"A Little Faith..."
By Lieutenant Commander Corgan
And Lieutenant Savoir (authorized in case of an emergency)
Guest starring various galaxy staff (unauthorized, but mostly just dinky stuff)

Location: The shuttle Opaka, Quentite surface.
Soundtrack: "Spirit In The Sky" By Norman Greenbaum (liftoff song)

OOC: A Very short little post to put me on the shuttle, and a witness to "A Little Faith..." Very minor and showing a slightly important personal story element.

"The Racing Mind"

Lt. jg Dr. Klaus Fienberg
Unauthorised appearance of everyone on the shuttle, primarily Dr. Reynolds.
According to the events of "A little faith." No speaking roles...everything muted by a heartbeat.

Timeframe: During "A Little Faith" and in the same place but not directly involved.

The Mind of Klaus Fienberg.

-So now we must leave this god forsaken place. Good Riddance.-

The Asscension of the shuttle began and the rough clearing of the atmosphere and once free the view came to that of the current predicament in the view of the shuttle window. Very little could be seen from the Klaus' position...but it was enough to send his heart racing.

-What is this?? My God!-

He was completely mute....the others on board the shuttle....he could not actually accertain they're facial expressions....He looked Dr. Reynolds straight in the face....and felt nothing. Her mouth moved....but there was no sound, only his own racing heart. He nodded in acknowledgment....not even knowing what he was nodding too.

He returned his view to the main window of the shuttle....shock and horror flowed through his body. He watched as all of the shuttle's occupants talked...no sound, only the moving of mouths in the silence that only interrupted by the heartbeat.

Thoughts rushed over the shocked man. He was aware of things...but not. He was in the danger with them, but outside.

These recent events....these things he's seen.

Then two names popped into his head as he looked at the Limping Galaxy.

Just under his breath...and not to the attention of the others....."Kay. Eric."

The feeling that the shuttle was no longer in the control of the pilots washed over.

"Clipshow"
Lt. jg. Dr. Klaus Fienberg.....in different parts of his life.
Also starring people he's known through the years of his life.

Soundtrack: Well....it never actually is in the Post.....but the hidden 3 Doors Down song "This Time" fits the most. It's what partly gave me the idea to write this now.

Location: USS Rennville
Timeframe: 2351, June 28th.

NOTE: The Rennville Crew uses the older style of Uniform seen in the late 2280s. The Captain always prefered this uniform style and revived it for the Rennville crew once he took command. The newer Commbadges are still in use though.

"Papa? You're late."

The very young boy Greeted his father. The Old Uniform showed the rank of Lt. Cmdr. on the shoulder....The warm blue collar almost glowed in the light. It was late.....a small accident in science kept the Middle aged doctor late.

"Hello my Boy! Come give your father a hug." Otto Fienberg knealed down to his son.

The blond toddler hugged his father gingerly. Otto stayed knealed afterward. "Has you Mother come home yet?"

"No Pappa..." "The Captain has been keeping us on our toes all week. But soon we'll be out of this station."

Being the Ship's Doctor and a Senior Officer as a result, The Fienberg Family's quarters was a large suite with a view.....a view currently in the view of the Utopia Planetia and Mars. Otto picked up his son and stood. Then walked to the largest window. "You're up late little man. Did the Baby Sitter treat you well?"

"Ja. I wanted to wait you you and mom." Despite being barely 3, Little Klaus was vert smart and very talkative.

The Family used English primarely, but still taught their son their native languages.

The Door opened....and a staggeringly exhausted red haired woman entered. "That bastard. Enough! I'm asking for leave tommorrow. 12 straight hours in that blasted room. All of this new blood getting me overworked. None of them know how to do ANYTHING." The Firery Cheif Engineer.

"He got you too Shannon? A lot of New Nurses and MDs. I lost my assistant. He got promoted and transferred. I didn't even get to say good bye. I went in today and he was gone. Figures that arrogant vulcan wouldn't say a word."

Otto Bounced his son slightly and put him down. "Time for you to sleep now little man." "Ok papa."

The toddler staggered into his room.

=/\=Dr. Fienberg. Please report to shuttlebay one. We've had a minor accident.=/\= "It never ends...." =/\= On my way.=/\=

Shannon followed him.

His mother helped him brush his teeth. She knew that she wanted him to become an Engineer someday....

Shortly afterward he lay in his bed.

"Someday you will be a great man." She tucked in her son......she never knew what was about to happen. Klaus would not see his mother alive again.

Location: Berlin, Earth.
Timeframe: 2360, september 23rd

A Slightly battered and bruised 12 year old Klaus walked in the front door. His eyes filled with rage. The Fienberg home was not only a residence, but a small doctor's office.

Otto charged up to young Klaus, quickly smacking him upside the head. It didn't phase the Boy. "You hotheaded little bastard! You beat up another one! And you know what! They're going to come here.....but nonetheless you need to control you temper! God, you're just like your mother."

"I barely knew my mother....so how can I be like her?"

"Nevermind that.....I don't wish to speak of it....go to your room and stay there until I call for you. That boy will come here soon, and YOU will tend to his injuries." Klaus was still enraged, but not as much. "He was asking for it. He called my a Fleet Brat!"

Otto was even more angry."You let a little insult like that set you off? Go! I will call for you!"

Klaus went to his room and began to sulk....but something new happened.....a feeling of complete and total worthlessness and helplessness came over him.

-Why do I do these things? Why to I make my father angry. What is the point of all of this. I suddenly have pain? Pain in my heart. Pain for my mother. A woman I barely knew. Soon after I came here. All I've had to do since I've been here is fight.....Yet if I beat all of my enemies....more will come. SO theres no point. But then there is a point.... I have gained a reputation, and many will want to fight me.....-

"KLAUS! Come!"

The Depressed state that had come over the boy had disapated temporarily....but it puzzles us all how these events started it.

The Boy was there....and afraid. "I am sorry Han. I will mend you."

Location: Berlin, Earth.
Timeframe: 2366, June 20th.

The Entire Senior class of South Berlin High School was assembled. They were in their Robes .....but the ceremonies were over. They were dispersed on the Soccor Field, caps were strooned around the ground. Otto Fienberg was a definitley older. He had grown bald, and his temples had gone grey. The old good doctor. He was conversing with his son and his son's closer friends. The incredible feeling of pride almost overwhelmed him. Unfortunately......this would be one of the few moments he would have with his son.

In a Month he would be in a coma.....teminally ill. Shortly afterward, His son would be be a cadet in Starfleet Academy. Otto Fienberg would die in his son's arms a year later.

NRPG: Well, Perhaps I should establish something. You don't often think of human in Star Trek as being religious.....I will point out right now that Klaus Fienberg IS a practicing Christian. I dunno, I think it's a tightwalk thing to do.....but I am versed in the religion(I was born a Catholic, and know of ALOT of it, but I can research it, theres at least mor than one testament in this house somewhere.) I DIdn't mention it in the Bio for certain reasons.....but it's important to know this.

"Clipshow" Pt.2
Lt. jg Dr. Klaus Fienberg, at different points and ranks in his life.
Other figured from his past. Primarily Lt. jg Liz Stonewall,
One of The Patton's Engineers, and
Lt. Cmdr. Lacy Trang, Counseller for the USS Sturmovik.
Ensign Vhistan "V" Marratta of Security for the USS Aries.

Location: USS Patton, Excelsior class.
Timeframe: 2373, May 1st.

Small bit of History: The Patton had been assigned to assist in the clean up of Sector 01 following the second Borg Incursion. While the initial Fleet seemed adequate, numerous small fleets had been recalled to assist in the battle. The Patton was amoung them....but didn't arrive until immediately following the destruction of the cube. And thus The Long Cleanup process began, as well as the long medical service.

The Patton's entire crew was strained, and Captain Ashiro Mukai had turned into an evil dictator, and had kept things up and running despite the fact that the ship had gone into refit and the cleanup was long over. The Refit was somewhat major and the ship would be in drydock until most likely September. She had sustained major damage when the torpedo magazine of a wrecked ship exploded in close proximity.

"Here in the bar again I see." The Stern young southern woman confronted the blue collared dirty blond, who by this time was blind drunk. "Not now Liz. That bastard Muka-----"

"NO EXCUSES! You're totally plastered and only have YOURSELF to blame!" Klaus was intoxicated beyond beleif....having had access to the bartender's special stuff....despite the fact that Mukai himself like to get a little stinko and actually allowed for consumption of actual Alchohol, just not in excess. Public Drunkeness in his prescence was severely punished.

"Please Liz....It takes the pain away."

"No, it only drowns it out.....when you wake up....It'll be back.....but I wont. Go ahead and continue to love the one thing you seem to love more than me." Klaus reached out feebly for Liz as she stormed out, and then the arm fell limp. He went and drowned out the new pain the only way he knew how at this point.

Time jump: December 8th, same year.

10 forward was bustling with activity for a late night. Klaus was still here, drinking and crying away his pain. An obviously southern voiced man in civilian clothes approached him. "Dr. Fienberg, you old drunk. Here again? You are really hurting Liz, My Sister, with this sh*t. She wants you back. But you still drive her away."

"She hasn't approached me."

"You've got a powerful booze powered Deflector there boy."

The instigator grabbed Klaus' uniform, and lifted the drunk up."I could just tell the captain of your antics....but I'd rather knock you around, since I have no problem goin back to prison!"

The man forcefully pushed Dr. Fienberg and he nearly stumbled. Klaus stood up, in a defensive posistion. "I don't want to fight...I will not resort to violence."

"Yea, but I will."

The man slugged Klaus straight in the forhead, A little higher that he originally aimed. The good doctor fell straight back on his ass. The Bartender on duty did a silent call for security at this point.

After a few kicks, Klaus had had enough. His eyes filled with rage...and almost became another person. He sprung up giving a jab straight in the abdomen and then a second uppercut straight up on the bottom of the jaw. 2 shots was all it took for Klaus to put the man on the ground. He stood over his opponent. Standing there. Staring at him...only rage shown through the eyes. The man lay there, partly in fear, partly in anger.

Liz had seen it all. "No...." Almost immediately several gold collars sprung in and restrained Klaus, he immediately submitted, reaching out for Liz.....she ran. It was finally and truely over. It would not be easily repaired now.

Far worse was the fact that the next week showed the transfer of Lt. JG Elizabeth Stonewall to the USS Defiant. She remained aboard and was killed when the ship was destroyed at the hands of the Breen. Klaus wouldn't find out until late 2376.

Location: USS Aries, In orbit of Cardassia
Timeframe 2375, December 24th.

The war was over. The horrible war that had plagued the peaceful Federation for so long was finally over.

It was Christmas Eve for the Christianic element of the Aries Crew. But it was no all happiness and merrymaking. Despite being primarily Christmas, this day was declared a general day of celebration for the entire crew. There was a big party, all crew that attended were in dress uniform. Klaus made a resolution not to get drunk on this eve which was so holy to him. For the most part he was buzzed, and a little depressed......but it was better than that outburst 2 years ago.

There were 2 shiny new metals pinned on Klaus' dress uninform. Modified by the way. A Battle of DS9 Medal and a Dominion Cluster. The CMO of the Aries asked that modified versions be given to the medical staff of the ship.....and are only different in this way. They have a simple difference. A hippocratic Symbol in the center......barely noticable. Since the Aries participated in the battle of Cardassia, Klaus was supposed to receive a medal for that......but had only one thing to say. 'NO! No more medals! I'm a Damn Doctor not a career soldier!'

And now he was staring out of the Aries' Ten forward center window. Cardassia Prime on the right, and deep space on the left. He was alone, holding an empty wine glass. An Ensign by the name of Vhistan Marratta, an andorian, approached his friend. "Klaus? Come on! Join the festivities!"

"Why should I V? What did I do?"

"You helped save live my friend, thats far more noble that picking up a phaser and firing it."

"You are a soldier....you've seen horrible things..." V nodded. "...Imagine looking at some of this horrible injuries and then being expect to fix them......sometimes it's too much. So I sit around helping everyone and being scarred with the injuries and scars of others and then having medals pinned on my chest!"

"Klaus, you're really being too hard on yourself my friend. Yes, you have seen some horrible things.....but more of those people are alive now.....and lacking these gaping wounds, severed body parts and such. They are alive because or YOU and the rest of the medical staff, you should be proud....." V had become uncharacteristically angry. "Seeing you like this makes me angry you'd sooner put somebody in front of you and give him the credit for everything good you've done just so you can sit in the corner in the human fetal posisition and just beat yourself up FOR PUTTING YOUR CREDIT ON SOMEONE ELSE!!!" V had lost it.....but he knew that Klaus needed to get yelled at.

Klaus looked at him, studying his friend.....and more importantly.....his subordinate.

"Beings that I am a Lieutnant, and you are an Ensign.......I have seniority. I order you to....join the festivities....I shall come with you!"

V pointed like some guy from NYC might and laughed......but Klaus' face didn't change from the clever smirk, until V started to....lose his constitution and get nevrous.....once that happen, Klaus gave a big toothy smile.

A Rare recovery of the mind from Depression....something that would be much harder in the coming years.....

Location: USS Sturmovik, Klaus Fienberg's Quarters.
Timeframe: 2377 February 15th

The Pain had returned, coming in big dark swarms. Different Pains from his life. The Pain for his mother. The Pain for this Father. The Pain for his loves lost. The Pain for those he lost during duty, on his watch. The Pain for the horrors of war. The Pain for the self Hating misery. The Pain for the Pain. Washed up and pulled him under like the rip tides off of beaches, ripping him out, then under deeper and deeper.

He sat there on his bed staring at his clenched fists. Looking at them.....studying them.

He had been avoiding people all week, trying to make sure that nobody would notice him.....say.....if he had disappeared.....you know....just vanished. His eyes wandered again.......coming to rest on his glass table. His picked up his medical kit and smashed it down as hard as he could.....breaking it.....he picked up a lard shard of the glass.......

Location: Main Counselling Office, USS Sturmovik.
Time: 2377, April 4th

"Hello Dr. Fienberg.......I suppose we'll begin immediately then...."

"Somewhere I Belong, Part 3"

By

Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer,
USS Galaxy

Unauthorized appearance by Karyn Dallas

**On board the timeship**

"Time to go, Mr. Curran."

Curran snapped awake. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep. He angrily looked about the hole he'd been shuffled away in; Karyn Dallas was noticeably absent.

He focused on the voice calling out to him. The lights had been raised once again and now his eyes had fully adjusted.

"You sound rather saddened, Captain. Come to dispose of me? Is the game up?"

"Not at all, Mr. Curran. We've come to send you home. I've come to die."

Curran furrowed his brow has he leveled himself off the biobed as it lowered him at a 45 degree angle to allow him off. All the electronics in his room had been deactivated.

"So, you've had no luck at determining the instigators of this exercise in futility?"

"Unfortunately, no. Our systems took too much of a shock when the time displacement wave caught up to us in our century." He stepped back to show the forcefield was no longer in effect. Curran followed him out.

Sickbay was devoid of any life. No crew, no patients, nothing. It was as quiet as a mausoleum.

"Please follow me, Mr. Curran. We have to go. There is no time left, and your friends are waiting." Dragos took a step forward, placed his hands on the corridor bulkhead trigger, sliding it open. Even the walls had stopped moving.

"They aren't my friends, and where are we going?"

"They will be your friends soon, since we only have enough power to send all of you to one place. Or rather, one time." The walls resonated with chill. Behind Curran, the lights dimmed off in the medical section.

"Stop being so cryptic on this Dragos!" He reached out to clasp the alien's shoulder, spinning him around. He was met without much of a struggle.

"We have another piece of technology that was never revealed to the other incursion subjects picked up by our ships." He shook up Curran's grip in the shadows. Dim lights, possibly a futuristic version of auxiliary backups, cast elongated shadows about them as Dragos pushed forward.

"Our transporter system can send you to specific time periods as well as locations, Legate. Most of my crew have already beamed off into their choices, but this ship cannot remain in the timestream without a crew. It's complicated, but we're only operating on a skeleton crew to make one last effort to save our present. Your future. We have enough power to send you and your team to one location of your choosing. My crew and I will remain to do what we can, before we destroy this ship."

Curran could respect the choice Dragos had made. He would do the same thing. Why come out of space to have your whole life altered without a choice? You might blink out of existence, to never have lived or breathed. That was not a honorable death. To have never been known? No. Curran would rather die in battle himself. Serving his mandates. The Federation it would seem has grown some backbone in the future.

"I take it you are going to beam us back into the timestream and remove the weapon of mass destruction?"

"No, that is too tricky, even for our future technology. We have not been able to determine the point of origin of the weapon. If we beam you in at a guess, you could either merge with your own counterparts, which would kill you with a great amount of pain when you re-materialize, or we would beam you in with the weapon, still killing you."

They stopped before a door.

"What if you went back before the timeslips began? To stop it before it started?"

"Impossible. We would be detected by the four starships in the sector, disrupting the timeline. Also, if we stopped it before it began, you and your crew would never have beamed down, and you would have to stay on board this ship for the remainder of your lives, as your counterparts would be intact in your own timeline."

"Temporal mechanics was never my strong suit. Where have the crew selected as their time and location?"

"We were limited by distance, and of course the further from your own temporal signature, the more impaired you would become." The door parted, and Curran spotted Dallas and Galali conversing. A raised platform pulsed and glimmered behind them.

"We have no choice but to deposit you on Quentin. The temporal displacement waves have made it habitable. The Galaxy and Nimitz can be salvaged to survive." Curran was taken aback.

"I'm not going to that place with her." Dallas threw him a cold glare.

"I feel the same as you, Legate, but for the greater good, I'm getting over it. So should you."

"Yes, you two do make a fine couple." A small smile tugged at Jacen's lips.

"Do you know something we don't? Of course you do, you're time travellers." Curran eyed him warily.

"Yes, well, Temporal Prime Directive. It's been broken enough already today. Have to keep something back." He winked at Dallas. The first sign of good spirits. "Now, if everyone will please take their places?"

Everyone climbed the platform, even Curran with a sour look.

"Stay the hell away from me, Dallas." Dragos' hands descended to the console.

"Good luck. You never know, if we are successful, you might find yourselves back on the Galaxy with the none for the wear."

"Energizing." He placed his hand over the pad to initialize the sequence.

"Somewhere I Belong, Part 4"

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer,
USS Galaxy

**On board the Timeship**

The ship shuddered, and the power lights danced around them.

The Bridge crew of the Ma'at glanced up from the ovular console in the center of the Bridge. Consoles flared sparks, smoke wafted, the ship groaned. The green mosaic shimmied and twisted on itself, veins erupting along the quarterpanels.

Slowly the reserves kicked in and brought a semblance of life to the dying ship. Someone patted a wall near the science station, whispering to it consolately.

"Captain to the Bridge!"

[What happened? I lost all power down here!]

"Captain!" Kevalos' voice thundered across the bridge from the tactical console at the center table. "Reserves are down to 30% power remaining. Autoamtic failsafes are shutting down all non-essential systems. Transporters are now offline."

[Looks like you'll be staying with us until the end, Mr. Curran] Dragos voice was echoed as he parlayed the news to the group. [You might as well come to the Bridge with me instead of standing around. It's getting a might chill in here. I take it environmental controls are offline as well,
Kevalos?]

"Aye, sir. All power is re-routed to the bridge access control systems only." A creature, the one who had whispered to the wall, anxiously tried to get Kevalos attention. Its wings fluttered behind it in excitement. They were small, thankfully, or the Terran female beside him might have been a bit irritated at getting tail feather in the mouth.

"What is it, Gareth? Have you found something on sensors?"

"I believe so, sir! Come, take a look at the logs...." The female, who'd been taking a scan of Gareth's readings, grew anxious herself and also gestured the Hydran to come over.

*** Further below the ship ***

"We'll need to use the Jeffries tube and access ladders to get to the Bridge." Dragos pried open a bulkhead with the emergency lever, pumping it as it opened.

"Some things never change, I guess. These look exactly the same as the Galaxy accessways, but larger." They each clamoured in. Dallas floated in behind with her hoverchair, ducking down so that her head would clear.

"Yes, the ship has accommodated for Ms. Dallas here."

"The ship has accommodated?" They crawled through, jacking open bulkheads as they went.

"Yes, the ship is a lifeform in itself. You don't much about the Hydrans, do you, Mr. Curran?" He grunted as he pried open another bulkhead.

"There are a lot of species I am unfamiliar with, Captain. I'm a diplomat. I've never had dealings with the Hydrans. They were beaten soundly last century by the Rihannsu. In 2295. We've never heard from them again."

"Then you also don't know why you've never heard from them again, I take it."

"Common knowledge states they simply withdrew."

"That's the Federation talking. They were forgotten about, Legate." With a loud grunt, the last door opened to the Bridge. Dragos climbed out first, to be surrounded by his officers and crew. Curran and company climbed out without fanfare.

"What's the ship's status, Kevalos?"

The huge Hydran, glaring evilly at Curran, continued without hesitation.

"Reserves are holding at 27%. Engineering was severing power to the tunnels behind you to conserve power. There is nowhere else on the ship habitable for life at this time. We are trapped on the Bridge." He snapped upright.

"We are prepared to initiate auto-destruct at your order, sir."

"Very good, Kevalos. Now, what was it you came up with Mr. Gareth?" Dragos purposefully marched to the center console, ignoring those on the upraised dais around them. The bird-man perked up at his Captain's voice, and on his arrival, pointed at various aspects of the display.

"Can I have some power to display this holographically? It is so difficult to think in four dimensions on a two-dimensional display.

Dragos gave a nod to a crewman seated at the console, who initated the hologram. Instantly, a console up on the upper dais winked out. The Terran woman manning it was surprised, but held her cool. She moved down to the center console to stand alongside the others.

Curran approached cautiously. No one tried to stop him.

The blue shadows cast upon the sallow faces. The conversation was not in terms he could understand, but he caught pieces such as 'Galaxy', 'shuttle', 'incursion', which obviously led him to believe that it had something to do with him.

"What is it, Dragos?" He was mesmerized by the azure cubic grid that floated above the console. It rotated and was streaked with beams of light.

"My science officers have detected the temporal incursions your crew made at the focal point. We now know the story of what occurred, for they have repaired it."

"Have you located the alien instigator?"

"We're working backwards on that now. While my science crews are determining that, let us discuss what has occurred. It may be of import to you. It certainly has made out job easier, even if it was for nought."

"Will it affect our negotiations with the Quentite and Quentinshari peoples? Are they even alive?" Jonas Galali, silent for so long, finally spoke up.
He was obviously in denial of the whole thing.

"It will make no difference if we can get you two back into the transporter stream."

"Then what are you waiting for?!" Galali's shell was finally cracking, but what was coming out wasn't coherent as a diplomat.

"Ambassador, I suggest you take a seat just... over... there." He pointed to a dead console. Kevalos strode up to take his Captain's side.

Galali gulped. "Yes, sir." He meekly bowed his head and took a seat, staring around with wide-open eyes.

"A deer caught in lights."

"What?" Curran was confused.

"An old Terran analogy. This whole experience has been too much for him." He pondered for a short several seconds. He nodded at Kevalos.

"Thank you old friend." He took Curran's shoulder. Karyn was wisely remaining silent behind them.

"Let me tell you a most wondrous story of your fellow crew, Mr. Curran. It might change your opinions on the courage and devotion they have."

"Somewhere I Belong, Part 5"

By
Legate Kylar Curran
Chief Liaison Officer
USS Galaxy

Unauthorized use of Karyn Dallas

"The shuttle that came up from the surface of the planet housed most of the crew that initially went down. A few brave souls remained, even if it meant they were to die. The planet was dying, Legate. The temporal waves had disrupted the natural order of time, and moved it onwards towards its impending destruction." He pointed to a streak of light on the display.

"Here is where the incursion that took place that destroyed your Galaxy and the other three ships." He touched a key and it zoomed in to display blip
points with registry numbers.

"The shuttle was carrying a survivor of the crash that had not yet happened in a sense. If they had left the survivor behind, they would have
successfully docked with the Galaxy.

"The shuttle in carrying the out-of-time former Engineer of the USS Galaxy, disrupted the already fragile timeflow and brought a chroniton wave up with it. When it came into visual cue of the vessels, it triggered the causality effect. The wave effectively 'ripped' a hole in space, a rift. The Galaxy saucer section, having separated from the engineering pylon, was drawn into the rift with the Nimitz and Pershing. Hood was destroyed."

"Incredible." The scene replayed itself in numbers and telemetry in front of Curran.

"Yes, but tragic. The shuttle was drawn into it as well. This was where we had initially lost contact, but our Science Officer located the ship signatures in the past."

"How do you do all this?" He was in awe of all going on. It was like there was a third-party observer to the events.

"This is 30th century technology, Legate. And you know it would violate my Directives if I told you. There is hope for you to return, so even in the face of death, I still cannot remit that information to you." He continued on.

"The Nimitz and Galaxy impacted with the planet's surface. The Pershing fell into a degraded orbit. It eventually fell to the planet 24 hours later, causing the temporal malfunctions in the first place.

"You see, there was another Guardian of Forever on the planet's surface. It had been hidden from view under mountain and oceans for eons. When the Galaxy crashed, it unearthed the ruins. When the Pershing crashed, it broke the Guardian. A piece impacted with the device, shearing off the top.

"Strange thing happened though, that is simply amazing to say the least."

"The survivors worked together in the face of disaster?"

"No. There was a survivor, yes. But he was dancing on the scanner logs. He seemed to be daring the Gods. 'Ha! Smeg you all! You can never beat the Lysman'. Then, as the Pershing fell to the planet, a complement of pianos fell to the planet around him. Dozens. He managed to avoid them for the most part. 'I'm too damned important, smeggers! You can't keep this man down! No piano will ever take me!'"

"Lysander." Kylar always thought that man the biggest idiot to put on a Federation uniform.

"Either way, it was almost like the remains of the forward section of Pershing that hadn't broken up in the atmosphere took a physical turn on its way down."

Curran was taken aback. "Last ditch effort to land safely?"

"Possibly, but their trajectory would've landed them safely anyways. Last thing this... Lysander said was 'Shit' as he saw it coming at him. Then the 42 ton fragment dropped on him."

"Looks good on him. What happened next?"

"The shuttle landed and set up triages. They located survivors and hustled them to the caves when the Pershing came down later. The survivor, one Dhanishta Eshe, who had come with them in the previous timeline, encountered her own self, 30 years younger.

"While the others were arguing over what to do, Dhanishta and her twin commandeered their shuttle and flew it into the Guardian at the best possible moment to come out just before the rift opened. They then flew the shuttle into the rift and breached their warp core.

"They closed the rift before the Galaxy could come back, and sealed the incursion. The four ships now sit in orbit about the planet with the Galaxy crew safely on board that arrived in the shuttle. The survivor they had brought disappeared out of existence. They were able to beam up the remaining crew on the surface as they storms had receded enough."

"So now we sit and wait like they do?"

"Not at all. I believe my temporal officer here has located our alien ship. Who are our instigators, Houle?"

"They are as we feared." The blue-skinned humanoid whispered resolutely. "Hydran."

Curran glanced to Kevalos, who sighed, and closed his five eyes heavily. He could see the talons clench the table. Dragos didn't glance over at all. His head was draped.

"What's the matter? Why aren't you doing anything?"

"There are histories already written that this affects, Legate. Without going into detail, we are at odds here. You see, if we interfere with the Hydran ship, it will spark hostilities beyond what even your mind can understand. This ship will not stand against it. Hydrans do not fire on their own. Something the human species have yet to understand.

"We will just have to do what we can outside of it."

"Why not have Kevalos talk to them?"

"Kevalos is from a time and place not of theirs. They do not think the same way. They would never accept his word."

Dragos took a deep breath.

"Tactical, locate the Hydran craft in time window 04A.365. Obtain its transponder code, access the transporter logs and get eh exact reference of the beamout of the weapon."

"Aye, sir."

"Curran, Dallas, Ambassador, your party, please take a stance on the pad over by the Engineering station. We will be beaming you in the moment we come out of timewarp."

"Won't that destroy you, though Jacen?" Karyn and her dollying compassion for life couldn't resist.

"Yes, it will, but we'll be saving trillions of lives at the same time."

"Access logs obtained. Point of transport obtained. Time frame transmitted to temporal analysis. Transport of organic material imminent."

The out-of sync Federation team stood on the cramped pad.

"Thank you." Someone on the team whispered, but they never knew who.

"Energize." The ship dropped out of time. Everything disappeared in a flash of light.

"Somewhere I Belong, Part 6"

By
Legate Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer
USS Galaxy

*** On board the Ma'at ***

Dragos watched the last of the Galaxy crew shimmer away, then turned his back on them.

The ship was shaking violently. They'd come out of time within weapons range of the Hydran, not that they were able to fire on the living vessel.

"Time displacement waves coming every 3 seconds, sir!" Dragos looked up and without expression, watched as his Bridge transformed itself around him into a myriad of designs. Time was rebuilding his ship.

Other consoles blew out, throwing sparks in a rain of light over another officer.

"Have we got a lock on the Hydran ship?" He screamed over the roar of incoming time. It was a train meeting its fate.

"We have, sir! We have its transponder code!" Another shudder and the crewman disappeared.

"Kevalos! Get over there and lock onto the weapon! Bring it on board! Helm! Keep this ship together!"

The huge Hydran leapt over a rail that disappeared into a lower stairwell as he crossed the Bridge.

"Energizing!" The transporter glittered as the object materialized on the Hydran platform, smoking as it grew bright.....

**** Just beyond Quentin's third moon ****

A brilliant flash of light erupted, blowing a chunk of the moon out into deep space towards the Galaxy, now sitting by itself in orbit.

**** USS Galaxy Main Bridge, a few moments earlier ****

"Thank you, Chief Jensen. We have optimal weather conditions. Enjoy the clear skies, gentlemen. Temperature is 84 Degrees Fahrenheit, humidity is at 87%. Good luck. We'll be monitoring your lifesigns at all times through your transponders. The order is confirmed. Initiate beamdown."

On the viewscreen, the planet rolled lazily below them. Its beautiful blue oceans, swirling around inlets, the lush green jungles and vegetation patching over 75% of the planet. M'Kantu silently wished he were on that team. So much like home Quentin seemed.

"Keep a permanent sensor lock on the Delegation team, Mr. Geluf."

"Sir, sensors have detected an explosion just beyond Quentin's third moon."

"The Horus, Lieutenant?" M'Kantu peered over Geluf's shoulder.

He blinked. Something pricked on the edge of warning for him.

"No, sir. Mass is too large. It took a chunk of the moon off. It's coming our way." He exercised command prerogative and resourced power to the deflector dish.

"Use tractor's to deflect it off into space. Scan the area for a debris field not of organic origin."

Geluf re-routed the power he'd accommodated to the tractor beams, reversed their polarity, and deflected the space debris easily off into deep space.

"Scanning... I'm picking up traces of ionized duranium, some unknown metals... no bodies. Best guess I can hazard at this time is ships of some sort."

"Quentite survey ships?" He had a sudden image of a ship arriving in orbit amidst waves of fighter crews. Strange. He'd never seen one before.

"Possibly. There isn't enough left to do any kind of analysis right now."

"Beam whatever debris you can find to Science Lab 1. I have an odd feeling about this one. Good work, Mr. Geluf."

"Thank you, sir. Incoming transmission from the planet's surface."

"Put it through."

[Curran to Galaxy] The Kelvan's voice came through clear as the days down below.

"M'Kantu here, Mr. Curran. Is everything okay down there?"

[Oh, yes, quite fine. Ambassador Galali was a little shaken, but he's settled in nicely with the Observation team]

"Is there something you need, then?" What was Curran getting at? The odd sensation of deja-vu nagged at him.

[We need to talk, Captain. Galali can take it from here. Dallas and I can beam back up immediately]

"Okay, Legate. Come on back on board."

[Aye, sir] The hum of the transporter beam carried over the comm frequency.

"You have the conn, Mr. Henderson." He nodded to the Terran at Tactical, who moved down around the arch to settle into the center seat. Daren stopped at the turbolift doors and turned. For one brief moment, he saw the planet red with flames. He took a step forward in command repose, but it disappeared just as quickly. He shook it off and stepped into the turbolift.

******

NRPG: The End. Everything has been rewound to the beginning. Hoth would normally be arriving later to take control of the contact situation, but
that won't be written unless someone wants to.

"Memories of mortality"
Maj Saladin Bolivar

Usually his after battle meditations were calming, almost a way to control the power within him to put back on his normal demeanor or to focus for plans and thoughts.

But todays meditations disturbed him.

He was on the bridge of the Galaxy... blood was on the ground... he was bleeding from his face.

He had to get to medical get his head fixed then escape.

He made it to medical, he felt his mind go, he felt his body grow cold.. his life ebbed....

No... he had to fight....

His eyes snapped open and he looked around, the loose Gi he wore was heavier with sweat and his hands had tightened around the blade. He was.. alive..

Damn that felt so real.

Rising slowly he picked up his blade and moved to the door of the holodeck...

"Whoa"
Lt (JG) Corran Rex, Vanguard One

Corran Rex sipped his raktajino as he laid the day's training schedule on his desk. If he recalled correctly, the mission brief had placed their arrival at Quentin this very morning. The Legate and his team would probably be beaming down, just about -

The Trill fighter pilot laid both hands on the desk as he grew dizzy, hearing his own voice as a parade of images passed before his eyes - or was it really happening - this was... Gods....

-------------

"Rex to Vanguard Squadron. All pilots to your stations. Begin preflights as soon as your in your ship, be ready to launch on my order."

"Vanguard One to Vanguard Squadron. Read off when ready for launch."

"Rex here."

"Acknowledged, Tactical. Ahead of you. Vanguard Squadron is ready to launch on your order. What hit us, sub-Commander?"

"Vanguards, we have permission to launch. Once we're out there, orders are for a hemispherical defense field, scanners on full. We don't know what hit us, or if it's gonna do it again, but we're Galaxy's first line of defense. We need to give those folks in Engineering time for this bird to be able to defend herself. Break by wing pairs after launch, and keep an eye one each other. Vanguard One out."

"Can the chatter, Vanguard Five."

"Vanguard Seven, Vanguard Eight. Pack it in. Two hour R&R, stay in the pilot's lounge."

"Vanguard Two. What've you got?"

"Vanguard Three and Four? What about you two?"

"Two, you see that?"

"Allright then. I'm passing this back on to the ship. Vanguard 3, 4, 7, and 8, pull back to a defensive position around the ship. Two and I will check this out some more."

"Allright. Galaxy just sent orders - we're to take them in tow and bring them to the main shuttlebay. You move to the port side and I'll take starboard. Lock your tractor beam at fifty percent strength and let's move in at one-quarter impulse. That shuttle looks like it's been through a lot, let's not break it."

"Allright Two, Lock tractors now."

"Two, get back out there on patrol. I want to check on this."

"Yes, Six, we are. I don't know what's going are any more than you do. I do know, though, that the Nimitz is the flagship of Admiral Hoth. And if it's a difference between doing what the Captain orders me to, and what that blowhard tells me, I'll follow the Captain any day."

"Can it, Mister. We've got our orders. Now every single one of you listen up No one is to make aggressive actions. No one. If you do, I will personally shoot your ass out of the stars. If there's a fight here today, then by all the gods of the Trill, we will not be the ones who start it. Am I understood?"

"Hold position, Five Do not, repeat, DO NOT power up your weapons."

"Goddamnit, Lieutenant, You will hold your position. They're just trying to rattle you. DO NOT MOVE."

"Well, Two, I don't know about you, but I'd rather do that than shoot at Starfleet ships. Now keep the chatter down, clear?"

"Vanguard One to Vanguard Squadron. DO NOT shoot to kill. I repeat, shoot to disable. That is a direct order."

"Two! Watch your six, dammit! Another fucking rookie move like that, and you're going to be atoms, you got me?"

"And stay on my wing, Two. Vanguard One to White Knights One. White Knights One, stand down, dammit! There's no reason for this!"

"Galaxy, this is Vanguard One. I really hope this is important, because we're kind of busy not dying out here."

"Well, see, I'd love to do that sir. But I've just had a little conversation with White Knights Lead -" Corran broke off as he had to put all his attention into evading another minitorp spread. "Sorry about that, Galaxy. Anyways, White Knights Leader doesn't seem inclined to stop shooting at us. If we stop, we're all dead. I'm more than willing to take an alternative to that."

"Sir, you didn't hear his voice. If we power down, they WILL kill us. I can promise you that. This old fool's lived through a few too many battles. I don't think he can stand to give this one up,"

"Galaxy, Vanguard One. Nimitz's fighters are not withdrawing. I repeat, they're not. I've got two more pilots EV out here - they've only got fifteen more minutes before their suits run out of air - and that's only if they don't get hit by some stray weapons fire. We need a rescue runabout to come pick them up."

"Look, Captain - no disrespect intended, but we followed your orders and came out here. Now we're surrounded by hostile forces, even if they are Starfleet, and we can't get out on our own. We can fly fancy all we want, but we're still outnumbered. We need your help, sir, or we're dead."

"Vanguard One to Galaxy. Reinforcement fighters coming from the Hood. Their weapons are trained on us. If you don't - or can't - come in and help us, we're dead, Captain."

"My cockpit's been breached!" Corran yelled, as he sealed his environmental flightsuit. " Galaxy, I've taken shrapnel to the arm. I'm going to need to be tractored in!" He looked out his windows just in time to see the galaxy's Secondary Hull crashing into the Nimitz' saucer - Oh Gods - and then there was a flash and..

------------------------------------

And he was back in his office.

"Whoa."

Closing his eyes against the following dizziness - rooms really shouldn't spin like that, after all, it makes the Starfleet decor blend just a little too much - , and he fell over on the desk. When the dark-haired pilot finally stood, his hands were pressed to both sides of his head. By the caves, he had one hell of a headache. All that - all that hadn't really happened, had it? It was a preposterous notion. Transporters eradicating Quentin's atmosphere. Getting into a dogfight with Starfleet Pilots.

~What in the Nine Bloody Hells was all that, Kid?~ Vorrin's not-unexpected voice piped up in Corran's mind.

~You're asking me? You're the experienced old man.~ he acidly spat back into his own mind.

~Well, I have no fucking idea.~ the old smuggler uncharacteristically replied.

~Will wonders never cease.~ Corran thought, before noticing that there was a dripping sound in his office - was that blood on his desk?

That, of course, was when he noticed the blood was dripping down his own arm and, judging by the pain, from the exact same spot where it had been cut by shrapnel in that , that.. vision? dream? deja vu?

"Well, fuck."Rex said to his selves. "Now I'm not only crazy, but I'm having hallucinations that make me bleed. You know... I'm too old for this shit."

"More Tales of the Insomniac"
Lt. JG Dr. Klaus Fienberg.

Location:Deck 7 Klaus Quarters, the Night following the Mission.
Soundtrack: Suicidal Tendencies - Save your soul and free my mind.

-Another night, staring at the ceiling. 0430 in the ****ing morning. No sleep here. Just all these strange Memories. Memories bouncing around in my head. Memories I never had, but they feel....so real........-

The darkness of the room was uninterrupted. Ren was at his place at Klaus' side. He envied the little dog to the point of anger. He was out cold.

Sleep came in fragment peices. Not enought to warrant any true rest......Malgin would be all over him.....but the problem was beyond his control.....far beyond...nothing could shake the thoughts....the memories.

He had a memory of finding his own body, as well as a memory of the death that resulted in that body. A Paradox......

-What am I thinking. Why am I thinking.-

"WHY CAN'T I SLEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Ren woke up in terror and stubbled off of the bed.

More Memories Rushed Dr. Fienberg......memories of the Shuttle, feelings of Regret, feelings of pain, feelings of longing.

But he returned to the seen of his death. He didn't realize that he was asleep....in a dream. He got up....he was in Sickbay....but it was cold, barren, dry. The Dead covered the room, but he felt nothing, he felt like he was beyond....then he looked at his own hands....they were party rotted, dead, in the same state as everyone else in the room. His right hand fell off, and broke releasing bits of dust when it hit the ground. But worst of all, he felt nothing. -Why can't I feel the Pain! I should Feel pain!-

He wandered around the room.....coming upon a body.....a body that was not in the Sickbay.....this body was not supposed to be there. He turned it over......the face brought unending sadness.....pain......

Suddenly, Klaus sprung awake, tears began to pour from his eyes. He looked over at the clock, it was 0534. He quickly stopped crying. But the pain remained.....the visions of his own death, and the deaths of his only friends. They would not leave, and worse, they would not let him sleep.

He could only lay there.....awake.......until it was time to go to work....

"The Difference Between Crazy and Insane"
Lieutenant JG Corran Rex, Vanguard One
Lieutenant Curtis Geluf, Ops Manager

Lieutenant' Rex didn't look up as his doors swish-tiddle'd open. He was still busily just trying to figure out why, exactly, his arm was bleeding quite so profusely.

Then he remembered that Lieutenant Geluf was coming by, to discuss.. something or other. It didn't seem particularly important at the moment.
"Oh." he said, finally looking up. "Hey, Lieutenant."

Curtis waved his hand, "Hi there Rex, I'm here about the....holy crescendo what the hell is THAT??" the Kerelian suddenly jumped back at the sight of a large pool of blood on Corran's desk.

"Oh, y'know........just blood." Corran replied, either being deadpan, or going into shock. He wasn't entirely sure which. Judging by the numbness in his right hand, his bet was on shock.

"That much is painfully obvious Rex, but whose blood IS it??" Curtis' ears twitched a bit, he didn't much care for blood in large quantities.

"That would be mine." the Trill replied.

Curtis face contorted from mild alarm to relative shock, "Yours?! Are you still bleeding?? That's a hell of a lot of blood to lose!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that I am. And yes, it is." the fighter pilot replied. "And I think I'm either about to scream, or pass out. I'm not ... entirely certain which."

Curtis sprang towards the desk and, noticing a blood spot on the right arm of Rex's uniform, rolled it up, revealing a very deep cut.

"Damn." Geluf stated in amazement. "This looks really bad Rex...it looks like...like something's in there." Curtis tore a strip of his uniform and wrapped the cut.

"Sickbay, perhaps.... would be the best.. stop." Corran replied, trying desperately to stay awake. "A transporter... would... "

Curtis shot up, "What the hell am I thinking! Computer, prepare site to site transport to Sickbay, authorization Geluf, Curtis, Lieutenant. Alert sickbay of medical emergency." the Kerelian shouted. "Energize!"

The familiar blue sparkles instantly engulfed the two officers - there wasn't even a reply from Transporter Chief Jensen as they vanished and rematerialized in sickbay.

That was the last thing Corran saw, before he passed out.

Ten minutes later, roughly, he was waking up. The Klingon Doctor - Torsag? - was standing over him. "Hmmph. Trills. Loose a little blood and they pass right out." she commented gruffly.

"Like to see how a Klingon does with an injury like that." he muttered under his breath.

"We get worse during mating rituals." was the snarled - though somewhat softer - reply. "How did you get a piece of cockpit shrapnel in your arm, Lieutenant?"

"Shrapnel?" Curtis commented from the side, "That's impossible, his uniform was in perfect condition..."

"And I was just standing in my office." Corran replied, rubbing the itchy synthetic flesh the Klingon Doctor had placed over the wound.

Torsag replied by holding up a clear container that held a small, bloody piece of plasteel inside it. She placed it into the Trill's hand, and Corran frowned as he focused his attention on it. "That's a piece of a cockpit , allright. Doctor, thank you for your help. Curtis - we need to go somewhere and talk."

The Kerelian looked at Rex, "Sure, my office is close by. We can head thataway."

"Allright.' Corran replied, sliding off of the bio bed. The doctor merely 'harrumphed' - if Klingons could be said to harrumph - as the two officer exited Sickbay. Rex remained strangely quiet for the several minutes it took to reach the Operations Manager's office.

"I'm not crazy." Corran began as the doors closed. "Well, wait, yes I am.
But I'm not insane."

Curtis looked at the Trill, "Why would I think you're insane Rex?"

"Because I... heard... saw...something. Mak'ala, I don't know what it was. A memory, a vision, a dream... deja vu.. I don't know. But tell me if any of this sounds familiar." the Trill said, beginning to pace back and forth.

"We beamed down the Legate's Team. When that happened, Quentin's atmosphere was annihilated. We tried to figure out what happened, and then Admiral Hoth showed up with a Task Force. The Captain thought that the Admiral was responsible, and a Squadron off the.... off the Nimitz! It was the White Knights! - they started a fight with the us - with the Vanguards. And there was... there was a warp ship that we were protecting. A Quentin ship. But then Galaxy started fighting with two other ships - the.... the Hood. The Hood and the.. the Pershing."

The words came out in a rush, each memory triggering the next. Corran could almost see it clearly now, almost.. almost like it had really happened. "Curtis, tell me some.. any of that rings a bell."

The Kerelian's face grew longer as he listened to Corran's account, "Something....I went to the planet....it was a wasteland, we found some ruins, the Galaxy...it...it was destroyed...." he fell silent.

"So I'm not crazy."

"Yes, you are. You're just not insane." the Ops officer replied.

"Well... " Rex let out a small laugh. "Well, right, yeah."

"What does all this mean?" Curtis asked, "What's going on?"

"That.... is two excellent questions." the Fighter pilot replied. "We should tell someone about this. The Captain."

"Right." Curtis stated, flatly. "We can't be the only ones..."

"Let's go talk to Captain M'Kantu, then. He should still be on the bridge, right?"

"Should be, yeah. Don't think he knocked off early." Curtis replied.

"Allright then. Let's go." he replied, motioning for Geluf's door. "After you, Lieutenant."

[Backpost]

"One Last Time"

Principal Characters:
Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 14
The Planetary Surface

What used to be Deck 14 was now almost indistinguishable from the terrain of Quentin. Fiery debris from the Galaxy lay upon the earth, impacted in the earth, interwoven with the earth.

She had crawled from that, Ella thought with some dull sense of amusement which could not override the pain she felt when ever she breathed in the clouded air. By all rights she should have been embedded in the ground like the remains of the ship. She coughed on the next breath of air she forced into her lungs.

Maybe she had been. She shouldn’t have risked the last-minute transport to the saucer section, but it had seemed her only chance.

Everything hurt. She lay there, away from the wreckage and tried to fight the impulse to close her eyes. To rest just for awhile. It was hard, everything hurt so badly....

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 15
Former VIP Reception Area

Victor coughed and decorated the metal spar that ran through his chest with a spray of blood. He was already dead, he knew that. Even if there had been medical personnel available they couldn't have done anything for him. The spar that had run through him was three times the size of Chief Galdo's improvised spear. He thought it had been part of the atmospheric conduit support structure, but he wasn't certain. Reflecting on it, he didn't think it mattered. Dead was dead.

Except this wasn't the way he'd wanted to die.

In combat perhaps, or hunting an animal that was just a bit faster then he was - that was how he should die. Not pinned to a twisted and ruined bulkhead by the equivalent of a dart thrown by a random and uncaring universe. He wasn't supposed to die and be mounted like a butterfly with a pin.

He smiled at the thought, and reached up with one hand to grasp the spar. He frowned and tried to reach up with the other, but nothing would move. He let his head fall to the left to see why.

He was going to miss that arm.

Shock must have closed off the blood vessels he decided. That was why he hadn't bled to death already. That wouldn't last forever, though, Best to do what he was going to do now, before that happened.

Teeth bared in a snarl at the universe, he start to pull, forcing himself down the spar slowly with a wet sucking sound that left little to the imagination as to the damage he was doing to himself. It didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered, not any more. No regrets, no worries. Just the fight. He'd fought all his life, and if Death wanted him, it was going to have to fight for the privilege, just like everyone else.

****

She was walking, how she did not know, but she had done it.

Ella had done a survey of the damage when she had first stood. Something was bleeding but she didn't know what. Flesh had been turned a dark deep purple bordering on black. Her whole body either screamed or was eerily silent. She was probably bleeding internally.

But she made herself walk. She was sure that she had heard something a minute (an hour?) ago and maybe it had been someone else.

She didn't want to die alone.

*****

Victor paused, only a foot away from his goal, his remaining arm trembling with the strain it was under. The pain had ceased to be a problem; he no longer felt it, which wasn't good. When the pain stopped, when life no longer hurt, then it was over - and he wasn't ready for that yet.

He hissed once more and started to pull again. Pain or not, dead or not, he'd never stopped once he set his mind on something, and he wouldn't stop now. He would drag himself off the spar, and then.... He wasn't sure what would happen then, but he knew something would occur to him. It always did.

Seven inches to go. Five. One.

For a few seconds he hung on the tip of the spar, swaying like a droplet of water that struggled against the inevitable pull of gravity – and then he fell the seven feet to the warped hull plating to land with a damp smack and lie there, looking up at the sky. It was the wrong color, all blood red with streaks of black. Or maybe that part was the pain which had returned. It didn't seem to matter.

A choked gasping sound drew his attention, and he forced himself up into a sitting position, his lone hand fumbling for a phaser that wasn't there at his waist. Someone was there, watching him.

Poor soul, she had thought at first. He won’t make it through the night, was her second.

It's Victor, she realized about a heartbeat later.

Somehow, everything became a lot more real in that moment. She made her way to him as he finished separating himself from the metal, stumbling, crying, and finally falling beside him. She tried to be brave for him the first minute but failed. She cried into her hands, each sob seemingly constricting whatever internal damage she had and making the pain a thousand times worse.

Victor winced and pushed himself up some more. He knew that sound, it was from before. Before the pain. Before the crash. Before... Grey. It was Grey. "G... Grey..." he forced out.

She pulled her hands away and they were red. Had she been coughing? Was her face bleeding? She absently wiped them on her clothes before reaching for him. She touched his face lightly, not wanting to cause him any more pain than he was in, and tried to smile. It came out as a hysterical giggle. Ella looked away as she tried to get herself under control, still stroking his cheek lightly.

Victor swam up through the pain, drawn to her touch, to the feeling of contact with another person. It had to be Grey. No one else would touch him, even now, without screaming. "Grey," he rasped out again, his one hand reaching out awkwardly to return the contact. He couldn't die yet; he had something to fight for now. She'd sought him out like she had all those nights before; she needed him one last time to push the monsters away so she could sleep. It didn't matter that it was the last sleep - there were monsters there too, and he'd fight them to the last so she could rest in peace. "I'm... here... Grey."

Ella blinked back tears as she felt her hand connect with his. They locked fingers tightly and she looked at him.

"Me...too." She mouthed.

[Backpost]

"Comfort"

(Occurs seven hours after 'Shuttle ride to... where?'))

Principal Characters:
Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's quarters

The room was empty.

That simple realization came to him suddenly. In the days that had passed since his meeting with Captain M'Kantu, and Grey's last visit, he'd done nothing but sit here and wait for the word to come when he wasn't on duty - even now, tired from damage control operations, he was doing it still - and in all that time he hadn't noticed, hadn't realized, how empty the room was with what few things he'd let himself set out gone.

He missed the smells from his plants, missed the memories that the few pictures he'd set out had sparked when he saw them, missed even the bits of color that had started to accumulate here and there. A purple stylus Grey had left one night, the green Marine-issue coffee mug that Gunny Goldstein had loaned him and that he'd never had a chance to return.
Signs that he belonged here, that he'd found a place where he could stay.

Signs that were gone, just like he was. Like the people on the planet below them. Like Counselor Dallas and Legate Curran.

M'Kantu didn't seem like a bad man, but he was going to transfer Victor nonetheless. Who could blame him? It wasn't as if every one of his concerns wasn't something that Victor himself accepted as valid. Even if he was hung out to dry over the destruction of Quentin his replacement certainly would. The problem was, Victor didn't want to go. For the first time, even more than at DS9, he didn't want to leave. He belonged here, he'd found a place here... he was home.

He should have known better, he reflected. He should have known that he couldn't stay. He should never have let himself think for a moment that he might, this time, fit in. It wasn't to be. Just like talking to Grey wasn't to be, or talking to the Gunny had been. Whether they left or he did, the result was always the same. Better to stop trying, to just be who and what he was and let things happen the way they would. That was honest, anyway.

He turned in his chair and looked out at the stars as they moved by, just like he'd been doing since the day he'd found out he was going to be left behind again. The stars were always there for him, moving by in their silent river. They, at least wouldn't leave. They would always be there, cool and silent and far, far away.

Far away. Like home. Like the Galaxy.

Ella rubbed her head absently. The medics had fixed her scrape but she still felt as if it were there. Maybe it was exhaustion. They had gotten the ship running, finally, after hours of work. Suder had finally told her to get some rest.

So she had come to Victor's. Without thinking. Without even changing. Hope he didn't mind.

She rang the buzzer even though she knew his alarm system, unless that had been packed along with his things, would alert him to her presence.

Victor didn't bother to turn around - he could see the door in the reflection off the viewport. Besides, what was the point? "Enter."

It was Grey. Tired, dirty, swaying on her feet.

~~Got a couch I can crash on, Tiger?~~ Ella signed with stiff fingers.

Victor closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want this contact, didn't want her here, didn't want anything that would make leaving worse than it already was. He didn't understand why, but he knew that the more he saw of her, the harder leaving was going to be on him. Friends must not like to leave friends behind.

At the same time, he realized he couldn't send her away. Like Rissa, she needed him to keep her monsters at bay and after the day the ship had had, he knew hers would be back. Friends didn't like to abandon friends either.

"No," he said, his vice harsher than he'd realized from the smoke he'd breathed all day.

A sound of surprise escaped her mouth before she could stop herself. Ella inhaled sharply and tried to process what he was telling her. More distancing, she thought. And she was too tired to deal with it. ~~Fine.~~ she signed, even though he wasn't looking.

"Not like that," he continued, unaware of the look on Grey's face with his eyes still closed. He stood, still not looking her way. "Shower first - I'll get you something to wear."

Ella smiled slightly and shuffled off to the sonic shower. If she had more energy she might have tried to tease him into coming in with her. As it was, she just started systematically removing her clothes, once in the bathroom. The sooner the shower the sooner she could sleep.

Victor turned and opened his eyes to watch her move slowly towards the shared bathroom. ~ Looks like she was beaten with clubs - at least she moves like it. ~ He pushed away the memory of falling to the deck under a hail of blows from Klingon pain sticks and walked into the bedroom to return a moment later with a dark sleeveless shirt and shorts and move to the bathroom. ~Might as well let her use these since she ordered them - I won't need them for my next shore leave.~

Ella stepped in the shower and pushed the button....

....and yelped as scalding water hit her.

She leapt from the shower, her heart pounding, and barely managed to cover herself with the first towel she could find before Victor burst in the room.

~~I wasn't expecting water.~~ Ella signed sheepishly and then moved her hands to make sure the towel was secure.

"Don't like the sonic shower," Victor explained. "Doesn't make me feel clean when I'm done." He set the garments on the edge of the sink. "Clothes to change into." He turned back to her. "No one in the adjoining cabin, you won't be interrupted."

Ella sighed slightly, dropped the towel, and eased back into the shower after he left. The hot water felt surprisingly good and she stayed under longer than usual. She turned off the shower, dried off, and put on the clothes that he had given her. They were large, Ella thought, but she hadn't been sizing them for her when she had bought them. Ella went back out into the living room. ~~Thanks~~

Victor nodded wordlessly from his position back by the viewport. He'd shed the torn and scorched uniform jacket, exposing the mirroring scorch marks and tears on his issue tunic, and the fainter ones below that on his person.

She eyed the replicator, suddenly deciding she was hungry. ~~When was the last time you ate?~~

"Last night." Victor's rasping monotone couldn't disguise how tired he was.

~~Dinner for two then.~~ Ella moved slowly to the replicator to program two turkey sandwiches and then brought them back over. She gave him his and then eased herself onto the couch. Mmmm, she thought. Heaven. She began scarf her food.

Victor looked at the sandwich, looked at her, and then sat down at the desk and slowly took a bite.

She paused in eating, holding her sandwich in one hand and tapping her throat with the other and then pointing at him.

"What?" he said. "My voice?" He shrugged. "Lots of people hurt worse. It'll get better."

Ella set the sandwich down. ~~You should be seen. But you won't of course. I won't bother.~~ She picked up her food again and continued to eat mechanically. Chew, chew, swallow...

"Can't be off duty, Grey." He took a bit of his sandwich again and chewed it. "Too many wounded."

She polished off the rest of her food. ~~Backup officers.~~ Ella managed, not caring about using whole sentences anymore.

"On Gamma shift, maybe. Not on Alpha. No one to replace me."

Ella nodded. She was clean and fed and ready to sleep. But she wanted to make sure he was okay. She waited until he was done eating half of the sandwich, which seemed all he was going to eat, before she pointed at the bathroom. ~~Go shower.~~

Victor looked for a moment like he would protest, then nodded once and stood up, the movement enough unlike his normal way of doing so that Ella understood him to be as tired as she. He moved into the bedroom, returned with clothing in one hand, and crossed the room to the bathroom door, almost running into the edge of the doorframe. After a minute, the sound of the water running began.

She boosted herself off the couch, a bit wobbly, when he returned. ~~Come, sleep.~~

He'd been dreading this. She needed him to help her sleep again, and he didn't want to. He'd almost pushed things away enough that he could deal with being transferred again, he was almost able to deal with this - and this would undo that. If he helped her sleep, he'd be right back where he started again. "Can't - things to do, Grey." That was true enough. There were always things to do if he looked hard enough. "Go on, I'll be there later."

~~Can't work if exhausted, Tiger. Not much good to ship that way.~~

He wasn't any good to the ship as it was - the Captain had made that clear enough. "I'll check on you later."

Ella pouted out her lip and widened her eyes. ~~I don't want to be alone.~~ It was bit over the top, she figured. But she was too tired to try to be subtle. ~~Please.~~

Victor closed his eyes and ignored the slight sway in his stance that developed immediately. He really didn't need to do this. He needed to leave, or make her leave. Anything else was just making things worse. There was no point in being her friend when it was over the moment he transferred. There was no point in...

Ella sighed loudly as she grabbed his hand and started to pull him in the direction of the bedroom. Begging to have someone sleep with me, Ella said to herself. Pretty sad, Ella my dear. She stopped before the bed.

~~I don't care if you're transferred to the Delta Quadrant. You'll still be my friend. So stop being so bloody difficult and get in this bed with me.~~

Victor thought about pulling away, but his hand wouldn't move. He examined the failure and admitted that it was because he didn't *want* to move, because he wanted, needed even, the contact with another person that Grey's hold on his hand provided. ~She's figured it out,~ he conceded. ~Just like Ar'resh and Rexa did. They can get me to agree to any of their bad plans or attempts to set me up with someone as long as they just touch me.~

He nodded once, and moved past the small stack of bags that he was obviously living out of, his open closet and empty drawers revealing that he'd already packed all his things away, to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. His eyes looked out the smaller viewport to the stars flowing by as he listened to Grey move to the other side of the bed and relax onto it with a small sound of relief. ~I'm tired of being left behind.~

Ella rubbed his shoulder lightly in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. He turned away from the stars, his eyes filled with pain. Too tired to completely hold it in, she imagined. ~~Sleep now, sweetie. Worry about it later.~~

He frowned and nodded again, the shoulder under her hand so stiff that it felt like tritanium.

She ruffled his hair a bit and pulled him down so that they were stretched out on the bed. Ella yawned loudly but decided she would wait to sleep until he did.

Victor lay there, his eyes on the ceiling, for over five minutes before he finally closed them. A minute later, perhaps two, and Ella realized that he had relaxed somewhat, nothing like the way he'd been the nights she'd been here before his meeting with the Captain, but enough that he could sleep. His breathing slowed and fell into a rhythm as he finally let go.

And then, finally, Ella could let herself sleep.

****

Victor's eyes opened, his transition from sleep, as always, to wakefulness almost instant. Grey's scent filled his nostrils, hints of his soap and shampoo's smell mingled with hers in a way he wasn't used to. It wasn't unpleasant - just different.

She had rolled into him, with her arm lying across him protectively. Whether she was trying to give comfort or seeking it, he didn't know. Her head rested on his shoulder and one leg had moved to twist with his.

He lay there for a long moment before he looked up and checked the time display on the ceiling. Only six hours had passed, but that was as much as he normally slept. The times she'd stayed over before, Grey had slept for a solid eight hours and he doubted she'd sleep less than that as tired as she'd been.

Which left him, as always, with two hours where he could do nothing but lie there, look at her, and think - or risk waking her. He didn't mind the time to think, at least not normally. It was different now, he was leaving and that made it different. There wouldn't be any more nights where Grey came to have him chase her monsters away, no more mornings where he woke up like a real person, with someone there, touching him. That contact was going to ache with its absence, just like it had when he'd left DS9 and Rissa. Perhaps even worse, he hadn't decided. Grey was a friend, and he and Rissa hadn't been friends, not if what he and Grey were was what that was supposed to be like.

He looked down at her as she lay there against him. She'd been the one to seek him out this time in her sleep it seemed. Usually when he woke, he was the one that had reached out to provide security to her. He wondered why it was different this time, and then discarded the idea. Perhaps he'd just been too tired to move and she'd sought the security she needed the only way she could.

For just a moment he let himself wonder what things would be like if he were different, if he were human, and she were lying here with him, warm and soft, for another reason - and then crushed those thoughts quickly and ruthlessly. He wasn't human, not really, and thoughts like that weren't for him. All that letting himself entertain them would get him was more pain, and he had enough of that for now. More than enough.

He shifted position slightly, felt her stir in her sleep, and moved his arm to hold her still, his hand naturally falling along her hip and sliding back along it to the curve of her rear, supporting her there as he brought his other hand up to her shoulder and pressed her down against him, supporting her. She needed the sleep, and if she moved around too much she'd wake up.

****

Ella awoke slowly, her eyes heavy and refusing to open at first. She rubbed them and then stretched, moving her arm across the bed.

Not the bed, Ella suddenly realized. Victor's chest. Her mouth shaped into an 'o' and she might have jumped up if she hadn't realized that his arms were holding her to him intimately. She sucked in a breath, now terribly awake, and wondered why she did this to herself. Another test of willpower? Ella snorted and then moved her head.

Victor was awake and looking at her.

She felt the blush beginning to pinken her cheeks. Ella sat up slowly, internally wincing at how his arms moved away quickly rather than slide (which would probably have been worse in the long run, she supposed) and popped her knuckles before signing.

~~You're comfortable.~~ She signed with a smile.

"Tired as you were, the outer hull would have been comfortable, Grey." Victor shifted position so he was more sitting up than reclined, the muscles in his arms and chest working briefly. "Feel better?"

She nodded and then pointed at him.

"I slept as much as I always do," he replied, as if that answered the question.

Ella checked the time and found that she had another hour before she was supposed to report in. She scooted back and rested her back against the headboard. ~~Can I stay for awhile or is this where you tell me to leave because it's better that way?~~

"No PT with the Marines this morning," Victor answered. "I don't have anywhere to go." He looked at the ceiling for a time in silence. "You can stay if you want to."

~~I want to.~~ Ella replied before stretching and yawning.

"I hate this," he said suddenly.

Ella dropped her arms. ~~Hate what?~~

"Being helpless like this. Not knowing."

~~The transfer?~~

"No, I mean the planet - what happened there. I hate that. There should be something to do, and there isn't. Just wait. I'm not good at that unless it's waiting for prey."

Ella shrugged. After spending hours upon hours helping to get Galaxy up and running again, as much as she loved tinkering with the ship, she didn't mind waiting. ~~There will be, Tiger. Isn't there always? Personally, I could use the break.~~

Victor looked across the room at the arrangement of shipping containers his possessions were packed in. "Yes, there's always prey - or something that needs to be shown that it's prey." He was silent for a moment. "I still owe you a fight, Grey."

She yawned again as she tilted her head.

"The second one I promised you. The one I lost. I owe that to you before I leave. I haven't forgotten."

Neither had she. ~~I'll admit that I'm curious but I don't think I want to watch another fight like the last one.~~ The memory of watching an impaled Victor still creeped her out. ~~Besides, I'm still waiting to see what happens.~~

"It isn't like the last one. I lose this one." Victor paused. "It's here, on the Galaxy." He looked away again. "I'll run it for you before I go."

Ella rolled her eyes. ~~You seem to be in more of a rush to leave than M'Kantu is to transfer you. Come on, Victor. I'm trying to be optimistic here.~~

"Why?"

~~Because I'm trying to turn over a new leaf~~ Ella's hands signed dryly.

"Why be optimistic? We both know he's transferring me as soon as he gets the chance."

~~Maybe.~~ Ella reminded him.

"Grey," he said quietly. "*I'd* transfer me if I were in his position."

~~Well, I wouldn't.~~ She replied. ~~Let's not talk about it, Tiger. We're never going to agree.~~

"No, we won't." He closed his eyes and leaned back, not speaking for a long time. "I'll miss talking to you, Grey," he said quietly just as Ella thought he'd gone back to sleep.

Me too, Ella thought. She scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. ~~I've got about twenty minutes left to cat nap~~ She told him when he opened his eyes.

"Go on and sleep then, Grey." He shifted slightly. "I've got to report to Security Main about the same time. I'll wake you."

One side of her mouth tilted upward. ~~One day you'll let me comfort you for a change.~~ She closed her eyes and let herself rest.

[Backpost]

"Faded Dreams" Part 1 of 2

Primary Characters:
Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lieutenant Commander Cassius Henderson
SubCommander Savar tr'Khellian

Secondary Characters:
Lieutenant JG Cameron Bartlett
Lieutenant JG Maggie Pike
Ensign Rima Pennington

Unauthorized mention of Lieutenant JG Ella Grey

****

USS Galaxy
Secondary Hull Deck 8
Battle Bridge

Pennington was still in the command chair. She hadn't been able to stand since the battle had ended, and hadn't spoken to Cassius Henderson since he'd literally carried her over to the command chair of the battle bridge and placed her there to recover and field communications for him. Her mind was confusion. ~Why did I have to turn out to be the good little soldier?... Just like daddy wanted... Ugh.~ she thought cynically.

With the moment at peace, Henderson left tactical and walked down to the executive officer's chair, dropping into it wearily. "So..." he started skeptically. Her victory in combat didn't seem to please her at all. It wasn't that they were Starfleet vessels. He knew better than that. "...

Are you feeling better?"

"I guess. Physically," she said, wishing he would go away. He didn't. He wasn't going to. If there was a realization she had finally come to, it was that one. "I'm just... Ah... having a hard time dealing with the... Starfleet personnel and us fighting them."

"I'll bet you are," he nodded knowingly, "Care to share." He'd string along for a while. This was how Rima worked. He'd found that she went through stages of dealing with him. Stage One was trying to divert his attention. Stage Two was denial. Stage three was yelling, and Stage four was talking.

He'd get in.

"Oh, it's nothing," she stalled.

Meanwhile, the universe was about to move on without them.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge

"Status on the rescue operations, Sub-Commander?" Daren asked without looking from the main screen and its display of the Nimitz as her crew began the work of towing the Hood back off of the larger ship's secondary hull.

Tr'Khellian looked up wearily from the Tactical arch. His Vulcanoid constitution had held out to prevent any embarrassing collapses like the one Pennington had suffered, but his sharp eyes were beginning to tire and were becoming bloodshot. He had, after all, only just finished an eight-hour duty shift before the crisis erupted and had been on duty constantly, therefore, for.. Elements knew how long. Coupled with the stress of dealing with inane command decisions and being utterly impotent for the first time in many a long year, the Romulan patrician had been brought to the brink of delirium and back. Tempted to ask for leave to get at least fifteen minute's rest, his paranoid mind had balked at the selfishness of the idea: something very deep down told him it was not over yet, and he had watched the Nimitz like the king of all hawks, eyeing the planet with equal suspicion, as tachyon pulses continued to emanate from its murky, ravaged surface.

"Almost complete," he answered M'Kantu's query, in a voice beginning to show the edge of his tiredness. "The runabouts are bringing in the last of the escape pods now. I recommend we withdraw our rescue crews at once and reassign the pilots to repair duties." The implication in his still-haughty suggestion is that if their recent adversaries needed help, the Elements helped those who helped themselves.

Daren's response was cut off by Lieutenant Bartlett speaking up from Operations. "Sir! I'm getting a signal from one of the landing party's shuttles. It's very faint, but I think they're just leaving the atmosphere!"

"Signal the Nimitz, Mr. Bartlett, make certain that they got it. Start trying to raise the shuttle as soon as it clears the atmospheric interference. I want a medical and Sciences team ready to scan the shuttle before it gets in the shuttle bay - if it looks like there's any signs of radiation or other contamination then we can't let it aboard until the wounded are clear of the shuttle bays."

"Aye, sir," Bartlett turned back to his console and started to work.

"M'Kantu to Henderson - I assume you got that?"

****

USS Galaxy
Secondary Hull Deck 8
Battle Bridge

"Aye, sir," Cass stood from where he had been talking to Pennington. Luckily, they hadn't reached the point of shouting at each other. She was too tired, and not used to being on duty for hours on end. Henderson himself was barely beginning to show the wear of the hours, but that was only due to endless hours of intelligence training. Long ops demanded tireless agents.

"Good. I want you to personally handle any information transfer from the shuttle before it docks. Copies to myself and Admiral Hoth only until one of us gives you the word. Understood?"

"I'm on it, sir," Henderson said, "Standard Decontamination proceedures?" They were rushed... M'Kantu might have other thoughts. Turning to Pennington, he whispered, "Man tactical." Grudgingly she got to her feet and went up to the board while he sat down in the command chair and started to receive data.

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Bridge

A chilly noise from the Tactical arch alerted Sub-Commander tr'Khellian to the arrival of a new vessel on sensors. Where a moment ago there had only been radiation and swarming debris, a battered Federation shuttlecraft was now picking its way out of the tortured atmosphere of the planet Quentin. "The shuttle is entering the upper stratosphere, Captain," Savar reported, before being forced to cough to clear his increasingly hoarse throat. He frowned as he ran a full scan over the shuttle. "The shuttle seems to be returning with a partial away team, plus one additional lifeform not registered with the away team," he added, his clipped, pseudo-English accent doing nothing to disguise his bemusement.

"Survivors?" M'Kantu queried, somewhat