Paal on this day and time." The Vulcan Admiral read the order. T'Paal then looked over to Captain Brhode.

Behind the bar a quiet "YES!!!" could be heard being uttered by Leo Streely, but he was soon silenced by a disapproving glance from Vice-Admiral T'Paal.

John gave a nod. "Computer, recognize Brhode, John. Captain USS Galaxy."

["Working. Recognize Captain Brhode, John. Current commanding officer USS Galaxy NCC-70637."]

"Computer, enter change in command. Add new commanding officer, Captain Price, Robert Edward Lee. Authorize full access to command codes." Brhode ordered.

["Command code authorization required."] the computer reminded.

"Command authorization Brhode, Theta, Theta, Gamma, Alpha, Theta." The Captain called out.

["Authorization accepted. Captain Price, Robert Edward Lee added as new commanding officer USS Galaxy NCC-70637."]

"Computer, remove authorization for Captain Brhode, John from USS Galaxy command codes." Captain Brhode ordered. It would be his final order as Captain of the USS Galaxy.

["Request completed. Removed command code authorization for Captain Brhode, John from USS Galaxy NCC-70637."] the computer in toned.

A wave of relief filled the vacuum left behind as the announcement of Captain Price's return swept the Bhrode-inspired tension from the room. It was a welcome feeling to the Betazoid counselor. Brian smiled broadly at what to most was the best piece of news ever to hit the ship, at least in recent memory.

And it was doing wonders for Brian's headache.

The General just stood there with a wide smile on his face. It was great to be back home on his ship and surrounded by his 'mates that all loved him.

"I recon that does it 'mate. Thanks for keeping my lady in one piece while I was away." Lee flashed his boyish grin. He still wasn't aware of the beating she took under Brhode's command. He'd only just returned from the mission to Romulus. "Good luck on your next assignment 'mate, whatever that might be. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you in the future Captain." Price said with sincere diplomacy as he shook Captain Brhode's hand. Having not been around during the iron-handed Brhode's tenure as commanding officer of the Galaxy, Lee had no idea of what happened or took place while he was away to Romulus.

The Australian Captain was being easy going, even jovial in demeanor and generosity. Brhode had heard it was the way Price did things, but he couldn't help but feel there was more to it then that. Price was too comfortable. His gregariousness would soon come to an end however, for now it was Brhode that was smiling.

"Thank you Price. As a matter of fact there is something you can do for me." Brhode stated while preparing the datapadd he'd been holding.

"What is it 'mate?" Lee asked.

"I've taken the liberty of speaking to Commander Von'Ernst about continuing her tenure as my Executive Officer and leaving the USS Galaxy. She's decided to accept the promotion in rank and position. I have the transfer documents drawn up right here. If you'd be so kind to authorize them Captain..." Brhode explained with cold calculating delight.

The look on Captain Price's face was one of surprise and shock. Commander Von'Ernst? First Officer? Lee glanced around and for the first time noticed that Thomas wasn't there. What had happened to Chris while he was away? Come to think of it, there were a number of different faces. Where was Reece? Suder and Dothan? Lee took the padd and scratched his head as he glanced around and wondered what had transpired while he was undercover on Romulus?

Finally his eyes found the redhead Commander Von'Ernst on the opposite side of Captain Brhode. When he looked at the Minnesotan sitting quietly by herself away from the gathered crowd, for the first time he realized she was separating herself for a reason.

"Are you sure about this 'mate? Do you really want to take this promotion?" Lee asked.

All eyes in the room turned to face the small inconspicuous figure that had been lurking about in the back of the room alone. Once upon a time such a sudden gathering of attention would have sent the butterflies to flight in her stomach, and dried up all ability to utter a coherent response.

This was no longer the case however and the slim figure slipped smoothly from her chair and stood to reply.

"Captain Price," she began softly, her trademark whispery voice barely carrying over the distance across the lounge, "when I arrived barely a year ago, it was the intentions of . . . . higher up to provide me with valuable learning opportunities aboard this ship that would one day enable me to understand the various intricacies of leadership and personal responsibility."

She paused a moment and stared out across the silent observant crowd seeing among them the familiar faces of friend and enemy alike.

"I must confess that I DID learn aboard your ship, but unfortunately the demands of crisis has perhaps forced me to grow up TOO quickly." Memories of her rocket-like rise from lowly Ensign to Brevet Commander, danced in everyone's minds. Whether you loved her (as a few did) or hated her (as most everyone else did) the crew of the Galaxy had to admit that the career of one Rebecca von Ernst was something of a soap opera story. The tragic deaths or injuries of the various Department Chiefs ahead of her had cleared the way to allow a skittish sniveling little girl to blossom into something of a confident but cold hearted killer. Those that had been left in her dust so to speak could only shake their heads and wonder if the change was an improvement . . . or a nightmare come true.

Rebecca gave a small sad sigh that reflected the emptiness that she felt in her heart. "A lot has changed since you left sir," she continued softly, "Unfortunately I'm not the little girl you left in charge of Tactical. I'm XO now, and while I believe I have performed as expected," she flashed quick look at Lysander in the crowd, "I highly doubt you are going to let me remain in this spot. The Crew's dislike of me is rather apparent." She gave a wry smile in acknowledgement of her low popularity. "The dilemma then is this . . ..I'd like to remain on as XO here . . . .but if not the choice is between returning to what I once was . . . .Chief Tactical Officer, or the opportunity to go forward and find out what exactly I may become."

She shook her head sadly, her longish red hair dancing gracefully about her shoulders. "I may not like who I am Captain . . . . but I have to know WHAT I am. I need to learn to be XO; If not here, then with Brhode. He doesn't have the fears you do about my potential. I can't allow you hold me back here." Her brown eyes flickered briefly to meet the astonished gaze of James Corgan, then to the bewildered face of Lysander Hawksley, before settling on the smug grimace of John Brhode.

"Captain Brhode, you were the first person in Starfleet who accepted me for who I am without questions or reservations. You said 'I don't care if you stutter or puke Ernst, just get the job done like I know you can'. That meant a lot sir; and I think snapped me into a new realization of my destiny. For that I . . I . . I owe you and will serve with you."

She paused and looked back to Price. "W . .w. . .with y . . .your permission of course s.s.s.sir."

It was a lot to digest. Evidently a lot *had* happened while the General was away. Rebecca's words had made Lee feel bad. It was no secret that he was unhappy with the Tactician's performance on the Galaxy. Part of that was resentment over Starfleet Commands, or more specifically, Admiral Hoth's insistence that Von'Ernst be promoted to Chief Tactical Officer when Lee felt she simply wasn't ready. The Rebecca he knew over the last year's time was a social illiterate. She couldn't order anyone to do anything, and most the time couldn't even speak clearly enough to be understood without stuttering. He knew that he'd let his frustrations show on occasion over the Starfleet wiz-kid's lack of people skills to properly take command. While Lee had been much better at masking his frustrations then Commander Thomas had been, he knew that Rebecca knew he wasn't 100% pleased with her performance as CTO. Lee felt bad about that. But deep down he knew she was right. There was no way he was going to leave her as First Officer of a ship under his command. He knew her too well to allow that. In a few years maybe she'd be ready for such a position. But right now, Lee had been around long enough to know she wasn't ready for the responsibilities of command. Rebecca was on a fast track, thanks to a mathematical gift with numbers and tactical situations and a huge push from the top brass in Starfleet Command. But Lee felt this track was moving too fast for the fair skinned redhead from Minnesota. She was going to crack under the pressure eventually at this rate. That's what happened to officers that were pushed too hard, too fast. Price wouldn't allow that to happen to an officer under his command. If Brhode was offering Von'Ernst a promotion, and she wanted to take it, he wouldn't stand in her way. But he still felt that she was moving too fast and that something, somewhere was going to break if she wasn't careful.

"Cri-key 'mate. I really don't know what to say in response to that."

"Nothing needs be said Captain. Just put your authorization code in there and..." Brhode began to dominate the conversation in hawk-like fashion.

Captain Price silenced Brhode with a raised finger and a piercing glance indicating he wasn't through yet. It was somehow exhilarating to see the General assert himself like that, especially to Captain Brhode who fell silent under the General's glare.

Walking past the rebuffed Brhode, Captain Price stopped in front of Von'Ernst and looked at her for a long moment. The General's pale blue eyes searched Rebecca's soul for a long minute. She was forced to divert her eyes the gaze was so intense. Price wasn't being hostile. His eyes had a sincere, inquisitive quality to them. It was like he was trying to evaluate her potential or see her destiny right in that instant. Rebecca wasn't sure if it was the Captain's intense stare or the realization that every person in the room was watching her every move that forced her to look down at her shoes.

Finally the Captain tapped in his authorization and handed the padd to Von'Ernst. "It's been a honor serving with you Commander."

Acknowledging The General's reply with a slight nod and a blush, Rebecca reverted briefly into her shy nature, and timidly fidgeted for a moment before handing the padd to Captain Brhode and then quickly finding her seat again, sinking back into the anonymousness of the crowd.

Brhode took the padd, reviewed it and then handed it to Vice-Admiral T'Paal with a victorious smile. Though forced to adapt the master plan because of Price's return to the Galaxy, Admiral Hoth would be pleased with the over all outcome none the less.

T'Paal took the datapadd and reviewed it quickly.

Captain Brhode turned and faced *full* Commander Von'Ernst. "I'll expect you to report to Earth and be ready for duty in three weeks Commander!"

Lee glanced over to Rebecca with another question etched on his face. When he signed the transfer order, he assumed she'd be leaving immediately with Brhode and Vice-Admiral T'Paal on the Prospero.

Rebecca saw Captain Price looking at her for an explanation. She quietly provided one by simply saying, "I have shore leave coming..."

Price gave a nod. That made perfect sense. With the fast track Starfleet had the young officer on, who knew how long it would be before she could take a much needed break from the pressures of command? Taking leave when changing assignments was the best time to do so. Lee figured that must have been Admiral Hoth's idea. Maybe he actually was concerned about burning Rebecca out...

"I believe that concludes our business here gentlemen." Vice-Admiral T'Paal stated glancing up from the padd and looking at Captain Price and then Captain Brhode before adding with Vulcan sarcasm, "Unless there are any more last minute transfer requests you intend to make Captain?"

Brhode enjoyed the momentary silence that fell over the Ten Forward lounge once again. He knew he wasn't well liked by this crew, at least not the way Price was. Still, he enjoyed the challenge of taking charge and forging his will on the officers. Forcing them to perform and give the respect that was due a commanding officer. Somehow their silence now validated that he'd done the job he was sent to do.

"No Admiral. We can leave at any time." Brhode informed.

T'Paal nodded. "Then we will be departing Captain Price. Your orders are to bring the ship to Starbase 415 to undergo repairs. I'm sure your people can brief you on what has transpired on the ship in your absence."

Captain Price gave a courtesy nod in the Admiral's direction. "I will look forward to it Admiral. It seems like a lot has happened while we were away."

Brhode smiled. "More then you can possibly imagine."

Price and Brhode exchanged glances for a long moment; each trying to sum up what the other was made of; neither wavering in the least.

"We are done here. Dismissed gentlemen. Captain Brhode, if you will accompany me?" T'Paal ordered.

"After you Admiral." Brhode stated with a motion of his hand.

Not seeing Reece in the lounge, Lee glanced over to Lieutenant Corgan, "Why don't you see the Admiral and Captain to the transporter room 'mate and see that they arrive safely on the Prospero?"

The operations officer gave a willing nod. "Yes sir Captain!" James said with perhaps just a bit too much enthusiasm for the company present.

Lieutenant Corgan, Captain Brhode and Vice-Admiral T'Paal then exited Ten Forward together on route for the transporter room.

They were barely gone before the party got started.

"Welcome home Captain!" One crewmember declared. Then another, and another expressed their joy over the General's return.

The Captain wasn't the only one to receive accolades.

"Welcome back Counselor." Brian said to Karyn.

"Thank you Brian. It's good to be back." She smiled.

Rayna stepped near Lieutenant Commander Elaithin and gave him a teasing bump with her shoulder, causing him to have to step back to retain his balance.

"Hey, watch it 'Commander." Elaithin protested with a slight grin.

"That's for leaving and sticking me with a desk full of reports to finish when you left." Rayna explained with a smile of her own.

"Welcome back Commander." Mitchell expressed to Peterson.

"Anything interesting happen while I was away James?" Kent asked. He knew he didn't have to worry about the running of the department. Mitchell was a competent scientist and had experience serving as Chief Science Officer before.

Mitchell gave a small smile, thinking of the change in commanders, the reorganizing of the duty roster to appease the new CO, the holodeck restrictions and court marshal that resulted from that simple order, the Hirogen attack and capture of the ship, the fight to survive and retake the Galaxy. He thought of all of it and then just gave a small smile in return to the Commander's question.

"Well yes actually. We took some interesting readings from the Mako Nebula. I'm sure you'll find them fascinating..." the scientist offered.

"You are right. Let's go take a look shall we?" Kent stated with a smile. He had no idea what other "interesting" things happened while he was gone from the ship. But there would be time enough to find that out later. Right now he just wanted to take a look at the Mako Nebula data and see what new information they had discovered by surveying the unique phenomenon. Peterson and Mitchell were true scientists, through and through.

The pair exited Ten Forward while the rest of the crew continued to say their welcomes to the returning crewmembers and make them feel at home on the USS Galaxy.

"Demoted...A Proper Word For It?" by
Lt. Cmdr. Rayna Lamar O'Grady
CSecO (now ASecO)
USS Galaxy

"That's for leaving and sticking me with a desk full of reports to finish when you left." Rayna explained with a smile of her own.

She seemed okay with everything but underneath her smile was a different one. Reality started to sink in. She would no longer be the chief in her department. Going back to Assistant was going to be hard after tasting command. Mike was busy talking to another crewmember so he didn't notice her slip away from the party. She wandered aimlessly in the corridors of the ship until she ended up at Security. She sat in the big chair and pulled out a bottle of liquor that she confiscated from a crewman...the real stuff.

She spun around in the chair once, enjoying the seat one last time as Chief of Security. It just didn't seem fair...no...more like an elaborate joke on her. She thought she got the position as chief because she earned it and thought that it was permanently hers. She poured herself a glass, "Here's to a job well done Mrs. O'Grady." She downed her drink and sat the glass down, pouring herself another one. She stared into her glass, thinking about the last few weeks of hell. The Hirogen and the dead bodies, one in particular, she really thought about. The one she came upon while being hunted. Killed and the tongue cut from the body was a little to much to handle. The nausea return with the mere thought of it. She downed another glass hoping to numb her brain as to not think about it. A fellow security officer walked by, passed, then backtracked, "Commander O'Grady, I thought that you were at the meeting." She looked at him, "I was...got a little bored. Thought I'd be board where I feel more at home." He noted the bottle and glass, "Would you like some company?" She shook her head, "No thanks. I have had enough of a crowd for one day." He nodded and went on his way, wondering if he should let her husband know but he changed his mind. It wasn't his business unless she was to get so drunk as to make a fool of herself. He'd check on her later.

Rayna hit her forehead on the desk twice...the second time, keeping her forehead on the desk. She thought out loud, "Lady, looks like you have just been demoted...I think." All that proving to Brhode that she was able to do the job, was it just a waste? That pompous ass had given her a hard time and what did she get for it? A demotion...at least, that's what it seemed like. She leaned back up and sat back in the seat, doctoring another drink but not drinking it yet. She raised the glass again, making one more toast, "Here's to you Jii...Elaithin...Elaithin...Jii or whichever way it goes, congratulations on your success. Hope you're happy."

"Letting off some steam."
By Commander Kent Peterson
Chief Science Officer

Kent skated as fast as he could until one of the holographic players ran in to him. The real man and the holographic one fell to the hard, icey surface of the holographic rink and slid at least two meters before collliding with the baracade surrounding the ice rink.

"Dammit!" Kent said angrily, removing his helmet and throwing it to one side.

The helmet slid along the ice towards one of the other holographic players as Peterson walked towards the man who collided with him. He too removed him helmet and activity started to brew between the other players and the holographic spectators as a fight loomed - noted when both men dropped their sticks on the ice.

Kent took a swing at his opponent until the mixture of forcefields and photons resembling a man took a swing back. They eventually did hit one another - not enough activity to trigger the holodeck safety protocols quite yet - until the entire holographic simulation froze. Frustrated at the safeties the scientist took a swing at his frozen opponent - anger now directed to the stupid computer - but his fist and arms diappeared through the humanoid shape.

At that moment everything seemed to come to mind - his relationship with Karyn, or lack thereof; the mission to Romulus they were not allowed to discuss; thoughts about having been used by elements within the Romulan heirarchy to provok a war with the Federation; having faced his own mortality; not able to tell Commander Thomas what an asshole he was before the younger man conveniently left; finding his quarters and officer ransacked by this newly encountered species calling themselves the Hirogen. It was why he was on the ice this particular time - to let off some steam.

Sighing for a moment he turned back around at the frozen faces in the crowd. Taking small steps he walked over an picked up his helmet, stick, and puck - all which were real - before heading back to where the arch was expected to appear. "Computer, save program and exit."

The computer complied and the program began to systematically shut itself down. Firs the players and spectators created by the computer disppeared, then the recreation of a stadium he used to play in disappeared. All that was now left was the black room lined with intersecting yellow lines.

Tired and exhausted he walked through the archway that led to the corridor on that deck.

Still dressed in his hockey jersey and equipment, Kent began to walk back towards the primary turboshaft which he would use to get back to his quarters on Deck Eight. He sported a few glances as he navigated his way through the corridors - either because they did not know why he was dressed like that or because they did not know he and the away team had returned.

Stepping in to the turbolift carriage he turned to face the entrance. "Deck Eight ..."

“Thought of London”
By Lancelot Grogan

Warning: This post holds m/m sexual relationship. In other words M/M sex. If this makes you want to puke, don’t read it. Not my fault. Also first introduction post of my new character, Lt. jg Lancelot Grogan in medical!

---London, 2371----

They do not love me, I do at least know that. They use me, as I use myself, and I let them do it. Some of them come every night, some of them come once a week, and some only ever come once. They flatter me and tell me how pretty I am. They caress my face and kiss me, and I know that it is all just an act. Below, they’re just waiting to fuck me. They never even ask my name, and I don’t care if they do. I never really cared.

It’s early now and I find myself naked and alone. All my customers have gone away, some of the other boys’ are still here. I tried pulling my blankets up, but I was too lazy to do it right. I think my ass is covered well enough. I don’t particularly care. I want a cigarette, but alas, I’m too lazy to get one.

Another one of the boys comes into the room. He doesn’t bother to try to be quiet about it. I don’t look to see who it is. It doesn’t matter after all, we’re all so impersonal with one another. We pretend to be friends, all knowing that we really aren’t. We use each other, and that is the extent of it. I hate them.

He walks over to where I lay, I feel him bend over me. He kisses the back of my neck, whispers to me what a little treasure I am. I know that I am attractive.

Probably not handsome. No, my face is too innocent to be called handsome. Cute is the word. He kisses my neck again, his hands slide over my bare skin. He is naked too, I can feel it. He leaves his trail of kisses down by back, taking my blanket away so he can see my naked body. I am too numb to care. I just let him watch and touch.

He lies down on top of me, I feel him pressing against my ass. I wonder what people would think of me if they knew what I did. Would they be so kind to a pretty face if they knew what was behind it? A wounded kid walking alone? A young man with money and style? And what a prize for money...But what else can a seventeen year old lad do here in London, alone?

The warm body on top of mine is still. He lays his head on my shoulder, kisses it a bit. His hair brushes against my skin, makes it tingle. He has soft hair. He has soft skin too. I can guess who it is, for I seem to know all these boys more by contact and touch than I do by their faces. I choose not to look at their faces. If I think too much about their faces, they start to become human to me. I start to feel attached to them, I start to hurt or see some of my own pain in them. I will then see them as people, not as shadows passing over and through me. If I knew and acknowledged that, I would lose something in myself.

This boy that is laying on me starts to tell me he loves me. He says he loves me because I am beautiful. He laughs when he tells me he is jealous of me for all the customers I get. He expects me to laugh too. I don’t laugh anymore, unless I am faking it. Well, I do laugh sometimes. Over simple things. Not over this.

He shifts his body and pushes inside of me. I arch my back because it hurts a bit. It always hurts at first, but it goes away quickly. Besides, his tool is not that big. Now I laugh a bit wryly and when he asks why, I do not tell him. His thrusts start slowly, he tries to be romantic. He thinks he is romantic, he is wrong. He speeds up without realizing it, he wants his own climax and cares nothing for mine. I won’t get one, I don’t want one, I don’t care.

As he is busy rocking his body against mine, I hear the door open. Another one of our “friends” is here. He laughs at the two of us. I look at him, but I don’t know who he is. It is too dark to tell. Would I care if I knew? Probably not. All I know is that he is naked like the rest of us, and in want of some more pleasure. They all think of nothing but pleasure. I wonder how long I can stand this.

He decides that he will join the two of us, resting on one knee behind the fervently thrusting boy on top of me. The sweat is dripping off of his forehead onto my back. Odd though, I’m chilled. The second boy refuses to wait, pushing inside of me with the other. I cry out. It hurts very much, and he is larger than the other boy. He seems satisfied that he got something out of me. I press my face into the pillow and whimper as they both use me for their pleasure.

Before long, they’re working as fast as they can, and I am crying. I hug my pillow to my chest and let it catch my tears and muffle my whimpers. My hands are clenching the material of it so tightly that my knuckles hurt. I am not afraid, but I am sad. I am sad because I am alone. I am sad because no one loves me. I want someone to love me. I want someone that I can cling to as I cling to this pillow. I want someone to caress my hair and make me stop crying when the world rapes me like these two boys.

I hate them, I wish them dead, but I do not stop them. They can drive themselves into a frenzy, spill their seed inside of me, and then go burn in hell. And when they are done, I will bathe and get dressed, and I will take the money I have earned tonight, and I will go have a drink. And maybe, maybe some day I can get out of here...

"Late. . Late... For a Very Important Date!" By Lt.Cmdr Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley

Stealing bits from That Aussie Guy's "Dog and pony show" post.

Stardate 50203.15
(main bridge)

~~There's -something- I'm supposed to be doing right now. . ..~~ Lysander mused as he fiddled with yet another 'How many Photon Torp strikes to reduce Starbase 415 to a glowing cinder?' firing solution, as the Flight Control Officers were manuevering the ship into the waiting berth.

Lysander ignored all the bustle of yet another ho-hum docking. He idly wondered if he should have laid odds with Leo Streely that Princess 'forgot' about the electronic mooring lines again. ~~Betcha -that- Academy Pinnace was retired after her cherry flight. . .~~ he mused, remembering her first time underway.

The tiny red head in question was sitting right in front of him, ignoring him totally. Again. "Secure mooring lines, Helm. Ops, notify 415 that we'll need power berthside. Secure ship for Secondary Operations mode. Captain to the Bridge." She said, in that ridiculous monotone she'd been affecting lately. At least she didn't puke.

As soon as he'd felt the slight 'jar' of the gangways locking and the confirm that they were berthed, Bhrode stomped out of his Ready Room and had his Senior Officers assemble. Lysander was puttering, locking down the Tac Arch, the skeleton 'Secondary Ops' crew taking stations.

~~Millionaire? Multi Billionaire? Googlaire? How the smeg rich -am- I now ? And how is the Princess going to take it? Will she be hap...?~~ he was pondering.

"Mister Longassed name? Coming? Or should I log yet another Senior Staff replacement in the Tactical Department?" Bhrode said from the turbolift car.

"No SIR!" barked out the daydreamer and Mister Longassedname hustled his longassed self into the car just as the doors shut. No one was saying anything. Lysander nudged closer to you-know-who, feeling her sholder hit him right below his ribcage. He ignored the fact that she sighed and inched away, closer to Bhrode. Life was good.

Of course, Lysander began whistling. Offkey. It may be annoying, but at least he's not -puking- in the enclosed space!

* * * *

(Ten Forward)

Funny, Lysander had just been here with Corgan. He slipped away from Captain Bhrode. Lots of other people seemed to have the same idea, some of the Junior officers were tripping over each other to clear the Lounge 'soonest possible.'

At the bar, Leo Streely was busy talking to the crewmembers that were standing near by. He kept taking out a datapad and trying to get them to look at it, some refusing, others taking it and tapping in some information. Lysander wondered if the little man was feeling well, as he was much less of an ass than usual. ~~Bhrode probally threatened him with the clink. Again.~~ Lysander mused.

Our boy was mildly shocked when the the doors to Ten Forward opened and Vice-Admiral T'Paal entered. In her company were Captain Robert Edward Lee Price, Commanders Karyn Dallas and Kent Peterson, and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin Jii. The entire energy of the room shifted dramatically when the Ausy company entered the lounge. Even Brhode acknowledged it. Everyone was glad to see their former commanding officer and friends.

Except Lysander.

"Smeg ME! I betcha the Princess gets bumped back to Tac Chief and I'm reduced to smooching her tiny-heiney. Again." he muttered to no one. Leo Streely, ever vigilant to changing odds. . . almost fell off his empty carton trying to climb over crew to get to Lysander and offer him 45-3 on that bet.

"Who're those guys with him?" Lysander mused, reflecting that the majority of crew who had left the ship after the 'General' had been re-assigned had done so feet first. Those that were left had been winnowed and refined. The chaff and deadwood was gone.

It was a whole new USS Galaxy. The 'new guys' had faced off the Hirogen, and a new Captain with equal panache and elan. What had those old duffers done lately?

"May I have everyone's attention please?" Vice-Admiral T'Paal asked to quiet the now noisy room. The Vulcan didn't need to wait long before her request was honored. The room hushed in a matter of moments as each person listened carefully with anticipation of what this was all about.

"Thank you. By order of Starfleet Command on this Stardate, 50203.15 Captain Price, Robert Edward Lee has been authorized to take command of the starship USS Galaxy, registration NCC- 70637. He will relieve Captain Brhode, John of all responsibilities and duties to commence immediately. Further, the officers Commander Dallas, Karyn, Commander Peterson, Kent and Lieutenant Commander Elaithin Jii are reassigned back to their former positions on board the USS Galaxy, registration NCC-70637. So ordered and signed, Admiral Nakamura, Starfleet Command and duly noted and witnessed by Vice-Admiral T'Paal on this day and time." The Vulcan Admiral read the order. T'Paal then looked over to Captain Brhode.

Behind the bar a quiet "YES!!!" could be heard being uttered by Leo Streely, but he was soon silenced by a disapproving glance from Vice-Admiral T'Paal.

Lysanders mouth hung open.

~~What the smeg? What was the point?~~ he mused. You fought tooth and nail to get where you are today, and some smegger comes back after a two month vacation to just pull the rug...wait... why hadn't they said anything about Rebecca? Bhrode and the Aussie were nattering around with the Command Code nonsense. . .Rebecca was no where to be seen in the crowd.

Typical of Leo, the drinks were 'on him' this one time. Lysander grabbed two flutes of Synth-champagne and set about looking for that damned little crimson head in the crowd.

"Are you sure about this 'mate? Do you really want to take this promotion?" Lee asked suddenly. Too loudly. The question hung in the crowded Lounge like a leaden balloon.

All eyes in the room turned to face the small inconspicuous figure that had been lurking about in the back of the room alone. Once upon a time such a sudden gathering of attention would have sent the butterflies to flight in her stomach, and dried up all ability to utter a coherent response.

~~There she is! What's this all about? At least she's not puking. . .~~~ Mused Lysander, trying to eel his way past a very fat little Security guy.

This was no longer the case however and the slim figure slipped smoothly from her chair and stood to reply.

"Captain Price," she began softly, her trademark whispery voice barely carrying over the distance across the lounge, "when I arrived barely a year ago, it was the intentions of . .. . . higher up to provide me with valuable learning opportunities aboard this ship that would one day enable me to understand the various intricacies of leadership and personal responsibility."

~~Liar. It was because you smeggin well screwed the pooch at Nal Harra.~~ thought Lysander, as he hissed "Pressley! Move your fat ass. . .coming through! Gangway!"

She paused a moment and stared out across the silent observant crowd seeing among them the familiar faces of friend and enemy alike.

"now.. ayuh.. don't be cruel Mistah Van Morrison... Mistah Van der Pulltab..Mistah Van der Puls Hawklover..." began the florid guy, his hair dye starting to run with his sweat inthe close packed room.

"I must confess that I DID learn aboard your ship, but unfortunately the demands of crisis has perhaps forced me to grow up TOO quickly." Rebecca was continuing.

"It's VanderPuls-Hawksley. . .and will you Move that rhinestone covered rump?" retorted Lysander, champagne sloshing over both hands as he tried to dance around in the crowd. A Tellurite was half-blocking his view of Rebecca.

"A lot has changed since you left sir," she continued softly, "Unfortunately I'm not the little girl you left in charge of Tactical. I'm XO now, and while I believe I have performed as expected," she flashed quick look at Lysander in the crowd, "I highly doubt you are going to let me remain in this spot. The Crew's dislike of me is rather apparent."

Mentally cursing Pressley, Tellerites, and all short species and red-headed women in general, Lysander caught only the LOOK. What the smeg had he done to her now? ~~Hell, shoot Bhrode AND Price and make the Princess Captain. At least we'd die together!~~ he mused. The diamond engagement ring he'd had replicated was weighing down the pocket of his tunic.

"The dilemma then is this . . ..I'd like to remain on as XO here . . . .but if not the choice is between returning to what I once was . . . .Chief Tactical Officer, or the opportunity to go forward and find out what exactly I may become."

She shook her head sadly, her longish red hair dancing gracefully about her shoulders. "I may not like who I am Captain . . . . but I have to know WHAT I am. I need to learn to be XO; If not here, then with Captain Brhode. He doesn't have the fears you do about my potential. I can't allow you hold me back here." Her brown eyes flickered briefly to meet the astonished gaze of James Corgan, then to the bewildered face of Lysander Hawksley, before settling on the smug grimace of John Brhode.

"Captain Brhode, you were the first person in Starfleet who accepted me for who I am without questions or reservations. You said 'I don't care if you stutter or puke Ernst, just get the job done like I know you can'. That meant a lot sir; and I think snapped me into a new realization of my destiny. For that I . . I . . I owe you and will serve with you."

Lysander was about to expose -that- for the precise sort of self-absorbed and frankly ignorant crap that it was . The florid face of Admiral Jurgen Hoth sprang to his mind, not to mention his own. Not having a photographic memory, he was ransacking the corners of his to try and remember if he'd ever told her how he felt, except for that damn interlude during the aftermath of the Hirogen battle.

She paused and looked back to Price. "W . .w. . .with y . . ..your permission of course s.s.s.sir."

"Cri-key 'mate. I really don't know what to say in response to that." Lee seemed to be pondering.

Lysander felt a sudden urge of hatred for Price.

"Nothing needs be said Captain. Just put your authorization code in there and..." Brhode began to dominate the conversation in hawk-like fashion.

~~'Ta for you Captain.~~ thought Lysander, who was STILL trying to get past Pressley with the remnants of two champagne flutes.

Captain Price silenced Brhode with a raised finger and a piercing glance indicating he wasn't through yet.

Walking past the rebuffed Brhode, Captain Price stopped in front of Von'Ernst and looked at her for a long moment. Rebecca, true to form; looked at her shoes.

~~ INCOMING! Incoming Projectile Vomit at Heading 90, Mark 002 Sir! Reccomend Retrograde manuever Alpha Seven~~ mused a rebellious part of Lysander's brain.

To Lysander's shock, Price did the dumbest thing possible. The Captain tapped in his authorization and handed the padd to Von'Ernst. "It's been a honor serving with you Commander."

Lysanders guts seized up faster than Bhrode's glare ever made them do it before.

Acknowledging The General's reply with a slight nod and a blush, Rebecca reverted briefly into her shy nature, and timidly fidgeted for a moment before handing the padd to Captain Brhode and then quickly finding her seat again, sinking back into the anonymousness of the crowd.

Except for one pair of shocked, betrayed and burning eyes, belonging to the tall, crooked nosed guy cutting an intercept course through the crowd for her.

T'Paal took the datapadd and reviewed it quickly.

Captain Brhode turned and faced *full* Commander Von'Ernst. "I'll expect you to report to Earth and be ready for duty in three weeks Commander!"

Rebecca saw Captain Price looking at her for an explanation. She quietly provided one by simply saying, "I have shore leave coming..."

Shore leave. . . yeah. . . he was overddue for some as well.

"I believe that concludes our business here gentlemen." Vice- Admiral T'Paal stated glancing up from the padd and looking at Captain Price and then Captain Brhode before adding with Vulcan sarcasm, "Unless there are any more last minute transfer requests you intend to make Captain?"

Lysander was about to request permission to transfer. But that damned Pressley chose that exact moment to 'bust a move' and jostled Lysanders' elbow with the top of his greasy looking pompadour as he did 'the Pull' manuever. Synth- Champagne slopped all over Lysanders' chest and jacket.

Brhode looked around the Lounge for a moment, searching for 'volunteers.' or anyone not laughing at his jokes. ~~ Funny, where's the Boy Wonder? I'd have thought he'd want to come along. . .~~ he mused for a moment in the momentary silence that fell over the Ten Forward lounge once again.

Not seeing Lysander in the crowd, Bhrode killed the silence. "No Admiral. We can leave at any time."

Crazy Corgan led the duo out. Lysander came up from his brief arguement witht he tubby Security Ensign and saw only a swirl of people around the door. He assumed Rebecca was with Bhrode, and he pelted after the little party.

"Welcome home Captain!" some idiot was yelling as the hatchway closed behind him.

Catching up with the small group at the Turbolift car, Lysander was amazed that Rebecca wasn't with them. Oh well, plenty of time for the honeymoon later. . .

"I see that you gave this officer yet another of your 'field promotions' Captian Bhrode" said the tacturn faced Vulcam woman Flag Officer, noticing Lysanders silver pip.

"Aye. Where were you right just now Mister?" barked Bhrode, sniffing the unmistakable smell of the spilled Synth- Champagne that wafted out with Lysander, hanging in a fugue around him.

"SIR Permissiontorerquesttransfertojointhe Captainonhisnextdutyassignemntsir?" rattled off Lysander, in an 'attention' position that would have amazed the Academy instructors.

Crazy Corgan goggled, and diverted his attention to the turbolift panel.

Bhrode searched Lysanders' face for a long moment.

"I hear you've come into some money?" he finally ventured.

"Ummm.. some sir. But I feel that my abilities as a Tactical Officer won't be stretched or developed under Captain Price. Sir. Everyone knows that Tactical is one of the last steps before Command School, and thanks to Admiral Hoth, both Commander Von Enrst and myself had access to most of the materials of the. . ."

"Why does that name begin to raise the faintest tinge of irritation?" asked the Admiral of Bhrode. Then she diverted her vulcan gaze to Lysander.

"You. You served under my half-sister, Commodore T'Paal at Gor'Vosh station in the Delta Quadrant. Then you served under Captain Nils on the City of Saint Louis, didn't you? Haven't you seen enough blood?" T'pall here turned to Bhrode.

"I have aceeded to Jurgen Hoth and his. . . ideas. Quite enough. The man's reach exceeds his grasp. This officer, and Von Enrst and any other requesting to serve with you, John, will have to take two weeks to think it all over. Mister, Hawksley wasn't it?"

"Close enough Admiral." said Lysander, trying to ignore the smothered cough from Corgan.

"You also get two weeks shoreleave. At the conclusion of that, you decide if you feel you have a future in Starfleet, and under which Commanding Officer. Assuming that you realize that the needs of the Fleet take priority over your or Captain Bhrode's. . . personal feelings. Dismissed. And next time, go through channels. This is decidedly. . . irregular." she said, before sweeping Bhrode and Corgan off, to leave the ship.

Lysander caught Bhrode's eyes for a moment, and then he snapped a textbook perfect 'Salute.'

He was a little shocked when Bhrode winked and returned it, as the doors closed.

Lysander turned back to the hatchway to Ten-Forward. The diamond engagement ring in his pocket feeling like it was pulling him almost to the deckplates.

~~A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.~~ he mused, tugging his tunic down in a gesture he'd seen somewhere before.

That's when Zarides paged him to remind him that he'd scheduled a Tactical Department meeting ten minutes ago, and could he PLEASE get to it, before Ensign Sendi killed Ensign Black?

~~THAT was what he'd forgotten~~ he mused, bypassing the turbolift for a nearby Jeffries Tube in the interest of speed.

The smeggin' Princess could wait. It wasn't like she'd actually leave the ship without saying 'goodbye?' Right?

"Aftermath"

By Lt. Sardar, OPS &
Lt. Salt, Security - NPC
Doctor Martin (EMH2) - NPC

Dr. Martin was one busy holographic doctor. After surviving their encounter with the Hirogens, she had been doing nothing but treating and patching up wounded crewmembers of the USS Galaxy. After attending to a Ensign with a badly broken leg and head injury, she turned to the moved to next bio-bed to treat another patient in order of priority.

She immediately came to dead stop, puzzled at the sight before her. "What is this?"

Her patient was Lt. Sardar, was dressed partially in Hirogen armor. The Sarrahban looked anything but a happy camper. "Don't asked me..." Then threw an angry glanced at the small blond next to her. "Ask HER!"

Lt. Salt held up her hands defensively. "Hey! You agreed to my plan and besides you were the only one tall enough to pass for a Hirogen and fit into the suit."

"I barely fitted into the suit." Sardar replied sternly, remembering how many pillows they used for stuffing when she placed on the huge chest armor.

"But it worked." Salt assured her.

"I got SHOT!"

"It could had been worse."

Dr. Martin just watched the exchange for a moment between the Human and the Sarrahban with slight amusement. For a second, she thought that Lt. Sardar was going to leap off the bio-bed to get at Lt. Salt. The EMH2 decided to place a hand on Sardar shoulder to prevent such a possibility.

"How could it been worse?" Sardar was hissing through her clinched teeth. Fighting the urge to scream at her.

Lt. Salt thought about it for a second or two before replying. "Well, one of the crew could had shot you instead of the Hirogens."

"Come here." Sardar growled, gesturing with her index finger, beckoning the blond Human to come towards her. "Come HERE!!"

With a frightful look, Lt. Salt actually took a step backwards. "Uh. No."

"Come here, I won't hurt you." Sardar grin evilly.

"Okay, that's enough." Dr. Martin finally stepped in, gaining Sardar's attention. "I understand that you were wounded in the leg?"

"Yes." Sardar said, calming down slightly. "The left leg."

Dr. Martin inspected Sardar's left leg which she was still wearing the Hirogen leg armor on. Just about the lower thigh area was a burn mark that pierced the protective armor.

"You'll have to cut the armor off Doctor, the metal together was melted by the Hirogen weapon." Sardar informed. "It won't come off."

"Are you in pain?" Dr. Martin asked in amazement. The Sarrahban was showing little signs of pain beyond her obvious temper.

"Enormous pain, Doctor." Sardar confessed.

Dr. Martin quickly picked up the hyprospray from a nearby medical cart and gave Sardar something to dull the pain. "Is that better?"

"Much better." Sardar sighed briefly. "Thank you."

With a nod, Dr. Martin immediately set to work on remove the armor with a fine laser scalpel in order to reach Sardar's wound. As the EMH2 worked, Salt edged closer to the Sarrahban.

"Uh. Sardar. Are we okay?"

Without warning, Sardar's hand lashed out like a stroke cobra, grabbing Salt by the back of neck. The Human was pulled in close by the now smiling Sarrahban.

"We are good," Sardar said to the uneasy Human. "But next time, we'll do my plan."

Salt laughed nervously. "Let me guess. I get to be decoy girl."

Sardar chuckled, releasing her. "I can not stay mad at you, annoying as you might be."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm not finished."

"Oh." Salt couldn't wait to hear the rest.

"I couldn't had done as much as I did against the Hirogens without your help. Thank you."

"Hey, what are friends for." Salt said, as Dr. Martin finally freed Sardar's wounded left leg from the Hirogen armor. The Human saw the Sarrahban's wound and almost went pale. The smell from the would was bad as the very sight of it.

Dr. Martin examined the wound area closely. "Some second and third degree burns, with limited deep muscle and tissue damage. You may have to return here daily for regeneration treatment for a few days until it completely heals, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, doctor." Sardar said gratefully, unbothered by the less than pretty wound she suffered.

The EMH2 was about to start tending to Sardar's wound when she notice Salt who was steadily turning paler. "Are you well, Lieutenant?"

"Me! What makes you say that?" Salt laughed, although she felt like tossing her cookies at the sight of Sardar's ugly burnt flesh. "I'm good."

With a shrug, Dr. Martin starting working, while Sardar looked at her friend worried. "You don't have to stay."

"No, like I said, I'm good." Salt said, then saw Dr. Martin readying a laser scalpel to remove the dead and burnt flesh from Sardar's leg. "Then again, I'll wait outside."

"First Day of Vacation"

Starring:
Commander Rebecca von Ernst
Executive Officer USS Prospero

(Deck 13)

Casually dressed in her fluffy Class of '74 Academy sweats, Rebecca von Ernst (Full Commander -None of that sissy 'brevet' stuff) lounged lazily on the plush leather sofa that sat bathed in the blue-hued lighting provided by the wall to wall window looking out upon the ship 's Primary Cetacean Research Tanks.

The Galaxy was well provided with various lounge rooms and recreation facilities, and Holosuites, but from the first moment she discovered it, the Whale tanks had held a certain fascination for the little farmgirl form Minnesota. It was by far her most favorite place on the entire ship.

First and foremost was for the reason that the relative seclusion of the tanks made for a silent, private get-away apart from the hustle and bustle of daily Starship living. She tended to avoid all social contact when ever possible, and the isolation of the Lounge made for a perfect escape.

Not that Rebecca had to worry about the hustle and bustle anymore now.

With her recent appointment as new Executive Officer aboard the Excelsior Class USS Prospero under John Brhode, she had therefore been relieved of all duties aboard the Galaxy and was relegated to mere 'passenger' status until they reached Starbase 415 and she could begin her shore long overdue shoreleave.

Following a two week stay on Earth she would rendezvous with Prospero, and assume the heavy mantle given her from on high. She prayed silently she was worthy.

But for now, however there was nothing to do. No duty. No Bridge shifts. No uniforms. Just 100% leisure time.

Idly wiggling her toes as she watched the graceful ballet of the undersea leviathans on the other side of the glass Rebecca stifled a yawn and snuggled down deeper into the couch's welcoming softness. . .

Truth was she was more than a bit bored with nothing to do, and could very well fall asleep here what with the dim lights, and the hypnotic gurgling of the Aquarium's automatic filters.

Yawning yet again Rebecca stretched out lengthwise on the couch and tucked both her tiny hands underneath her cheek like a innocent little child, a contented smile crossing her freckled cheeks where the faint scar of a recent injury could still be seen.

Amos and Andy, the Galaxy's two prized Humpback Whales, spun lazily in their space-going habitat, blissfully unaware of the concerns of the world about them. It may confuse some to think of why a Starship would devote so much precious space and resources to support such large biological specimens and drag them from one end of the Milky Way to the other, but there actually was a very real and scientific reason for it:

Ever since the near-disaster in the 23rd Century with the so-called Whalesong Probe, Humanity came to understand that there was more to their sea-bred neighbors than met the eye.

In fact, the innate and complex navigational senses that guided the whales safely from point to point on the globe, also served as a rather accurate navigational aide in the 3-d realm of spaceflight as well. Freed of the confining and confusing distortions caused by a planetary gravitational field, the whales senses crystallized into a finely tuned Navigation system that allowed them to pinpoint with incredible accuracy, their exact location within the universe.

It was a simple matter then for some of the members of the crew with empathic abilities (Vulcans, Deltans, Betazoids) to communicate telepathically with Amos and Andy to 'translate' their impressions into usable navigational data.

Rebecca just thought they were cute.

* * * * * * *

30 minutes and a short cat-nap later, Rebecca shook herself awake to find herself still quite alone in the Lounge (most of the other crew were busy with repairs to the ship) and still quite bored out of her skull.

Now that she was no longer officially a member of the crew, there wasn 't even the need to do the usual paperwork that constantly was being demanded by the immense Fleet Bureaucracy.

Likewise there was no need to review the design specifications of her new assignment, the Prospero, because she had trained extensively on the Excelsior Class while at the Academy. And for Rebecca as always, a thing once learned was with her forever. . . .

~~~Well there are those crew Rosters back up in your room Noodlehead.~~~ she reminded herself lazily, ~~~You could be trying to remember the faces of the people you'll be working with from now on.~~~

She contemplated that idea for a few moments before yawning and dismissing it. ~~~Not yet. . . I still have a few weeks.~~~

There were some other housekeeping chores still to be done aboard Galaxy she supposed. Things like tidying up her Cabin, and having the furniture recycled back into the replicators for the next person to use. Her kitchen was still a hopeless mess, and the bathroom mirror needed a good scrubbing too, but again she dismissed these concerns out of hand. Today she just felt like doing NOTHING.

After all it was better to be doing nothing and be bored, than to have to clean house, and not be bored.

~~~Enough of this.~~~ she rose to a sitting position and stretched, shaking the cobwebs from her still sleeping mind. ~~~You're on a ship designed to keep 1,000 people amused for ten years at a time. . . ..surely you can find SOMETHING to do.~~~

Smiling a silent goodbye to her whale buddies, Rebecca strode out of the lounge and into the well lit corridors of Deck 13 where she wandered slowly and aimlessly for a bit unsure of where to go next.

How strange to stroll along without a care in the world. How unusual to go at your own pace instead of being in a hurry to get somewhere on some vital errand.

Snagging a passing Turbolift, Rebecca hopped aboard and rode it up to Deck Ten. She pointedly ignored the two uniformed Ensigns who nervously ceased their idle chatter as soon as she stepped aboard. Even dressed in simple sweats, Rebecca's short Red haired stature was well recognized throughout the ship.

~~~How odd.~~~ she reflected sadly ~~~When did I become the one who inspired fear in junior officers, instead of the other way around?~~~

The uncomfortable silence of the ride was soon over, and the doors hissed shut behind Rebecca leaving her to wander the expansive corridors of the largest deck on the vessel.

She avoidedTen Forward like the plague . . . . too many people there, and there were much better places to get a bite to eat. She didn't drink either, so what was the point?

She almost passed the holodecks without a second glance . . . she had never really been fond of the technological marvels that seemed to be the center of everyone else's life, but something made her stop and take another look.

Why not? She WAS on vacation supposedly, and with Brhode gone, there was no longer the ban on recreational use.

Finding the suite unoccupied she keyed the entry panel, and waited as the heavy doors ground open slowly with a loud moan. ~~~What is it about the holodeck doors that makes you wonder why they never get oiled properly?~~~ she wondered idly as she stepped into the black and yellow grid.

"Okay Computer," she began, an evil grin crossing her face, "Listen up because here's what we're gonna do. . . . . . ."

"Redlight"
by Lt j/g Arel Smith
npc 'Ensign Gregor'

She deflected the blow with her arms but the force of it threw her on her back and the Hirogen followed, pinning her legs to the ground by sitting on her with his knees. The knife came rushing down...

"Get off me!" Arel Smith yelped, pushing a startled Ensign Gregor back with all her might and scrambling backwards to an empty corner in the gym.

"Are you alright, Lt. Smith?" the young ensign asked in concern. He had gone to the gymnazium to get back to into his normal routine and aparently so had she. Gregor had come across the lieutenant beating the crap out of a punching bag older than time itself and had challenged her to a friendly sparring match. She had been fine, taunting him even, until he had pinned her.

Now from her corner she looked scarred.

"Of course" she said with a shaky little laugh."I just...wasn't paying attention. I should have seen the sweep coming and the kn...it..it just came out of nowhere."

"Hate it when that happens." Ensign Gregor said calmly. The lieutenant was obviously not good at on-the-spot lying. And he hadn't used a leg sweep. He had, in essence, body slammed her to the ground. Hey, whatever worked.

Arel Smith brushed back an invisible strand of hair and gave a poor attempt at a smile. Probably poor because it appearead she was having trouble breathing. Gregor was tempted to say something but he had heard about her temper, even if her bark was worse than her bite. It would probably be better to play along.

"If you'll excuse me. I..I've forgotten the time." Arel lied badly. "I need to be somewhere, sorry."

"Of course." Gregor said pleasently.

Arel looked startled for a nano-second and then nodded briefly. She left the gym quickly and without looking back.

Gregor tapped his com-badge. "Ensign Gregor to Lt. Drakely."

::Drakely here::

"You're friends with Arel Smith, right?"

* * * * *

Something was not right.

Arel's hands were trembling as she walked unsteadily down the hall. So she crossed her arms to hide them but that only seemed to make it worse.

...so she let the cub bind her hands because she had been ordered to. Of course, she couldn't stop herself from pulling and tugging on them when they were bound and found that they were secure. She wouldn't be free anytime soon...

Arel shook her head, as if she could shake the memory from her head. She just wanted to go back to her quarters where she could get some sleep. The problem was that she hadn't been able to sleep and it had been a long shift. She was just a little tired, that was all. There had been some bad dreams where the Hirogen had

...driven the knife through her shoulder, effectively pinning her to the soft earth. Arel looked in horror at the Hirogen as he grinned down at her...

Again Arel shook her head but again it did no good.

...The Hirogen grinned...

"Stop it, 'Rel!" she snapped and then clamped her shaking hands over her mouth. She stopped moving and glanced around carefully. There was no one around. She let out a breath she didnt know she had kept in.

Her relief faded as she realized that she was alone. For once, that bothered her. The ship was so quiet like when she had been on the planet and

...all she could hear was her breath and her heartbeat... now the ships walls suddenly seemed oppressive, closing in on her like the forest had

...seemed to be growing around her, like leafy claws ready to grab. She pushed another irritating oversized leaf out of her way, only to have it replaced by another...

Arel growled at herself and resumed walking. But you weren't by yourself for long, Arel told herself as calmly. You had Samantha, didn't you? She certainly was there, talking about her horrible mother every minute of every day, when she wasn't trying to plan the next fifty years of your life. And there was the idiot and the reporter and the newts...can't forget the newts, can we? And there was that bitch and

...the leaf was pushed back to reveal the Hirogen hunter, looking at her with some kind of misplaced pride. "Now you are mine, prey" he said with a grin, one knife of four ready in his hand...

"He's dead", she snapped after looking up and down the deck for people. "He can't hurt you so get over it"

...The Hirogen grinned...

"Like I said" she said through gritted teeth. "He is dead."

... The sharp rock cut her wrists once more and Arel cursed in frustration. She was never going to get these ropes off!...

Arel shook her head a third time "But you did." She didn't realize that she had long ago stopped moving and was now standing in the hallway with her arms wrapped around herself. The air was thin as if the oxygen had suddenly been diverted to another deck. Arel

..gasped and then looked with wide eyes at the handle sticking out of her shoulder. Out of her flesh...

"Pain means that you are alive." she told herself, forcing her lungs to move in air.

...The Hirogen followed, pinning her with his knees...

"Damnit, he's dead!"

...Arel had to bite her lip from screaming as the pain ran down her arm. The knife did not budge...

"It's not there now." she said through still clenched teeth.

...I can't get free...

But you did.

...It hurts...

Not anymore.

...I can't move...

She tried to move but movement made it even harder to breathe, like the Hirogen had suddenly sprung back to life and was now sitting on her chest. A cold knot of fear twisted in her stomach.

...I can't move, can't move...

Yes you can.

...I can't move...

Arel hardly felt herself slide to the floor and it was awhile before she noticed. She again tried to stand but her legs colapsed under her.

I really can't move, she thought in amazement.

...The Hirogen grinned...

and the weight on her chest seemed to lift even though Arel gasped for air like there was no tommorow. She was begining to feel lightheaded now, her fingers tingly.

Am I hyperventilating? some rational part of her asked. I have to move. There coming, the not so rational part replied.

"Arel?" A voice called from somewhere.

"Can't br.." She wheezed to whoever was there.

She couldn't see the person, there were too many leaves.

tbc