"The Security Officer's View"

Captain William Sutherland
Lieutenant JG Victor Kreighoff

****

****

"Nonsensicles"

Captain Alanna Elyse O'Ryan,
Commanding Officer, USS Hawkwing

Commander Lysander VanderPuls Hawksley,
Executive Officer

- Main Conference Room, USS Galaxy -

Lysander was jittering around in the hard seat. His right leg was tapping a stattaco rhythm on the edge of the table and his eyes were darting everywhere but directly at the officer in front of him.

Captain Alanna O'Ryan wasn't impressed. She's seen academy fresh ensigns who'd just juggled their careers into the head act more controlled in the presense of a superior officer from a review board. Admittedly, not too much more controlled, but this... Commander Hawksley, seemed to be particularly fidgety. And was he about to wet himself?....

"Please, state your name. And do try to be comfortable. You're not being charged," O'Ryan said, taking a certain devilish delight in the unspoken 'yet' which was no doubt going through his mind.

Lysanders eyes flitted from side to side, like trapped glimmerflies. "Errr.... smeg. Isn't my name officially in my record? What sort of smegging investigation is this, you don't even know my smegging name and whatnot?" he intoned in a lazy drawl, which he marred by a nervous attempt to polish his fingernails and keep his jittering leg under control.

"For the record, Mr. Hawksley. Surely you've been through this one before," she thought to herself. On the other hand, he'd only been a Lieutenant two years previously, and not even an assistant department head. Perhaps his meteoric rise had been in error.

"Lysander errr.... Willem Michel Brian Phillip Arthur.... err.. George...err... VanderPuls Hawksley." Lysander muttered. He glanced at her rougishly from under his sandy brows, through the fringe of artfully arranged hair. 'The Fourth" he added, non helpfully with a smirk.

"Right," she said, as if telling him he was correct. ~Why did Taryn get all the easy cases,~ she found herself wondering. ~What a useless fruitloop. How did somebody so... mentally unsound... get this high in the chain of command?~ "Where are you from?" she caught herself thinking aloud, but it was too late.

"Errr.. I'm Alpha Centaurian. Well, my father was. Mummy was Terran. But no smegging Klingons in the old family gene pool for ME! Isn't this all in your files?"

"Well, yes, now then, moving right along, what's your position on this vessel, for the record," she said, trudging on through the torrent of nonsense and illogic.

"I'm the bloody smegging XO. I used to be the Co-Xo but then SOME people managed to get their cute lil freckled noses right up not-to-be-named Admirals bums and ...errrrr... we haven't heard from them for a while. Smegging Princess..." he muttered.

"Excuse me, Commander?" O'Ryan said, cocking her head to one side. ~Useless knowledge... Must resist fist of death!~ This was going to be a long one.

"Commander!" Lysander barked out. "I am a smegging FULL Commander now. Even though SOME people seem to get promoted every time you turn around. Really.. you should read the Biography files sometime. It's not smegging difficult, even though SOMEONE seems to have filed all the smegging Engineers records under the phrase "Bhrode-Bait" for some reason..." Lys. nattered on, back ont he familiar ground of 'Rebecca and her Problems.'

"What?" O'Ryan muttered, becoming steadily more confused, "I never said that you weren't... I mean... Oh never mind... Rebecca who?"

"Commander Von Ernst? I dunno.... I remember her around when the smegging Orion ship pulled up. I was errr... busy with.. er.... something." Lysander studied the sole of his shoe with nonchalance.

"Right," she said, this time more hesitantly, "And your serial number. Last question for the record, I swear."

"Serial number? I have ENOUGH trouble remembering my smegging names!" Lysander drawled. "Although I DO recall, that if you take the Fibbinacci Sequence closest to Rebecca's Fleet Serial Number, and multiply it by the Prime Meridian and then use a Fifth Dimensional Cosine of the modulated result, divided by the average weight of an Angeridian Swallow, and add six to that, you get my Serial number. Or you could just look in the Bio Folder." He added with a boyish smirk.

"Never mind, I'll do it myself," Alanna shook her head. She'd been foolish enough to try the calculation and gotten about as far as the Prime Meridian before realizing that a Prime Meridian was an imaginary geographical line and that she didn't know this... Rebecca. Or did he mean Commander Von Ernst?

"Now then Commander, can you give me your interpretation of events from when you left Ianjep to the present," she asked, hoping to god he could do it coherently.

"Oh. See.. this smegging Orion shuttle came in like WHOOSH" and here Lys. made a wild waggling gesture with one hand. "And some others came in chasing it like WHISSSH! " and Lys supplied the sound of phaser salvoes, as his other hand described erratic flight paths all around the original hand. "And THEN the first shuttle did like WHIIIIIQSH.." as he described an erratic swooping arc with the first hand. 'But they were ready for that and they went FWOOOP and BUBBAKAPOWWWOWWIE and alll sort of FWIPPERRY..like this!"

Lysander had vaulted to the desktop, to better describe the subspace dogfight paths. His hands were flying around each other and he was enraptured in his mimicry of the noises of howling drives and overloaded shield and weapons systms.

He stopped in mid-gesture and eyed the JAG officer.

"Errr...where was I?" he demanded irritably.

"Your actions during those events?" she said with a sigh. This would probably be useless, she said, running a hand through her red hair. Nothing could probably be extracted from this to stand up at a hearing.

"Oh. I was with this Nurse. Err.. at the EXACT moment.. Commander Von Ernst was still Co-XO and had the Watch Detail. I had my right hand down the Nurses tunic like THIS..." And Lys hopped off the desk and started to carress the back of his chair. " And she said....err.. the Nurse, not Commander Von Ernst...SHE said it was a Red Alert and I had to be on the Bridge...so she said.. err. .the Nurse, not Rebecca...."

"Who did you see doing what during those events?" she interjected, then regretted it as soon as she had said it. He would no doubt go into another discourse on that one... ~Try not to kill yourself, Alanna. It's not that bad, is it?~ she asked herself.

"Errr... a gentleman wouldn't say what he say in such an intimite moment, but I -will- say they were natural and not surgically augmented.... OH! On the Bridge, what did I see? Err..... Commander Von Ernst... smegging Princess.. was making some long winded speech about something or other and going on and on and on and on, like she does.. and err... actually I glossed over that last bit, sort of lost the old focus, I never listen to her, yah know? Captain Bhrode was yelling at an Engineer. I don't remember which one, they all come and go so suddenly... but they were wearing yellow and pissing themselves, so it must have been an Engineer. Or OPS. And... errr... Admiral Henderson was at Tactical... I think... wait.. is the smegger an Admiral yet? Someone with a british accent was up there... err.. I wasn't really paying attention. And I fell down and the next thing I know, I was in Sickbay." Lys. wound down with that.

"Okay! Commander Von Ernst was on the bridge. Commander Von Ernst was speaking. You were not istening. Captain Bhrode was reprimanding an engineer. Lieutenant Henderson was at tactical. No, Lieutenant Henderson isn't an admiral yet. Lieutenant Henderson has a british accent. You wound up in sickbay. Right? Of course, right!" Alanna hammered out each fact in repitition of the commander.

"Errr? Pardon?" Lys asked, clearly trying to peek at Rebecca's file under his own, open on the desk before the other officer.

"Is there anything you would have done differently in hindsight?" O'Ryan asked, shaking her head and mentally swearing about the things she did for duty.

"Well, the whole proposal thing was mishandled. And.. err.. I'd be alot nicer to her.. OH! With the Orions? yes! Jolly well, how did the smeggers get aboard a Federation ship in the first place? One moment, it was all fun and hailing frequencies, THEN it was phaser fights in the halls, THEN these smegging beautiful women all over... dashed confusing for a chappie. I mean.. there I was, hand down her tunic and the NEXT thing I know, we have new crew, Rebecca is some Diplomatic Liasion Offcer and I'm stuck with the XO job and there's smegging Leo and the Fembots in my sonic shower." Lys. nattered on, clearly still pondering Rebecca.

"So, is there anything you still want to see happen?" she wondered, not really listening any more.

"Well.. I'd like to see the question be answered as to WHY the Orions were shooting up the ship, when everyone KNOWS they're members of the Federation! I mean.. dashed confusing! And what happened to Rebecca? or that Engineer? Or even that nice Sinovean Security Officer who ripped the faces off some Orions? And those femmebots!"

"Huh? Oh, what?" she said, looking up, "Sorry.... Ahm... That'll... Yes, I do belive that'll be all, Commander Hawksley. You have a nice day, now," she sighed to herself. The very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very strange man got up and left, apparently finished.

Alanna O'Ryan's head thudded onto her table with a resounding thud.

"Ouch."

"Superiority Complex"

Rear Admiral Leigh Whitman, Ciutric Sector JAG Official
Lieutenant Taryn Ehlanna Benedor, Chief Of Staff
Lieutenant Commander Vladimir Malgin, Chief Medical Officer

-Conference Room 1-

Taryn Benedor was now of the opinion that she would truly love to get this entire thing over with. After listening to Captain Bhrode and Legate Curran's explanations, then Bolivar's... she was remembering why she preferred field intelligence over diplomatic work and internal affairs. This was going to get messy.

Rear Admiral Whitman pursed her lips and pushed some brown hair back into place. "Send in Doctor Malgin. Let's try and keep this one quick so that he can get back to developing the innoculation."

"Lieutenant Commander Malgin, you're up." Taryn said into the communications unit to the waiting room. The young russian man entered and Lee' nodded to him to have a seat.

~Annoying... Why can't all those JAGs-shmucks wait till I am ready? Can't understand... My verdict is that they are the same kind of idiots as Bhrode and Company...~ thought russian chief doctor, coming in and taking a seat. He bit his lower lip to keep those words away from tongue, then said "Well, sir. I am eager to know why have I been asked to come here. It is really interesting and intriguing for me."

He tried to look solid and self-assured, but his annoying subconsciousness didn't stay turned off and whispered nasty thoughts to him ~... However I can guess what might JAG need from me - to say that I surpassed few hundreds of Federation laws, few Starfleet directives, have anti-Bhrode sort of mind, et cetera, et cetera...~ Vladimir shook his head to make it shut up and listened to admiral.

"Lieutenant Commander Malgin, have a seat," Lieutenant Benedor smiled politely,indicating the seat opposit of herself and Rear Admiral Whitman. The man looked positively stiff as a board. He seemed to be holding something just below the surface, or at least that was what Taryn's well trained eye told her.

Rear Admiral Leigh Whitman nodded, "We'll only be keeping you for about a half-hour, during which time I'm certain your assistant will be able to hold things down. Now then, this conversation will be recorded to aide us in the making of a decision regarding the future of Mr. Mudd and his androids. I'm going to ask you for a general summary of the events that you've had experience with, then I will get specific. that said, can you describe what experiences you've had since the arrival of Mr. Mudd and his androids." Taryn, meanwhile, began recording.

"Hmph..." was the first thing Malgin said. The second thing was the same. Then,after about fifteen seconds of thoughts, Vladimir finally said something normal "Well, I think that I can name it like hell. Mister Mudd's androids have affected personnel, creating some sorts of..." he thought, searching for a good word to replace word 'sex', but without success "sexual attraction to them. Most of the crew were affected and you can imagine what sort of mess it was." Vladimir shuddered, then gave a kind of 'But I am the best' smile "But I can proudly say that most of medical crew was in normal enough condition. I think this tirade of mine fits word 'summary'..." Malgin stopped and looked at Admiral Whitman.

"Something like that, Mr. Malgin. Can you explain to us the medical affect that the androids have on the male personnel, in a more detailed fashion," she said, while Taryn looked at the Russian man thoughtfuly.

"More detailed?" re-asked chief doctor. "Let's remember. Speaking in medical language - it created attraction of sexual sort by usage of pheromones. I think I don't need to explain what this word means. As you know, sexual instincts are the most powerful in male organism, thus somewhat suppressing normal thoughts."

"Very well," Taryn nodded, "And how did you propose, initially to deal with this?" This would give her a real perspective on what was going on here. All of this was so strange.

Malgin cleared his throat before continuing. ~Damn, now I understand what all this was for...~ he thought, then, with sigh, continued "Well, Lieutenant Fienberg and me though for some time, as we understood that problem is to be resolved. And the only suitabe solution was to make testosterone, male sexual hormone, producing cells shut down. This would have locked the male sexual instincts. Of course the side effect would be temporary... Don't know the word... 'Femaling'?.. of male crew. But this side effect would would disappear just as our medicine wears off..."

"Temporary femaling?" Taryn's eyes narrowed, "According to the projections of our staff physician, Lieutenant Commander Doctor Lamarque, over 30% of the men would have died, due to the loss of normal functions as a result of the loss of testosterone. The rest would never have been able to reproduce, yourself included, Doctor. Justify that."

~Court Martial... That's what I will get...~ thought CMO and after a sigh almost agreed mentally with this fate and continued his explanations.

"Um, well, our serum was planned not to... Strip males of their male hormones, but only to lower the level of testosterone in blood. Thus it will not lower the level to the death level..." But slowly Vladimir began to boil "... And I don't care what your staff physician, Mister Blah-blah-marque says - I am the authority onboard the USS Galaxy and I came to conclusion that the serum will NOT be harmful. I took the responsibility, so if you will punish anybody, this 'anybody' will be only me, but not my personnel. And if you still consider my point of view incorrect, then I am ready to accept everything - I don't care what you impose on me - I will just send a note of resigning my position to Captain Bhrode, leave Starfleet and that's all!" CMO's face turned bright shade of red as he said these words.

Taryn stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair. Had he really just yelled at her... In the presence of an Admiral... On a point he had to know was unwinnable? She blinked, "Good god, man! What is it about USS Galaxy crewmembers that makes them think they can yell at Admirals! She is three steps from god, allowing for Fleet Admirals, Admirals, and Vice Admirals. Now get the hell out of my presense before I kick you out! I will come get you myself if I even think your soul is worth saving! Now go crawl back to your sickbay."

Malgin blinked, then skuttled from the room.

"I'm sorry, I overdid that." Taryn immediately turned to Admiral Whitman.

"No, don't bother. I'm a little concerned. While I don't think I can formally do anything about Mr. Malgin, I assure you I intend to order him into counseling for his... how can I say it other than... superiority complex."

"Right. Next."

"All F**ked Up"

Rear Admiral Leigh Deirdre Whitman, Ciutric Sector JAG Official
Lieutenant Taryn Ehlanna Benedor, Chief Of Staff (RA Whitman)
Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan, Chief Security Officer

-Main Conference Room, USS Galaxy-

Whitman looked at Benedor and Taryn simply shook her head.  The others were unbelievable.  Was this an actual navy ship?  It was all so... inconceivable.  And yet it was.  A doctor who had nearly killed every man and boy on the ship.  A captain who hadn't been able to do a thing to prevent this mess.  A legate who was crippled by a teleporter and nobody bothered to not use one on him.  An intelligence officer who seemed to think himself invincible.

"Security?" she asked Whitman.

"Yes.  Go ahead and bring 'Commander Corgan in.  He coordinated the defense of the ship, so perhaps he will have some answers for us about the capabilities of the androids, or even the Orions," Whitman replied, then relaxed for a moment, preparing herself for whatever the universe had in store for her next.

*********

Could he possibly be ready for what the universe had next? If the Galaxy was a screwup ship in the JAG's opinion, they were about to meet the master of mental mindwarps.

And at that moment, Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan was fighting a splitting, pheremone hangover induced headache, a grumpy mood, and the fear of what the preceived inquisition had for him next. It wasn't the first time he ran into JAG's, and he sure as hell hoped it would never happen again.

But who was he fooling? He was James Lionel Corgan, and that meant he was automatically cursed. Jozak III after the Sho-tan Massacre (James was luckily not in the unit responsible), the boarding action of the USS Rondak (half his boarding party unit was killed due to an unlucky shot and an EPS conduit), and of course, the run ins on the Galaxy involving the Denebian incident, the Borg Incident, the Lanjep Incident, and the Sanguinarian Incident. All were not comfortable times, being grilled over and over by thorough and uncaring JAGs.

~"Stupid f**king JAG-offs..."~ Corgan muttered sourly, as the conference room opened. He broke into a half sincere grin and started off with a snappy salute.

"Sir." James carefully spoke, "You summoned for me. I assume it's about our latest encounter."

"Naturally, 'Commander," Rear Admiral Whitman began, "We have some questions that we have to ask you, which will be recorded for testimonial purposes when we convene the review board in a few days. Lieutenant Benedor here will handle most of the questions, so that I can watch and get an idea about a few things. So, I'll turn it over to here."

"Thank you," Benedor said, then took her seat across from Corgan. She turned on the recorder and began, "So, 'Commander Corgan, we need you to begin by giving us your name, rank, and serial number for the records."

~"Sh*t... they need to ask that? Can't they read?"~ James thought, not knowing that Lysander already established THAT fact in his interview, "F**k yeah, sir. I can tell you all that, sir. I am Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan, Chief of Security, USS Galaxy. Starfleet Serial Number 93759569-Omega Black. So, what's yours?" He then asked to surprise the JAG officer, hoping to take the initiative out of the interrogation.

"Lieutenant Tarynn Ehlanna Benedor, Chief Of Staff to Rear Admiral Leigh Deirdre Whitman, Ciutric Colony. Starfleet Serial Number 103311756-Delta Green," the young lieutenant smiled sweetly, though certainly on the inside she was being massively sarcastic. "So, can you give us your interpretation of the events that took place around and aboard the USS Galaxy during this last mess?"

This was when the lump in James throat solidified, ~"F**k... this'll take forever..."~

The chief of security started, "Ok, here we go. You might want to get out the buttered popcorn for this one." Corgan paused, watching their amused reaction, seeing that they were waiting for him to continue, "Oookay, we can start now."

"Just let me get some tea, 'Commander," Benedor said, walked to the replicator and replicated the tea, then returned to her seat. After a lot of unnessecary adjusting of position to get comfortable (or rather, to sarcastically suggest that she was making herslef comfortable), she urged him to begin, "Go ahead, 'Commander."

"Right-o." James started his story, "I was doing my duties at security, and I was about to finish a patrol of the ship when the Android Incident happened. It was a typical day. Did my rounds, did my paperwork, made sure my staff was ship shape and ready, you know, that typical tripe. I was on my way to security, and I ran into Lieutenant Commander MacAllen. I was talking to her about a later engagement when all the sudden... red alert came. The commander and I went to our stations. I found out that there were Orion ships off our bow when I made it to the security office."

"And what did you do during the red alert?" Taryn asked, feigning disinterest. This was ridiculous.

"Aren't you aware of security procedures?" James cast a disarming, suspicious eye at the officer. "And what about common sense? I did what any security officer does during red alert. I sent my security squads to their assigned battle stations. Three squads per deck, with a few squads as reserves at the security office. I send them to battle stations and commanded them from there. And for the first few minutes, it was quiet."

James paused to reflect, "I didn't know what was going on upstairs until after the whole f**king mess sorted itself out. I was busy getting security ready. And a goddamn good thing too. My boys made it to their positions, post haste, and then that was when we were hit!"

"I was just curious if you followed then, Lieutenant Commander," Taryn chuckled as the Admiral looked on, "So, could you be a bit more specific about the ship being... hit?"

"Well, the ship was struck. Low yeild disruptor blasts. I could feel every hit shake the Galaxy. The shields weren't responding either, because usually a shield hit shakes the ship a little and blows out a panel or two. The Orions were shaking us up like we were a f**king prison b*tch! The shields weren't working! And then, the Orion boarding parties came on board and tried to rough us up. They tried to attack vital systems, but most were too f**king busy raping the Promenade and our Cargo Bays. We at security were able to respond and fight them off before they had the common sense to hit engineering or the bridge. After awhile, god knows how long, we were able to round up all the Orions."

"Good. So what happened afterwards," Taryn asked, wondering if Corgon spoke to Captain Bhrode with that mouth... That wasn't something she would have wanted to experiment with.

"Well, after that, it was all cut and dry." James sighed, "The Orions were stranded after Brhode blew the f**k out of the Orion ships, so my department was stuck with hundreds of prisoners. We arranged for some cells to be made in one of our cargo bays, and threw Orions in wherever we could, short of violating the Geneva protocols. And I tell you, babysitting hundreds of f**king prisoners wasn't a f**king picnic either. And to top it off, Brhode in his infinite wisdom let Mudd onboard, and his androids! F**king things caused all sorts of trouble! I swear that little clusterf**k sent two androids after me so that I was distracted so that he could rob us blind!"

"Can you give us information about your interactions with any of the androids while they were onboard," Taryn asked, "I'm sorry in advance if it makes you uncomfortable."

James blushed sheepishly, "Sir, I had intimate relations with two androids while they were on board. I wasn't until later... that I found out it was the pheremones making me do it, sir. Either way, won't keep me from feeling guilty. Should have seen something like that coming. T'lan and O'Rourke from my department dragged me out before I was their love slave forever, if you catch my drift. Dried me out in the drunk tank and cut me loose after those anti-pheremone injections. And that's it... until you summoned for me."

"Tell me about what other people were doing during the course of these events?" Whitman cut in suddenly, but the lieutenant seemed to take it in stride as if it were all perfectly normal for the two of them to switch roles.

"Didn't see many people, sir." James Corgan replied truthfully. "I saw Captain Brhode interrogate the Orion Captain, and Lieutenant Commander Darkstar act as the intimidator. They didn't lay a finger on the Captain... they didn't have to. Brhode just had to look the Orion straight in the eye, and intimidate him, threaten him, and do whatever it took. It was efficient, and I swear they were truthful in their threats."

"What kind of threats, 'Commander," the admiral asked, surprised that Bhrode had in fact come out of his ready room.

"Damn rights. Brhode was willing to hand the Orions over to the Klingon authorities on Lanjep. All by the book... but very borderline. What was strange, Brhode didn't threaten to skin, or beat up, or hurt the poor son of a b*tch. Must be a first, really."

"So how did you react to that?" Taryn Benedor cut back in with a bemused look.

"How am I supposed to react? The Orions attacked us, but it was our fault. We all knew we were dangerously close to Orion Territory, and last I checked, we did go through their borders to go after Harry Mudd. And worse, Brhode had to turn everything into a fireworks display again. Two of my department staff are dead, many more injured, and our ship got f**ked up by two Orion border patrol destroyers. And the Androids seduced half the ship? I'd say that's a f**king embarrassment on our part."

"I suppose so, 'Commander. What would you haved done differently if you had a chance to do it again?"

"Well, I would say more negotiation would be in order. I've seen too many of those cowboy captains during the war. Their itchy trigger fingers get them in too much trouble in peacetime. We could have handed over Mudd to the Orions, since he was breaking their laws, and we would have saved ourselves a sh*tload of trouble right there on the spot. As for the Androids, we couldn't have known about the pheremones until it was too late, sir."

"So, what do you think of the Androids' sentience?" Whitman asked, throwing out the penultimate question.

"They're sentient, sir." James confessed, "The androids I met, pheremones aside, had their own personality traits, preferences... which I hope we wont get into at this time, and besides a bit of slavery on Mudd's behalf, could be productive members of society. I would recommend shutting down the pheremone replication unit, and giving them a chance to make their own decisions for once."

"Very well then," Taryn said, wondering if that opinion might not be a bit biased, "You can go."

"Thank you, sir." James rose from his chair, and saluted, "I hope that helped. And forgive me for the language. This whole f**king situation has gotten out of hand, and it would have stopped if we didn't let Mudd on board."

With a sigh of relief, James waited for the JAG officer to salute back, then sourly walked out of the conference room.

Taryn shook her head, "Mouth aside, he was normal... I think."

"Comparatively, yes. We should be able to get something from that," Whitman replied, then began to get the conference room in order. They only had one more meeting, with one Lieutenant JG Ella Grey.

By Ensign Dhanishta Eshe – Engineering,
Lieutenant j.g Ahdjiia D’Tinya – Security
Lieutenant j.g Michael McDowell – Engineering
Lieutenant j.g Klaus Fienberg – medical

"The Night Before" (Backpost)

Dhanishta packed her bags and said good bye to the house that had been her home for the last 9 years, she wasn’t sad to leave it now, anticipation and excitement left a smile on her lips. Soon she would be up there, in space, she no longer needed to fantasise about being surrounded by the stars. Her dreams were coming true. With 26 years packed into bags and cargo crates Dhanishta boarded her transport that would take her to her new home. She didn’t look back, only forward to the Galaxy.

Her next stop was to be Lanjep, a Klingon outpost which was solely used as a resort and diplomacy court. It was centrally located between all the Federation major powers. She would stay on the Starbase orbiting the planet for a few days before transporting onto the Galaxy.

Ahdjiia was sitting in one of the many bars on the outpost orbiting Lanjep, waiting for her new posting, the Galaxy to arrive. As it was, she'd already garnered some respect from the Klingons during her last bar fight.

Quite the surprise coming from a Crysalian. Peace, Love, Understanding, who needs it..heh.

She idly sipped at her bloodwine, looking at the other patrons. Some were Starfleet. Possibly others also waiting for the Galaxy to arrive. She sighed as she thought of the K'Hotan. That was a ship she was certainly going to miss. Too many good friends there.

**A short while later**

Dhanishtas shuttle docked with the station. A Starfleet officer led her to her temporary quarters, a place to dump her stuff and freshen up. She changed into more comfortable attire; the traditional Klingon female dress. She carefully placed one of her bags down on the bed; it was made of wicker and quite large. She opened it up and a black shape slowly emerged from within. She grabbed a couple of bowls and filled one with water, the other with cat food. “Now listen here Salem Sebastian,” she ordered the cat who was now patrolling the bed, “stay here and be good!”

She left her quarters and headed to the bar. As she entered she took a look around, Starfleet personal mixed with Klingons and many others. She got a few looks from the locals, a Trill in Klingon clothing, must have looked odd; she didn’t lose pace in heading to the bar, “Bloodwine.” she ordered perching on a stool next to a Crysalian female.

"The bloodwine's particularly good here." Ahdjiia commented to the new arrival, "I've had it at other bars and this has the best from them."

“Must be 2309 then, after all there is no finer vintage!” Dhani commented, smiling at the reference.

"I believe so.", Ahdjiia said, "And it's smoother than the chech'tluth I've tasted."

Dhani smiled and giggled inwardly, “Good to find someone that I have something in common with. I’m Dhanishta Eshe.” she said holding out her right hand.

Ahdjiia shook Dhani's hand. "Ahdjiia D'Tinya.", she said with a soft smile, "My last posting was quite enlightening with alcoholic beverages. I'm still convinced the Klingon version of moonshine could eat away tritanium alloy."

Dhanishta nodded, swigging her Bloodwine, “Where was your last posting?” she asked, before taking another swig.

"The K'Hotan.", Ahdjiia said, expecting the usual reaction to the unofficial party ship of the fleet.

“That’s got to be far more interesting than Starfleet Engineering.” Dhanishta responded; thinking back to how many new recruits had hated the thought of being posted there.

"It was.” Ahdjiia said with a smile as she sipped her bloodwine, "I hope to make as good friends on my next posting as I did there."

“You were at Starfleet Engineering?” Dhani questioned her eyebrows raised, “On Earth?” she specified.

"No, but I heard plenty about it." Ahdjiia said, keeping the zing about it being considered the nerd area of Starfleet silent.

Dhanis eyebrows returned to their place, her peeked curiosity diminished, “You know it’s not as bad as everyone makes out. I’ve been there for the last three years and thoroughly enjoyed it; not everyone gets there choice of posting, especially for their first.” she commented.

"True.", Ahdjiia replied, "I'm just waiting for my next posting to dock."

“Me too. I didn’t get my choice for my first posting but, finally got my wish; to work amongst the stars! And what better name than the Galaxy?!”

Ahdjiia smiled, "From what I've heard, she's a good ship. Captain's got a bit of a temper, but which of them doesn't."

Dhani chuckled as she finished off her bloodwine, “Indeed.” She turned back to the bar tender for a moment and ordered a refill, “So where’s your next posting? You seem anxious to get there.”

"Same as yours, the Galaxy.” Ahdjiia said with a soft smile, "I'll be in Security."

Dhani smiled, “I knew there was a reason why I sat down next to you!”

"What department are you going to be in?” she asked.

“Engineering.” Dhani replied over the top of her tankard.

Ahdjiia, you're a dumbass at times, she thought to herself. She should've guessed this one was an engineer as she'd said she attended Engineering school. Of course Dhani could've done like she had and attended Tactical and Marine training for the hell of it.

"Have you come across any of the others who might be joining the ship as well?” she asked.

“No, not yet,” Dhani replied, “to be honest I haven’t been looking, came here first. I’ve been on a passenger freighter for the last couple of weeks. Stayed in my quarters for the most part, studying for my new post; every time I close my eyes I see the schematics for the Galaxy!”

"I have yet to come across an engineer who hasn't fully studied the schematics of the ship they're on before they arrive.” Ahdjiia said with a smile, "Preparedness is good."

Klaus was bored, so he went to the bar for a drink. He unbuttoned his long black trench. It swayed and flapped in the random air currents within the station.

The bar was around the corner so he went in an sat down a couple seats from what appeared to be two Starfleet personnel, obviously off duty.

The bartender walked up and Klaus ordered water. He grabbed the water, thanked & paid the bartender then sat down next to the two. "May I join you."

Dhanishta looked up at the newcomer, then glanced at Ahdjiia; she didn’t seem to mind.

"Of course.", Ahdjiia said with a polite smile.

Dhani reached behind her and grabbed a bar stool. She placed it in front of the newcomer, “Have a seat, I’m Dhanishta Eshe.” she said holding out her hand.

Klaus accepted and shook the awaiting hand. "I apologize for eavesdropping, but I wish to join the conversation. My assignment is aboard the USS Galaxy. A wondrous vessel isn't she?"

“I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing it yet, but from the schematics it’s everything a young engineer dreams of!” Dhani replied.

"It looks like we're all waiting for the Galaxy then.” Ahdjiia commented with a smile, "That's my new assignment as well."

“What department are you in?” Dhanishta asked the man who had just joined them.

"I am Dr. Klaus Feinberg, medical practitioner."

***Some thirty minutes later ***

Lanjep, a Klingon outpost and on a diplomatic level one of the most important planets to all of the major powers. At this moment Michael was on the huge Starbase orbiting that planet, walking over the large promenade and passing countless shops, before he would have to report for duty on the USS Galaxy. He was still wearing his uniform. His shift, Gamma shift, was only four hours away and so Michael found it easier to keep on his uniform instead of going to the 'trouble' of looking up his civilian clothing.

It was still a surprise to him that he'd been assigned to the flag ship of the Federation. Michael wondered who had arranged his transfer. Starfleet Command could not have forgotten that incident with the freighter near Starbase 86 so soon. Someone must've pulled some strings or else he wouldn't even be here.

Michael began to feel thirsty and that was not surprising since he'd walked for over two hours now. Some ten meters in front of him, at his left, he could see what had to be a bar. ~A Klingon bar on a Starbase near a Klingon planet. Can get rough there sometimes. Ah well, there's got to be a first time for everything.~

As Michael entered the bar he took a quick look around. It looked reasonable quiet,...for Klingon standards. He signalled the bartender and ordered a Tarkelean Sunset, one of his favourite drinks. The bartender was back in a few and handed him the beverage after which Michael turned around to find a place to sit down.

Dhanishtas attention turned from the conversation when she saw a man enter the bar. She stared at him intently, she knew this man, or at least it felt like she did. She kept staring at him, beckoning him.

Only then Michael noticed the three persons sitting next to each other. One of them looked at him and signalled him to come over. Michael returned a surprised look, thereby raising his left brow in a Vulcan manner. He didn't know her, but it seems she did recognize him. It was a rather attractive woman and Michael felt that strange nervous feeling again - the feeling he always got in these situation. He prayed he could hide his shy side this time. Finally he walked over to the woman and when he was just a few steps away he asked, "Uhm, I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

Ahdjiia looked at the recent newcomer; he was either Ops, Security, or Engineering...she rather doubted Security. She continued to sip her bloodwine for the time being.

Dhanishta wracked her brains trying to think of this mans name, it popped into her head from nowhere, "Mike...Michael..," she said. She remembered looking at the bios of the other engineers on the Galaxy; that must be it she thought, though it didn't answer the question of why she felt like she hadn't seen him in years though, or why she wanted to hug him, "Michael.. McDowell?" she questioned, refraining from hugging him.

~What the..? How does she know my name~ This was weird and Michael frowned. "You know my name? How do you know me? As far as I can remember I've never met you."

Dhanishta could sense his concern at her knowing his name, she didn't blame him. "No, you haven't. Forgive me." she said, "I looked up all the bios of the people I was to be working with. I'm Ensign Dhanishta Eshe. I have been assigned to the Galaxy. Engineering."

Somewhat relieved Michael smiled. "Oh, I see. Getting familiar with your fellow crewmembers, huh? Good thing. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Dhanishta." He noticed the other two persons sitting next to Dhanishta looking at him. "I assume they are your friends?"

"I hope so." Dhanishta replied looking at them both expectantly.

Ahdjiia just smiled and sipped at her bloodwine, finally finishing it off.

Michael looked at both Dhanishta's friends and waited for them to introduce themselves. Were they just friends saying goodbye to their friend before the Galaxy would leave Lanjep or were they also Starfleet officers serving on the same ship? He was curious to find out.

The good doctor gave a very quick and casual salute. "Dr. Klaus Feinberg, Lieutenant jg. Medical department. I also am assigned to the Galaxy."

Michael nodded. "Pleased to meet you Doctor. I guess I'll be seeing you at my medical check-up." Then he looked at other woman who appeared to have finished her drink. He smiled a bit clumsy at her. "Are you perhaps also assigned to the Galaxy?"

Ahdjiia nodded politely. "Lt. JG Ahdjiia D'Tinya, Security. Also heading for the Galaxy."

Dhanishta looked back up at Michael, "I just met them." she explained.

Michael took a sip from his drink. "You all just met each other? So this is all a coincidence,...not a get together of friends?" Thinking a few moments Michael continued. "Some coincidence... Four people. We all meet each other here, at this spot, for the first time and we're all assigned to the Galaxy. Now, what are the chances?"

Klaus chuckled. "Same thing happened on my last assignment aboard the USS Sturmovik."

Dhanishta smiled and finished off her bloodwine, "Any one for another?" she asked noticing that Ahdjiia had also finished her drink.

"Of course.", Ahdjiia said with a smile. It was a legacy from her old ship, always take a drink from someone offering

Michael made a gesture with his held, making it clear he declined the offer. Besides, he never tried bloodwine before. After all the stories he heard about it he'd decided that he wouldn't drink it. "Uhm, no thanks. I'm still enjoying my own favourite drink."

“Klaus,” Dhanishta turned to the doctor, “can I get you anything?”

"Bah! I never touch the stuff. The last time I had a drink I tried to hang myself. No lie. At least I can joke about it now." Klaus chuckled.

Dhani tilted her head, “Just the two then.” she said turning around to the bar tender. She handed over a full tankard to Ahdjiia. “Seeing as everyone has a drink of some sort; I’d like to make a toast.” Dhani started, “To the Galaxy and…… new friends.” She said raising her tankard, looking round at everyone.

Ahdjiia raised her tankard with a smile, "And bright days before us."

Michael nodded once and raised his own glass. "Yes, I'll drink to that." Then he looked to Klaus. "Doctor?"

"I suppose..." Klaus raised his glass of water.

Looking around Michael noticed everyone was waiting for something, some last words before they really would toast. Normally he wouldn't have taken the initiative in this situation, but now he felt an obligation to initiate the actual ritual. "So, to the Galaxy, new friends,...and bright days before us."

All clinked their glasses after which Michael took a bit to much of his drink at once,...and that didn't went very well. He choked in it but, miraculously, was just able to swallow it before he started to cough.

Ahdjiia got Michael a napkin. "Here.", she said with a soft smile as she handed it to him, "Nothing like something going down the wrong pipe."

Michael looked up, still coughing uncontrollably. "Thanks..." He felt stupid and was embarrassed that he allowed this to happen. He heard a group of Klingons laughing out loud, saying something like 'his throat is too sensitive for bloodwine'.

Dhani looked over at the Klingon disapprovingly, “nukneH romuluSngan nuch?” she retorted.

The Klingon grunted and glared at Dhanishta. The overly large and butch male Klingon looked at his friends before standing up and making his way over to Dhani.

Dhani put her pint down slowly on the bar before turning to watch as he stormed towards her; fuming at the insult. Briefly translated she had called him a Romulan coward; the biggest insult.

Ahdjiia sighed and slowly turned, ready for some throwing down. After all, what was the point of being in a Klingon bar without having the requisite barfight.

"Hey! You have a deathwish!?" Michael called out in-between coughs and with a bewildered look on his face. ~Oh man, so it was a bad idea coming here.~ "Ensign!!"

Dhani stood up and held her ground. She signalled for the others to stand back, she knew what she was doing.

The Klingon clenched his fists and glared at her, “What did you call me?” he hissed.

“romuluSngan nuch,” Dhani replied, “have you lost your hearing in your old age?”

Ahdjiia was familiar with this as well, and was ready to take it all as it came.

Michael leaned over to Ahdjiia, all forgetting about the nervous feeling he had of being around the two attractive women. "What the hell does she think she is doing? That's a Klingon, not a lovable puppy" Michael halve whispered.

"Don't worry about it.", Ahdjiia said with a soft smile, "Just be ready to either start fighting or duck for cover if and when the first fists start to fly."

Michael frowned. "That's exactly the part I'm worried about." He turned to look how Dhanishta was doing. He really didn't look forward to come forward to take a few punches in order to 'save the girl'. Heck, he wasn't even sure he could pull that off. But, as Michael watched, something told him that maybe wouldn't be necessary afterall.

The Klingon regarded her for a moment.

“Well?” Dhani questioned, “Have you lost your hearing, Moll’ek?”

He grunted at her confused.

“I guess you don’t remember me, Moll’ek. I sure as hell remember you.” She said taking a step forward, “You gave me this.” She said rolling up her sleeve and showing him the branding on her right bicep.

He grabbed her arm forcefully, whilst glaring at her, and took a closer inspection of the scar. His face scrunched up, he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“You’re the Eshe twin.” He stated, “Your sister squealed like a targ!!” he rumbled with more laughter. “How many tears ago was it?” he questioned when his laughter subsided.

Dhani thought for a moment, “Thirteen.” she replied, “I drunk so much blood wine, I had a hang over for a week!”

Moll’ek laughed again, he drew Dhani close to him, “A round of drinks for the Trill and her friends.” he shouted at the bar tender. “Come, join us?” he asked.

Dhani looked round at her new found friends; all of which looked a bit on edge, “Maybe later.” she told Moll’ek. He returned to his friends.

Dhani turned back to the edgy three.

With a nod and a shrug, Ahdjiia took her seat back at the bar, ordering some chech'tluth this time around. This was all part and parcel of dealing with Klingon friends, but there was always that fine line that might get crossed.

Klaus chuckled to the nonsense, a harmless chuckle. He thought he knew nothing would go wrong.

Michael looked at the big Klingon as he walked back to the others. "For a moment there I thought we would've to fight our way out the bar. But you knew that wouldn't happen, didn't you? You know him." He looked at Dhanishta. "All nice and fun,...but next time warn us before you do something like this again, okay?"

Dhani looked at Ahdjiia then Klaus and then Michael; Klaus seamed amused, Michael looked relived and Ahdjiia well, Ahdjiia intrigued Dhani. Ahdjiia was ready to fight, to defend someone she hardly knew; one who was intentionally insulting a Klingon at that. Dhani didn’t have to explain but felt that she ought to.

“I’m sorry.” she said to Michael, “We moved to Qo’noS when I was 11.” she started to explain, “Me and my sister had a hard time fitting in, as I’m sure you can imagine. We joined in on everything that we could from Bat’leth tournaments to ghargh eating competitions. After a while we managed to gain a little respect from a few, but they were then picked on to for associating with outsiders.” she paused and swigged her drink, “So the years passed and me and Kala became quite adept with a Bat’leth and entered a competition. The others were not happy and really gave us some stick, but we won the tournament and were branded as a sign of acceptance. Moll’ek understood how much me and Kala had had enough of the teasing, the insults and the constant fights and he made a bet with me. If I didn’t scream when he branded me then I could insult him as much as I liked. Though only him! And if he hadn’t of remembered me then we might have been fighting our way out of the bar. But that is unlikely.”

Michael was intrigued by Dhanishta's short summery of her life on the Klingon home world. It certainly was not your average story. He frowned slightly. "It's not like Klingons to really 'discriminate' other races... Sure, they're aggressive in nature, but their culture is more bent on proving that one is a great warrior who fought great battles, all for the honor and glory. From hearing your story I get a whole different perspective on the Klingons...or is it another less known side of the Klingon society?"

“That is true to an extent,” Dhanishta replied, “but I was born on Vulcan, and brought up with Vulcan views and philosophy. And to go from a peaceful world bent on logic to one where violence is promoted and encouraged is well….. illogical”

"Ah,...that explains it. From Vulcan to Qo'noS, now that's just asking for trouble." Michael said and grinned. Then, turning serious again, he asked, "So, what's the story about you being born on Vulcan? I mean, you're a Trill and Vulcan isn't exactly the place where you expect a Trill to be born."

Dhanishta smiled to herself appearances could be so deceiving. “Well my parents were scientists and took the most unusual of posts which lasted years. They wanted to be settled and not drag me and my sister from ship to ship, feared that we’d turn out as Starfleet brats I guess.”

"And here you are, a Starfleet officer." Michael replied. He chuckled. "I'd say they failed in keeping you from 'Starfleet brats'."

“The best laid plans.” Dhanishta smiled as she swigged the last of her pint

Michael nodded and smiled. "You got that right. But I assume your parents overcame their 'worst nightmare', not?"

“Erm, I don’t really know, they have ascended to the stars. Following their life long dream; to explore.” she replied without emotion.

The change in mood didn't escape Michael. It was obvious he'd hit some sensitive subject. "Uhm,...yeah,... Hey,...I'm sorry if I said something that upset you."

“Not at all.” Dhani replied smiling. Truth be known Dhani’s attention had wandered and she wasn’t quite sure why.

Michael gave her a comforting smile, then turned and spoke to the three in general. "Right, now I don't know about you three, but I'm heading back to the docking bay. If I'm right then the Galaxy should've arrived by now. .Well, she better be since my orders tell me to report for duty in about in hour or so. Anyway, I'll catch you all later, okay?" That said Michael turned and walked out of the bar. He had to be admit he was looking forward to his first shift in the Galaxy. There was something special about it to return to his old ship again.

“Hummm,” Dhani mumbled in agreement, “I’ve got to get changed. I’ll see you all later.” she said placing her empty pint glass on the bar. She paused on her way out at Moll’eks table and said her goodbyes to him before leaving the bar.

"I must leave too.", Ahdjiia said, "I have to make sure my little ones who travel with me are ready for the transport over. They get so easily upset in a new home." With polite goodbyes said, she headed to tend to her spiders.

Klaus simply looked, smiled, quickly saluted and walked out.

OOC – this is set straight after the jp “The night before”

By Ensign Dhanishta Eshe.

“How to get a cat in a bag with a Klingon at your throat”

Location: Temporary quarters, space station orbiting Lanjep.

As Dhanishta returned to her temporary quarters, to get changed into her uniform, she felt a little guilty; she had lied to Michael about reading his bio. She had looked up the personal in the engineering department that she had been transferred to, but that was it, she hadn’t read anyone’s names and hadn’t looked at there bios. She was just as puzzled as he was as to how she knew who he was.

As she entered she realised why her attention had wandered earlier. Salem! The black cat was nowhere to be seen, ‘dam it, that’s all I need’, she thought.

She packed everything up and got her uniform ready for the two second change after she found Salem. Using the internal sensors she located the feline close to the bar that she had just left. Dhanishta ran back up the halls, in and out of turbo lifts and after a few moments was back up at the bar.

Klaus and Ahdjiia were nowhere to be seen; as she had expected. Dhani looked under tables as discreetly as she could in vain attempt to find the mischievous cat. Dhani cursed as her search turned up nothing, not even a hair ball. She left the bar and stood looking, scanning with her Betazoid mind.

An almighty scream erupted from a near by bar and Dhani knew straight away that someone, though not her, had unintentionally found her cat. She ran in the direction the scream had come from.

Salem, on the other hand, had been having a whale of a time exploring the station, running, jumping, climbing the occasional railing, and was now tucking in to a tasty blood pie!!

As she entered the bar the scene unfolded before her; Salem sitting on a table, merrily munching on a Klingons dinner, the Klingon was stood, arms outstretched in out-roar, and oh yes one other thing he was pissed off - and this one she didn’t know!

Dhani ran in, skidded, yet managed to grab the cat by the scruff of its neck and tuck him under one arm. The Klingon shouted at her, most of it she missed yet just managed to catch, “……your cat…….” “Yes, sorry.” Dhani replied, “This is my cat.” “Give it to me.” the Klingon demanded. “Why?” Dhani asked. “I’m going to gut it.” he replied whilst brandishing a d’k tahg. “I don’t think so.” Dhani replied calmly. “GIVE IT TO ME” he shouted twiddling the d’k tahg around in his fingers advancing on her. “No” Dhani replied.

He kept advancing on her till she reached the wall and had nowhere to go. His menacing face lit up as she hit the wall, “Give it to me.” he said, his voice low and gruff. “No.” Dhani said trying to restrain the fidgeting feline in her arms. The Klingon moved closer, the blade of his d’k tahg now resting on Dhanishtas throat.

She could feel the point of the blade at the base of her jaw, the cold mettle pressed against her skin sent chills down her spine.

Salem lunged forward, claws out. His back legs kicked off against Dhanishtas chest leaving bleeding claw marks. His front legs stretched out meeting the Klingons face. The Klingon staggered back covering his face. The blade of the d’k tahg sliced Dhanishtas skin as the Klingons arms retreated to protect his bleeding face.

Dhanishta spun round in the opposite direction of the blade and went to run after her cat. The Klingon grabbed Dhani’s arm, he noticed the Klingon symbol which scared her upper arm, and stopped her. He looked at the Trill dressed in Klingon clothing with a Klingon mark. He twilled the knife round in his fingers again, and challenged her.

In a movement that took less than a second Dhani grabbed the knife out of the Klingons hand and threw it at the dart board at the other side of the bar, a little cheer erupted from the onlookers of the dart game as the board made the satisfying sound of a bulls eye, until they realised that it was a d’k tahg stuck in the board and not a dart.

“I may have been accepted by the Klingon society, but I am not a Klingon.” Dhani said squaring up to the Klingon, “I do not accept your challenge.” “Bar keep,” she shouted not taking her eyes off the Klingon, “give him a fresh blood pie and a pint of blood wine to wash it down with.” She smiled politely at the Klingon, “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a cat to bag and a ship to catch.” She pulled the chair out and waited for the Klingon to sit down. He grunted his acknowledgment, took the chair sharply from her, repositioned it and sat back down.

Dhani went up to the bar and paid the tender. As she left the bar she took a deep breath, ‘that cat has a lot to answer for’.

She continued the search and eventually found Salem, hiding in a corner. Upon returning to her quarters she bagged Salem in silence, ignoring his constant mewing, patched herself up and changed into her uniform.

As the Galaxy came into view her breath caught in her throat. Her future awaited her; to the stars she went.

“If you misbehave on this ship,” she said to Salem, “ I’ll gut you myself!”

"Curtis's View"

Captain William Sutherland
Lieutenant Curtis Geluf

Captain Sutherland looked at his list, and moved to the next name. Sutherland tapped his commbadge, instructing the officer to report immediately.

-----

Cleaning up a bit after Kiora's flare-up about the fem-bot Curtis came home with, the Lieutenant was being mindful to check his door every time someone rang the bell, lest another bot jump from nowhere.

He was just setting his ever-present (and ever-messy) pile of sheet music back on his desk when his comm badge chirped.

["Sutherland to Lieutenant Geluf, please report to Briefing Lounge 12"] came the voice over the Operation's Manager's commbadge.

"This is Geluf. On my way sir." Curtis replied, glad to be taking a breather from the work.

["Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll see you here shortly."]

Curtis began to head for the door when it struck him that there may be fem-bots ANYWHERE...and they could pop out at ANY time, and cause him to become SMITTEN with them and make Kiora whack him with her leathal "Drunken Two-Fisted Designer Shoe" attack again.

Cringing a bit at the thought, Curtis deftly checked outside his door in either direction. Nothing. Being careful to move with grace, and using his Kerelian ears to their full extent, he made his way down the coridoor.

He wasn't hearing any fem-bots in the hallways, but he WAS picking up several nasty conversations from inside different quarters along the way. Married couples were raging full scale war upon each other, and in a few spots Curtis could hear the distict sounds of sexual encounters.

Of course, some of this wa normal for the OPS manager. His hearing was a blessing and a curse. He didn't always want to hear the conversations being had by half the ship, but then again, his ears had saved his hide on more than one occassion. Now, he was hoping they would do it again...by getting him around any fem-bots.

Several overheard arguments and many minutes later, Curtis arrived at the lounge and entered.

"Lt. Curtis Geluf, reporting as requested sir."

" Good afternoon, Lieutenant. I'm sure you're aware, Starfleet has sent myself and my fellows to determine the fate of these androids located by one Harcourt Fenton Mudd. I would appreciate anything you could tell me about what's been going on this ship."

Curtis' face contorted a bit.

"Well sir, I've had a personal run in with one of the androids, or the "Fem-bots" as the crew have come to call them. The experience turned out rather badly for me...wives tend to notice when you bring other women into their households." Then, rubbing his head, "And they can get real dangerous if you let them get ahold of a shoe...."

Sutherland bit back laughter at that one. "I have no doubt of that, Lieutenant."

Curtis quickly decided that his previous statement made him sound like a bad spouse and added, "Of course, I had no idea what was happening. Apparently these androids are capable of warping men's minds a bit."

"So I've heard." the Captain responded, and then leaned forward. "If it doesn't embarrass you, would you be able to provide me with... " he paused, searching for the word. "Details of your experience - only the portions that would be relevant to this investigation." he hastily added at the end. This investigation was a tricky one. Several interviewees had already offered FAR, FAR too much information on what they'd done with the fembots.

"Certainly sir, at least, what I can remember of it. Things are still a bit fuzzy." Curtis replied.

"I can't quite remember HOW I met up with the bot, and in fact, I can't remember much of what happend after. What I can tell you is that my mind was completely under the control of the bot. I lost all knowledge of actions around me, even forgetting about my wife, Kiora. They're machines that seem built for one reason only...sex. At least, they've shown no interest in other things as far as I can tell. My contact with one was limited, and after the experience with Kiora, you can understand that I've been carefull to avoid them."

"Likely a wise precaution, Mr. Geluf. Given your druthers, what do you think should be done with them?" Captain Sutherland asked, stroking his beard as he had in so many interviews before. It was such an unconsious habit, he never noticed himself doing it.

"Frankly sir, I have no idea." The Ops Chief replied. "I suppose it all depends on the level of sentience in the machines. Regaurdless, I don't think they should be allowed to be sold off as a living sex toy. That's just my personal opinion of course."

"Fair enough." Sutherland replied. "Thank you, Lieutenant. That will be all."

"Aye, sir." came the Ops Managers response, and he departed.

"The Bartender's View"

Captain William Sutherland
Erin Friel

Captain Sutherland looked at his list, and moved to the next name. That God, he was almost finished. They were down to civilians now. Sutherland tapped his commbadge, requesting - as the individual was one of those civilians - that she meet him in the briefing room shortly.

-----

["Captain Sutherland to Erin Friel. Ms. Friel, would you please come to Briefing Lounge 12"] came the voice over the Medical Officer's commbadge.

"Um, yes sir," the redhead replied a little nervously from behind her bar.

["Thank you, ma'am. I'll see you here shortly."]

She had been informed that there were going to be some important people asking questions and that since she was one of the people aboard who first proposed a theory about what was going on, she knew she was likely to be on the list of 'questionees'.

Rounding the bar, she whispered into her friend Tina's ear as she passed by, "Take care of things here, I have to go answer some questions."

"Ooo, don't let dem muckety-mucks intimidate yous, hon," Tina counseled.

"I'll try not to," Erin assured as she left Ten Forward.

---------

"Good afternoon, Ms. Friel. I'm sure you're aware, Starfleet has sent myself and my fellows to determine the fate of these androids located by one Harcourt Fenton Mudd. I would appreciate anything you could tell me about what's been going on this ship."

Although her career as a bartender in San Francisco and Utopia Planetia had brought her in contact with some captains, admirals, and other Fleet brass, Erin had never been summoned before one for questioning. Her usually bubbly demeanor was considerably toned-down now. "I, uh, I don't really know, sir," she answered, shifting nervously in her seat. "Just that for the past few days, every man I've seen on this ship, including my own boyfriend," she muttered with rather obvious contempt, "has been completely nuts around those women. Following them around, fawning all over them, even fighting over them. It's been pretty weird if you ask me," she added as an afterthought.

"I understand you were one of the first to figure out what was going on? With the pheromone release?" Sutherland asked.

"Was I?" the redhead asked with a little surprise. She'd told her tale to a couple of doctors in sickbay who had summarily thanked her and sent her on her way. They didn't reveal whether or not she was the first or the only person to come up with the theory. "Well, I know I hadn't heard anyone else suggest it, at least not to me."

"And how did you come to this conclusion?"

"Perfume. My friend Tina said something about some perfume she had that guys go crazy over and that's when it hit me. We'd been talking about all the crazy stuff that's been happening around here lately with all the men on board being so, so smitten with those strange women . . . even my own boyfriend," Erin muttered, pursing her lips in displeasure. "I couldn't figure out what these women had, I mean they're pretty and all, but so are a lot of other women on this ship. I noticed when I doused a couple of guys with a good blast of water, they seemed to calm down a little, but it wasn't until Tina mentioned the perfume that it made any sense to me."

"Interesting." Sutherland replied as he tapped something into his stylus. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Yeah. If you see a grouchy, shifty-eyed little helmsman court-martial the bastard on sight." Pheromones or not, Erin still was still holding Jeremy liable for his conduct. That was one fence that was going to take some time to mend.

William smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, Miss."

OOC: Occurs before Cutter's testimony with Sutherland.

~Conversation over Lunch~

Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Lt. Daniel Scarborough

"Danu!" Cutter exclaimed as he answered the door to his quarters. He was half naked, again, presumably still spending all of his time with one of Mudd's androids.

"Hello, Cutter," Daniel said, concentrating and refraining from addressing the Fruna'lin by his rank. "I came by to see if you wanted to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Hungry?" Cutter asked, as if unfamiliar with the word. He looked down at his stomach, "That's what that feeling is! I must be hungry."

"Wha ... when's the last time you ate?"

"I don't know, I don't remember. I had some honey a while ago, could have been last night."

Daniel slapped his hand to his forehead in disbelief. "Lieu ... Cutter! You've spent the last week in bed having sex! You haven't eaten at all? You must be starving!"

"Well, now that you diagnose it, I am," Cutter laughed, "which is good! I was afraid that old human saying was true, what is it? 'Too much of a good thing' or something? I was terrified that sex was starting to hurt."

Daniel sighed, "Then you should come to lunch with me."

"Esema. Should I ask Stella?"

"No!" Daniel almost screamed, "Uh, no, no. She'll be fine." He needed Cutter away from all distractions. Especially those the androids provide.

"All right. Where do you want to go?" Cutter asked as stepped inside his quarters and pulled a shirt off the floor.

"Huh? Oh, I know a place," Daniel said.

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

The high energy subnucleaic subspace particle physics lounge, wedged between the control room for the ship's toroidal lepton collider and dynamic cochrane field generater. This room hasn't seen a woman of any species since it was constructed on Mars Planitia, instead it was filled with the most boring men alive. As Daniel and Cutter entered, their ears were bombarded with uproarious, 'Nyah, Nyahahs' from the two men in the corner - nerd laughs. This was the perfect place, there would be nothing to distract Cutter's wandering mind here!

"Why are we here?" Cutter asked, slight disgust in his voice.

"I-, uh ..., it's, uh, it's, it's quiet," Daniel said, walking over to the replicator.

"Nyah! You get it? He thought his muons were pions! Nyah, Nyahah!" the scientist in the corner yelled, followed by another round of honking laughter.

"Ohn..." Cutter sighed, then joined Daniel at the replicator. They sat at a table furthest away from the other two scientists in the room. "So, what's going on in the labs?"

"Uh, I take it that you haven't been doing your paperwork?" Daniel asked, knowing the answer well before the question formed in his head.

Cutter laughed at the question and stuck the first bite of food in his mouth. Daniel continued, "Well, its been interesting. I know chemistry was spending a good deal of time analyzing the pheromones of the androids. We've, uh, we've just been--"

"What are you talking about, what pheromones?" Cutter asked.

"The, uh...uh, oh. Uh, the androids, um...," Daniel began to explain, holding out his hand to Cutter like he was asking for something.

"Stella."

"Right. The androids, um, Stella included, emit these, uh, pheromones. They apparently only affect men, uh, increased aggressiveness, mating instincts, libido, um...etc. A good third of the male crew have been arrested for disorderly conduct or restricted to their quarters."

"What? That's ridiculous," Cutter stated. He clearly did not believe he was under any sort of influence.

"Well, its true. I can show you the reports. You're likely to hear a lot about them in the near future. A, uh, a board of ... uh, a Federation delegation has arrived, in order to judge the androids sentience and this pheromone control of theirs. Apparently, they want to call in most of the crew to testify."

"Hmm," Cutter mused, taking another bite. "Increased libido, ih?" he asked, as his mind started to drift to the lower regions of his body.

Yea, uh...well, um, I, I don't....I don't really want to talk... So? When do you plan on returning to work?" Daniel asked suddenly.

Cutter twitched slightly, as his eyes opened wide at the question. He sat for a moment, without responding as the question fought its way to recognition. Finally, he sighed. "Work, Danu, all you do is work. You should have found yourself an android."

"I'm, I'm allergic. You haven't thought about your work at all in the past few weeks?"

"No."

"Nyah, hah, I don't know what he was thinking. Everyone knows that verterons are highly unstable in a subspace field! Nyah, what a moron! Nyah!"

"Although, I don't know how I could have gone on as long as I have without conversations like that," he said, tilting his head to the two scientists across the room.

Daniel smiled at the sarcasm, "I know you've thought about it a little. Why did you decide to leave?"

The joviality slowly drained from Cutter's face, his wings sunk slightly behind him. Because he was a failure. Because he couldn't learn anything about the dimensional rift the Defiant was in, and therefore could do nothing to help all the crew that had transported over. Because he was becoming a machine. Because he had not had any fun, had not even flown since he had come aboard. He was Fruna'lin again now, his first home in the air (even if it was holographic), his second home in the sack (even if it was with an android). He was his own species again, instead of some fictional Starfleet conglomerate. Wasn't he? It felt good, the playing, the flying, the fucking. Didn't it? He just shrugged.

Disappointed, Daniel dropped his gaze to his plate and the two sat ate silently. Cutter was thinking of leaving, Daniel knew. He had seen the Starfleet rank and insignia tucked away in Cutter's desk. Packed up, like they would never be used again. But, it had been nearly a month since Cutter stopped reporting for duty. If he were going to leave, why hadn't he? He just needs something to bring him back in, Daniel thought. Once he comes back, and starts his research again, Cutter would be happy. He was a scientist after all, and all scientists were alike in that respect.

After several minutes of silence, Daniel finally spoke. "I, uh, I've been looking at hot Jupiter degenerates."

"What about them?" Cutter asked, perking up in his seat.

"I've been looking at electromagnetic phenomena in the atmosphere caused by seismic shifts in neutron core. I've been correlating stellar geological activity and data from the EM sensors from--"

"Danu! That's my research!" Cutter exclaimed.

"Well, uh, I, uh...well, you...you haven't been working on it, and it looked interesting, so I took it up." Daniel explained meekly. His gaze dropped back down to his plate, embarrassed.

"Danu, you thief! Well? What have you found?" Cutter asked, with a surprising amount of interest.

"Well, there is, of course, some amount of electromagnetic activity all the time, but there appear to be peaks in activity that match up with nearly every core quake--"

"Where in the atmosphere? Right above the point of seismic activity?"

"Uh, well, uh, yes. Because the core quakes release tremendous amounts of heat that ionizes the hydrogen in the atmosphere," Daniel explained.

Cutter rolled his eyes, "Ka, I know that. You found evidence to support that theory, though?"

"Oh, yes," Daniel nodded, taking a sip of water, "The curious thing is that the storms will sometimes oscillate on and off, depending on the strength of the seismic activity. Weaker quakes will produce long-lasting, steady storms that spread out over a third to a half of the atmosphere, but the stronger quakes produce incredibly powerful burst storms just over the point of energy release that fluctuate from very intense activity to almost zero activity. I can't figure out why."

"Atmospheric shockwaves," Cutter said. He held a slight grin on his face as he waited for Daniel's reaction.

"Uh, uh, wi, da...what?"

The Fruna'lin snickered at Daniel's confusion, "Atmospheric shockwaves," he repeated, watching for signs of understanding from Daniel, "Very strong degenerate core quakes produce shockwaves that resonate in the atmosphere. They start at the point of seismic activity and move across the planet until they reflect off themselves at the antipode. The pressure differences affect the particle density and ionization, and therefore affect the electromagnetic storms."

Daniel sat with his jaw slightly agape as the answer sank in. After a few moments, he continued, "That makes sense. I don't know why I didn't think about that. Well, we were planning to submit a request to perform a controlled experiment on the hot Jupiter degenerate in this system, Eta Rigel I. We want to launch a charge down to create an artificial quake and monitor the activity. We'll be sure to moniter the atmospheric density across the planet, now, though. We're having a meeting about it tomorrow, to plan out the experiment ... uh, at 13:00. You're more than welcome to come, of course, since it was initially your project."

"Sema, I'll be there."

Chad Vicenik
Lt. Cutter Kara'nin
Chief of Astrophysics
USS Galaxy A

"Moving Forward- Part One"

Lt. (JG) Ella Grey

Space, of course, was always black but Ella awoke at dawn anyway.

She yawned softly and then slowly slid out from under the arm of the man sleeping beside her. Which was no easy task as his arm was wrapped tightly around her waist. It was sweet but also annoying. Her shift was in a few hours and she wanted to take a sonic shower in her own quarters.

Once free, Ella dressed quietly, although she really didn't need to. His snores were loud enough to wake the dead and drown out the living. She chuckled softly, after a particularly loud snort, as she hunted in the dark for her shoes. Once found, she left and began the trek back to her own quarters, walking barefoot down the halls of Galaxy, with shoes in hand, because she felt like it.

The carpet felt firm under her bare feet. Like standard issue Federation carpet should, she thought dryly but without the amusement she might have felt a month or two ago. The whole fembot fiasco was slowly being resolved and everything had pretty much become routine again.

And again, the numbness she had felt directly after the Defiant incident was beginning to creep back up on her. Which was why she had turned to the lieutenant last night.

It had been fun, a diversion from emotions Ella didn't care to feel, but nothing she wanted to keep. They had both agreed it would only be a fling, no more no less. Besides, he couldn't be a diversion forever. Nothing worked that long.

Why hadn't Laura answered her letters?

She needed to know that the man who attacked her years ago was dead. She would be able to function again when he was dead.

Ella knew it.

And Daro Cole would take care of it, for a price, of course. But it would be worth it. To be able to walk into a room again without looking in corners, to walk down the halls themselves without the itchy impulse to glance over her shoulder. Daro would help her. If Laura relayed the message.

Laura, why won't you help me, Ella thought.

Because its wrong, Ella Marie, she could almost hear her old friend say in that scolding tone of hers.

But...

"Moving Forward-Part Two"

Laura Harper, APC
Lt. (jg) Ella Grey

"But I am hungry." Ella said, a look of incredulity on her face.

I looked back at the little girl sternly. Even at eight, she had looked like an angel, with bright blue eyes and a halo of long brown hair that had ended in curls. I had wanted to give her the cookie because of it, but I also knew I wouldn't budge.

You had to set boundaries somewhere, otherwise children would walk all over you. Especially Ella. I thought if my new employers had a problem with that, they could fire me.

"Not before dinner." I told her.

"Puh-lease" Ella begged me, her sapphire eyes wide, her lips pouty.

I shook my head and crossed my arms. "I said no."

Ella frowned, probably unaccustomed to the word 'no.' In a sense, she was a strange contradiction. Her parents spoiled her and she knew she had them twisted around her little finger because of it. On the other hand, Ella could be one of the most obedient children I knew, bending towards her parents will, especially when concerning things about her future.

Duty played an important part of her life in those early years.

But otherwise she usually got what she wanted, at least as far as food was concerned, I imagine.

I could see the wheels turn in her little head as she processed the information, saw her debate whether to throw a tantrum, ask again, or just accept the fact that I was not going to let her snack before dinner.

Especially since I had cooked her favorite desert, or so I was told by the butler.

Finally Ella nodded, almost to herself. "All right, Ms. Harper." She said and went off to her music room.

She grinned at me later when I served german chocolate cake for desert.

****

Ella was playing with the engagement ring on her finger absently when I came into the music room. The boy, Thomas, had proposed to her about a year ago, exactly one year to the day they had begun to date. The wedding was set for when Ella and Thomas graduated from school.

Kids were planned to pop out a year or two after that. They would undoubtedly be named after one of his relatives. He had also proposed through her parents, who of course were thrilled. The Candells were highly regarded in their particular society.

I couldn't stand the little snot; he thought he was God's gift and had the most nasally voice I've ever heard.

Secretly, I was beginning to think Ella felt the same.

"What's it like being married, Laura?" the fifteen year old asked me as she continued to twist the ring around her finger. It was a beautiful little rock- with absolutely no personality. Ella had always wanted a sapphire engagement ring, ever since she was ten. She shrugged when I had asked her about it. 'He didn't know' was her response.

He also didn't know Ella had wanted a wedding on the beach (it would be indoors), hated lilies (her bouquet would be made of lilies because her mother in law wanted them), and hated raspberry filling (the wedding cake would be made with raspberry filling because her mother wanted it).

To ease her mind, I told her some cute little stories about me and the ex Mr. Harper. And then, to balance it out, about how it would have been the perfect marriage if he hadn't cheated on me with some floozy from Neptune. And Qo'nos. And Risa.

She sighed and then decided play with a puzzle I had given her for Christmas. Ella was scheduled to be practicing her new songs for the tour, her life was now made up of more schedules than the President it seemed, but I let her play. She was still a child after all, despite her parents claims to the world that Ella only took joy out of singing her heart out.

I knew differently.

I think the girl had been happy that the first album had gone latinum. I know, however, that it didn't mean she wanted to sing the rest of her life, as her parents planned. But Ella assured me she wouldn't.

Her fiancé wanted her to be a house wife instead. Make that a social house wife.

It was the only point on which husband-to-be and parents disagreed. They wanted her to be the most popular mezzo-soprano in every quadrant.

Ella had decided to wait it out, to see which side won, figuring either way...

****

I crept into the room, thinking that Ella might still be asleep. But I should have known better. She was sitting at the window seat and turned her head at the sound. She acknowledged me with a nod and then turned back to contemplate the dawn.

The doctors had been excellent in repairing the damage to her body but Ella still looked at the world with hollow eyes, darkened by shadows, and a pale face.

It had been two weeks since Copernicus and she still hadn't spoken.

It hurt me to see her like that. I couldn't help partially blame myself for not being there when she had needed me. At least I could be there now.

"I was just going to drop off these." I half-whispered as I put her folded clothes on the dresser.

Ella nodded again.

I walked over to her and she automatically moved her feet for me to sit down, like she used to do I'd steal a few minutes away from putting the Grey's home in perfect order and she'd steal a few minutes away from being their perfect daughter.

"Sweetheart," I said gently. "It's going to be okay."

Ella's lips twitched but she still said nothing. She turned to me and I was surprised that underneath all the pain I saw on her face, I could also see some kind of determination or strength I'd never seen before. And I understood.

"Y..You're not going to speak again, are you?" I stammered.

She smiled, the first real smile I'd seen from her since it happened, and nodded.

"Oh, Ella!" I practically cried and pulled her into a hug. I doubted the Grey's had thought to hug her. They loved her but they expressed their love through support of her music.

She allowed me to hug her but when I was done, she turned back to the window, the wheels turning.

****

Ella sat surrounded cross-legged on her bed, encircled by computer PADD's, leather bound books, and crumpled up pieces of paper. "School project?" I asked as I came in with her lunch. Ella sometimes forgot to eat nowadays.

Ella handed me a PADD without looking as she continued to read off of another one. I looked at the menu, puzzled at what I saw there. "Freudian theories of sexuality?" I asked. She looked up, her mouth making an 'o' shape before rummaging through the PADD's again till she found the one she wanted. We exchanged them and this time I read the message that had been intended for me.

"No, I don't need any help with dinner but thank you." I responded. I looked down and marveled at the diversity of the material I saw there. There were a lot of old books on psychology, technical manuals for starships and shuttlecraft, something about Federation Laws, slang of the twentieth centaury, and more things my old eyes couldn't put into focus.

I sat on the edge of the bed. Ella barely acknowledged my presence as the mattress dipped her down and then back up. She stared intently at the PADD she had in her hand. "What's all this for, dear?" I asked her.

Ella shrugged and then wrote a quick note on her notepad, probably because there wasn't a PADD to spare, and pushed it toward me. -Homework.- it read.

I knew for a fact that none of these were in any of her courses for school.

Ella must have sensed that I was dissatisfied because she took the time to elaborate her response. -Just catching up on some things I wanted to study but never had the time to before.-

She had the time now. Ella had flat out refused to sing anymore. It had been four months since Copernicus.

I looked at her somewhat horrified. The sheer amount of knowledge that was sitting on the bed would have overwhelmed a Vulcan academic. "You don't have to do it all in one sitting." I told her. That she should be so young and feel like her life wouldn't be long enough to study these things at a normal human rate, I had another sudden longing to go hunt down whoever had hurt her and..and...

But Ella shook her head as if she could hear my thoughts.

-Its not about that- she wrote- I'm just on a tight schedule, that's all.-

Tight schedule? "Freudian sexuality?" I asked again.

-I have a meeting with my therapist today- Ella wrote and then winked.

Later on I would find that her therapist had respectfully declined to work with Ella any longer. Something about being the hidden sexual desire of Ella's unconsciousness. That made two therapists gone in under two weeks.

"Ella Marie!" I had scolded her.

****

I sat by the door in the living room, with clear view of the stairwell, as Ella snuck into the house. I cleared my throat loudly just as she was taking the first step.

Ella turned quickly. But she didn't look guilty. Didn't blush. We stared at each other.

"You've been doing this for two weeks." I told her. God knows what she'd been up to for the past year. "Sneaking out every night. It's time we talked."

Ella shrugged as she came into the room. Prepared, I handed her a notepad and pencil. A faint smile came across her lips. She sat down gracefully across from me, crossed her legs, and balanced the notepad on them. I could see grease smudges on her hands, sans engagement ring, and clothes.

"You've been seeing that mechanic." I said. God knew where she had met him; her parents had had a collective heart attack when they had first met 'Chaz'.

Ella nodded. She wrote on the paper and then turned it so I could see. -Yes, I have.-

"And I see you've forgotten your ring." After graduating high school, Ella had 'told' Thomas Candell that she wanted to push back the wedding. Thomas Candell, the Candell's, and the Gre