"Come, Reap"

Elsewhere in the Breen system...

"Acknowledged."

Approximately one Astronomical Unit out from Breen, on an entry point precisely asymmetrical to where the Federation ships penetrated the defense net, there hung a densely packed region of asteroidal debris and wrecked space vessels of the past. Every spacefaring race had a graveyard of sorts for their older and disabled ships. Some time ago, the Breen had defended an outpost here from a vicious attack by some species long forgotten in the annals of their history. It was a single engagement of this one foe, at which were never seen again after their utter annihilation at the superior ice creatures who inhabited the worlds of this system.

Now, it served another purpose.

"The defenses are deployed by our allies?" The hiss following each word was ominous, like a snake on the verge of poisoning its prey, which wasn't that far off from the truth.

"They report a two cycle window for completion, m'lord." As dark as the control node was, the dense humidity cast protracted light off the glowing panels that operated on minimum power, siphoned off from the organics that were fused to the ship.

The great bulk, slid off its mount to approach an alcove set into the rear of the node. Harsh, raspy tones, followed by the low hums of resonant chanting rippled underneath and alongside. It felt as if it were all about.

"Then let us ask the gods for their grace as we prepare for our destiny." A great hand, outstretched, splitting up into three sharp talons etched with red lace along the tips. Clutching a gaffe as it stood out from the alcove niche on its left, the being sharply twisted it to the left. Another hiss, a jet of steam, and a panel slid open, ejecting what was recessed beneath.

A pedestal, made of dark marble stone three feet wide, two feet deep, and 4 inches thick lay out. The being, having twisted the ejection module to release the monolith, lay down upon its knees. The other creatures, numbering 4 in total, followed suit behind.

The bridge darkened to ebon, to be replaced by a single beam of light that shot from the ceiling 6 feet above the pedestal. It coalesced into a dancing colour of light a couple feet in diameter slightly above the marble. Spinning faster, faster... the chanting grew to a murmur, the hissing into a pattern of song that mesmerized all.

The five raised their eyes to gaze at the prism of light as it fractured along its surface, cob-webbing itself as it collapsed into its proper form.

"Praise be, my goddess. Bless us as we prepare for our oncoming test of faith. We are your humble servants and cry your name in ecstasy." The form settled into a snowball pattern, crystalline in appearance.

"Oh, my lord goddess Astra, your child shall be avenged. We shall reap and offer the survivors to your judgment, lest you require sustenance." The chanting rumbled on behind the commander, still on one knee as her crew was behind.

The Crystalline Entity increased in flux, and its lights danced one last time on its surface before finally glittering out. The commander raised on her feet in companion to the minor lighting on the bridge.

"As one, our hearts beat with our goddess, and as one, we shall return her to former glory!" The humming rose to a feverish chant and abruptly ended as her words did.

"For the glory of the Kingdom!" The ship rumbled its content.

"Poor Reflection"

Principal Characters

Captain Elaithin Jii
Legate Kylar Curran
Legate Abigail Pryce-Randall
Counselor Karyn Dallas, RN
Counselor Navarre Shinta
Commander Arel Smith
Lieutenant Victor Krieghoff
Lieutenant Cole Cantrell
Counselor Ammalyn Lywhyn
Ensign Zeke Wikkins

****

"Two hours it is, Governor." the Captain replied, as the team begin entering the designated set of rooms.

As they entered, Lieutenants Kreighoff and Cantrell both raised a hand, and each raised a small detection advice. Familiar with such devices during his days as a Security Officer, Jii knew that the two were sweeping the room for listening devices. At least three were found and deactivated.

"These three were easy to find." Arel told the Captain. "There's probably more."

"No doubt." Elaithin replied. "However, there shouldn't be anything we say behind these doors that we can't say in front of the Breen, right Mister Cantrell?"

The cyborg was already on it. Using the passive sensors inside his body he managed to isolate certain signals similar to the ones the Breen used in his own universe. As soon as he had saw the originating points, he ordered the datacore to access the signals. Carefully he superimposed his own signal on top of the real signal, much like the filter Jaal had installed in his own datacore, only much more simple. "None at all Captain.. " he said with a shrug, but held up a finger to stop anyone from speaking. As soon as the datacore acknowledged it was his signal that was being read by the Breen and not the real one he lowered his finger. "Alright. Be quick. You only have a few minutes of free airtime.."

"Understood." Elaithin nodded. "Allright. We've had the first meeting. Impressions, everyone?"

"I must say I am surprised. They have more culture around here than was obvious from the information we had been given." Shinta said. "This can mean that they are developing more of a culture, and as a consequence they are growing as a species. Interest in culture could mean less interest in war. And I stress the word could."

Karyn nodded. "Indeed. Interest in the finer things in life and in military strength aren't mutually exclusive. Some of the most culturally rich societies in the galaxy also pride themselves on being able to defend their way of life from any threat."

She looked to Jii. "If you want my neutral view, I'd say Governor Born acted exactly as I might expect given the distrust on both sides that must be overcome. My gut still says there's more going on."

No shit, Arel wanted to say. Instead she diplomatically grunted in agreement.

"Exactly as one would expect." Elaithin agreed, emphasizing the first word.

"Of course there's still more going on." The Kelvan diplomat snorted as he looked up from a sheath of paperwork he and Abigail had been sorting through in preparing their presentation.

"In any negotiation of a treaty between two long-fought opponents, a battle still continues to wage on both paper and verbally. It's a continuation of a Cold War. Each side is angling for leverage in obtaining more of an advantage over the other. It's bartering, Counselor. Something you aren't familiar with. You don't give away your whole advantage in one session." He shook his head in disbelief. Whatever deity each of these fools prayed to help them all if something should occur to the Legates and Jii.

The Counselor decided she wasn't going to give the Kelvan the pleasure of successfully baiting her, and acted as though she'd not even heard him.

"It isn't about us all suddenly being one happy family now that we are in their realm. Not everyone thinks pretty thoughts like you counselors do. We aren't about to hold hands and run through fields of roses."

"Kylar." Abigail said then, drawing the other Legate's attention. "That's quite enough."

"We may not be about to hold hands, Legate, but I'll settle for no one shooting at each other." Elaithin commented. "I think we all know there's something else going on here. The key will be how quickly and how willingly the Breen let us know what that is - whether they meant to or not. I - "

"Captain." Cantrell interrupted. "Time's up. Someone's coming, as well."

Pryce-Randall frowned at that. "How could you possibly know that."

The Security Officer answered with a cold smile, and pointed at the side of his head. "Good ears."

The doors swished open then, and in walked a man that Elaithin Jii had not seen since several months before his departure from the Galaxy. Commander Christopher Kell Thomas, former Executive Officer of that vessel, exiled to Breen by Captain Bhrode while he, Captain Price, Commander Peterson, and Karyn had been on their clandestine mission to Romulus.

The years had not been kind to the Commander. He looked as though he'd taken up drinking with his assignment here, and, unless Jii was mistaken, he was drunk even now. The Bajoran felt himself quickly growing angry with the man, baffled at such unprofessional behavior.

"Well well." Thomas slurred. "If it isn't... *Captain* Elaithin." he said, emphasizing the rank in a more-than-slightly jealous tone. "Here to pick up the pieces, are we? I don't know why you think you'll be successful. The Breen don't take anything related to the Federation seriously."

"If all they've seen is you, Commander, I cannot possibly imagine why not." The Bajoran replied with a heavy layering of sarcasm.

"Listen to how high an mighty this guys sounds now, Karyn." Thomas replied, rolling his eyes as he spoke to the only other officer in the room he knew. "Too big for his britches. I remember when he was just a little scruffy Bajoran Ensign.....

"That is enough, Commander Thomas." Jii stated coolly, emphasizing the rank. "You are a poor reflection on yourself, and an absolute disgrace to the uniform you're wearing. You are relieved of your duties. Mister Wikkins, please escort the Commander back to the Embassy, and confine him to quarters. It's quite clear he'll be no help to anyone."

Victor examined the drunken officer visually, and ran a quick scan that only confirmed what his senses had told him - Thomas was not faking his intoxication. Wikkins could have handled him sober without any trouble, doing it now was nothing to be concerned about.

Wikkins returned a moment later. "Good Captain. The Breen guards insist that Commander Thomas must remain with us."

"Not getting rid of me that easily, Jii." Thomas said, with a seemingly perverse sense of pleasure.

Elaithin uttered a small curse. "Very well. Mr. Wikkins, the Commander here is your responsibility. If he says anything remotely out of line, you have my permission to shoot him."

"A Tip of the Gloved Hand"

Principal Characters

Captain Elaithin Jii

Legate Kylar Curran
Legate Abigail Pryce-Randall
Counselor Karyn Dallas, RN
Counselor Navarre Shinta
Commander Arel Smith
Lieutenant Victor Krieghoff
Lieutenant Cole Cantrell
Counselor Ammalyn Lywhyn
Ensign Zeke Wikkins

Commander Christopher Thomas

*** Two hours pass ***

As punctual as the Breen are, like clockwork they appeared. Governor Born, flanked by a pair of personal assistants as per their shimmering blue sashes draped from the left shoulder to right hip stated, appeared on what hadn't been noticed previously as a large observational screen that peered out upon the glacial landscape. The window portal had darkened into a viewscreen.

"That's one of the hidden listening devices, I take it." No one noticed who had spoken as Born immediately began to speak.

[Greetings once again, Ambassadors of the Federation. I see you've become acquainted with your official Envoy already] Chris Thomas, who arrived some 90 minutes earlier by being unceremoniously *introduced* into the room by way of a stagger, was blissfully snoring at the conference table, alone upon the side that the Breen had been assumed to be seated upon.

"We regret the actions of the Commander, Governor." Curran sneered at the Starfleet officer drooling on the table to his left. A rather large puddle had formed, still connected by a sliver of saliva on the right side of his mouth.

"His behaviors in no way reflect the nature of the Federation in its essence as it relates to designated diplomatic personnel and officers with Starfleet." Born filled the screen with his upper body, the presence of disdain emanating off the screen. His arms had been crossed, which in itself was a sign of closing off. he would not be so open-minded towards negotiations. If only there was an even more remote and godforsaken post to send Thomas so as he does not interfere with any more alliances to be chartered. It would be a sorry state of affairs indeed if a war was touched off with Breen due to the imbecilic actions of a drunk.

[As borne witness, it must now be an unforeseen conclusion as to why I place more faith in the Federation representatives than I do Starfleet. Our limited exposure to them through this buffoon only enforces an already tainted opinion of your military branch.]

"As a representative of that organization, Governor, you have my formal apologies for his behavior. He has been relieved of his duties, and when we return to the Federation, he will face a full Court Martial." Captain Elaithin offered, still more than mildly annoyed at the human officer.

"Then let us get down to business, Governor, and begin." Kylar didn't have to look to the other members of the party for them to understand their need to keep their feet out of their collective oral orifices.

[We extend apologies for not attending the discussions alongside you. You must understand that we have yet to build a trust, and prefer to remain in our own element until we do.]

Diplomatic pleasantries designed to placate the opposition. More likely they did not want to give up a tactical advantage by keeping the Federation personnel at bay within their confines. The Breen could effectively cut off negotiations whenever they opted to from their vantage point. Born made the first strategic move in gaining the upper hand.

Curran also gave thought the Breen did not want to remain in their refrigeration suits for long. It would be an Intelligence coup if their life system viability limits were obtained.

"Of course, Governor."

[Let us get to the point, then, Legate. We have invited you into our boundaries to ask for your assistance. Our borders are currently undergoing hostilities we can no longer stave off due to our depleted forces you have taken from us due to the Dominion War treaty. Our needs are either to obtain your assistance in defending our borders, or allow us more flexibility by amending the treaty to essentially remove that article.]

"I see." Elaithin replied, surprised at the Breen for tipping their hand so early. Practicality indeed. "Who are you being assaulted by?"

[We do not know their identities.] Born replied. ["Recording of their attacks will be made available to your personnel, and you may attempt to ascertain that if you like."

"Thank you, Governor."

Several communications devices began going off then, and not just amongst the Breen. As the Breen hastily began answering their own comms, Elaithin's and Dallas' own commbadges went off. As Jii answered his, he could slightly hear Karyn talking to Captain M'Kantu.

"Elaithin here." he said hastily, tapping the badge.

["Captain, this is Brex. We have a situation here in orbit..."] came the voice of his Bolian second-in-command.

[Backpost]

"Life Support"

(Takes place two days before the arrival on Breen)

Principal Characters

Lt. Ella Grey
Lt. (JG) Victor Krieghoff

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 7
Victor Krieghoff's Quarters

She was waiting outside his quarters when he arrived.

~~Hi.~~ Ella signed with false cheer. Truthfully, her stomach had been doing its best impression of a pretzel since she had learned that Victor was going down on the planet. Of course, she *knew* that he was a security officer and it was his job but this was the first mission she could remember that he was going to away on some dangerous mission where she *knew* that she loved him.

"Hello, Grey," Victor replied in his normal neutral tone. "Aren't you supposed to be on shift right now?"

~~Day off. The Breen can demand impossible things just as easily without my presence. Wanted me to take apart the damned warp core... what a bunch of idiots. And can't a girl just randomly drop by her friend's house for no apparent reason without interrogation?~~ Ella signed with some irritation, backpedaling into the room so that he could read.

"This isn't a house, Grey," he observed as he followed her inside and checked his tell-tales to make certain that the Romulan agent - or Flight Officer Angelienia - hadn't been in his quarters since he'd left. "It's a cabin. It isn't a random visit either, because you don't do anything randomly, you're too self-controlled for that."

Ella stuck her tongue out at him.

Satisfied that no one had been in the room since his departure, he turned and looked at Grey. "I'm going to have some coffee. Do you want something?"

~~Coffee would be fine.~~

Victor nodded and replicated a second cup of coffee, altering the recipe to reflect Grey's preferences for the beverage. He handed it to her, and then waved her to a chair. "Why are you really here, Grey?"

~~I guess I wanted to see what you thought about the mission.~~

"It will be cold. If it's a trap, then people will die. If not, people will live." He shrugged. "Either way, my job is to make sure that our people aren't the ones that do the dying."

~~You will at least *try* to be careful, won't you?~~

"I'm always careful, Grey." He took a sip of his coffee. "I just have to do things that sometimes don't look that way."

~~Well, try not to provoke anyone then.~~

"I can't promise that, Grey. If I have to do that to get the job done, then I will." He shrugged. "It's part of what I do."

~~Damn it, Tiger, could you at least *try* and comfort me a little!~~ Ella snapped.

He looked at her and frowned. "Why are you so worried about this, Grey? It's an assignment, just like any other. I go where they send me, if I have to I kill people, and then I come home. Nothing unusual about it except the fact that it's very cold there."

~~The Breen make me nervous, I guess.~~ She replied and then sunk back into the chair in silence. She drank her coffee and kicked her feet. She needed to distract herself. ~~I had an interesting experience a few days ago.~~

Victor leaned back against his desk. "Interesting good or interesting bad?"

~~Interesting good, I think. I let this boy read my mind. I didn't want to at first but, well, you know telepaths.~~

"Actually I don't, not really. They don't like what's inside my head. It's why Betazoids run from me faster than anyone else. The only ones that managed it for any length of time were a Vulcan at the academy and the Defiant-entity. One of them took the Kholinar as soon as he was done and I killed the other." He sipped his coffee. "But I believe I know what you mean. What happened?"

~~He somehow made it hurt less, Victor.~~ She said with a smile. ~~He saw something in my head, touched me, and everything hurt less than normal. ~~I think he's the first person, well after you, to do that. And not freak out at the other stuff. If he saw it that is.~~

"Good." He regarded her for a moment. "But I don't think I know how to make anything stop hurting without making everything stop. I just make something else hurt to take your mind off the other."

~~So that's what the late nights of holding me so I didn't get nightmares was about.~~ Ella signed with false astonishment and just a touch of acid. And the times we've eaten dinner or just hung out. What an amazing thing. And here I was supposed to be in pain?~~

"I said I wasn't good at being a friend, Grey."

It was an old argument. ~~Just promise me, Mister Martyr, that you will *try* to come back in one piece.~~

"You know I can't do that, Grey. I'll do what I have to do in order to get the sheep home."

~~Lie then.~~ Ella signed, her jaw set.

"No." His pale blue eyes met hers over the rim of his coffee cup and held them. "Not to you."

~~Not even if it would make me feel better?~~

"Not even then, Grey. A lie is a lie, no matter why you tell it."

~~Stubborn mule.~~

"Perhaps, but I prefer 'realist' over 'mule.'" He shrugged. "It does make a less effective epithet though."

~~You're just lucky I censored what I was really thinking.~~ Ella replied. ~Besides, not all lies are bad.~~

"But they are all designed to deceive," he pointed out. "Even if that deception is for supposedly beneficial purposes, it's still deception. I don't try and deceive anyone but the enemy, Grey, it isn't worth the time for anyone else." He took a drink and set his coffee down. "You're not my enemy."

~~Good thing too!~~ Ella exclaimed to cover the fact that she lied to him every day now. ~~We haven't trained for weeks and I'd get my behind kicked to Mars and back.~~

"Months," he corrected, "not weeks. We haven't sparred in months."

~~Well, I don't have to show you where the holodeck is.~~

"I can't, Grey. Not now. Not until my assignment as escort to Sub-Commander tr'Khellian is resolved. We can spar once that's done."

Ella quirked an eyebrow. ~~That will be a long while then, I imagine. Well, I'll just run some of the old programs until you can join me.~~

Victor eyed her for a moment. "Not a good idea, Grey."

~~Tiger, you have such a low opinion of me.~~ Ella said in a flirty "tone."

~~I would never touch the settings without your supervision.~~

"Yes you would," he returned. "Because you thought you could handle the increased setting, or because you wanted to test yourself - or because I told you not to."

~~I would so not!~~

"Grey, please," he replied. "Your need for control *is* that strong, and we both know it."

She sat back in her chair grumpily. ~~YOU get to take risks all the time. I'm just hypothetically talking about setting a lousy computer program to level 2.~~

"I'm paid to take risks, Grey. You aren't. They pay you to use your brain and hands to make the magic that drives this ship work. If you weren't good at it, you'd be paid to take risks. Or clean the waste bays."

~~Technically, you aren't paid to do anything.~~ Ella pointed out, scoffing at the notion of herself cleaning out a waste bay. ~~And if I hurt myself, so what? It's on my head for doing something I wasn't ready for.~~

"It's stupid, Grey. You're not stupid - you're one of the smartest people I've ever known. The only human smart one that hasn't run screaming when I walked up. Why do you want to hurt yourself?"

Ella rolled her eyes. ~~Its only level 2. What the hell do you got in there? Hannibal Lector with a machine gun?~~

He frowned. "No, whoever that is, he's not in any program I have - and the machine guns aren't in any program I've let you try. You're just not ready.

~~I haven't been totally sitting on my ass when we weren't talking you know. And I know which way the end of the knife goes. Why do you think I couldn't do it?~~

"Because there is no 'level 2,' Grey; there's the level you've practiced on and the full-bore version. If you try them on full without me there you'll be hurt. I don't want you to get hurt."

~~Why?~~ Ella asked, hating herself for having to fish for compliments.

"Because I don't want you to be hurt. Friends are like that, even ones that aren't good at it."

~~Then you can partially understand why I worry about you when you're on your missions.~~

"I never said I didn't understand it, Grey, just that I couldn't promise something we both know I may not be able to deliver on. Besides, it isn't the same as you trying a program you're not ready for."

~~I bet I could take on your program if I had a machine gun.~~ Ella said.

"It depends on which one. Some yes, some no. Some only if you're good with it." He picked up his coffee again. "Can you do something for me?"

She blinked and then nodded.

"I need something replicated, and then disguised as something else. Something old, not in the current inventory."

Ella tilted her head.

"A Life Support Force-Field Unit. They used them briefly back when Kirk was still a Captain - the first time."

~~Why do you need that?~~

"Because it's very cold on Breen - and it will be colder if they turn the life support to the diplomatic quarters off."

~~I'll have it for you soon.~~ Ella said, grateful that she could help at least. It still didn't take away all the worry though. ~~Look, you just do the best you can and come back to m...to the Galaxy. All right?~~

"I always do the best I can, Grey - and I always try to come home." He set his coffee down. "I just won't someday."

~~See you later, Tiger,~~ Ella signed as she set the coffee down and started for the door. If he needed that life support unit, she wanted him to have it in plenty of time for the mission.

"Hazard Team Tryouts #2"

By
Lt. Cmdr James Corgan
Lt. JG Claire Barnes
Ensign Zeke Wikkens
Ensign Paulo DiMillo
Ensign Tarin Iniara
Attaché Nyssa Alvarez
Pilot Voss 'Prophet' Ferris
Lt. JG Chase Remur

NPC's:

Ensign Chet Caldwell (Engineering)
Lt. JG T'lan (Security)
Lt. JG Shelly O'Rourke (Security)
Ensign Jeremy Showers (Ops)
Lt. JG Walter Marsh (Security)

"Computer, end program." James Corgan ordered.

The dilapidated urban setting shimmered away like a mirage. Gone were the brick buildings, the drive in theatre, the roads and the vehicles. In the holodeck, everything existed while still being nothing, so it was easy to make everything disappear.

Scattered about the holodeck were the participants of the Hazard Team exercise. Those at the theatre were on the right.

The T-Rex, as it was sent to cyber oblivion, left behind a jumbled pile of 'eaten' officers, all indignantly dumped on the floor, brushing off holobile that dissipated as the program ended.

"Ehhhgggg..." Ensign Chet Caldwell groaned, picking himself out of the pile, "Spending five minutes in a dinosaur's stomach is not my idea of a good time."

"You think it was our idea of a good time, smartass?" Ensign Jeremy Showers, one of Ops' representatives, glumly snapped back.

Chase watched the unfortunates brush themselves off but tried not to direct her attention too pointedly in their direction. Judging from the expressions and sharp remarks coming from them, the experience had been far worse for those who had failed.

So far, she was proud of herself, considering that she'd made it through the first scenario without more than a holographic scratch or too. Though smearing garbage over herself to muffle the stench hadn't been the most enjoyable thing she'd ever done, but it had to be better than being eaten alive.

Paulo admitted that it was fun, for being something SO stupid. He though was disappointed at his performance in a few ways, but he never seemed to be happy with his performance, so it didn't matter.

Ensign Tarin stood up from her seated position on the floor, brushing imaginary dust from her backside as she rejoined the group. The sudden dematerialization of the half-destroyed van had caused her and many of its passengers to fall the short distance to the floor. Certainly not the most elegant way to end up, but it was definitely better than the pile of people the T. rex had left behind.

The arch appeared, and out of it walked in James Corgan, his PADD in hand, looking upon the volunteers again. He held a smile, amusement was more apt to describe how he felt.

"Congratulations." James Corgan announced, "To those who made it. You people showed resourcefulness and survivability. For that, I am impressed. O'Rourke! T'lan!"

T'lan and O'Rourke saluted, "Sir!"

"O'Rourke... you're a survivor, that is apparent. But pray tell... why did you abandon your mates at the first sight of the T-Rex?"

O'Rourke blushed, gulping back a nervous peep, "Sir..." She flustered, "We were supposed to reach our objective, sir!"

James wandered, pacing in front of O'Rourke while his eyes locked onto hers. "Yes, but on a Hazard Team you can't just think about yourself. You were lucky T'lan was with you. Without her, you may have been eaten."

"Sir..."

"Enough from you. T'lan, congrats. You showed some loyalty to your crewmates. Despite O'Rourke's initial mistake, you stuck by her, and you both worked well together. Good work."

T'lan replied, "Thank you, sir."

"Alright then!" James moved on, "About the team on the van... congratulations! You all worked well together. Despite the fact that it was a slower vehicle, your operating knowledge of the vehicle was rudimentary at best, and that Ensign Caldwell decided to BRAVELY run out of the vehicle and sacrifice himself for the rest of the team..." James added the last part with a sarcastic tone that made Caldwell look down in shame, "...you all did very well. But may I stress this... you guys were lucky. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Ensign Tarin replied, snapping once more to attention. In the back of her mind she wondered how, out of all the Terrans, a Bajoran had been the one piloting the ancient Terran vehicle. Maybe in the future she would have to do a little more research into this sort of vehicle.

"Yes sir," Paulo replied. He knew they were lucky. If it hadn't been for Caldwell, they would have all been eaten, and been on top of the pile of people who didn't make it past breakfast.

"Attaché Alvarez!" James pointed to the diplomat, "I was surprised by your performance. I didn't expect a diplomat to survive the first part of this exercise. For this, you have my respect. However, I do warn you that this is special forces grade tryouts. Pray to god that you are well versed enough to do the next exercise."

"Thank You Sir" she relied proudly smiling with the compliment, she knew what she could do and how far she was able to push herself to get the job done.

"Ensign Wikkens!" James boomed towards the Ensign whom was twice as large as he, making his displeasing speech almost comical, "Where the hell were you? I didn't see much from you. What happened?"

The mountain of a man bowed his head. A deep crimson began to flush up the back of his neck and through his cheeks.

"I was...otherwise occupied." the Amish officer replied.

"You were otherwise occupied? Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Wikkens here was otherwise occupied. Let?s have a look at just what exactly Mr. Wikkens was doing while you all were running for your lives. Computer, replay the training exercise. Isolating Ensign Wikkens." Corgan barked.

The computer chirped an acknowledgement and the room shimmered to life once again with giant carnivores stomping about. Wikkens could be seen running with another officer over his shoulder while being chased by a Tyrannosaurus Rex who was stomping through the steel and concrete as if it were not even there.

Just as the man moved into an intersection, a van came screaming past and crashed into the creature's ankle.

With a loud shriek, the lizard began to fall as if it were going to sit. Wikkens seeing the shadow growing large around him tossed the officer he was carrying to freedom just a fraction of a second before the Rex sat upon him.

An odd look crossed the monster's face and he promptly got back on his feet and marched away. As he turned the corner, two Starfleet issued boots could be seen protruding from between the creature's scaly bottom.

"Ah..Computer..end program. Please." James said looking as though he were trying to hide a hearty laugh.

Wikkens had his arms crossed over his chest with one hand on his temple, shielding his eyes.

"If any of thee even so much as breathes of this unfortunate incident to anyone, I shall smite thee down with the fury that would make even the most high cover his orbs." he said through teeth clenched tightly together.

"Marsh! Remur!" James then called out the next two officers, "Good work out there. You kept your asses out of trouble and still made it on time. You all cut it close though... can't blame you."

Remur nodded, but chose to say nothing. She appreciated the security chief's praise, but in truth she had only been doing her job. Besides, Marsh had been the one who knew what he was doing. But then, fighting big game was never her strong suit.

"As for Lieutenant Barnes..." Corgan then turned to Claire, "Good work, a bit risky getting the dino's attention by destroying that car, but it worked. Gave the other team time to procure transportation. Your actions were self sacrificing, but you made it. Congratulations to you."

Claire grinned and nodded.

Corgan didn't want to waste any more time. He continued on with the tryouts. "Ladies and gentlemen, now for the second phase of the exercise."

Corgan recalled a screen in the middle of the holodeck. It showed terrain, a savanna with yellowed, dry grass, and brown, suntanned trees with emerald green canopies. It was midday in the scene, with the sun glaring high in the sky in a blue field without clouds. To the side of the screen was a three dimensional picture of a small device, a subspace transceiver of Federation design. Back to the savanna scene, Breen troopers patrolled the countryside, armed with rifles, their alien faces unseen though their stride was purposeful.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the next exercise will be to search for this subspace transceiver, hidden somewhere in this orchard. There will be plenty of cover, provided by the trees, with a few open areas designed to be kill zones. Breen troops are patrolling the area, and are meant to stop you from recovering the device. Unfortunately, you will all be scattered, and sent out alone at first. Whether or not you will run into your teammates is up to you. Good luck, and be sure not to harm each other." Corgan finished, "Computer, start program!"

Ensign Tarin crouched down as the simulation began. Finding herself in moderate cover, she quickly slid sideways into some thick bushes which would give her enough protection for the moment. Then, she deactivated the commbadge and stowed it--it wouldn't be much use, but she might need it later. She turned her attention to the tricorder, setting it to silent mode, then set it to emit a short subspace 'ping' every few seconds and to accept incoming data from the transceiver or from other tricorders.

Satisfied, she stowed the tricorder and picked up the phaser rifle, slinging it across her back. Then with the grace and efficiency of someone who had done this many times, Iniara flattened herself against the ground, becoming one with the underbrush, and silently wormed her way through the orchard. All her senses were on edge and furiously scanning for the presence of anyone, holobreen or otherwise. Maybe the ping would locate the transceiver or maybe it wouldn't, she thought to herself as she quickly scaled a strategically positioned tree, all the while checking to make sure she was still unseen. But, from 50 feet up and hidden by fully covered branches, she could at least take out a few Breen while her teammates searched for the device. She removed the rifle from her back, did a quick check of the weapon before pushing it up to its maximum setting, then became one with the tree as she scanned the landscape.

'This is a test,' Paulo thought. It would be like on D-Day back in WWII where everyone landed where they did, and they had to meet up. Here though you were not fighting your fellow man, you were fighting Breen, who were a cross between Cardies and Jem'Hadar. Not a great combination for people trying to get in.

As the grid disappeared for the orchard. He would first need to find a few other people from the team so that they could get in. A small team of about 3 or 4, just small enough to get in, but with enough people to watch each other's backs and to run distractions if needed. Paulo turned his badge's range down to only a few meters using his tricorder. He would want others to be able to find him, and if the Breen picked up on it, he would hear them come in.

Nyssa found herself in an open space between Orchards, and instantly realised that perhaps this wasn't the best place for her to be standing. She moved quickly but casually into the cover of the trees and stopped looking at the items she had.

Nyssa turned off the combadge and looked at the federation phaser rifle, her eyes checking the level of power on the weapon. If I'm going to survive this I am going to need to get rid of anything visibly not Breen she thought to herself placing the weapon deep into the underbrush covering it with dirt and some fallen branches. She then looked around and conducted a quick scan of the area, mentally noting the differing echo location spots that were being read by the tricorder.

Within moments the tricorder was once again hidden amongst her clothing and she was on her way to the location which was marked on top of a small rise above the rest of the orchard.

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

Another miserable landmark.

In the perspective of Shelly O'Rourke, she was seeing yet another tree, looking quite the same as it gently flapped its leaves in the breeze.

Nothing was helping her, not even her tricorder. O'Rourke impatiently tapped the display on her scanning device. The image flickered and wobbled, and the LCD readout scrunched and distorted for a brief second when her finger pressed against it, but the screen showed nothing new. There were multiple signatures, and they were everywhere. She decided to seek out the strongest signature, which was in an orchard approximately two hundred feet nearly, and blocked off by dense forest growth.

Chasing phantom signals wasn't her idea of fun, but then again, neither was training for a Hazard Team under the dominion of a person known throughout the Federation as 'Crazy Corgan'.

She could always blame the Vulcan. That gave her comfort. When she eventually failed the qualifiers, she would confront T'lan, and tell the Vulcan eccentric not to ever sign her up for anything against her will again.

Grumbling, O'Rourke set foot for the signature.

Unbeknownst to her, T'lan was thirty feet away, taking cover in the bushes. She was observing the movements of a Breen soldier, stalking around the forest, looking for unsuspecting Starfleet officers. It held a scanning device, waving the scanner like a wizard's faulty wand.

"O'Rourke..." T'lan worried for her friend. She was nearby, and it didn't take long for the Vulcan to know who the Breen was. Breen didn't move like a human, tended to show more patience and professionalism in their work, and didn't use many hand gestures when frustrated. To a human, these observations were minute and impossible to read. A Vulcan, however, could easily ascertain.

T'lan admired Commander Corgan's test and its inherent difficulties. Most people would be tripped up indeed, but not the superior mind of a Vulcan.

And the superior Vulcan had an idea on how to talk to the Breen.

T'lan concluded that she herself must be Breen, in order to cause confusion in the recruits. Therefore, she tried to remove her 'helmet'.

Alas, the Vulcan female couldn't. She felt no Breen costume. No Breen helmet. To her perspective, she was a Starfleet officer. There had to be, therefore another way to talk to the Breen to truly know if she was a friendly.

At a big risk to her life, T'lan rose out of the bushes. Her tricorder holstered to her side and her rifle slung to her shoulders, T'lan then raised her right arm, faced the palm outwards toward the suspected friendly Breen, and gave the Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper." T'lan screamed.

What O'Rourke heard was garbled digital trash from a Breen voice synthesizer. Naturally, the fidgety blonde lawyer did what came as a gut reaction when faced with hostiles.

She opened fire, screaming "BREEN!" while T'lan heard more scrambled Breen voice synths.

And T'lan hit the dirt, narrowly avoiding being vaporized.

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

The still flustered Wikkins found himself inside of what appeared to be a command quarters of some sort. The first thing he noted was that the complex was quite small. Perhaps half the size of the Galaxy's own Ten Forward Lounge. He looked around at the various compartments that lined the walls. They were large enough for someone to walk into and hide.

Looking to redeem himself from the embarrassment of the previous scenario, Wikkins rolled his head on his thick shoulders. He balled his meaty hands into fists and using the tip of his boot, he pushed open the first compartment.

It was empty.

He moved inside and examined the strange command interface inside. From a seated position, whomever was inside had access to some sort of computer module that hung from the wall next to an odd hole that was drilled about head level. It went through the wall of this stall and into another.

Zeke stuck his thick finger through the hole, probing it a bit to assure himself that it indeed went through into the next office.

Growing more curious, Zeke steeled himself and sat in the command chair.

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

Remur watched Corgan fade and the encounter appear. Gathering her equipment, she slipped into the deepest thicket she could find and crouched down to check her equipment. Looking around, she noticed a few Breen moving around, some with rifles and others with scanners. Deciding that she should be a little more careful about hiding, she took a moment to find a place to lie down behind and assess the situation.

After closely scanning the area visually, Chase flattened her body behind a fallen tree. Nothing. Not a single Hazard Team member in sight. Either they were all good at hiding or she'd drawn the short straw and been placed far out of reach.

Well, if that's how he wants to play it, then we'll play.

Carefully prying the back off the tricorder, she quickly made a few wiring changes that her instructors at Advanced Intel had taught her, using them to extend the range. It was tricks like those that were her trade. Now where were her allies?

Keeping a hand on her rifle grip, she poked her head up and began scanning again.

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

Claire dropped to the ground quickly, drawing her weapon as she did. A quick examination of the weapon found that it was fully charged.

Examining the ground next, she found that it was darkish brown and moist. Smiling, she scooped some up and quickly applied it to her face and arms for some camouflage. The combadge was deactivated and then she examined the tricorder. Something about the area was causing the most annoying echoing effect, but she would be able to hopefully use it.

Looking more around the orchard, she noted that the trees were placed close together to minimise the wasted amount of ground. Smiling, she quickly scaled up one, thinking that she might be able to get a vantage point of the lot. However, she found that the upper canopy would not support her weight. Once that wasn't an option, she locked down her tricorder to ignore external communications.

Moving forwards by jumping from tree to tree, Claire started doing a sort of triangulation to see if she could figure out what was an echo and what wasn't. Turning the tricorder over, she opened it up and did a quick check of the internals. Nothing looked to be altered, so she expected that the holodeck program was using a sensor distortion field. So, there wasn't anything she could really do to fix it.

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

The jungle was comforting.

Marsh loved the jungle more than anything. Soothing noises of the wildlife celebrating life in the lush canopy, the emerald green spanning out for miles, the humid heat, the springtime fogs, the dangers and the thrills of a hostile alien environment.

Marsh loved the jungle.

It seemed distasteful to spoil the previously unspoilt nature of the jungle with violence.

But such was his job, therefore what choice did he have?

So, like the jungle stalkers of countless alien worlds, Marsh waited in the canopy, waiting for unsuspecting Breen troopers to kill. The subspace communicator was somewhere Marsh couldn't identify. A trick, it looked, to distract from the real task of avoiding the hunters.

*crik* A branch snapped under a Breen's heavy boot. Marsh enveloped himself in the canopy, and waited for the footfalls to pass.

Under him was what he expected. A Breen trooper, his head down on a tricorder, scanning for life forms! How juicy a target! An unsuspecting soldier, not aware of his surroundings. Then, there was no choice.

Marsh had to take him out. With a loosened vine, Marsh roped a loop around the Breen's neck, and without warning, yanked the soldier upwards.

All that was left of him on the ground was a phaser rifle and a tricorder, flung hidden into the under growth. Now that it was not in contact with the Breen's body, the items reset themselves back to their original parameters.

Standard Federation issue.

Without knowing it, Marsh made a mistake.

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

~Just like old times,~ Iniara thought to herself as she took aim on a Breen soldier below. The rifle had become an extension of her own body and mind, and she now seemed interested in nothing other than sniping some Breen scum. Her hands gripped the rifle firmly and one grey eye used the built-in sight to select an appropriate spot on her opponent's form. She thumbed the safety off, slowly following the Breen's movements, waiting for the perfect shot.

Then, without warning, her hip vibrated.

Startled, Iniara couldn't help but flinch. She lowered the rifle, her concentration now broken. Her hip vibrated again.

With one hand, she reached down and retrieved the insistent tricorder, flipping it open to stop the vibrating. Apparently the ping had worked. A little too well.

Iniara looked in dismay at the multiple shifting sensor readings. At least six spots were shown on the map, and they kept moving around erratically. It took her only a few seconds to realize that something was either scattering the signal or interfering with her tricorder, and only a split second more to realize she didn't have the technical knowledge to compensate for the problem.

Annoyed, the Bajoran switched the tricorder off, stowing it once more. She quickly recalled all the personnel involved in this simulation. There had been a lot of yellow shirts present earlier; Iniara hoped the ones she didn't recognize from Ops were from Engineering and not Security. Maybe one of them would be able to find the transceiver.

Until then, all she could do was snipe. She resumed her previous posture, weapon at the ready, sharp eyes once more scanning for targets below.

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

Chase Remur threw herself sharply to the side at the sound of weapons fire, dropping her rifle in the process. Continuing to move, she looked around and spotted the sniper. Unfortunately, she was now unarmed, but was able to roll out of the path of the unsuspecting Iniara's next shot.

Locating her rifle, Remur rolled back toward it, but was quickly discouraged by the fire from above. Unwilling to surrender, she scrambled behind a tree, leaving the rifle, possibly her only salvation, lying abandoned on the ground.

Careful to keep the tree between her and the 'Breen' sniper, she lay there for a moment, breathing hard, then checked her tricorder. She had two possibles, and one was close-by, but the other would take longer to reach, and it would be through Breen infested territory, with no rifle.

She was stuck.

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

Paulo scanned around and found a human life sign. He walked up slowly, taking his time. As he saw it was someone from his team Paulo tossed a small stone in her direction, just enough to get her attention. "Hold fire," Paulo said. "It's DiMillo," Paulo said to, who he believed was Alverez.

Alverez nodded, her Breen helmet clumsily bobbing up and down.

The two moved along heading for their destination. Paulo wanted to be there like yesterday, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He had been trained in this kind of covert tactics, but never put them into use beyond the Academy as SFI had kept him pretty much locked up in an office. Right now it?s better to be cautious then stupid. They would take their time, and hopefully get to the target in the allocated time.

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

Iniara cursed softly under her breath as her target evaded. These Breen were unexpectedly quick. Taking a deep breath, she searched the underbrush for her target. She had to take care of him before he gave her position away. ~Ah, there he is.~ From behind a nearby tree she could just see a pair of unmistakably Breen feet poking out. Strange how a Breen soldier would be hiding behind a tree instead of trying to take her out, but...

Was that a Starfleet rifle lying near the Breen's hiding place? From Iniara's vantage point, it looked a lot like the weapon she herself was carrying, not a Breen weapon. Maybe the simulation was set to disguise the participants as Breen, including whoever was behind that tree. That would certainly explain why she hadn't seen any Starfleet uniforms stalking around: her companions were good, but probably not that good.

"Test, test," she muttered softly to herself. She wasn't very surprised to hear distinctive Breen vocal garbage layered over her own voice. So that meant everyone probably looked and sounded like Breen, making it very hard to tell who was who. At least she had one way around that.

Dropping her shields slightly, Iniara sent out a brief mental probe. It wasn't much more than a mental tickle, but it was all she needed. Either the Breen behind the tree was a real person, or the holodeck now had the ability to mimic humanoid thought patterns. Feeling hopeful, she pulled out her tricorder once more and set it to broadcast on a very narrow band, then typed out a quick message and sent it: [Tarin overhead. Any luck finding target?] She sat back and waited, hoping the tactic would work and that she wouldn't have to resort to telepathy.

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

"MRRRrrrrrhhhhfffppp&*@#Gurglepurp*!!!" Loudly did the Breen soldier object to his incarceration, so much that without the precaution of muffling the Breen's voice synthesizer, it would have made quite an unholy noise.

In the trees, trussed up by sturdy green vines, two Breen soldiers swore in their alien tongue, shifting back and forth to swing their bodies out of their bindings.

It was no use. Lieutenant Marsh was an expert survivalist, and it would take more than foul language and thrashing to free the soldiers from their bonds. As Marsh was looking down on the field, giving his tricorder another tap with his finger, the Breen kept swinging and swearing.

Marsh turned to the Breen, motioning a slit throat action, and said, "Shut up, or I'll grease you both."

This prompted more synthesized protests from the strung up enemies.

"Fine... have it your way." Marsh grumbled, swinging off his branch and landing on all four limbs, "I'll leave you all to rot. Have a nice day, gents." He added, with a mock salute and a howl of laughter fitting for a bush crazy hunter. His noisy, leaf strewing steps went farther and farther away, until the Breen couldn't hear him anymore.

But if Marsh could hear the Breen talk, his relaxed, confident attitude would have changed.

Caldwell and Showers were both aware of the ruse, but were powerless to tell Marsh about it.

"MARSH!!!!! YOU STUPID BUSH BABY!!!!!!" Ensign Caldwell cursed from the treetops, the blood rushing to his head due to being upside down for so long, "Only you would rig a trap like this you stupid..."

"MAAAARRRRSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!" Ensign Showers joined Ensign Caldwell in the cacophony of anger, but with their synth units tampered, nobody was going to hear them scream in the jungle for a long time...

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

*MRRRGGGLLLEEE... ERRRGGGLLLEEE.... BLURP!*

Shelly O'Rourke, inadvertent Breen foot soldier, fired her rifle wildly into the bushes, whilst diving headlong into the ferny bush of Lesephi Stingweed. She was wild eyed, and without a clue as to where the odd Breen with the split hand salute went off too.

~"Split hand... like the Vulcans?"~ O'Rourke hazily thought, as she rolled deeper into the stingweeds, moving to keep herself from being shot. The exchange of fire between O'Rourke and what she thought was a Breen soldier was brief and furious. She was lucky to avoid the incoming fire, taking refuge behind the trees and bushes to keep alive.

But now that the firefight lulled to a stop, she had time to take stock in what really happened. The Breen popping out of the bushes with the salute, the fight...

How oddly Vulcan. The incident brought out a chuckle.

Then it made her very, very sad.

"Dear god... it was T'lan." O'Rourke sighed as the lightbulb came on. In her rush to frag anything that moved and retrieve the beacon, she nearly waxed her friend, whom was disguised as Breen.

Didn't stop T'lan from firing back, so it was to O'Rourke's conclusion that T'lan wasn't so sure herself, and that her salute was for identification purposes. Therefore, O'Rourke's knee jerk reaction served to alienate the only person whom seemed to know what the hell she was doing.

"Dammit." O'Rourke cursed, her Breen suit translating to more gibberish. She contemplated what to do next, until she felt an unbelievable pressure crash down upon her.

Next she saw darkness as a hand clamped on her shoulder.

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

Claire stopped moving in the tree. Standing below her was a Breen soldier. The soldier stopped, checking some sort of device, before moving on. While she could have taken him out, she had a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

When it moved on, she flipped open her tricorder and did another check. From what she could tell, some of the echoes had moved and others had not. By now, she was pretty sure that the holodeck was creating an environment that bounced signals around off what could be mountains. Or really freaky trees.

Looking around, she found that some of the branches were quite dry, and it gave her an idea. There was a distinct possibility that the Breen might investigate something remarkably unusual. Snapping off branches, she dropped down to the ground and piled them up against the tree. Grabbing some dry grass, she put it around before standing back, cleaning out the ground around it so that it wouldn't spread to her.

Setting her rifle to thermal effects only, she gave a short burst across them, causing them to burst into flame. The flames rose and the tree caught on fire.

Grinning, she climbed up another tree quick and headed away fast.

After she had moved about 30 metres from the flaming tree, she did another triangulation check for the beacons, but they were still giving echoes that she wasn't sure of. Adjusting the sensor scan, she had a thought that maybe, she could adjust it to pinpoint the subspace emitters in other tricorders.

A few extra blips came up, but she wasn't sure if they were friend or foes.

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

A full minute had passed and Iniara was beginning to think her message hadn?t reached its intended recipient. She swung her rifle back over her shoulder and began to descend from the tree. If she could make contact with the person on the ground, maybe they could figure a way to find the transceiver.

As she descended, a lone Breen soldier approached, investigating the noise from before. Iniara froze less than twenty feet from the ground, luckily still unnoticed. Silently she watched as the soldier-- his unreadable mind marking him as holographic and therefore hostile-- approached the tree behind which the ?friendly? Breen was hiding. Seeing no other choice, Iniara quickly brought her rifle around, flipped the safety off, and dropped towards the ground.

The Breen barely had time to react as Iniara appeared from above. Once she was clear of the bottom branches she quickly fired, one shot to the chest and a second to the neck. Iniara?s feet hit the ground hard and she executed a forward roll toward the friendly Breen, landing in a crouched position with her weapon pointed straight at her target. In her peripheral vision she noticed the hostile Breen slump unceremoniously to the soft ground, the impact registering with a dull thud.

Before the other ?Breen? could have time to react, Iniara pulled out her tricorder with her left hand, tapping out another message. [This is Tarin. Not hostile. Can you locate target?] She then flipped the tricorder around in her hand, placed it on the ground, and slid it towards the ?Breen? so he could read its screen. She pulled her hand away and placed it back on her rifle, relaxing her posture but at the same time keeping alert. She didn?t want to shoot whoever this was, but it was a better alternative than having him give away her position with possible running and screaming.

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

Paulo crept up behind a Breen. Paulo had hid his rifle, not wanting something that big with him while he took out the Breen officer. He wanted to do it quietly so no one could hear him. He got up, wrapped his hands around the Breen's neck and snapped it quickly, and lowered the body to the ground, and hiding the body. He had done this a few times, and he and Alvarez had gotten in a firefight only once, but other then that they had gotten in quite.

Paulo took out his tricorder and scanned. He had figured out which dots were the team, and which wasn't. He figured by which moved in patterns and which didn't, and which disappeared. There were a couple team members about 20 meters to his right, but he had no idea which ones. At this time they were close to their target, and they were running out of time.

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

After some initial doubt and apprehension Iniara and her new partner, who turned out to be Lt. Remur, had been making decent time in their hunt. Iniara had been scanning for any holobreen or nervous fellow officers, leaving Remur free to scan for the transceiver. So far Iniara had taken down three adversaries, each annoyingly more skilled than the last.

The first one?definitely a holobreen?had stumbled on their position almost accidentally and his momentary surprise had given Iniara the advantage. The second?also holographic?had tried to ambush them but a few blows with the bulk of the rifle and two swift kicks to the chest and head had subdued him. The third however had caught Iniara off guard and delivered a few good hits before she could even think about a mental probe. Instinct had taken over then, a feeling she both feared and relished, and the faceless Breen soldier soon tasted the wrath of one Bajoran who had a little too much fury built up for just such an occasion. Returning to her normal self, Iniara had restrained herself from probing the now prone soldier?s mind. She didn?t want to know if she had screwed up.

Iniara was beginning to wonder if they would ever find the target when Remur suddenly stopped in her tracks. She looked askance at the tree nearest them, a huge, gnarled old thing with a gaping hole in the side. Following her partner, Iniara peered into the tree and came face to face with the transceiver. A moment later their suits dissolved into nothingness.

?Excellent,? was all Iniara had time to say before the exercise ended for them.

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

The most peculiar sight came to Marsh, and at first he thought he was witnessing the Breen soldiers carrying their wounded. The sight came as he was stalking about the trees, after stringing up another struggling, swearing Breen soldier. He silenced the soldier's voice unit, then saw from the corner of his vision a Breen soldier, lifting another in a fireman's carry.

The Breen spotted him before he could spot the Breen which surprised Marsh the most. He prided himself in his alertness and his ability to survive harsh climes. What could possibly do such a thing?

Then, the oddest sight came to Marsh. The Breen, nonchalantly dumping her comrade (it was clearly a she from the hourglass figure, and for that matter so too was her unconscious comrade), then giving Marsh the Vulcan salute.

"Ahhhhh...." Marsh gave T'lan the thumbs up, and pointed to the prone body at her feet.

T'lan pointed an index finger to the side of her head, and spun it about, the universal sign of insanity.

Marsh nodded. He knew exactly who T'lan was carrying.

Then, T'lan thrust her slender finger at the tree, pointing downwards. Marsh could only guess at what she was trying to say, but innuendo told him that she wanted him to come down, so Marsh leapt out of the trees, landing on all fours like a panther.

T'lan shook her head, and pointed again at the same spot.

"What?" Marsh objected, spewing voice distortion instead, "What are you saying?" He then shrugged his shoulders and upraised his palms. "What?"

T'lan shoved Marsh aside, showing the Vulcan's eccentric habit of being impatient (happens to Vulcans whom, upon trying to explain logic to the illogical races, finally gave up and decided to show the illogical idiots by action instead). She disappeared into a hole in the large oaken tree, then came out with a suitcase size piece of electronics equipment.

T'lan, Marsh, and O'Rourke's Breen suits shimmered away.

And for those three, the exercise was over as they were allowed to leave the field.

"Best of Both Worlds"

By

Arel "Kill Boy Crazy" Smith,
USS Miranda

8-Ball "Naughty Girl" Hunter,
USS Galaxy

Kylar "Van Halen" Curran,
USS Galaxy

*backpost

*****

Arel watched the the platform as the two Galaxy officers materialized.

While it was true that she could have delegated this task to a junior officer, Arel prefered that they spend their time securing the ship from the Breen "delegates." She could handle the greeting of two already cleared Starfleet officers, gving them their clearence codes for the Miranda's computers.

Plus, she needed a break from her office work. Another minute of filing old reports, processing requests, scheduling vacations, etc. and she might have just forgotten her newly formed skin of steel and started destroying furniture.

"Legate Curran. Ensign Hunter." Arel greeted them. "I'm here to give you your access codes and escort you to your respective offices."

"I won't be here long, so don't waste any time." He loathed being in the same room as this bloated creature that showed no remorse for the situation she was putting her unborn child in. Savar's stating the obvious tactic of the Breen taking this woman prisoner, knowing the Federation's penchant for love, peace, and all beings survival was, in effect, hamstringing themselves. Did she not see that? Were they trying to fail? More likely to make his life more difficult.

8-ball gave him a disgusted glance and then looked away. Curran was something else, all right. He irritated the shit out of her in ways that no other man knew how. Even knowing that she had kicked his ass in that fighting tournament months ago didn't give her the gleaming satisfaction that it should have. Glancing at the security chief from Miranda who had broken up the ever so fun party on the starbase, 8-ball could tell Arel didn't like him anymore than she did. She wondered if Curran knew HOW to make friends.

8-ball would give not anything but really, really a lot not to be stuck with Curran right now aboard Miranda. For that matter, she wasn't even sure why she was here, exactly. She figured she was supposed to talk to the science officers over on the ship, compare notes about the Breen, some stupid thing or another, but it was never really made clear. Well, that was Starfleet for you. They said "jump" and you said "how high" when you really wanted to say fuck off.

He still didn't know why he was here in the first place. Had something occurred with Legate Pryce-Randall? And why was this half-wit Vulcan tagging along? Surrounded by dysfunctional beings. Dallas and Smith on the away team, Hunter on this redundant trip. Someone was bound and determined to send him over the edge. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Where is Legate Pryce-Randall? Should she not be present at this transfer of command codes?" Following the snarly-looking human out into the Miranda corridors, the big-headed Vulcan behind him that was more emotional than most humans he knew, he half-expected the Legate to arrive any moment as they passed through the throngs infesting the hallways. Yet she did not appear, unexpectedly. She is of a personality that is never late.

"Busy." Arel replied. She could have told him more but since he was practically sneering at her, she figured he could find out what was keeping Pryce-Randall on his own.

"That is an unsatisfactory answer, Commander." Why did these Terrans feel the need to convey the least information possible? "She is an integral part of this mission. A simply 'Busy' does not constitute a proper analogy of the situation for if her presence was required. One word replies other than yes or no - and even that must precede the standard 'Aye' - denote a lack of intelligence. Now, where is she?"

8-ball shook her head. God, Curran was such an annoying pain in the ass. Even the security chief who looked like she wouldn't know a good party if it hit her wasn't nearly as irritating as he was. Maybe what Curran needed was some decoration. 8-ball tried to picture him with a smile on his face, a cute little flower and ribbon in his hair. She surpressed the fit of giggles as best as she could.

"Legate Curran." Arel replied flatly. "We're on yellow alert. While I believe its highly unlikely that you are Breen spies, my orders are to escort you to your offices, not have you waltzing about this ship. I'm sure the Legate will be waiting for you there. And If you are uncapable of walking from point A to point B, then we can turn around right now and beam you back to the Galaxy."

"All up for that plan," 8-ball muttered. She turned to Curran, tried to appeal to his better nature before remembering he didn't have one. "You know you don't want to be here anyway."

"I don't want to be here? Are you a Starfleet Officer, or am I trapped in grade school? It is our *duty* to be here. So much for Galaxy being an isolated incident. As for waltzing about this ship, Commander... I don't believe dancing in the halls is for anyone other than Science Officers giddy over some male who they believe is interested in anything other having them arrested for stalking." He didn't have to catch Hunter's eye for the inferred insult.

8-ball closed her eyes. She would not kill him. She would not kill him.In fact, she wouldn't have to. Curran was too much of a tiresome pissant to not have annoyed anyone he had ever met. Someone soon would murder him for her and she wouldn't have to go to jail herself.

"Save your witless comments for those that are braindead. Take me where I need to be and be done with it. I'm as puzzled as anyone why Captain Elaithin would send a child-bearing woman into hostile territory as her own armed guard. I seriously hope you do not put us all at risk, for I'll kill you myself if the mission is put at stake."

"Oh, I sincerly hope you try, Legate." Arel said. "It's been awhile since I've gotten to kill someone official."

8-ball closed her eyes in silent prayer that this might actually come true.

Curran pinched his eyes at the infernal woman. His finger twitched towards to position on his waistline where a neutralizer would lay. It was a nervous habit whenever he was overly irritated.

"I sincerely doubt you would, 'Commander. Your kind lack the capability to do so."

Arel snorted. "You don't look like much, Squid. I bet this girl could take you." The security officer tilted her head to the side. "Or did she already?"

"Foolish child!" The comment has ruffled his feathers somewhat, but he still maintained the integrity of remaining true to himself.

"Betraying one's own self-values doesn't make one a winner. Never hide who and what you are, and take advantage of the strongest of resources. Running emotionally rampant, insulting oneself is only self-defeating. It's aweakness that can and will be exploited until the issues within are resolved and one voice coordinates the chaos." If Hunter had focused on her Vulcan half, accepting and embracing it, she would've finished the bout in half the time. The fact she was still in Starfleet was an embarrassment and affront to all that the Federation should stand for.

8-ball stopped walking and turned to Curran. "Look," 8-ball said, "first off, I never betrayed my self values. My self- values say there's nothing wrong with smashing a chair into an asshole's head. Doesn't upset me too much. Would do it again if I had the chance. What MY values say is that denying myself emotion, smothering it to the back of my mind and pretending to be some kind of drone, would be a betrayal to myself and to my character. To be honest, Curran, I don't give a good God fuck if you like me or not. I certainly don't like you. I'd be happier if I never had to see you, or, more importantly, hear you, ever, ever again. But I don't get that choice. I may not like Starfleet but I'm in it whether you like it or not. It's a JOB and I have no plans to leave. So unless you want to quit or just do us all a favor and die, why don't you back the fuck off and we can all get this over with, because I'm sure that we all. . .well, that Commander Smith and I. . .have better things to do. Okay?"

"If it involves derogatory, insultory, and wasteful remarks, by all means. Go away. This petty banter is beneath me." He waved a pale hand as if to ward away a servant who'd come to shine his shoes. "The stench in this room suddenly became unbearable." Sniffing, his nose curled. "Bovine excrement. Something must be done about the ventilation."

"Look, as fascinating as this conversation has become," Arel interrupted. "can we please start moving again?"

Curran had already moved to the exit ahead of the reproachful women. When Kelva had taken control of the Federation, the first change that would be made would be to remove women from any form of contact with the senior responsibilities and back to artisanship where they belonged. Such emotion was detrimental to the futures of all species, and these softhearted humanoid leaders never even opted to act.

"If the two of you can cease being insubordinate enough to perform your duties while in uniform, I'll be on my way." He depressed the keypad that would permit his access to the corridor beyond.

Arel shrugged. Let him walk about. The first security guard who saw him would pin his ass to the floor and detain him for questioning. The Miranda didn't have any Kelvans on board.

Her lips twitched slightly at thinking of how outraged his face would get.

"Follow me, Ensign." She told the other woman.

"Suspicions and Students"

by
Trevor as Cat, CMO
and
Koen as Brooke,
aCMO
and
Mark as Lorian, MO

Brooke was reading the results of the scan he managed to get from Mitchell. Standing up, he walked to the office next to him, where Cat was working on what seemed to be paperwork. "You have a moment, Cat," he asked.

Cat spun in her chair from her study of a secondary terminal she had installed in her office. She turn to look at Brooke who came through the door. "James, yes, come in. What is it?"

"I have here something I think you might be interested in," Brooke said, handing over the PADD.

Cat nodded as she took the padd from James' hand. Her right eyebrow rose in a most vulcanesque way as she noticed the patient of the notes. She thumbed a control on the padd and after a few pages looked back at James. "Very interesting."

"You said you wanted proof," Brooke said, "I know it's not fully conclusive, but it is enough to merit further investigation."

Putting the padd on the desk, she rested her chin on her hand as she continued to thumb through the data. Her eyes narrowed as her ears flicked forward, and James noticed that her tail had even stopped it's normal swaying.

Reading the padd upside down, James saw that Cat was looking at the 'shadowed' areas in James Mitchell's brain. Something in which the Medical Computer could not decipher. Even in the few minutes from the first scan to the last scan, one of the 'areas' had moved, it was only a few millimetres, but it had moved.

"James, two things, I want you to go over the sensor and the raw data. I want confirmation that this 'movement' was actual, not a glitch in processing. Second thing, you would have studied this till the cows had come home. I want your initial diagnosis, with Mitchell as a patient."

"I already did the raw data," Brooke said, "and I ran a level one diagnostic on the biobed scanners I used, as it was almost due for one anyway. It's no processing artefact. As for my diagnosis, I don't have any, except the parasite thing. But it does warrent a more thorough investigation."

Looking at James, Cat frowned, "Right now, it does. I am worried about the notes that had been collected from the Cardassian and those dangers. But I will be taking this to the xo."

"Good," Brooke said, "the sooner this is over, the better."

"But nothing is going to happen until we leave Breen space. But I will talk with Brex as soon as I can."

"I understand," Brooke said, "can you ask the XO to keep it silent. Mitchell treatened me during the exam, and I'd rather not watch my back constantly. I'd rather have he doesn't know anything untill we move."

Cat frown as her slitted pupils quickly narrowed and then opened again as she looked at James, "Threaten? How?" Any officer threatening another officer was not a good thing. But when someone threaten her officers, they were looking for trouble. "Explain, James!"

"He said that if I 'engineered' -that was his term- something that made his life unbearable, he would do the same to me. And he mentioned phasers in passing, if I recall correctly," Brooke said, "but don't worry, I'll set it up so that if something happens to me, some admirals I know will get a nice package of information. Shouldn't be too hard to do. I only have to let it be known to Mitchell that things are set up like that. He should be smart enough to know what's best for him, me, and perhaps you, or an official Starfleet enquiry with all the bells and whistles."

"Doctor Brooke, you will do no such thing. This is a Starfleet vessel, not Cardassian. We do not work by threats of blackmail. If Mister Mitchell says anything like that again, remind him of his rights and obligations. If he has a problem with one of my people he comes to me. Because if he does even remotely try it again, I will be going to my superior, Commander Brex. I will not have any of my people act like Romulan spies. I hate politics and I hate the pussyfooting around I have to do because of the egos on this ship. But I won't have 'vigilante' actions, nor threats against threats. Next it will be sos'taj in the spine! There are protocols on this ship and they will be followed. Am I understood?"

"Aye," Brooke said. He would take some actions anyway, but much more covert. Things like that were probably genetic.

"Good. Now, I will speak with Brex and we will discuss the issue. It will stay quiet, unless I deem it necessary. That satisfactory with you?"

"Okay," Brooke said, "but I would like you to give me some warning if possible. It's not only me, but also Shinta and the kids I have to think about."

"I will. Ok James. Is there anything else you would like to discuss?" Cat asked.

"The reason why we did the test," Brooke said, "no-one of them has any genetic predisposition towards EIS, so I think we won't see that problem coming up."

Cat looked at James, her face made it obvious that she wasn't convinced. "I hope you are right."

"We haven't found anything," Brooke said, "and it should show up, so there is nothing."

"I'll let you get back to being a doctor James. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Brooke said, heading back out towards his office and the paperwork there.

=====

Running a hand through his hair in a vain effort to organise the naturally occurring mess, Lorian Vas entered Main Sickbay, with a smile on his face, which quickly faded as he passed a Breen Observer passing in the opposite direction. The creature, who seemed to Lorian to radiate bad feelings, gave a dismissive glance to Lorian; at least the Trill imagined it to be dismissive, one could never be certain with Breen.

Failing to suppress a shudder, Lorian proceeded to enter into Sickbay, to find a security officer - the name of whom Lorian seemed to remember as Sophie Saran - comforting one of the Miranda's medical technicians, Bella Rivera. As he arrived at the Bio-bed upon which Bella was leaning, Saran gave Bella a quick hug, Lorian a smile, and chased after her partner and the Breen.

Apparently, Bella had been given a hard time by the visiting Breen, a revelation in response to which Lorian swore under his breath; a rarity, to be sure, as Lorian was not normally to express any sort of displeasure, particularly not in stronger forms. He reassured the younger woman and ordered her to exchange assignments with crewman Mankoi, so that she could have a "break."

Sometimes, Lorian thought, this extra pip has it's advantages.

Satisfied that Bella was okay, Lorian headed across to the Chief Medical Officer's Office, nodding a greeting to Lieutenant Brooke the ACMO, who returned a slight distracted nod in return, and pushed the panel, sounding a chime.

After her meeting with James, with his rather interesting revelations, Cat was still studying the padd and it's possible consequences and meaning. Cat looked up at the chime, and nodded to Lorian to come in. Quickly she spun and but the padd on the cupboard behind her and turned as Lorian stood in front of her desk.

"Sit down Lorian," Cat offered the seat with her hand.

"Thank you." returned the other, sliding gracefully into a seat on his side of the desk.

"What is it that I can do for you?" she asked.

Lorian cleared his throat, and began to speak. "When I was onboard the Sequoia," he began, "I began studying to become a fully qualified doctor with the Chief Medical Officer. I think my file shows that I was making good progress, and I would like to continue my studies onboard Miranda, with your help."

Cat nodded, "Most certainly." Moving from behind her desk, she sat on edge, "Shows how unobservant I've been. I will have to catch up on that immediately," Cat smiled. "So what is the speciality you are working on?"

Returning the smile, Lorian continued. "Xenobiological Research and Analysis, although I hope to be relatively sufficient in most forms of medicine, from Neurobiology to Pediatrics. How do you think we should proceed?"

"When it comes to a general practice, you will have plenty of experience for that. So don't be to eager to rush into that one. You've got yourself a pretty wide speciality. But for what I usually do is keep my doors open, to act as a mentor and what I normally do is roster a single half shift a week for you to work on your studies. This is in conjuction of your studies that you do when not on duty. I can put aside a little time to talk with you, discuss any problems or special needs you might have for you to finish off the degree. In general, I provide you the support, you've still got the hard work ahead of you."

"Open doors, mentor, hard work," Lorian listed, checking each on his fingers, "got it! So, how do you think I should start?"

"Well, you said that you were doing studies on the Sequoia. Give me an idea of what you were doing on her, we'll have a look at the requirements and go from there. I'll have a look at where you are in your studies and I'll have a better idea on where we should go. But for a start - just continue where you left off on the Sequoia," returned Cat.

Lorian studied the padd that had remained in his right hand throughout the conversation, thumbing the controls that ordered the screen to display his own log entries, he checked his last Sequoia entry; in the excitement of the transfer and mission, even he had forgotten where he was up to. Finding the appropiate information, he placed the padd on the desk and thrust it towards Cat, whilst explaining his progress.

"When the Sequoia was stationed as the flagship of the Genesis Wave cleanup, the CMO decided to make the work we did there; from identifying and studying new lifeforms, to autopsying the Lomar victims; my studies. So, I went about my duties as "normal", although nothing was normal about the wave, and by gaining the experience, I was completing my studies as required. Then I "tagged" the CMO, helping him with surgeries, analysis and anything else. I even helped deliver a baby when I was with him" he added, a fond look coming accross his eyes as he stared into space for a moment, before regaining his composure.

"So," he concluded, "I guess I'll just go about business as usual, but I would like to tag along with you where possible."

"Most of it's pretty boring," Cat returned with a smile. "Paperwork seems to take most of it," Cat pointed to the padds on her desk. "But certainly, that could be arranged."

"Oh," Lorian added, with a sudden rememberance, I also meant to ask your permission to do a survey of Breen physiology. I noticed the database was a little grey in that area. Would you have to clear that sort of thing with the captain?"

"I can deal with that," answered Cat. "That won't be difficult."

"Thanks Cat," returned Lorian, trying out the casual name with caution, and growing more confident when he was not reprimanded, "I'll get onto that right away, unless-" "Medic to the Anbo-Jyitsu room!" announced a voice over the communicator, putting voice to Lorian's thoughts. Anbo-Jyitsu had been, and would be, a thorn in Lorian's side; always a sprained ankle or bloodied nose to treat. Still, treating injuries like that was what he did, and he did it well.

"I'll take it." he decided, a smile growing on his face, "Besides, I haven't given anyone a lecture on the dangers of Anbo-Jyitsu for a whole two days." With a cheeky sparkle winking in his eyes, Lorian left the office, grabbing a medical kit, before marching from Main Sickbay with a chuckle.

Cat gave a slight chuckle and returned to the padd that James had given her. Sighing, she reached out and tapped the terminal on her desk, "Computer: Set up a meeting with Commander Brex, his earliest convenience."

"Renewing old aquaintences."

*Takes place immediately after Pat's "A tip of the gloved hand."

With
Ensign Zeke Wikkins,
Security,

and the former XO of the USS GALAXY, Commander Christopher Kell Thomas.

Place: The Breen conference room.
Time: Seconds after the Federation envoy's comm badges began to chirp.

There is an old adage that time heals all wounds.

Usually, as the sands fall through the hourglass of life, animosities cool and the rising tide of vengeance and ill will begins to ebb. Separated lovers can now pass one another without feeling the sting or heart ache. Enemies can find themselves in dialogues of peace. Axes get buried. Grudges dissolve.

Usually.

Sometimes however, the flames of pure hatred and the desire for vengeance can consume a man.

Commander Christopher Kell Thomas is an example of that.

Moments ago he had sprawled across the cold table top in an apparent drunken haze, spit falling from his lips.

After being rousted by the hustle and bustle of an apparent emergency forming around the Breen delegates and the Federation officers, he assumed a more alert posture more befitting of a trained Starfleet officer - yet at the same time, he allowed himself to appear nonchalant and almost forcibly disinterested.

To anyone who has known him, the man was hardly recognizable.

Since he had been exiled to the frozen tundra of Breen, the appearance of the former XO of the USS GALAXY had changed radically. Where once he sat proud and tall in the Number One seat on the bridge of the vaunted flagship of the Federation, he now lounged coiled calmly like a viper waiting to strike.

The warm demeanor of the bearded man that had once drawn comparisons to his Enterprise equal: Will Riker had been replaced by an ill hidden bitterness that simmered just below the surface of the man now sporting a graying goatee.

He had slimmed down considerably, giving his body a more lean and lithe muscular look.

A dangerous look.

He raised a pale skinned arm up and motioned the mammoth Security officer closer while never moving his distant gaze from the pair of Captains now consulting with their crewmates.

"What is it with the Galaxy and having looming Security Officers? The Gorn, the Indian and now you. What ever happened to the good old days when Security could walk through a doorway without turning sideways?" Thomas asked.

"Brother Thomas, please forgive my display of ignorance but to my knowledge Brother Zonheib is no longer on the ship. Brother Darkstar has been reassigned to unknown duties." Wikkins said with a shrug.

"Also to my recollection, there are no limits on the size of the Security Staff on this ship. Although I do remember a Dr. Sansky being extremely thorough in measuring my body before I was transferred to the Galaxy. I found that to be odd as only cousin Merrium had shown me such..attention before. She had such gentle hands despite having such thick callouses from years of groping udders."

Thomas raised an eyebrow and then allowed a smile to split his face.

"Ensign, you are not only a breath of fresh air in my banal existence, but no doubt a perfect fit amongst the rest of the misfits on that ship. Tell me, what lost soul do they have in charge of Security now? Has Savat returned and reclaimed his mantle after wrestling with Pon Far? Pailaka transfer over from the Helm? Maybe even the hellcat O'Grady?"

"I am afraid that Savat, Pailaka and O'Grady are not active members of the crew. Brother Corgan is now the active Chief of Security." Wikkins said.

"CORGAN?!?!" Thomas said with a laugh, "They must be desperate for manpower to give the reigns of a department to that emotional train wreck. Streely must have been frolicking in some tramps bed when they were searching for a replacement."

Across the table, the faces of the Federation crew grew more somber. Thomas inclined his head in their direction.

"Looks like the kids are having yet another crisis. Someone probably misplaced their collection of edged weapons again. Tell me, clod. What of the Centurion Tactical officer...Lysander Hawksley? He and the little red headed OPS genius were always climbing the ladder, usually stepping on each other in the process." Commander Thomas asked, the smell of alcohol upon his breath. "I'm suprised that they're not in today's dog and pony show either."

"Commander Hawksley and Commander Von Ernst both shared XO duties after Commander Peterson who assumed thy duties when thee were transferred. Both Brother Hawksley and Sister Von Ernst were transferred to classified assignments." Wikkins said. "And had I known that there were to be pony exhibits today, I would have requested permission to record them on a holo. My uncle Zebediah has a deep love for horses."

Thomas reddened slightly with annoyance.

"Peterson from Sciences? As XO? Who will they promote next? Shinta?McAllen? The mad Russian doctor?"

"Brother Malgan is no longer aboard the ship. The name Shinta is unfamiliar to me and Sister McAllen is a member of our Liaison Corps." Wikkins said.

"A Liaison Corp?!?! I suppose next you will be telling me that the ship was staffed with Marines too?"

"It was. Now we have a Starfighter Corps."

The former XO seemed to digest this carefully before turning once again to the Amish officer.

"What of Captain Bhrode? Where is he now? Died at the hands of some Hirogen? Assimilated by a Borg maybe? Leading a cavalry charge against an army of Jem Hedar footsoldiers?"

"Captain Bhrode is currently reassigned. He may indeed be encountering Borg or Jem Hedar. Rumor has it that he had boots made of the hide of a Hirogen. Perhaps rumors of his death in such a fashion are inaccurate."

Thomas slapped the table top in disgust.

"Is there nobody on board anymore?! They drove me from my ship and now they are not even there! That's Starfleet for you. They stab you in the back and then give what is yours away to complete strangers!"

"Brother Thomas, if my words have upset thee, I ask for thy forgiveness. I shall assign myself a rigorous penance for my error upon my return to the GALAXY." Wikkins offered.

Commander Thomas locked gazes with the hulking officer and grinned.

"On the contrary...Brother Wikkins. This conversation has been most enlightening. I hope you and I have the chance to speak further sometime. Right now it looks like business is about to pick up." he said nodding once more to the two Captains who had returned to the table with concern painted on their faces.


*(Authors note: Names above were drawn from the USS GALAXY TOS website. If I have erred in rank, personnel or position, I apologize. I figured while he is being mentioned, lets flesh Thomas out a little bit and add to the story! - Stash)

[Backpost]

"Dropping the Hammer"

(Takes place immediately after "Rage against the M'Kantu")

Principal Characters

Captain Daren M'Kantu
Lt. Commander James Corgan

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

Daren looked down at the series of reports in front of him and shook his head. Even on second review there was nothing else to do. Corgan's behavior was, simply put, over the line. There was no room for anything but the course that he'd laid out to the Sub-Commander, although, with luck, Corgan wouldn't have to face a courts martial. With luck.

=/\= "M'Kantu to Corgan. My Ready Room. Now." =/\=

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 38
Security Main

The spirited, rather surly message from M'Kantu to Corgan came right after his more enduring moments.

The security code was ready.

Tekri was in a position to be thoroughly stung.

Hell, even the security team, the mandatory combat ready team for Alpha shift that was organized during their tenure into Breen space (but could conveniently apprehend a criminal at any moment, if Tekri choose to strike) was ready to move out, on his command.

M'Kantu's message could not have arrived at a worse time, right after James said, "We have that b*tch in our trap now!"

Somehow, James had let his guard down on fortune. He had the good luck of being with a spectacular woman, and preventing an assassination at the same time. How he did not see M'Kantu flushing that opportunity down the toilet was surprising at best, and exasperating at the worse.

T'lan added in, "The Captain seems displeased.", knowing full well what Corgan was doing (lewd acts involving a certain Tal'Shiar spy and the sting that was to follow) and why.

The incident smacked of yet another wall waiting to assail him. James grumbled, "Thank you once again for upholding the counselor and security officer's tradition of stating the obvious."

Then, James stormed out of the security office, leaving T'lan to be miffed for the first time in her life. A Vulcan's dissatisfaction about a fellow officer's attitude could wait. James had a sting to salvage.

*****

USS Galaxy
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

When James entered the room, Daren was standing by the window, mug of coffee in hand, staring at the stars as they flew by. A stack of PADDs filled fully a third of his desk, some awaiting the yeoman's arrival to pick them up, but the majority still unprocessed.

"Commander," Daren began without preamble, waiting only for the door to close. "Is there some reason you felt the need to send an invitation to Starfleet Internal Affairs to come and make your life into an approximation of hell?"

Corgan found the captain's unwillingness to cut straight to the point disconcerting, as if the Captain was waiting for Corgan to trip on his own words. ~"If that's how you want it Captain..."~ He thought, steel eyed, straight in military 'at ease' stance, waiting for the next move. A response wasn't easy, considering how little he wanted to reveal, without resorting to a smart-alec comment.

Though he had to admit, a threat from Starfleet Internal Affairs seemed miniscule compared to that of Admiral Hoth himself from three months ago.

"Sir." James slipped into soldier mode, answering with no distress and no fear of danger, but without much else emotion, "The issue at hand, sir."

"Your ill-advised and highly public affair with Atole Tekri, Commander," Daren said quietly. "Unless, of course, you've done something else that I haven't heard about yet that also qualifies." He turned and looked at James. "Have you?"

"No, just that." James nodded calmly, "Only other thing I can think of was during the war, and that was pardoned before a judicial committee." His eyes glimmered with a look that warned Captain M'Kantu not to enquire. "As for the Romulan attaché officer, I admit to an affair with her. We have had a relationship on and off for the past few months. It has become physical twice during these months, in which afterwards I have been checked over by a physician. Mostly however it has been conversation."

Shocked at the sudden willingness to come forward, James found his weight of guilt temporarily propped up.

Shifting temporary control of the inquiry, not trusting M'Kantu to understand Corgan's plans to stop his assassin girlfriend, he finished, "This isn't about physical details, Captain. I assume you are more interested in the ramifications of such a relationship, are you sir?"

"Whether or not I am, Commander, you can rest assured that the investigators from Internal Affairs will be," Daren replied. "You're going to be talking to them no matter what is said in this room, since Sub-Commander tr'Khellian has lodged a formal complaint against you - rightly so, considering your position and responsibilities. I have no ability to block such a complaint, and, frankly, at this instant, no inclination to do so even if I did."

There it was, the point M'Kantu brought up that would damn Corgan no matter what action he took. His face glowed red, and only then did he let his businesslike, soldierly manner drop. "So, no matter what reason I give, I am damned either way Sir. Am I correct in this assertion?"

tr'Khellian's name rolled about his head, associating itself with hatred and betrayal. ~"Wasn't he there with Major Bolivar and myself? Did he not hear my plan to get closer to the spy in order to catch her? Why did he doubt my abilities at this crucial time?! Because of his big f**king mouth, Savar's going to ruin the sting... and if he's the target, he's going to die while I wait to be disciplined! What a f**king idiot!"~

"No, Commander, I didn't say that. What I said was that you were going to be *investigated* no matter what happened. There's a difference between that and having your caree4r go down the drain because you couldn't keep your pants on."

"Then what am I supposed to say, sir?" Corgan roiled, showing considerably more restraint than Savar in his meeting with the Captain hours ago, "Do you expect me to sputter out some lame excuse... a crime of passion, or a verbose explanation about how I feel about her that will somehow get my ass out of the chopping block? Sir, with all due respect, your mind's made up. You said so yourself, no matter the outcome or the reason... disciplinary action is the only end of my road." With that point laid deeply with a smattering of frustration and futility, James sighed, "I supposed he didn't say why I choose to do this with Tekri, but then again telling him I would keep an eye on her was too vague, sir."

Daren sighed. "You might try offering a reasoned explanation, Commander. I never said that my mind was made up, just that I had no reason to block the complaint at this time. If you give me that reason, then the only thing you need to worry about is internal affairs - and I'll be standing there with you against them with they come. Without that reason, you're on your own."

"Sir, I knew what she was. Major Bolivar briefed me himself, and Savar was at the meeting because we suspected him to be the mark. I was also quite aware of how she zeroed in on me when she first arrived on the ship. It was all so clear. She is the spy, and I am the man who holds all the keys to this ship. To catch her in the act of performing her mission, she would have to go through me... and I was willing to use it to my advantage, even if it meant doing some very... terrible things."

"Assignments like that are never something to rush into; too many things can go wrong. And allowing yourself to become intimate with the operative you are attempting to capture..." Daren shook his head. "Rash, Mr. Corgan, too rash. There are protocols for that sort of thing, and you failed to follow them. That's going to be a problem."

"Sir, I had to act normal." Corgan sheepishly admitted, hinting at embarrassment, "When a beautiful young woman approaches you, is it so easily ignored?"

"If the woman in question is a Romulan operative, the answer would be yes. I can speak with experience in that regard, Commander: I was propositioned by a lovely Romulan officer, just after my wife and I separated. She was charming, supportive, and beautiful - and I was very lonely. I still said no the first and only time the subject of intimacy appeared."

"I still had to play along in order to catch her, sir. Treat her like a pariah, and she would eventually catch onto us. Thwart her at every turn and she would know we knew about her mission. Therefore, I had to be the dupe, the bait, the idiot, lust driven security chief to draw her in close... Or in other words, act normal! With her so close to me, she could take bait that would appear to help her on her mission, while in truth lead her to eventual capture."

"Did it cross your mind, Commander, that it might be... wise... to include you commanding officer on this plan? Or perhaps seek assistance from the Intelligence department? As I said earlier, there are protocols for this sort of thing, and you bypassed or ignored them. That's the part that I'm going to have trouble defending you on."

"For secrecy's sake, sir. The less people know, the better." James reasoned. "Better chance of keeping the sting a secret from her. Besides, I did get a physician's approval for intimate relations with Tekri, that documentation I can provide, and I am the head of security. As you know, you need the approval of a department head to get approval for a relationship with an alien species. A loophole, but one that I admit to using. So secondly, if I was to act normal, the subject wouldn't come up with you because all the necessary approval would have been garnered. But as for the idea of stinging the agent... I was afraid it would be leaked if I talked to you about it. After all, you would be a target for information."

He continued, "The intelligence officer in this operation is gone, as well as his wife, as you are aware. The new officer will need to be briefed right away, but with all our work on the Breen assignment and putting in 14 hour days for most of this week to prepare that and look into the Hazard Team idea... it has not been easy."

Daren waited patiently for James to finish. "Commander, I realize that this is a situation that hasn't come up before, and I am currently taking that into account, which is why you are not relieved of duty at this moment. Your interesting evasion of the requirements for duty-related extra-special conjugal relations notwithstanding, Starfleet regulations are quite clear on what authorization is required to undertake an operation of this sort, and the initial requirement is the authorization of the undercover officer's commanding officer. That would be me, in case you've forgotten. I gave no such permission, and, as such, I am well within the power granted to me by those same regulations to shut this operation down immediately." He sipped his coffee. "Do you understand that?"

Defeated, Corgan bowed his head, "Yes sir. Understood, sir."

"Good." Daren walked back to his desk and set the coffee down. "Now that we understand each other, we can get down to business. For the duration of this mission you are relieved of your duties with regards to the personal security for Sub-Commander tr'Khellian to prevent a conflict of interest and to compartmentalize any possible security leaks. Said duties are, at the request of the Sub-Commander, transferred to Lieutenant Krieghoff. Do you understand that?"

Listening with silent horror, Corgan was helpless while watching M'Kantu tear apart his plan. For all that it was worth, James Corgan was defeated, his sting was in ruins, and he still had to contend with Tekri, whom for all purposes wanted him either controlled or dead.

"Understood sir. I'll break off relations with Tekri immediately and give all I found to Lieutenant Krieghoff." Accepting defeat, Corgan nodded his head in agreement.

"Commander," Daren sighed. "You're not listening again. Did I, at any point, tell you that you were to break off anything?"

Confused, James asked, "Sir, if I'm in trouble for having a relationship, shouldn't I break it off? And if I'm ordered to stay off a case, should I not do so? What do you have in mind?" ~"Hold up moron! He said you're off the case for Savar's protection."~ He thought to himself.

"You're in trouble, Mr. Corgan, for not following regulations and securing command approval for an..." Daren looked pained, "...undercover... operation."

Corgan in turn couldn't help but be impatient, "And you are pulling me off Savar protection duty as a result. But what about Tekri? What should I do about her?"

"I'm removing you from the chain of command for the Sub-Commander's personal security for three reasons, Commander. One, because what you don't know you cannot be coerced to reveal. Two, because it's a distraction you don't need while managing the rest of the assignment. And three, because if push comes to shove, I do not want even the slightest chance of a conflict of interest to delay your taking action in protecting the Sub-Commander. Whether I like the man or not, Krieghoff will do what's necessary to protect the Sub-Commander." Daren took another sip of his coffee. "Additionally, by taking you out of the chain of command, I remove an avenue of attack for Internal Affairs to use against you - which we both know they would, no matter what the outcome."

In all accounts, M'Kantu was right about all points. Though James worried about Krieghoff's tendency to go above the regulations, he stayed silent and nodded his agreements. He didn't want to come off as a hypocrite. "Yes sir."

"Good. That's settled then. Now let's get down to your operation to entrap our Romulan agent, Commander. Tell me what you've done and are planning to do."

"Here is what I was planning to do, sir." James explained, "A handful of my most trusted staff, Lieutenants Krieghoff, T'lan and the late Lieutenant D'Tinya, are responsible for monitoring her movements, with D'Tinya as the liaison to the intelligence department. When Tekri first came aboard, we noticed that she took an interest in me specifically. The plan was to exploit this interest, by using me to personally observe her movements, piece together a psychological profile, and unravel her plan of assassination."

"As for entrapment, it hinges on a vital piece of information... her mark. Though we have a good reason to believe Sub-Commander tr'Khellian is the primary suspect, this fact is not without unreasonable doubt. We have Sub-Commander tr'Khellian discreetly well protected, with our usual team on deck 12 assigned to protect visitors and foreign dignitaries as well as our standby security unit near transporter room 1. However, if Tekri's mark is someone else... we may not be able to respond in time. Therefore, it was my task to find out by using my relationship with her... by whatever means available that do not violate her rights."

"Once we found out her mark and have proof, by voice record, communications logs or the files on her system, our security teams can then move in to neutralize her. We want to do this before she can pull off an attempt, but if in the event that we find out her mark while she tries to attempt the assassination, we will have security squads as mentioned before scramble and apprehend her."

"What do you have on her at the moment, Commander? Has your operation yielded any results yet?"

"Well sir... she has attempted to hack into our system a few times." Corgan mentioned, "She even tried to take my security code, but we caught her in the act and changed the code a minute later, sir. If anything, we can bust her for unlawful entry into our systems, but that would deny us the chance to confirm her victim. Still, a good backup plan in case things get too hard to handle."

"Agreed." Daren thought for a moment. "What precautions have you taken to isolate your codes from contravention if she does gain access to them again? I doubt