"A Refit of Galactic Proportions"

(Backpost: Takes place before the memory traveling subplot begins.)

By

Lt. Brianna O'Shea, Chief Engineer

Lt. JG Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief

Location: Main Engineering, USS Galaxy

There was one thing about Main Engineering that never changed, Iniara noted as she walked through the hallways of Deck 36. It was always busy. Which is why she got right to the point, grabbing the first crewman she could get her hands on.

"I'm looking for Lieutenant O'Shea."

Silently the young crewman pointed across the room, pinpointing the location of the Chief Engineer. Before Iniara could even thank him he was gone, dashing down the hall with purpose.

Carefully she made her way across the room, doing her best to avoid all the personnel moving about. When she had received the message from Lt. O'Shea, Iniara had decided there was no time like the present and had quickly made her way to Main Engineering. Now, as she barely avoided yet another collision, she wondered if she should have waited until later.

Eventually she came upon the woman who had been pointed out to her. Not wanting to interrupt, Iniara instead positioned herself to the side, waiting for an opportune pause in the Chief Engineer's flurry of action.

Anna was standing there fixing a problem a name less ensign had created and then turned to look at the man. "From now on I don't want you doing anything without someone else with you. You say it was a mistake, fourth year cadets don't make that kind of mistake, Ensign. I suggest you find a copy of the Starfleet Engineering Study Manual and began reading and praying because I'm going to be watching and testing you over the course of the next few weeks.

I need able-bodied people, not people who botch things." Anna said in a civil manner and then her eyes drifted over toward the woman standing there.

"Yes, 'Lieutenant?" she said then looking at Iniara.

"Lieutenant O'Shea?" Iniara began, stepping forward. It was less a question than it was a simple confirmation of the woman's identity. "Tarin Iniara, Operations. I received your message requesting a meeting. Is this a good time, or should I return later?"

"Oh yes... no, now is fine. I can take a break for a moment. How about we talk in my office." Brianna said as she gestured toward the office. Once inside she went to the replicator. "Would you care for something?" Anna asked and then asked for her glass of water.

"Just a glass of water, please," Iniara replied, before sliding into an available chair.

"What I wanted to speak to you about was outfitting the Galaxy with new components... such as boder lines. They're obsolete and outdated... yet Starfleet continues to use them. I want to get into fabricating new components. For that I'm going to need Operations' help. Please know my intention is to change not only Engineering but any department that has parts that are old and outdated."

"Sounds like a big project. I was under the impression that many older components had been cycled out during the refit, but it seems I was wrong. That would have made our lives too easy, I guess."

"Such a large-scale update is going to take a lot of resources, and a lot of coordination with all our departments. Which I'm sure you already realized, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here right now." Iniara leaned forward in her chair, pulling a PADD from its usual spot under the back of her jacket. "So, how to best approach this? Are there any particularly bad areas you would like to tackle first?"

"With the time frame we had to work with, all we could do was remove what was damaged and replace. Wasn't much time for retrofitting old components." Brianna said, as she turned and sat back down with a mug of raktijeno. "I'm thinking Engineering and Operations, mainly cause we need those departments in top form. Once they are done, we can work on the other departments." Anna said, then sipped her drink and continuing.

"I'm interested in what you think of it. Please, if we are going to work together, let’s set aside formalities. Call me Anna..." She said, then offered a warm smile.

"In that case, please call me Iniara," the Bajoran replied, echoing the other woman's smile. Shifting gears smoothly, she continued on.

"Engineering seems the most logical place to start. And with the warp engine tests in progress, it seems only natural that we focus on that area. What I'm thinking is that we assign teams of people to each problem spot: diagnostic specialists and technicians to assess each area, with the design-oriented personnel there to develop a solution. Once they come up with a potential fix, have them run it by you and your assistants, revise and tweak it until we get a final solution. Then we can work on the fabrication of any needed parts and supervise their seamless integration into ship's systems."

As she spoke, Iniara began to tap on her PADD, taking a few brief notes though still maintaining eye contact with Anna. "Of course, I will make sure that all my personnel are well briefed on this project, so that no irritating misunderstandings or work stoppages occur. I can also offer several officers and a multitude of enlisted crewmen who have very strong backgrounds in Engineering, should you need additional help."

"Any help would be most appreciated," Anna replied, then took a drink from her mug. "I've sent a note to Captain M'Kantu about what we will be doing. I expect him approve the project shortly. When I get that I'll make sure you get a copy, that way we are all working on the same page. Might be good to copy the leader to all department heads so they all know what to expect in the long term," Anna said, then made some notes herself.

"Do you have any questions before I get back to work?" Anna asked.

"No, none right now." Iniara shook her head slightly, tapping out a few last notes before sliding the PADD back to its original spot under her uniform. "I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary, so if there's nothing else I'll let you get back to what you were doing."

"Alright... get any ideas. Let me know, we'll get together in a few days and go over what we start with here in Engineering. Good to be working with you, Lt." Brianna said, then gave a nod and headed out.

"A Little Harm"

Unaurie Quyve, Civilian Scientist

= = =

Main Engineering Offices
Unaurie's Office

The ship had settled into normal space again, leaving Unaurie with both a banging headache and the sense that she'd not quite been able to give the Captain the message she'd intended to give him. There was still something wrong with the whole setup, something the Deltan woman couldn't quite put her finger on. She had been certain of something, danger, a great harm that was coming to them, something. Now she couldn't quite remember.. It bothered her a great deal.

Her stomach twisted, once again upset by the medication she took to suppress her pheromones, but there was work to do of a theoretical kind and that was why Starfleet wanted the scientist aboard the ship in the first place. What about the warp bubble had caused the ship to slip into that alien dimension? Was it the nature of the warp bubble at all, or something to do with the way warp travel had a way of decaying the fiber of space in the first place? Was that alien dimension the correct subspace dimension in the first place? There were too many questions and not nearly enough data to fill in the holes.

Unaurie grabbed a waste receptacle and quietly retched into it. Only water and bile came up. She hadn't eaten in twelve, no fourteen hours now, by the way she figured it. She'd been too busy with getting things ready for the test run. It hadn't even occurred to her. At least it hadn't been a completely dry heave, she consoled herself as she ran through what little data they could salvage from the nonsense the ships computer had automatically picked up during the testing.

"Forgot to eat again?" a familiar voice asked.

Unaurie didn't look up. She recognized the voice of Lieutenant Commander Daniel Fraiser without needing to look. She suspected if she did look he'd still be 'Lieutenant Fraiser.' It hardly mattered. Either way, he was a distraction.

"I've got a problem and no solution, yet," she replied, mentally adding another variable to the list of things fouling the data; interference caused by lingering traces of the other dimension.

She heard him move around behind her, but Unaurie still didn't look up: she was trying to factor in variances due to quantum flux from the alien dimension. She felt Daniel Fraiser's strong, yet all too frail, human hands rubbing her neck and shoulders. Ah, the mistakes of youth, Unaurie remembered fondly. She knew this memory, too well. It happened during a particularly long and lonely night working on one of the early Temporal Steam Engine prototypes.

"This is inappropriate, Daniel," she stated, only half heartedly shrugging off his hands. The strong hands massaging her shoulders felt better than she remembered.

Fraiser leaned close to her ear. "What harm can it do, Una?" he asked, his breath warm and his lips brushing gently against the lobe of her ear. "The problem will still be there later. You need a little relaxation."

The Deltan woman laughed warmly. "It's never just a little relaxation with you. You always want to swim in dangerous waters."

Oh, yes. She remembered this particular memory quite well. "Computer, lock door for privacy. Turn on the particulate filtration system for this room to remove all airborne particles that are not part of the normal atmospheric make up of the ship's atmosphere, protocol Delta One."

Daniel Fraiser laughed. "You're such a worrier. You won't break me. No harm, no foul. Well, maybe just a little harm" he teased, "but no foul, so what's the problem? You'll think more clearly if you take a little break."

The computer acknowledged the command.

Unaurie pushed the readouts aside. "Maybe you're right, Daniel. I could use just a little break." She closed her eyes to the rest of the world and let herself relax under Daniel Fraiser's strong fingers.

Outside the locked room, if anyone suspected anything, they kept it to themselves. The only telltale sound that might have given anything away were the atmosphere recyclers: they hummed just little louder as it worked at peak efficiency to keep the air throughout the ship clear of Deltan pheromones. Not a single molecule slipped through the system.

“Roomies, Memories, and Bad Boys”

Naranda & Branwen

Nara’s & Bran’s Quarters: Common Area

Nara walked in and plopped on the couch crossing her arms agitated. She had found Engineering, with Kastanza behind her staring. The nerve of that man. He should just concentrate on his work and leave her alone. Now she was home and she could try to relax.

Branwen had just come home from her own shift. As she was exhausted, still sleeping badly. For the first time in a few years she was thinking about home again a lot. Yet she managed a smile when her roommate came in.

"You look like you have had a rough day."

"Kastanza." Nara growled. She looked over at Bran and softened her tone, "How about you?"

"Just a lot of work." Branwen said evasively. "Is he still after you? The idiot cannot take a hint."

Nara laughed, "Maybe I can get Abaddon to take care of him for me. He'd scare Kastanza's thing right off."

Branwen giggled. "And if that doesn't work, I will beat him up for you."

Nara smiled, "Me and you both. I'm sure a few other ladies will be willing to go at him. I think he hits on every female crewmember, even if they are into other females." Nara shrugged, "Heck, I think he'd even try to turn them..." Nara laughed, "Or turns a neuter into a female."

Nara pleasured in the Kastanza bashing, but looked at Branwen with concern. "That's the typical response. There's always a lot of work, but something is making you weary."

Darned genes from her mom. She was not at all interested in being a counselor, but stupid intuition was there. Even before the telepathy awakened, she couldn't let someone get by with saying that they're fine when they obviously weren't.

"I just want to warn you, if I have nightmares tonight just wake me and I'll go somewhere else. I should be fine, just my memories playing up because of what happened." She shrugged not wanting to make a big problem out of it.

"If you have nightmares, I'll come comfort you, unless you'd prefer to be left alone. But I will not boot you out." Nara said firmly with concern.

"Thank you." Branwen said softly. "The last few days have been stressful. It will pass again, yet it may take some time."

Nara nodded, "Everything does." She smiled reassuredly at her room mate.

"Yes. In any case and made a new friend out of Dr Ti. Unfortunately my other savior is not real. I wish he was." She smiled at her roommate.

Nara sat up, turning and bending her leg to put it on the couch. She looked at Bran confused, "Explain?"

"When I was little I made up an imaginary friend, I imagined he was one of King Arthur's knights, sir Gawain. He was my dream again, he is so handsome. Nara I wish he could be real."

Nara smiled, "I never did ask what happened when we were all jumping around memories."

"I went back home as a child, it was not a pleasant experience." Branwen's face fell. "I hope you had more luck."

Nara shook her head, "It was like my life flashed before my eyes, except not in order. Also visited other people's memories, and they visited mine." Nara listed off the people she encountered, "Saul, Miramon, North, and then Klaus. Klaus seemed to have the worst of it." Nara frowned hoping he was with his wife now and she could somehow comfort him.

"The CMO, I met him. He seemed pretty shaken, and he promised me to see a shrink."

Nara nodded, "Good." She sighed, "I also need to see Saul. Have some questions." She was talking out loud really. She looked back up at Bran, "Why was your childhood unpleasant?"

"Extremely. I ran away from home when I was fourteen. And then lived with my sister. She also ran away as a child." She looked at the ground.

Nara was curious to know more, but wasn't sure Bran was ready to share, so she changed the subject, "Got any plans tonight?"

"Not yet." In fact she didn't socialize much yet. Although she had made a few friends already.

Nara thought a moment. She wanted to get back to routine. Nara stood, "I'm going to the holodeck and then to ten forward. If I'm not back by tomorrow, assume I went back to an alternate dimension." Before she walked through the door she smiled turning, "Or killed Kastanza and got thrown in the brig." She laughed, not meaning at all what she said.

"Have fun. And I will come looking for you if you are not back home by midnight." Bran smiled.

"The Knight in the shiny armour"

2nd. Lieutenant Branwen London

Ensign Saul Bental

"I will do it upon arrival to the planet."

That single sentence, sent to a dummy address using an encryption code, was the last in a series of messages Saul worked on for the last two hours.

Between solidifying the new secondary intelligence unit, going on report of ships with unique warp signature in the vicinity, sending instructions to those who took care of his various possessions and trying to find the best way to disarm the 'Nara affair' (Which was the subject of that last message), Saul could not find a single free moment ever since the entire Galaxy crew found themselves in that alien forest clearing, and then back in 'reality'.

Nevertheless, free time or not, there was one debt he was going to pay, and did so gladly.

He left his new office, heading outside the Galaxy's Intel. center. On his way, he stopped by the Intel. center's replicator, and ordered the computer to replicate him a bouquet of flowers found on Welsh, Earth.

If he was supposed to be a knight from a lady's dream, the least he could do was to act like a gentleman, no?

Ignoring the amused glance from Chief C'hitah, Saul continued to pace in the general direction of the quarters of one, 2nd. Lieutenant Branwen London.

* * * *

Branwen had slept badly again, thinking back to her childhood. Her horrible childhood. In fact she was still daydreaming, so happy when the knock on her door came.

Upon opening she gasped and then smiled. Was she still dreaming? If so, then it was a happy dream. It always was with him in it.

"Sir Gawain." She whispered.

"In the flesh, minus the shiny armor." Saul said with a smile, offering her the flowers.

"They are beautiful, daffodils from home." She smiled brightly at him. "How can you be real?"

"My actual name is Saul Bental, and I am an Intelligence officer..." He said, still standing at the door, "I promised I'll see you after the whole dreams thing is over, and well... a knight doesn't break his promises."

"Yet you came in my dreams as a child. I have been in love you all my life." She blushed brightly. "How can you be a Starfleet officer?"

It was Saul's turn to blush. Despite all the 'hardy merchant' charade, and despite having his empathy eroded by twenty four uneasy years, the marine's confession still moved something in him. When he spoke up again, he did it in a very soft and gentle tone.

"From what I gathered after we all returned to the 'real world', an alien species somehow managed to penetrate our sub-conscious, our dreams, and mixed them. After being in your dream, I found myself in the dream of a Deltan engineer at some science conference, then in the memory of a Science officer who lost a father-figure during a bar-fight... in most of the dreams, I portrayed the role of one of the main characters in that dream. In your case, it was Sir Gawain."

He paused, his eyes dancing on the walls of her room, unconsciously comparing it to the rooms of her home on Welsh. "So, after our... common experience, I couldn't leave it behind. I had to come and see you, ummm... I don't know why really. But here I am..."

She blushed even deeper. "Maybe you were drawn to me. Maybe you will and I are meant to be together somehow. It could be an act of God."

The witty Intelligence officer, who always had a smart-ass response hiding in his sleeve, didn't really know how to answer that one. He stepped into the room, the door closing behind him, and looked at Branwen. He suddenly realized it was the first time he saw her fully grown.

'Is there a single ugly woman on this ship?', he contemplated inwardly, noticing for the first time how beautiful she was. Two intense yet innocent-looking brown eyes met his gaze, and there was a single loose strand of dark hair on her forehead which just called for him to reach out and brush aside.

Then, her words finally sunk in. Especially that last line.

"I believe... that each person hold his own 'destiny' in his hands. So I wouldn't call it 'an act of god', but perhaps... there is something... different. I don't know, it would help to understand why we encountered the people we did during the dreams, and not other people. For example, why Tizarin was there..."

Saul felt how he stumbled on his own words, and it wasn't the first time. He recalled experiencing the same problem with Dhani, and even with Tizarin herself. With Nara, it was different, but Nara was different in ways he still wasn't able to fully understand.

"So I suppose that's why I came, perhaps. To find out who you really are, Branwen. And... perhaps to apologize for violating what must have been a very private memory. Mind if I sit down?"

"Not at all." Branwen had been in love with her knight all her life. And it was difficult to see him as anything else. He was so beautiful, so perfect, so nice. "And you did not violate anything, without you I could not have faced it. Not again after all these years." She swallowed back emotions.

Bran still had not had her hand treated. Saul noticed that as well. Without thinking, he took her hand with his and examined the finger.

"I didn't know the dream had physical implications.", he said sternly. Then, he reflected on his encounter with 8-Ball. If he and 8-Ball would have failed in preventing the brawl from starting and changing its consequences, would he be dead now?

"Apparently. My finger was still broken when we got back. I can count myself very lucky it was a memory in which my father was pretty lenient and only broke my finger and gave me a few lashings on my back."

"I wouldn't call any of it 'lucky'... no child deserves such a treatment. And the finger - you should take care of it." Saul said, his gaze moving up from her finger to her face, stalling on her chest for a moment almost too long to be appropriate. Half of his mind told him to take his feet and leave, the other half to brush that strand aside already. And then there was

something else, a flash of a memory. Himself, standing outside Nara's house on Sakaria, leaning on a tree while she and someone else were inside it.

"I might.I know Ti is wonderful and I trust her, I just have to get the courage to go there. This memory brought all my bad experiences with doctors back." She smiled shyly. "You must think me a coward."

"Someone once told me 'Don't rush to judge people before you were in their shoes.'. However, that's a fear you'll have to overcome while you're on the Galaxy. This ship is very generous when it comes to causing injuries to its crew."

He chuckled. That chuckle sounded very pathetic in his ears. This was a serious issue for her, not something easy!

"I don't believe I'm suggesting this myself, being someone who would rather do a double shift at waste-extraction than to have session with a counselor... but maybe you should go and talk to a counselor about that fear. Perhaps they'll have a better advice about it than 'Just do it'."

She giggled. "How about I promise to mention it to the marine shrink."

"You're a marine, then?" Saul inquired, genuinely surprised. The woman looked too naive, too fragile... no, not completely fragile. On a closer inspection, Saul could see that beneath the tracksuit she had quite an athletic body. Still, she was nowhere near the SF Marine stereotype.

"I am sorry." She giggled again. "2nd Lt London, Marine staff psychologist. Just out of the academy. Do you still like me now?"Bran teased.

Saul's mouth gaped.

"Ummm... ehhhh... I apologize for the 'waste-extraction' comment, errr... of course I still like you.", he chuckled nervously. "And I did tell you that you don't need me to keep yourself safe..."

"I have embarrassed you." She looked at the ground. "Now we come to the point where you tell me you have to leave or something and I will not see you again."

"Actually no." Saul gathered some courage, and the balance in his mind shifted toward staying. "Now comes the point where I tell you that you're one funny lady."

"Funny, me?" Branwen said laughing. "That is something I don't hear very often."

"Happens. So... what happened after I left you and Tizarin? I mean, Dr. Ti?"

"Lady Ti." She corrected him with a smile. Then she began to tell him their adventure. "And after that, I ended up in my bosses dream, very strange. What happened to you?"

"Too much to tell. I followed the road and found myself in the memories of other crewmembers. I hoped that the road will lead me to you two lovely ladies again, but in the end I found myself at the alien clearing like everyone else..."

"You didn't experience painful memories of your own?" She asked concerned, coming closer towards him. Somehow the thought of him in pain made her very sad.

"I... no, only one intense memory at the end, of me leaving my homeworld."

Saul couldn't bring himself to call Utrecht III home. He also couldn't admit that the memory of him sneaking into that freighter was painful for him, especially because of the final conversation - which did not take place in reality.

He also couldn't admit that he found himself more and more drawn to Branwen.

The gentle fragrance of her shampoo penetrated his nostrils, and once again he found two big, deep brown eyes staring at him. This time, he surrendered and shifted that stray strand of hair aside, his fingers brushing against her forehead.

Gently she touched his hand, with a featherlight touch she traced his fingers, while her eyes searching his. "My knight in shining armour." Branwen whispered. Usually she was very shy around men, yet with him it was as if she had known him for years.

Saul was torn. Every fiber of his body shouted at him to hold that slender, awaiting body. To just let go of everything, and let her affection and his attraction to lead them on.

Yet he knew it would be taking advantage of her. If this was a business opportunity, Saul would pounce on the pray, and emerge with a generous profit. The problem with knights in shiny armor, however, that they're too chivalrous and protective.

"Branwen..." He said, patting her cheek before standing up. "Despite the dream, I am not really him. I never rode on a horse before the dream, and instead of saving lovely ladies from dragons and practicing my swordsmanship, I spent my childhood running around in the slums of some backwater planet. I feel like I'm misleading you."

"No you are not. You never lied to me not even in the dream. Maybe you are even better than Sir Gawain. I think I really like you. " she blushed again.

"I like you too, Branwen. You are..." Many words came through his mind, but he said none. He scratched the back of his head with embarrassment. "I'm running on a very tight schedule right now because all that has happened - I will probably pay for this visit with less sleep - but once things calm down, I would love to meet you, do... I don't know, whatever it is you like doing in your spare time. If after getting to know me you'll still hold that opinion... well."

"I will hold you to it." Gently she kissed him on the cheek. Startled by her own action, so she giggled nervously.

Saul patted the back of her head - just like he did back on the forest, when she was a child and not the stunning young woman who then stood there in front of him. For a second, he almost leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, but then he just saluted and dashed out of the room.

Only when he reached the turbolift, he realized that his cheeks were burning like a ruptured plasma conduit. Then, a face appeared before his eyes, and it wasn't Branwen's.

It was Naranda's.

"But I don't OWE her anything, I mean we're not really... she never said...", He said to no one in particular, then forced his mind to go back to work issues and to the interviews for Lily Squad scheduled for tomorrow.

Bran leaned against the wall after he had left. She was totally in love, unimaginable that her secret thought-up boyfriend happened to be real.

(NRPG/OOC : Way-Backpost, set shortly after Galaxy departs from SB212.)

"Music to Thine Ears"

By Ensign Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief

Lieutenant Michael Jamson, Operations Officer

Location: Ten-Forward Lounge

It was 1600 and Jamson just finished an intriguing course of Tellarite debating skills. Tellarites had a strange passion for debate and argument, and would never pass the opportunity to prove it. They would sometimes even argue against their own belief, just for the sake of enjoyment. All that senseless debating was not too weird for the headstrong Klingon 'imitator '. Michael himself was, at times, persistent...but unlike Tellarites, he would only stick to what he believed in. A debate could lead into a dispute, which could probably lead to anger, which could cause a fight, and what would be better than a good brawl, to prove the winner was right? Klingon justice and way of life.

Jamson was onboard only for a couple of days, and already was in charge of gamma shift in his own department. While despising gamma shift, since it was the shift for junior officers, he did adore the hours. The bridge was 'quiet', not too many crew members pestering him around or a long list of tasks to perform. He would never admit it, and would kill anyone who claimed it, but at certain times, he enjoyed being a junior officer, not having all that responsibility and duties. Furthermore, during the years since his last demotion, he tried to keep himself away from the important work and chain of command. He was ashamed of his career, and therefore, he chose to become invisible.

Jamson still had plenty of time before his shift at 2100 hours, and even though it was a bit early for a drink, he decided to have one and take a nice short nap afterwards. The familiar doors of Ten Forward revealed the old mess hall, decorated for Christmas. Except for some minor details which probably came with the last renovation, it was just as he remembered. Taking a sit on the bar, he planned to get his drink and then move back to one of the tables in the corner, right next to windows viewing the stars.

"What would it be?" the Bolian bar keep asked.

Michael stared at the annoying Bolian; it wouldn't be too long before the blue creature would start a conversation. 'Of all the races in the universe, why most of the bartenders and bar keeps on starships had to be Bolians...' he thought to himself and unwillingly said "Give me...a Klingon Chech'tluth".

The Bolian giggled "Isn't that a bit too strong for this time of day? How about a Raktajino? Or even a nice Klingon Disruptor?"

The only disruptor Jamson was able to think of, was the one stuffed into that irritating Bolian's mouth "Chech'tluth, no schnapps".

"One Chech'tluth coming up" The Bolian wiped the smile off his face.

Glancing around, Michael noticed a woman playing the piano. It seemed like she was just rehearsing, but still sounded pretty well.

"She plays the piano rather nice, doesn't she?" The comment came from a Bajoran woman sitting nearby, who had obviously been observing him as much as the pianist.

"One Chech'tluth Sir." The Bolian brought Jamson his drink.

"Yes, she does," Michael replied to the woman and nodded to the Bolian.

Turning more towards Michael, the woman quickly adjusted her attire, a subdued blue and grey robe which bore a superficial resemblance to Vulcan attire but without all the superfluous fabric. "That's Erin,” she began. “She's the Manager of Ten Forward and quite a singer too. Pity she’s stuck on this boat, entertaining a group of mostly uninterested officers."

Jamson smirked, he was amused by the comment, and that was extremely rare. Realizing he was sort of smiling, he wiped the smirk of his face and extended his hand "Michael Jamson".

Iniara took his hand. "I’m Iniara,” she replied, for the moment omitting her surname.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I'm new?" Jamson took a sip from his drink.

"Not really...I don't know you, and that means you're new, so why bother?" She said sarcastically.

Jamson almost burst into laughter. "Damn Bolian!" He muttered, "I said I wanted a Chech'tluth, not a Cardassian kanar!"

Iniara half-snorted, wondering if he noticed the bridges on her nose when he said that. "You should try a Bajoran steamed Rum Punch".

Jamson now saw she was a Bajoran and asked with interest, "What's in it?" He had some thoughts on Cardassians he wanted to share her with, but not all Bajorans reacted well to topics revolving Cardassians. Bloody spoon heads, they cost him his command! He lost everything he had achieved and worked for, because of the Cardassian dogs. They had no honor, they were worse than the Romulans, a race dedicated to deceit. He lost his second ship, the Cherokee, to the Cardassians prevaricators, and was demoted to lieutenant after a good quarrel with some of them which turned into a marvelous fight back on Starbase 133.

"Bajoran Rum, Atraxian Vodka, Risan Passoa and Kahlua, oh and some sparkling water" she replied.

"Sounds similar to a Commander's Grade. Very relaxing..." He sipped his entire drink and closed his eyes. "Let me guess...Security?" he said while his eyes were still shut. Her sarcasm and behaviour signaled him she was related to the military in a certain way, and as a Bajoran, she was probably a member of the Resistance during the Occupation, even though she appeared to be younger.

"In the past...yes, but now, aside from this attire, I choose gold like my department. Or rather, I should say it chose me," Iniara continued, the memory of her demotion briefly passing through her mind.

"Engineering?" He asked again and waved to the Bolian.

"You should know better," she insinuated.

"Operations?" Jamson froze. "Iniara....Tarin Iniara?" How foolish of him, she was Curtis' deputy. "You're the Assistant Chief of Operations?"

She nodded slowly. "That would be me. Ensign Tarin Iniara, at your service".

"What would it be, Sir?" The Bolian interrupted again.

"Give me...a Bajoran steamed Rum Punch" He glanced to Tarin and immediately added, "Make it two."

“Barely aboard, and already well on your way to being a certified barfly,” Iniara chuckled before turning back to the bar. “So, you’re new. What brings you to this little boat of ours, anyway? Fame, fortune, lucky assignment…unfortunate transfer?”

Jamson smirked again, this was highly unusual. "Let's see...I've attained my 'fame and fortune' years ago. As for luck, never believed in it. What's left? Unfortunate transfer? Actually, I asked for this one. I've been assigned to this old boat several times in my life, and it looks like I can't let go, like a Klingon Grishnar cat".

This time the Bolian refrained from interfering with the conversation and just placed the drinks next to Iniara and Jamson.

Iniara took a long drink from her glass. She had no idea what a Grishnar cat was, but her mind seemed content to brainstorm a few possibilities. Suddenly she had a mental image of a tiny domesticated cat hanging on to something for dear life, and couldn't help but laugh to herself. Although she hardly knew anything about her companion save his name, the analogy seemed sad in a way. But there was little sense dwelling on it now.

"So, you've been on the Galaxy before," she continued before the silence stretched on too long. "Has anything notable changed since you first served aboard her?"

Jamson played around with his drink "Well...the ship seems much larger, I miss the old Galaxy class. There's a different captain. So many crew members, young crew members which I don't know. I miss the old ones...but essentially, the feeling hasn't changed, it's the good old Galaxy, and I can still feel it's one of only places in universe I can call home." The new thrilling look of the Galaxy-A along with the new systems and technologies didn't excite Michael one bit. He was a lone wolf, but even a wolf had friends, and he left them all in his past.

"Do you ever-" Jamson was interrupted by his communicator badge. It wasn't visible, since he wasn't on duty, but still he kept it in one of his pockets. ["Ensign M'rek to Jamson. May I remind you that you have a counseling session with Commander Dallas in less than 5 minutes, sir?"]

"Vulcans..." Jamson grumbled. Counseling sessions were a must for the decommissioned officer. He had to undertake therapy sessions on each and every ship and station he was assigned to since his 'incidents'. "On my way."

Iniara smiled softly. “Never understood why some Vulcans choose to become counselors. To each his own, I suppose.”

"Passionless creatures...not as worse as doctors, but nothing beats a condoling counselor!" He stated. His love for certain species, doctors and especially counselors was well known across the Milky Way. He used to change counselors like socks, since no one was up for the challenge. The only one who up for it, was Karyn Dallas, and the only one who truly helped him, was the legendary counselor Shivok. He respected both of them dearly.

"Please excuse me; I have to confront a ghost from the past." He rose from his chair. He missed Karyn and their sessions, it was a game to him in a way, to see who shall prevail their joint sessions. "Maybe we could continue our conversation in another time?" he asked Iniara.

“Definitely. Sounds like you have an interesting afternoon ahead of you; don’t let me keep you from it. I’ll see you around.” Iniara waved as Jamson departed, then continued on with her drink.

"Weirded Out - Part II"

Ensign Paulo DiMillo, Intelligence Officer

IC: Paulo walked down the corridor heading towards his quarters. One of the few benefits of being an ex-con was that no one wanted to room with him. Luckily OPS was able to set something up where he had a smaller room to himself. He liked the privacy that it offered, but it did isolate him more then he had ever been before.

He walked over to his replicator and ordered a small dinner and headed to his desk which doubles as his table most of the time. He pulled up the files relating to the Havras system. Cora had pulled a ton a strings and even some arms to get his clearance to a level he could be effective. He nibbled on a piece of bread as he read over the reports made by Captain Elaithin Jii of the USS Miranda. It was a dry read as all reports by starship COs where. Talked about what happened just prier to the incident as well as shortly after the USS Relentless and her task force had showed up to save both the Galaxy and Miranda.

He had already gone over the reports made by Captain's M'Kantu and Therrien. For something such as this to happened was huge and it had the whole Intel field wild with rumors and speculation. It was hard to find the truth in it all, but that is why he was an Intelligence officer. He was there to find the truth out and to report it to the people who needed to know it.

While he sat there his mind started to wander and he found himself again in what seemed to be his own past. He looked around and found himself back at the penal colony working on some power inverter that had blown. "Hand me that spanner," Paulo asked the young male sitting next to him. The guy next to him just went by Tom and was here for some theft of something. He didn't talk about it much, but he was always eager to learn something new so Paulo had taken it upon himself to teach the young man whatever he could, including how to repair a Starfleet standard power inverter.

"And that is all you have to do?" Tom asked.

"Thank is all you have to do. Sometimes I think that Starfleet got a bad deal with these power inverters, they never seem to work right. Luckily I remember a few tricks my basic engineering professor taught me back at the academy.

"I wanted to join Starfleet when I was younger," Tom started. "That is all I wanted, I wanted to go out among the stars and explore. I wanted to meat new people. I wanted to learn, but then in high school I got into a bad group, and now I am here. I guess that my dream is lost forever."

Paulo had heard the story a hundred times, and Paulo replied the same way every time. "Your dream is only lost if you let it be. What you did was nothing compared to what I did, I am sure you can sign on as an enlisted man and if you can't there are plenty of private groups out there that you could join. Hell, you may even meet some alien race that the Federation has never encountered."

"Hopefully someone nicer then the Dominion."

"Agreed," Paulo replied as the two men stood up.

The power inverter was humming away again, and hopefully this time it you not crap out and die like it did after his last repair job. They walked along a path heading back to the main complex. Paulo would need to turn his tools in.

As they approached the the shed where Paulo needed to turn his tools in he noticed something wrong with the guard. He wasn't wearing a standard Starfleet uniform, for that matter the only thing that was even Starfleet about the man was the combadge he wore. The man looked familiar in a way. He was tall, much taller then Paulo was and skinner, much skinner. Almost like he was just skin and bones. He was pale with white hair and glowing red eyes. Then it hit Paulo and he felt the pain of his month of toucher all over again.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," Paulo yelled as he jumped out of his desk chair. He looked around and found himself in his quarters. "What the hell is going on," Paulo asked himself. "Am I loosing it?" He paused a second as he considered his own question. "Maybe some sleep will do me good," he decided deciding he had just been working to hard over the last few days. Anyway he had a meeting with Ensign Saul Bental in the morning.

After cleaning up some Paulo climbed into bed hoping for a dreamless nights sleep.

"Part Of The Whole"

BACKPOST - The night before the warp stress tests.

Commander Cass Henderson, Executive Officer

2nd Lieutenant Branwen London, Staff Psychologist: Marine Unit

****

Cargo Bay,
Deck 4,
USS Galaxy-A

Cass Henderson realied that he'd had a very full day.  It had started out simple, with him piloting the shuttle in to dock with the Galaxy.  However, it had rapidly overcomplicated itself, as he'd had to deliver Major T'Riasau to Captain M'Kantu.  Then there'd been the conversation with Rima, which had been awkward and draining.  Once he'd been able to slip away from Pennington, he'd spent time securing the cloaking device.

All of which left him very hungry.  Somewhere in there, he'd missed lunch. Thankfully he hadn't gotten the time to pick up Lysander, whose custody was now open to debate, from the couple who'd taken care of him during Cass' quest to find his erstwhile owner, so at least the cat wasn't hungry.

Left on his agenda for the day were only two things.  He needed to do some digging around with his old contacts and find out exactly who Major Sharien T'Riasau was.  He also needed to follow up on some sort of crew quarters reshuffle that he'd heard about from Ops.  From what Lieutenant Tarin had been able to tell him, it involved people not wanting to room with a marine, 2nd Lieutenant London.

"Henderson to London," he said, tapping his commbadge.  He grinned at the irony of a man of almost entirely British background having said what he just had, then changed directions.  He was now bound for Ten Forward, dinner, and some sort of resolution of whatever was going on with the junior officers. "Could you meet me in Ten Forward in fifteen minutes, Miss London?"

"Yes sir." She returned in a very thick Welsh accent. Bran was a little startled that such a senior officer was interrested in her. Couldn't be good. She had spotted his english accent straight away. Bran had been raised to hate aliens and englishmen and it was hard to banish her upbringing.

****

Ten Forward,
Deck 10,
USS Galaxy-A

Exactly fifteen minutes later she entered Ten Forward. It took her a few seconds to pick out the XO and she walked towards his table and came to attention. "2nd Leftenant London reporting as ordered, sir!" She tried not to sound too nervous.

"At ease, Miss London," Cass said, offering her the seat across from him with a gesture.  She was certainly a Marine.  It never failed to cause wonder at the extreme discipline that the SFMC worked under.  His recent experiences with T'Shani and Red Division had given him a little taste of it.  "Would you like something to drink or eat?"

"Some tea please, sir."  She said as she sat down, totally not at ease. Even though her own sister was an Executive Officer in the Navy, she herself had been trained thoroughly as a marine.  And you didn't drink tea casually with a Commander.

When the server had brought their orders, he turned to Branwen, "I'm sure you're wondering why I wanted to talk to you, but before we get off on the wrong foot... Ahh, how to approach this.  I'm not totally unaware of cultural history.  But, I was born in space.  I've spent all of my life in space. Chances are, I'll meet an early end in space.  My family considers itself more Federation than English, and I have friends who grew up on Cardiff Bay."

"It's not your fault you are English, sir.  Most Welsh people have put the past behind them, just not the community I grew up in.  I was taught to hate all things English, even the castles on our soil built by King Edward."  She was amazed she had said so much.  A simple yes sir would have sufficed.

Cass sighed.  This wasn't exactly why he'd called her here, but he'd sooner not let it just drop.  "That's just the thing.  I'm not English, Miss London. And even if I were, it wouldn't matter.  We're talking about ancient history here. Welsh Independence, 2045, after the Eugenics Wars.  As for me, I was born on a starship, grew up in space, and had nothing to do with England.  My family have always been defenders of the Federation because we believe in things like equality and fellowship, the ideas the Federation was founded upon.  I've been there a grand total of five times, not counting my time at Starfleet Academy in London."

"I didn't mean anything, sir. I don't blame you, I was just saying I was raised that way, not that I still think that way myself."  She was very red in the face now.  Thinking she had annoyed the First Officer, very good start.

He nodded, "I wasn't suggesting that you were, Miss London.  I just wanted you to understand.  Try not to look so embarrassed.  Being who you are is nothing to be ashamed of.  On that note, I suppose we really should get back to the topic at hand...  It's been brought to my attention that you've been having some trouble with members of this crew.  Is that true?"

She blushed again.  "Most people have been very kind, sir.  I am already making friends."  If she got people into trouble they would hate her even more.  That she knew from experience, and besides marines didn't rat.

"That's not what I heard from Operations," he replied, then fixed her with his completely serious gaze.  He'd worked with Marines before, understood their motivations, cameraderie, and loyalties.  It was a long and proud tradition, but she needed to understand that he wasn't playing any games on this one. "Let me explain it to you this way: If we don't stop these problems now, then they're going to continue.  You can be assured, if they're because you're a marine, then they're going to continue.  Not only that, but they're going to happen to the rest of the SFMC Squad.  As the officer responsible for your team's mental health, can you in good conscience allow that to happen?"

Branwen was silent for a little while.  "No sir."  She then said.  "On the other hand, I understand people find me scary.  I am a marine and a shrink. Two things most naval personnel isn't fond of.  Honestly it's been a few stares in the hallway and one roommate who preferred somebody else.  I am a big girl sir.  I can take it." Yet there was some hurt in her eyes.

"Understandable.  I was never totally comfortable speaking at length with psychologists, but it's necessary.  Especially for high stress positions like the SFMC," Cass nodded and moved to stand, "Well, I suppose that's really all.    I'll be making a reminder to the department heads to brief their staff on the subject of being a unified crew.  I hope that prevents any further problems, but if it doesn't, don't hesistate to let me know."

"And for the record, you look like you've earned that bar to me.  You are a big girl, and I'll be interested to see the results of the SFMC Psychology Program's intial runs," he smiled, "You're blazing new trails, Miss London. Trails that need to be blazed.  I wish you the best of successes."

She blushed with happiness. "thank you sir, it means a lot to me that you support me." Branwen came to her feet.  "If you would excuse me now, I have to go back to work."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant," Henderson replied, "And good day."

"The Search For Reality"

Commander Cassius Henderson, Executive Officer
Commander Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor/Second Officer
Lieutenant Jeremy Savoie,
Chief Flight Controller
Lieutenant Abaddon, Chief Tactical Officer
Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin, Chief of Astrophysics
Lieutenant JG Tarin Iniara, Chief Operations Manager

****

Main Bridge,
Deck 1,
USS Galaxy-A

[Number One, begin long-range scans of the area. Search for a ship in distress or emitting inconsistent or troublesome warp signatures. Set course for it immediately.] Cassius Henderson watched Captain M'Kantu on the main viewscreen, issuing orders from Main Engineering. Behind him, Cass could just make out Lieutenant O'Shea shaking her head.

Suddenly, Cassius was in Tactical Analysis, lying underneath a computer terminal with a multitool in his hand... Until he realized that the hand was too feminine to be his own. He dropped the tool in utter shock, but wasn't able to investigate further before finding himself back on the main bridge, standing next to the command chair.

"Sir?" Cass said, slightly disoriented by the sudden shift of reality, "What just happened?" He glanced around at the members of the senior staff stationed on the bridge. Similar looks of confusion played across most of their faces.

[I'm not quite sure, Mr. Henderson, but let us hope we find that vessel and repair this space. Call a senior staff meeting immediately upon detecting the target.]

"Aye, sir," Henderson nodded, and the screen switched back to the starfield, M'Kantu having cut the transmission from his end. Turning to focus on the science station, Cass addressed the winged alien manning it. "Lieutenant Kara'nin, begin long range scans. Lieutenant Tarin, coordinate with him and boost power to the sensors. Mr. Abaddon, yellow alert, all hands to stations."

Iniara acknowledged the order with a brief nod, beginning to execute the necessary steps before the First Officer had finished speaking.

Cutter did not acknowledge Henderson. He was lost. He was on the bridge, where he was before, he remembered, but it seemed so long ago.  He thought, just  a moment ago, he was on a beach, yet here he was.  His eneviornment struck him then, the order from the first officer pushing him out of his daze. Slowly, his hands moved over the control panel, clearing the sensors and initiating the scans.

More or less in his own world, Jeremy had been dedicating enough brain capacity to keep the ship on course while the rest of his mind replayed the time on the holodeck earlier with Grey. She was an unpredictable one. He looked up at the image of the captain on the viewscreen for a moment, then blinked. The image changed...

"You are so beautiful," a tall naked man now standing in front of him said. The man smiled, then leaned in to kiss him...

"What the . . . ?" Jeremy said, shaking his head as if to snap out of a narcoleptic moment and rid his memory of rather distasteful experience at the same time. The next thing he knew, he was hearing the yellow alert claxon sounding all around.

"Mr. Savioe, are you alright?" Cass asked the helmsman, then turned back to sciences chief, "Keep me appraised of your sensor scans.  Anything they turn up, report."

"Uh . . . Fine, sir," Jeremy answered in a somewhat less than convincing tone.  ::Stay focused:: he told himself.  "Navigation control ready to accept coordinates from long-range sensor scans.  We'll be ready to go as soon as we find something."

"Deep breaths everyone," advised Karyn who herself looked green around the gills.  "I know it's going to sound silly, but try to remind yourself where you are by thinking about the sensations that keep you in the present...the yellow flashes, the beeps of the monitors, the feel of the console beneath your fingers and the carpet beneath your feet.  Hang onto these thoughts as best as you can so if you do get pulled into someone else's memory, you can physically ground yourself in the present."

"Counselor," Abaddon turned in her direction, "after a single event in which I relived.. ancient.. memories of my own, I have adapted to this psychic phenomena. I have not experienced anyone else's memories nor have I experienced any trans-conscious episodes. We may be able to harvest the adaptive data from my armor's nano-processors and see if there is anything there that we can use to combat the effects."

"Mr. Abaddon, Counselor Dallas.  Call replacements for yourselves and go explore that option.  Until they arrive, concentrate," Cass replied, trying to bring his command team to focus.  They were all unnerved, but they couldn't allow themselves to be distracted by navel gazing or thoughts, "Let's focus on the task. Sciences, how are the scans coming?"

It took a few more moments, but the Fruna'lin at the Sciences console eventually located what he thought was the inconsistent warp signal from the out of control freighter.

"Mr. Savoie, give me the best possible speed to the location that Lieutenant Kara'nin is sending to your station," the executive officer ordered, "As soon as you're ready, take us there, best possible speed. When we arrive, I want you to bring us parallel to the freighter and match speed."

Jeremy focused carefully on Henderson's words, following Counselor Dallas' advice to hold on to whatever immediate sensory perceptions he could.  "Aye, sir.  Coordinates received, course laid in.  Engaging engines at warp nine."

Silently Iniara worked at her console, transferring power to the engines in order to keep up with the increased speed.  She rechecked power to the sensors once they were underway, ensuring they would be at maximum range should the ship encounter any anomalies.

And then she was on her back.  Funny how she had such a talent for falling out of her chair at the worst times, even when things weren't falling to pieces or exploding in her face.  Her eyes focused on the starfighter that was occupying most of her view, its silver underbelly not more than a foot above her.  Slowly she reached up a hand, and was not overly surprised when she discovered it was blue.  Experimentally she touched the fighter's exposed access panel.

"Ow!"  Something sparked and she jerked her hand back in time to see a glossy drop of indigo blood appear on one finger.  Reflexively she stuck the finger in her mouth.  The blood tasted so real, but it wasn't hers; it couldn't be hers.  Whose perceptions were these?

It took them only a few minutes to cross the few light years that seperated them and the freighter. When they arrived and pulled alongside, the crew were faced with an image that they had not expected.

Within the freighter's warp bubble, the Antares-Class ship stretched and compressed, completely out of touch with the laws of physics.

Henderson grimaced, and called the senior staff meeting.

"Hotspot" - Part I

By
Captain Daren M'Kantu, Commanding Officer
Commander Cassius Henderson, Executive Officer
Commander Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor
Lt. Commander James Corgan, Chief of Security
Lieutenant Corran Rex, Commander: Vanguard Squadron
Lieutenant Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Jeremy Savoie, Chief Helmsman
Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin, Chief of Astronomy and Physics
Lieutenant Doctor Klaus Fienberg, Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Abaddon, Chief Tactical Officer
Lieutenant JG Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief
Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
1st Lieutenant Autumn Hayes, Commander: Furies
Attaché Nyssa Alverez, First Contact Officer, Hazard Team Member

******************* Deck 1 Conference Lounge 1 *******************

Somewhere out off the starboard region of space adjacent to the Galaxy, there hung an object that was both elongating and condensing within its warp bubble. The Galaxy had taken up a parallel position to the drifting freighter that was an ever increasing danger to the sector of space and the realm which lay in dimensional overlay upon it. While awaiting the arrival of the senior staff, Daren had felt himself transition into at least three individuals indiscriminately and thankfully for short lengths of time. "This is going to push the crew to their limits, Number One. It is paramount we resolve this as quickly as possible. That freighter out there is the key." He tapped his chin in thought. He was eyeing his Chief Science Officer in particular who was intently staring at the back of his six fingered hand.

Henderson looked up, startled out of another moment when his consciousness wasn't in his own body. He shook his head, forcing the last of the alien thoughts from his mind. The last experience, a memory, had been the strangest yet. "I agree, completely. I think I may have just been Crewman Kravakri from Security. We're going to need some way to manipulate that freighter."

Abaddon stepped away from his console and moved to the conference room, moving the short distance to the conference room he entered and took his seat. He made eye-contact with several of the other Chiefs, a bag of mixed results from the staff. The Captain, at least, reacted the same way.

Klaus entered, nervous. He had never been in the conference room before as a Department Chief.

Next came Lieutenant Commander James Corgan, the security chief. His skin more pale than usual, he shambled into the meeting room. One of the more experienced people in the senior staff, James was also the wildcard and the maverick. He held only weak allegiances to any of the other staff members, thereby putting James in the position of being one of the most impartial. However, his mind was wandering after he had seen what happened to T'lan, his Vulcan deputy. He had no insight into the memory swaps beyond 'it was bad, get rid of them!'.

"Sorry sir." James apologized for his tossed together appearance and lack of sleep, "There was trouble with one of my staff. She had to be sent to sickbay."

Brianna came into the conference lounge and settled down into her seat, quietly and quickly. She made eye contact with Captain M'Kantu, but never said anything. Her mind was else where, thinking of answers as she knew questions would soon come to her.

Lieutenant Corran Rex tugged on the sleeves of his jacket, looking as though it was taking him a great deal of effort to focus on what was in front of him. Without of a word of greeting to anyone - unusual for the fairly personable Trill, he took his seat at the table, and tried not get lost in a swarm of memories once again.

Likewise, Lieutenant Savoie took a seat next to the Trill without saying a word. Meetings were necessary evils; the less said before or during, the quicker they were over.

Lieutenant' Tarin was already sitting in what she assumed was the proper position for the Operations Chief, reviewing various things on a pair of PADDs she had laid out in front of her. As this was the first senior staff meeting in her career she had arrived only shortly after the Captain and his First Officer, doing her best to make a good impression. And although she would never admit it to anyone, she was feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing.

As each senior officer arrived she looked up, nodding briefly in greeting to each one before resuming her study.

1st Lieutenant Autumn Hayes entered the room and moved to stand by one of the observation windows, her back against the stars. The Furies commander had no idea why she would be considered part of the 'in' crowd; most likely she was about to volunteer for something.

Nyssa arrived feeling very much like a fish out of water, her brown eyes meeting everyone's in the room as she lowered her head in greeting and moved to the furthest seat away on the conference table. She remembered receiving the command to come to the conference room for a senior staff meeting, something that had at the time surprised the living hell out of her.

She sat down and looked up the table seeing the captain and many of the other senior officers, it was a power meeting. Like many of those she had been to when she taught at the academy, this time she realized that she was the last here.

Lieutenant Dobryin entered the briefing and took her seat. As usual she was keeping her eyes open for anything that would interest the Intelligence community. Her job was to ensure Galaxy and her crew didn't stumble into a situation unprepared.

Cass turned his attention to Dobryin briefly, as she entered the room. Their respective ties and allegiances made their relationship a strange one.

Thankfully, it had yet to be an issue, as they more or less worked for the same people. Right now, though, Cassius only wanted to bring the Galaxy through the present crisis, and return her to a stable situation.

Karyn made her way into the conference room literally focusing all her energy on one fixed point in front of her as she moved to fight off the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. As the Chief Counselor, Karyn had people deal with a fair number of flashbacks, but switching back and forth into other people's memories? It was beyond comprehension. Of course, Dallas herself might have been better prepared were she herself not involved. So far the only thing worse than finding herself looking at the world through a man's eyes (a very..."sexually eager" man's eyes) was actually experiencing life through the eyes of one who could walk, one who could seemingly bounce from sitting to standing in the time it took to blink. The worse part was not having any control, and not knowing what was to come next. Things other people took for granted (running, for example) literally made Karyn disoriented and motion sick.

The normally cheerful counselor took her place beside Commander Henderson right away, reminding herself just to take some deep breaths and hang on for the ride. It wasn't the kind of advice she was happy giving disoriented crewmembers, but until they knew more, it was the only advice she could give.

Abaddon noted her state through his sensor palette and offered, "Counselor, after a single event in which I relived.. ancient.. memories of my own, I have adapted to this psychic phenomena. I have not experienced anyone else's memories nor have I experienced any trans-conscious episodes. We may be able to harvest the adaptive data from my armor's nano-processors and see if there is anything there that we can use to combat the effects."

Dallas took a look around the room and not for the first time was struck by the number of fresh faces. Normally, Karyn would just shrug her shoulders and grin wryly. Change was a part of life. Today it just made her feel old.

As the Chiefs arrived, Daren took stock at the changes in the personnel since he took command almost two years previous. This would be the first for many of the individuals here.

He himself took up his position at the head of the table, leaning his elbows on the glossy surface and focusing on each one as they took their spots.

"So what do we have for facts on this region of space, the freighter, and what we have to expect? Sciences?"

Cutter Kara'nin's eyes were darting back and forth over the room, not looking at anything in particular, as if he was not sure where he was. Then, suddenly he took a deep breath, let it half out in a false start before beginning his lecture. "As you know, when we go to 'warp,' we create an artificial Cochran field that pushes us into subspace, a, um, blanket term for 'outside of this physical universe.' This effect is temporary and energy intensive, not self sustaining."

"That ship," Cutter said, his eyes lifting to the window, "has, in a way we do not understand nor can even theorize about, created a, um, a sort of inverse warp field. It has pulled some element of subspace here and now, that ship, and an ever increasing volume of our universe around it exist both here and there simultaneously. Physical laws are beginning to change: a simple experiment conducted before this meeting showed a 27% increase in the mass of the charm quark. As you can see visually, the effects are worse on that ship.

"Even more amazingly, the effect seems to be self sustaining," the Fruna'lin continued. "All the scans we have been able to run suggest that there is no power feeding into the field. What serves as their warp core is still active, but all the energy seems to be radiating away, both in our universe and into subspace. If we cannot find a way to cancel this inversion, this fissure, its likely to reach a critical mass of sorts, our universe will globally snap to these new laws and we will cease to be."

"Hotspot" Part II

By
Captain Daren M'Kantu, Commanding Officer
Commander Cassius Henderson, Executive Officer
Commander Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor
Lt. Commander James Corgan, Chief of Security
Lieutenant Corran Rex, Commander: Vanguard Squadron
Lieutenant Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Jeremy Savoie, Chief Helmsman
Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin, Chief of Astronomy and Physics
Lieutenant Doctor Klaus Fienberg, Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Abaddon, Chief Tactical Officer
Lieutenant JG Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief
Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
1st Lieutenant Autumn Hayes, Commander: Furies
Attaché Nyssa Alverez, First Contact Officer, Hazard Team Member

******************* Deck 1 Conference Lounge 1 *******************

"Is it possible to dock with the freighter in some form? Can we beam off the crew before this inversion kills them?"

Anna looked toward the captain. "I would advise against getting any closer then we already are Captain. The closer we get the greater the chance we ourselves will get stuck within their warp bubble. As for transporting them off, the only way that would be an option is if we can get some pattern enhancers over to the freighter. The way the ship is elongating and condensing within its warp bubble would make it impossible to get a transporter lock without pattern enhancers." Brianna stated.

"And if the subspace fields around it are that unstable," Savoie interjected, "precision maneuvers under those conditions would be next to impossible, especially with a ship as big as the Galaxy."

"Dr. Fienberg," M'Kantu cocked his head in the general direction of the new CMO, "What is the situation on the random memory and perception switching?"

Dr. Fienberg was still shaken by his own experiences. "Unknown, sir. All instances have happened at random during sleep... and there appears to be no neurological damage to any crew members I've tested, although there appears to be a slight change in different chemicals throughout the brain, mostly in the hypothalamus, and the sensory centers. It would appear that this is some sort of random side effect. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find a way to normalize everything permanently. I fear that if we don't find a way from 'them' to stop it, the change may be permanent, and will continue and possibly worsen."

"Not all, Doctor." Corran said quietly. "I may be the only one, but it's happened to me more than a few times while I was awake. Granted, I seem to be getting the memories just out of my own head."

Karyn shuddered. She feared even if the neurological effects weren't immediately devastating, the psychological impact was severe enough to debilitate the crew. She saw no reason to reveal that little happy gem immediately, however.

"Sirs, sorry to interrupt." James intervened, but dared to ask, "Is there a way to suppress or slow down the process? Lieutenant T'lan is in sickbay due to my recollection of Sector 001..." James halted in mid-sentence. The memories inadvertently placed in T'lan from James mind already sent his heart racing and his voice rasping. "I know that Vulcans are a mentally resilient species, but when a trauma hits them it hits them hard. This memory swapping may have some undue side effects, especially on psionically gifted alien species, as I have described with my Lieutenant. Anything would be helpful."

"I can personally confirm these side effects," Iniara interjected quietly. All day she had been hopping in and out of others' minds, and some of her experiences definitely did not bear repeating. Only now, with a great deal of concentration and tightening of her mental shields, was she able to focus long enough to make it through the meeting. "I'm currently at a loss for a solution, though."

It would seem," Karyn replied, "that no matter what we do to get ourselves out of this mess, we're going to need a better way to cope with this 'memory swapping' to guard against further neurological and psychological damage. I teach all my clients who experience trauma related flashbacks to use a technique known as 'grounding' to keep them aware of the present. I'm not sure how effective it will be given the sophistication of what we're up against, but it's worth a shot while medical works out a solution."

The situation was grim, indeed. The beings that requested the Galaxy crew's assistance in terminating the ills of the freighter had likely not foreseen the impediments of random psychological shifts they were all experiencing. They would need to tread carefully to complete this quest. Any errors in judgment could cost lives Daren was not willing to spend. His mind drifted back to his ex-wife's visage in the alternate dimension, as her face contorted in the wash of blood-tinted energy that devoured her lifeforce.

"Well, it would appear we are caught between a rock and a hard place, as the Terran saying goes. Thoughts? Ideas? Let's have it."

"We may be able to disrupt their warp bubble with a subspace pulse from the main deflector," Abaddon proposed, speaking up. "Normally I'd suggest a low yield quantum torpedo with a properly modulated subspace eruption but between our proximity and the desire to recover the crew, it has the least-probable chance of success with minimal loss of life."

"Loss of life isn't an option. This needs to be bloodless, and efficient. Wouldn't disrupting the warp field without due simulation of the effects generate a possibility of wearing or destroying the fabric of space between their dimension and ours? Anyone?"

James came up with a suggestion. "Transporter beacons, fitted to class three probes, and attuned to a narrow band subspace frequency, where the warp field is least likely to be distorted. The probes will have to be placed at exactly eighty three point nine four meters away from the ship, in an elliptical pattern. The number of probes needed will depend on the size of the vessel."

Using small tokens, drink glasses, a PADD and padd stylus pens, James Corgan made for himself and the senior staff a crude but effective diagram of the ship in question and the probe's placements.

"Assuming this is a common Antares class freighter, we will need fifteen probes. An engineering detail of three officers will be needed per probe, as well as the transporter signal strength enhancers used in ground operations to be stripped and refitted inside the probes. With the proper materials and personnel assigned, the task should be completed in one hour, fifty two minutes, thirty three seconds." He added while gasping for breath, "We will also need to re-enforce the pattern buffers to compensate for signal degradation. A shuttlecraft with transporter capability or a runabout can be fitted with extra pattern buffers for rescue operations, a task that will take fifteen minutes, forty seconds. The shuttlecraft or rescue runabout will aid in keeping the freighter crew's patterns intact while en route to the Galaxy's transporter room and... oh my god that was T'lan again, sir."

James Corgan sheepishly backed down under the gaze of bewildered crewmembers. "I only have basic engineering. This stuff is out of my league. Apparently she tried this in an academy simulation. Did what I just say make any sense, and does it have a chance of working?"

Rex raised an eyebrow at the Security Officer. "It's a good plan, Captain," he offered in an impressed tone. "My pilots can fly the runabouts, if sciences and engineering can put some people on the transporters. I'd do it myself, but I don't want to get sucked into my own head in the middle of a rescue op."

"Captain," Brianna said, interjecting. "The only way this plan will work is if we can get the freighter to lower its shields. If we do that time will be crucial as the rift will tear the freighter apart quickly. Once we get the people off, I think I've got way to seal the rift. Four well aimed photon torpedoes will seal the rift without sending radiation of a quantum torpedo into the parallel dimension." Anna informed, as she looked toward M'Kantu.

"I believe that we should determine if the rift is being caused by the warp field of the freighter or it is merely an effect of something else we do not yet know of," Abaddon added. "If the warp field is the problem then collapsing it with a resonant pulse will remove the effect that is holding the rift open with no radiation to affect the crew because the shields are in place. Even using torpedoes to collapse the warp field, if the shields are up they should block the radiation enough to prevent significant danger to the crew. Once the warp field is down, circumventing their shields is a simple matter." Abaddon slid a PADD to Brianna with the specs for the high-energy transporter technique that had been used on Starfleet vessels before to transport into and out of their shields.

"I don't know if torpedoes will work," Cutter countered. "The idea is sound, but a field *pulse* probably won't be enough, or if it is now, it won't be for much longer. You do want to disrupt the inversion, assuming it is something like the Cochran field we're familiar with, by creating some sort of interference field. For ship at warp, a torpedo explosion can create a strong enough pulse to disrupt the fields. I highly doubt this will enough to disrupt the fissure. We need something more sustained, something like the mines we encountered in Breen space. We need to be able to generate a sustained variable interference field, probably from within the fissure."

"Do you mean we have to do this on the freighter?" M'Kantu asked. Cutter swallowed and nodded.

Iniara had no desire to interrupt the flow of the meeting, so as the rest of the officers spoke, she tapped out a quick message on one of her PADDs: *IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO HELP T'LAN?* She didn't know precisely what she could do to help the Vulcan officer, but after seeing James' concern she felt she had to at least try. She then slid the PADD as unobtrusively as possible across the table to 'Commander Corgan before turning to her other PADD, continuing to take notes on anything that seemed relevant.

"Just one curious observation." Until now Autumn had preferred to remain silent. "My own experience with these memories seems to have been limited to the one person I had met since arriving and the person I was in close physical proximity to at the time." The golden-eyed woman shrugged her shoulders. For a moment she was about to expand on a theory but decided against it; marines were seldom taken seriously when the problem was an intellectual one.

Nyssa sat there listening to the conversation, she knew what they were talking about but some of it was simply over her head. But one thing was for sure, the ship needed to be neutralized, people saved and the universe saved from what ever was happening. It was while she was amusing herself with the simple aspects of the problem she got an idea, one that in theory could work.

"Sir's..." she stopped realizing she had just spoke and now all eyes were upon her she looked down for a split second and took a breath "The ship's power is self sustaining because of this connection to sub-space, so were not going to bring down the shields by shooting them. What we can do thou is push the ship into a nebula, one of those ones that stop shields working. Once the people are out we still have the problem that once it returns to normal space reality is going to go pear shape." she smiled "Why don't we flush the ship into a black hole, the gravity of a black hole contains everything that goes into it, including the energy from sub space" she looked up and realized that her explanation would more than likely cause a few laughs.

M'Kantu blinked at the Attaché officer and mildly considered what Curran's remark would be to the woman. The concept was not pleasant.

"No, Ms. Alvarez. Even I in my limited scientific knowledge can foresee the effect of a black hole being the anti-thesis of what is required. Even if there were a nebula in the area, which preliminary scans of the region have confirmed there is not. Regardless, of the idea, those shields need to come down as quickly as possible. Even debating the topic here brings it ever closer to degrading the membranes between dimensions. It is time we can ill afford to waste." His focus drew upon his Chief Engineer. "Is there any basis in the theory, though, Lieutenant?"

As the other senior staff members were engaged in planning, James found himself once again pushed aside, and all the more thankful for it. Being the centre of attention, much less while being enslaved to somebody else's recollections, tended to be a tad bit awkward.

The brief pause gave James the opportunity to glance at Iniara's note. He nondescriptly punched a brief message, sending the text to the PADD Iniara currently held.

The text flashed in amber, "Not sure. Talk after meeting." Iniara met Corgan’s eyes briefly and nodded once, then turned back to the meeting.

Brianna looked up from the PADD Abaddon slid over in her direction. "Captain, not sure that's a wise idea. If we risk using tractor beams or any means to move the ship we could risk making the tear bigger then it already is. We don't know what we are dealing with, we do something such as try to move the ship. We could make it worse." Anna interjected.

"Hotspot" Part III

By
Captain Daren M'Kantu, Commanding Officer
Commander Cassius Henderson, Executive Officer
Commander Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor
Lt. Commander James Corgan, Chief of Security
Lieutenant Corran Rex, Commander: Vanguard Squadron
Lieutenant Brianna "Anna" O'Shea, Chief Engineer
Lieutenant Jeremy Savoie, Chief Helmsman
Lieutenant Cutter Kara'nin, Chief of Astronomy and Physics
Lieutenant Doctor Klaus Fienberg, Chief Medical Officer
Lieutenant Abaddon, Chief Tactical Officer
Lieutenant JG Tarin Iniara, Operations Chief
Lieutenant JG Cora Dobryin, Chief Intelligence Officer
1st Lieutenant Autumn Hayes, Commander: Furies
Attaché Nyssa Alverez, First Contact Officer, Hazard Team Member

******************* Deck 1 Conference Lounge 1 *******************

Daren steeped his fingers together as he drew his elbows up on the opaque tabletop, tapping his forefingers on his upper lip in thought.

Cora had been quiet so far shaken by her recent experiences. The whole memory swap thing didn't help anything. For now she was content just to listen to what the others had to say.

"I think it can be established," Cass replied to the commanding officer of the Furies, "That the memory affect if chaotic and random at best. Our CMO has reported that it only happens in sleep, so for some people that's true. However, as I experienced, and Lieutenant Rex also pointed out, people can be awake during the affect. I experienced a memory from Crewman Kravakri not fifteen minutes ago, and I only know him by his personnel jacket. However, the memory affect isn't our primary concern, and I'd have to concur with Doctor Fienberg's assessment that it's a side affect."

"But a serious one nevertheless," interjected Karyn. "I know our priority is rescuing the crew of the freighter, but I don't think I have to remind anyone here that not all the memories we've experienced are positive or harmless. Some of them are unequivocally traumatic, and my concern is the longer we're here and the closer we get to the freighter, the more debilitating the memory slips, for lack of a better word, will be. We run the risk of becoming continually trapped in a cycle of memories where recovering from them takes time we don't have. I have no idea what putting a team on that freighter will do to them psychologically, including whether these 'side effects' will be permanent."

Dallas knew risk was part of the game, but it was her job to present all of the risks. This swapping of memories was more than a mere annoyance.

"Actually, Counselor, I disagree. It should probably be pointed out, considering that it seems like all reality stands on what we do here, that getting the crew of that freighter out needs to be considered a secondary priority. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," he gave his own position, then continued, "You have a point, however, about the risk to our crew. In some cases, we're just going to have to run those risks. However, we should take any steps possible to prevent the team, our crew, and the crew of the freighter from coming to harm. That said, our time is limited, and we're going to have to put the survival of the universe first."

"There are risks in every option presented today. Lieutenant O'Shea, we're going to need to find a way to out a team onto that freighter."

Anna was thinking at light speed. "I think I've got something that would work." Brianna said, standing up and moving over to the wall unit to show her idea. "We send a refined burst from the starboard phaser array. Low powered, but micro-suppressed to punch a small hole into the shields. Just as the beam punches through, we pig back a transporter beam with a team over to the freighter with the supplies we'll need on that end." She said, then looked around the faces looking in her direction. "Captain, this is all theoretical, but I've simulated it several times. By my estimate the transporter chief will have about twelve seconds to get the team aboard before the shields close over again. We all know that it takes about ten seconds for transporters to act. So it's going to be close, and very difficult. It could very well be a one way trip to." Brianna said, "With permission I'd like to be apart of that team. You'll need a qualified engineer over there."

Karyn held her breath. She wasn't even sure the Captain would go for the idea, but if he did, she wanted to be on that team as well. Dallas had been sitting around feeling sorry for herself for far too long. If she was going to kill herself, it wasn't going to involve drinking herself to death, it was going to involve doing something that mattered.

"Captain, I'm inclined to agree with Lieutenant O'Shea. We'll need a qualified engineer over there, as well as medical, operations, and sciences personnel," Cass said, turning his head to face M'Kantu, "And I'd like to lead the team."

Cora shifted her attention to Galaxy's CO and XO. "A qualified Intel Officer could be useful. I'm willing to join the away team as well."

Daren tapped his fingers together lightly. He nodded to Henderson and Dobryin in acknowledgement of their placement.

"I don't much like the idea of using a transporter in this region of space. Are runabouts truly out of the question? If even to draw closer to the freighter, at the very least to closely monitor the fluctuations. I don't trust the warp effects in this region."

"I would feel much better sending a team by shuttle than by transporter," Iniara stated. "There are so many unknowns to account for in this situation, especially with all the anomalies Lt. Kara’nin has described. I’m not sure if the transporters would work, much less work properly. Who knows what could happen."

"All it would take is one unexpected fluctuation in that warp bubble or some other random energy spike and we're all down the toilet. That's what could happen," Savoie tersely observed. "I agree with her, Captain. There'll be plenty of risk in any case, but I'd trust a shuttle under those conditions before I'd bet any lives on transporters."

"Lieutenant Rex, assign your most trusted pilot to operate the runabout. Lieutenant Heloi would be my first choice. She can work alongside Lieutenant Kara'nin on board the freighter."

Nyssa looked up and spoke rather softly, "Captain I would like to volunteer for this mission."

Daren nodded at the diplomat. Perhaps her skills as both a Hazard Team member and diplomat in this contested area of space would be an advantage.

"It is unfortunate we do not have time in excess to investigate other options, but I have faith in your abilities to resolve our situation." His dark eyes passed over the grim, but serious faces of his Department Chiefs, and felt pride in their determination. How many of them had left their bodies to travel on astral winds at this moment was unidentifiable, yet he need not reiterate the seriousness of the events that lay out before them. Ka would lead them through whatever their gods had planned for them. And they would defy those plans if it didn't suit them. Of this, he was positive.

"You have a go. Prepare your teams immediately. Shut that warp core down if you can. If not, scuttle the ship any way possible. Dismissed."

<dunno if it should be a backpost...but happens before the "all hands" thing.....forgive the inconsistency of time....i'd say the time between when they came back and this post was...maybe 15 mins...maybe up to an hour.....so maybe the all hands wasn't announced till after most the crew was "back" ... does this really even matter?>

"Evasive Friends"

Ensign Saul Bental, Intelligence Officer

Ensign Miramon Terrik, Flight Control Officer

Ensign Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineer

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

With Nara's disappearance, Miramon had been pretty much lost for something to do, and had simply resigned himself to continuing these Memory Jumps, until he somehow managed to get himself out. He was kind of vague on that particular point, but he'd known absolutely nothing about what had been causing the jumps until Nara had informed him of the presence of some form of creature. Short of finding it and killing it, he wasn't all that sure as to what he ought to do.

He was beginning to wish Saul was here. The Intel officer generally knew what to do, or at the very least was usually ready to act, even if his actions weren't precisely the right ones, or, moreover, the ones likely not to get them into trouble. But in this instant, anything would be better than sitting here idly. Not that he'd been sitting there in any physical sense. These memory jumps were sometimes far more hectic than he cared for. Not long ago, he'd been back aboard the K'Lyn, under attack by a pirate cruiser, until they'd been chased off by a Federation Norway-class starship on patrol. That had not been fun.

He was sitting in his quarters on the Galaxy, and he recognized the ship from the point just after the Battle of Havras. The ship was in pieces and had started limping home with the Miranda and the rest of the 12th fleet in order to have both ships put into dock and given a significant overhaul. He remembered feeling exasperated at having nothing to do, and had left his quarters and started walking the corridors restlessly, trying to figure out something to do. At least, that was what he had done in his memory, and so he was sticking to that, but his thoughts were a lot different from when he had done this first time around.

As he approached the entrance to Ten Forward, which had been his intended destination, he felt and saw the memory dissolving - the ship was cleaner, and there were less people inside Ten Forward than had been after Havras. So he was on the Galaxy in a different memory, as though he was doing this again - walking into Ten Forward on the same ship in a different time. Where, or more importantly, when that was, he couldn't be sure. He decided it'd be better to find out all the same, and stepped into the large room, the double doors hissing open at his approach and shutting neatly behind him as he walked through.

"I thought you'd never show up!” boomed a cheerful, familiar voice. The Intelligence officer sat next to their regular table, rapidly consuming a bowl of yellow noodles.

Miramon blinked in confusion. The voice was Saul's, but this wasn't something he remembered. Although, of course he might have some memories he might not recall buried back in his subconscious. Looking slightly curious, he walked over to where Saul was sitting, nodding his head in greeting and taking a seat.

"I'm surprised I didn't visit any of your memories. Although I was on Bajor again, I think, in the Chief of OPS' memory.", Saul said, resting the fork on the table momentarily.

The Bajoran looked at Saul strangely at that. "Sorry, memories?" He knew what his friend was talking about, but this was a memory. A memory could not talk about a memory, and he was sure he'd have known if this had happened before. He'd not encountered Saul in any of his previous memories, so this wasn't a memory of a memory jump, he was certain. He peered carefully at Saul, then reached out and pinched him.

"Hey!" Saul slapped his hand instinctively. "That's assaulting a fellow officer!"

Miramon rubbed his hand with some chagrin, never once taking his eyes off Saul. The reaction was one he hadn't expected, but he wanted to check again. "Alright, tell me this - if you're a memory, how come I don't remember this conversation? That's a question you shouldn't be able to answer!"

Saul grinned broadly. "If to follow your logic, my esteemed colleague - if this conversation never existed, and a memory can't talk about a memory, then I'm not a memory! And that's the actual situation, my friend. I'm real, and I'm here. Do you recall a memory where all of us came into this alien forest clearing? That's when the dreams stopped... for most of us."

The Bajoran let that all sink in, then smiled. "The only memory I remember with any trees in it at all was with Nara, when she went sailing with you. Actually, I thought with was a memory. I remember walking down to Ten Forward after the Battle of Havras, and then I was walking in here and I switched memories again, or at least thought I did. You mean to say some of us were in that state longer than others?"

"Yes...” Saul said, gazing stoically at his noodles. "I don't think anyone is sure about this, but it looks we brought some of 'dreamland'... along with us. I have a briefing with Dobryin and the rest of the Intelligence department this afternoon and I expect things to clear up by then. At any rate, you're back in the real Galaxy now, my friend."

"Good. In that case...Bartender!" the Bajoran called to one of the people tending bar around the room, and waiting patiently while he came over. "I'd like a glass of Raspberry Iced Tea, and a warm bowl of chocolate sponge pudding with LOTS of extra sauce."

"So... you say you were in Nara's dream... how was she doing?"

"Well, let's just say we saw a lot of her memories I didn't really want to see. She's had a really brutal-looking past, and it certainly makes me glad of my past. How about you? What'd you see?"

Saul briefly told him, between one noodle to the other, about the long road. He told him of the raid on Bajor with Iniara, of seeing Nara as a young adult, of being a knight, being a ghost in a Deltan party, being a bartender in danger... only three things he omitted - the explosion at Nara's quarters, anything that had to do with Zan, and the end of the road.

As he finished, he inhaled deeply. "So I had quite an interesting day, you see."

The Bajoran smiled wryly. "It sounds like it, all in all." He paused for a moment, considering how he ought to approach the next subject on his 'agenda', now that he had one. He considered it, then shrugged and decided to take the outright approach. "Okay, what exactly is it between you and Nara? Is there something going on between you two? If not, should there be something going on?"

Saul was about to bring a generous amount of noodles into his gaping mouth, but gave it up as soon as he heard Miramon. He returned the noodles to the bowl, sighed, and leaned backwards.

"I don't know, Miramon, I just don't know." He confessed, "On one hand, she's like this 'Super zealous warrior and guardian of Sakaria'... on the other hand, she's beautiful, nice in her own special way, and if she's a Starfleet engineer then she's also smart. And I don't feel uneasy next to her - which I usually do next to women who look so pretty. And if that's not enough, there are certain... job issues which she doesn't know of yet but that might come between us. Add to that the fact that I never had a... serious girlfriend... and you've got yourself one lost Intelligence officer."

Miramon chuckled at that one. "Suddenly, you're erasing all my previous opinions of you. Now, the little incident with Tizarin was understandable, because she's got a good century or two on you. Nara, though? I wouldn't have said she was one to intimidate you, of all people."

"Define 'intimidate'. If I had to conduct a trade with her, I would've eaten her without salt. This is a whole different matter, a matter that is very complicated and which I admittedly have little experience in. I'm not sure what the right thing to do is, and I'm even less sure if I want to do it. And there's something else..."

"Well, maybe so. But look, you were with me on Bajor, and you achieved your aims without once flinching. You were at Havras, and you're here now. How in the hell can you be scared of one woman after all that? And what do you mean, there's something else, huh?"

"Remember I just told you about the Welsh girl which was hit by her father? The one me and Tizarin took for a ride?"

"Well, yeah, of course.” Saul left out most of the details about the abuse in Branwen's memory, but Miramon could read between the lines.

"Well..." Saul lowered his eyes, "I came to see her once it was all over, you see... and she's a real nice girl, and she regards me as a knight she was in love with throughout her childhood. Hell, Miramon, her second or third sentence to me was something like 'Perhaps we're meant to be together'."

Suddenly, Saul realized he said it very loudly. He sent a suspicious glance to both sides, and then whispered, "I'm just giving this conversation a top-secret-alpha-one-clearance. Need to know basis, none of this is going to leak - or ELSE..."

"Intel to the core, you are. But you know me. Other than Nara, the Captain, maybe our XO and the bridge crew of Beta shift, I’ve never said a word about any of the stuff you get up to with anybody." Miramon smiled in amusement at Saul. "But seriously, alright. What is it?"

Saul laughed bitterly at Miramon's comment. "Well, I like her too, what can I say? On Utrecht III we used to call such a situation 'wealthy merchant's troubles'... never thought I'll find myself in one. And I probably won't. Nara's going to hate me once the... job... issues will interfere, and Branwen is going to sober up and realize I'm not Sir mighty."

Miramon leaned over and tapped Saul gently on the shoulder. "Look here, buddy. There are some things more important than your job. Resolve your issues, whatever they are, then do something about this. You like her, so she comes first. Job comes later. We all signed up for our careers, but I'm sure there's got to be something more than that alone. Think on it."

"It's more complicated than this. Plus, I'm not sure who is 'her'..."

All of the sudden, Saul felt very stupid for sharing all this with the Bajoran flight control officer - he was acting like a teenage girl gossiping with friends about this crush or the other. He was a Starfleet Intelligence officer, for crying out loud, not some lost teen!

"Ah, forget about it." He added with despair.

Miramon smiled consolingly, as his food finally arrived. He took a sip of the iced tea, savoring the realism of the flavor and the sheer appetizing look of his dessert. Earlier, before they'd started jumping, he'd have wanted some real food, but right now all he felt like having something that, in itself, was just there for sheer sensual pleasure. And Hasperat didn’t quite cut it for him. He took a spoonful, and then looked over the table at Saul, who was looking more depressed by the moment. He put his spoon down and did his best to reverse his own feelings of sudden annoyance.

"You know, I hate to say it, but you need a vacation, Saul. Either that, or several long and boring sessions with a Counselor. But look at you, man. You've clearly got too much on your mind, and you have got to snap out of it. Relax a little."

Saul rolled his eyes. "I don't think it justifies running to a counselor's office, Miramon. You can't go whine to a shrink whenever you face a dilemma. And best-- OK, quick change of subject! -- all in all I strongly believe that this alliance between the Breen, T'KithKin and Hydrans will dissolve as soon as they realize that the Federation is not as crippled as it was when the war was over. Hello Nara!" Miramon looked at Saul suspiciously until he heard him call Nara's name out, so he turned around in his chair to see where he was looking at.

Nara walked into ten forward with a PADD in her hand, hoping to get back to her routine of trying new drinks and reading. The new drinks she had only started trying yesterday. Maybe it WAS the new drink that caused the horrible wearing time she'd had recently. She knew better. Before she could be further paranoid as to never drink anything out of the replicator again, she spotted familiar faces. She walked over to Miramon and Saul. "Nice to see you in reality, Miramon." Nara held out a hand.

"I'm real too..." Saul muttered.

Miramon took Nara's hand and gripped it firmly, a smile blossoming on his face as she sat down. "Hi, Nara. Nice to see you as you, for a change."

Nara looked at Saul. "You're physically here. In that sense, you are real." He's never given her a chance to know the real him, so how would she know if it were him or not. She refrained from saying that. Had they been alone, she may had spoken it. Maybe.

"Feeling philosophical after the bizarre day we all just had?” Saul smiled at her. "Can't blame you. I just asked Miramon about you a minute ago, in fact."

Nara didn't smile back. She looked at him a moment, "I wasn't trying to be philosophical. What were you asking him?" She became suspicious.

"I was asking him how you were doing after he told me you met in a memory after I left you." Saul said, putting an exaggerated emphasis on each word.

Nara frowned further if it were possible thinking back over everything, suddenly feeling fresh in her memory. She gulped and looked at Miramon, "How much did you tell him?"

Miramon smiled reassuringly. "Not all that much, Nara. Frankly, those are memories I'm not quite sure I want to delve into again. What was said between us remains between us. I just told him the basic gist of the fact that we'd met and so on. Relax."

Nara looked at Miramon apologetically. He really was a gentleman. "I can't." With that she looked at Saul sadly. Something was wrong and she wasn't sure what. She wanted to ask what he was up to, but he sure as well would be evasive about it, or flip out. She grinned thinking how fun it would be to see that.

"You aren't angry at me for leaving you at your home, I hope." Saul found himself saying to Nara. "The road was calling, I didn't have much choice."

She wasn't sure how she felt. That she could say, "I don't know. It's not about that really. It's that you never did explain about the bomb. I can find no other explanation other than you brought it. Don't try to blame the creature, it never altered memories. There was no bomb in that memory. It had to had come with you. The question is why? I put up with the evasiveness, hoping over time we really could be friends, but then a bomb goes off, one you likely brought, and I'm not sure what to think." That was the cards. All on the table. She looked at him seeing what he had to say for himself.

Saul glanced at Miramon. The Bajoran's expression said 'You didn't say anything about a bomb...', but perhaps it was only Saul's imagination. After all, he had no way of knowing that Nara already told Miramon about the bomb.

"Nara... it is possible that several memories were mixed up. I've seen bombs explode, more than once." Saul said. It was the truth. He had no way of knowing whether the bomb was the projection of the fact he was hired to kill the woman in front of him, or a remnant of a past experience, which somehow infiltrated the dream."

Nara didn't change her expression. She didn't buy it.

"As for the evasiveness..." Saul inhaled deeply, "That's just who I am. I think both you and Miramon know by now there is much in my private life that I would prefer to keep private. For what it's worth, I consider you a friend."

And perhaps something else, he added without words, biting his lower lip.

"I understand evasiveness as an Intelligence officer, even evasiveness of being a male, but there is something more. It's not telepathy; it's just obvious to me." She laughed, "It's almost as if you’re scared to be around me."

Her laugh faded as she looked down feeling hurt and confused by the paranoia about this. She sighed and looked into Saul's eyes. She almost whispered, "I just have to ask one thing. Even if we can't be the friends I'd like, can I trust you?" She'd like to get to know Saul more. She wanted to get behind the wall. She doubted he would let her in like that. Maybe at least he can be like a comrade in arms. Could she trust him with her life when it mattered?

"Yes." He answered flatly. This time, there was no room for hesitation. "You can trust me. All things aside, we are two Starfleet officers serving on the same ship. If we don't trust each other, our chances of survival are slim."

She was so tempted to use telepathy to tell if Saul was telling the truth. Instead she looked deep in his eyes. It didn't seem to satisfy her, but he seemed to be genuine. About trusting each other as Starfleet Officers anyway. "Of course." She answered just as flatly.

Miramon nodded at Saul's words, though he of course had more of an inside look into the situation than Nara did, since he understood what was preoccupying the human as opposed to Nara, who didn't, regardless of her suspicions. He smiled at the two of them, almost in amusement.

"You know, listening to you two can be really depressing. Lighten up a little, would you?"

Saul almost forgot Miramon was present, as the discussion heated. "You're right. I mean, we're back in the real world, on course to Trill, and everyone is safe. That's all that matters."

Nara sighed, "Sorry, Miramon." She sat back and tried to relax, "What have you been up to since coming back?"

The Bajoran laughed openly at that one. "Talk about a blatant change of subject."

Nara smiled, "You told us to lighten up." The smile seemed heavy, but she kept it on as she tensed. She was angry, she just wasn't sure why.

"Yeah, you're right about that. But you two are too tense. I mean, look at us here. I'm spectating in a semi-argument having just returned to what I would suppose you'd consider the real world. Not quite the celebration I had in mind, huh? And what is it between you two anyway? You know what they say about couples that argue."

Nara looked at Miramon, "What do they say? Couple? We're no..." She stopped talking not sure she wanted to say it. Well they weren't a couple. For some reason, she didn't want to sound like she didn't want to be. Did she though?

"I think I am even going to help you with that." Saul said, swallowing the final noodles. He stood up, wiping his upper lip with the back of his hand. "I have enough work to keep me busy 'till 2383. We will talk later."

That last sentence was aimed at Nara. She was getting suspicious, and rightfully so. All Saul needed was to keep her at bay until they reach Trill... was it too much to ask?

Eyeing the two of them suspiciously, his expression wavering somewhere between concern for his friends and amusement over their clear embarrassment and the lack of obvious intent towards doing anything about it right now, Miramon cleared his throat just to try and alleviate tension with a small distraction.

He couldn't say he was surprised as Saul headed off and left him and Nara alone at the table. He was excellent at evading things he didn't want to talk about, and while he was probably right about having a lot of work to do, he knew fully well that he was avoiding the confrontation between him and the half-Betazoid officer for as long as possible.

What exactly were they waiting for?

Just as the door closed behind Saul, the yellow claxons came one. Nara arched an eyebrow at Miramon, "Looks like the captain doesn't like what just happened. I better get to Engineering." Nara stood and looked at him again, "Kind of glad for the distraction actually." She smiled and left.

"Focusing On The Future Is Hard When The Past Keeps Popping Up"

Nara rushed to Engineering. Her chief had gone. She turned to a fellow engineer, “What’s happening.”

The other Engineer looked at her, “You don’t know?”

Nara looked at her and smiled, “Of course I know we’ve been jumping around in memories, but what’s going on now?”

The girl seemed to be in a daze. Seemed for some people it was still not over. Nara gently grabbed her shoulder, “Meilie, come back.”

Meilie shook her head, “Huh?”

Nara took her hand away, “Focus on now. Are they having a senior staff meeting?”

Mei nodded, “There’s a ship caught in a warp bubble. Something about tearing space.” Mei looked around dazed again.

Nara sighed. She looked at the console Mei was working at, and turned her toward it, “Keep an eye on the warp signature. If you need something to keep your mind from wandering, talk to me about what you plan to do tomorrow.”

Mei and Nara usually worked side by side on their shift. Nara went to concentrate on her own work station. They were likely running sensors full blast. Nara had just finished the retrofit O’Shea had asked her a few days ago. She knew a little better how it worked and knew if need be, she could assist in any repairs or modifications to it.

Suddenly she was there, looking at the parts and studying them. She snapped out of it looking at the console again. It was still with her too. She sighed. A rip in space. Sure, that made sense. It still amazed her that anything could even rip space. She had to focus on the future to keep her mind away from the past.

“So Mei, what are you doing tomorrow? Mei?” Nara looked over and her co-worker was blank, so she touched her again. “Focus, remember? Don’t get lost in the past.”

Mei had tears forming. Nara could tell she was frustrated. Mei whimpered, “I don’t know why I keep being pulled back. Half the time it’s not even me! Just a minute ago I was on this planet on top of a cliff looking at kids pointing at me.”

Nara dropped her hands. It was HER memory. “Try not to think about it. Tell me your plans for tomorrow. Maybe that way we can keep the past out of our minds. By focusing on tomorrow.”

Mei nodded, “Kerwod and I have a date!”

Nara smiled as she turned to her console, “Tell me about it.” She listened to her daydreaming about what it would be like and suddenly she was describing their last date. Nara sighed, “No, don’t go there. I’ll talk about my plans.” Then she realized she didn’t have any. She decided to make some, “I’m going to go talk to Miramon about.” She stopped, “You know. How about 5 years from now. Let’s talk about that.”

That was more comfortable anyway. Nara smiled as Mei went on about how in 5 years she’ll be married with kids and describing how’d she decorate her house. Nara kept an eye on how the systems were doing. Someone on the bridge was allotting a lot of energy for warp and sensors. Without knowing what was going on at the bridge, Nara could tell it was serious. They were trying to find something…and fast.

((OOC: This is a bit of a back post. I'm sorry that it has taken this long to get out my introduction post, but I have a situation going on with another sim that is sucking out my will to sim and my desire to write. As soon as the situation clears up you can about bet I'll be a lot more active.))

"Realization"

Sharaiya

[the meeting between the Sonomaama and Captain M'Kantu]

Sharaiya floated before the captain with her mother and watched in amazement as the scenery about them changed and then shifted to something more stable. She knew somehow that they were in danger, but she didn't totally feel like she was in danger. Something felt off, and most of that vibe came from her mother.

~Mother, why are we in such danger with these new memories coming in?~

~Silence child, You still have yet much to learn about your people, and the memories are there for you to learn from if you'd take the time to live them.~ There was a distinct tone of disapproval in her tone as she looked over at Sharaiya's father.

~But, how do we know that this is the best life for us if we don't look about first?~ Sharaiya irrepressibly asked.

~Now, now. You know that you can not go asking questions like that. Remember what happened the last time? We are your parents, and have lived the memories. There is nothing that is the matter with how we live.~ Her father responded, both chiding her and reassuring her that the way they lived was the correct path.

~But have you SEEN how the other worlders live?! So many different memories and places! No one has the same memory as another! Even if they were at the same event in their time they don't see it the same. Why can't we do that?~ Sharaiya was quickly silenced by her now extremely disturbed and mortified parents as their daughter's comments were loud enough to have been overheard by some of the closer Sonomammans

Sharaiya glowed brighter in her silent frustration and anger before calming down and disappearing back to her home. She knew that her parents would know where she had gone, it was that way with each family. Each family was connected to each other. But strangely enough this connection did not make Sharaiya closer to her family or people, in her case it was driving her away from them. She had been bouncing, from one memory to the next, never staying in one place too long but she knew that these strangers did not belong in her world, yet she felt something very strong about them and knew that when they left and the rift was closed, she would never see them again, and her life would supposedly return to its previous unchanged state.

But that wasn't entirely the truth. Sharaiya knew that she would forever be different from her people for having taken the time to check out these people and their strange memories. She knew that she would never again be able to just quietly accept her lessons via the memories that her family chose for her from the memories that were handed down through her clan. No. She would be forever a part and that in and of itself made her realize that she could not stay with her family any longer. She needed some place to go, but the question now was, where?

"From One Problem to Another...Possibly"

Ensign Miramon Terrik, Flight Control Officer

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He watched as both Saul and then Nara walked out of Ten Forward, the former heading onto duty and the other in answer to the Yellow Alert status. Of course, he'd have to answer it himself, but since he wasn't on duty and the ship could only have on pilot, his basic reply was to head up to the Bridge to be ready to relieve whoever was on duty at the time, in case the ship should end up needing a replacement. After all, he was next on shift. All other officers would be returning to their quarters or duty stations if they had them.

As he stood up and quickly finished off his Iced Tea, leaving his dessert only half-finished since he didn't have time to polish that one off, he straightened his uniform and then put the glass down, pushing his chair backwards gently and then pushing it back under the table gently. Until the ship went to Red Alert, it was hardly a problem. He wasn't in a great hurry, since the usual reason for Yellow Alert was to bring the shields up and keep the ship prepared in case the situation turned into an emergency, which seemed rather abstracted from their current situation. Besides, his CO had swapped shifts with him, so he'd be on the Bridge anyway, so he'd handle things for a few minutes. Given that the ship was at Yellow Alert, everyone apart from Saul and Nara appeared as relaxed as was possible given all the memory jumping, though he noted how tired most of them seemed. It was fine for some, he supposed.

He nodded to the bartender that had served them earlier, then walked with a fluid gait out of the room. Even though he was 33 years of age, his Bajoran physiology allowed him much more fliudity of movement than was possible for a human, as a result of the developed bone structure of his limbs. And working on a Bajoran freighter for over 4 years had helped, since the ship was undermanned, overworked and in need of a significant amount of repairs. When one had to deal with pirates and bad equipment at every turn, you learned to be flexible both as a crewman and in a physical sense, as well.

His thoughts were mainly turned towards Saul and Nara for the moment. His Terran friend was in one hell of a mess, that was certain. Most men only had to worry about finding the right kind of partner, but Saul had one woman perhaps incorrectly infatuated with him as a result of the memory jumps, and another that liked him but he apparently had 'job complications' with, even though the two would rarely if ever have worked together. What he could be certain of was that Saul was hiding something, which admittedly wasn't anything new, where Miramon was concerned, but then everyone had something to hide from somebody. And in Intel, this was more than true, but this seemed different.

As for Nara, she was fiery, willful and could prove to be more than a handful for Saul. Not that this was a bad thing, because somebody needed to keep the man on his toes, but Nara was one of those people that could walk into a room and stop everyone talking simply because she wanted it to be so. And it was amazingly funny see Saul get so worked up when she walked in earlier in Ten Forward, or would have been, had it not at the same time being that much more saddening. Although it was certainly a novel approach.

He was a little disappointed that he'd not managed to see any of Saul's memories while they had been memory jumping, even if doing so was a complete annoyance. He'd ended up in his own, and in those of two complete strangers, but not one of his friend's. And from what Saul had said, they'd not jumped into each others, either. That was curious, to say the least, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. The major irony of the whole thing is that he'd somehow managed to get caught into the memories of one of the women that Saul was interested in. Maybe the Prophets had a sense of humour.

Stopping before the Turbolift that would take him up to the Bridge, he pressed the button beside it and waited patiently for it to arrive. On a day like this one, you could just imagine the sheer amount of people that'd be using it, especially since the ship was at Yellow Alert, which meant not only would the duty shift officers for Gamma shift be heading up to the Bridge, but so would all department heads stationed up there and any of the other auxiliaries needed to cover the stations in an emergency. He could only imagine what the Turbolift was gonna be like - and on a Galaxy class starship, it was gonna be one of the few places other than a Jeffries tube that was gonna get cramped.

He smiled and watched as the doors hissed open, a few people stepping off the lift, but the rest remaining in a pretty tight squeeze. Nobody said being an officer was comfortable...

"Destination, Bridge..."

Ensign Miramon Terrik, Flight Control

Lt. JG Tarin Iniara, Operations

Set approximately 2 minutes after "From One Problem to Another...Possibly."

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The volume of personnel in the hallways increased steadily, a typical i