[BACKPOST]

Archiver's note: In cleaning out some old folders in my mail client, I found this post in the wrong folder. Being that it is a character development post about Captain M'Kantu as wel as sets the sociopolitical tone of the Federation, I added it here. It's set during the 'Quid Pro Quo' episode of last year.

"The Dance"

Principal Characters

Capt. Daren R. M'Kantu
Dr. June Ellis

****

USS Galaxy-A
Deck 1
Captain's Ready Room

Daren was not a man who often wasted time on regret.

Regret was the leisure of a man who had too much time on his hands, and Daren, as the captain of a Federation Starship and as a man known for his diplomatic skills, had little time or patience for such a holiday.

Still, there were times when his heart and mind lingered in that direction, whether or not he wanted them to. Stressful days when he cursed the first M'Kantu for ever leaving the mines of Dar-es-salaam, regular days when he dwelled upon the happy memories with his ex-wife, June.

But more often than not, his regret ran in the direction of his daughter, Bahiyah. About how he could have done so wrong as a father that she could have ended up in the situation she was in now. About how maybe the only thing that he had done right as a father had been to help her run away. He'd broken his oath to the Federation to do so, broken it without a second thought, as though it hadn't been the guiding post of his life for almost half a century. Whatever his failings as a father had been, he'd been determined that just once, just one time, he would be there for his daughter when she needed him.

So he'd falsified records, added Bahiyah's name to the list of those that had died in the attack her ill-chosen lover had used her to help arrange, and arranged for a new identity for her. He'd quietly sold off items that he'd collected over the years he'd been in Starfleet to provide her with the money to start over again, someplace where no one would know her, held his daughter just once the way that he now knew he should have been holding her all her life... and let her go again.

June didn't know what he'd done, he'd never found the words to tell her. Secretly, he hoped that she'd approve, that she'd understand that he'd finally put his family first, but that didn't help when he was looking at her and the words telling her what he'd done failed to come. Perhaps if they met in person, he reflected, perhaps then he could say what he needed to say to her, but that was unlikely.

Even though they talked more now than they had in years, he still harbored a secret fear that she'd hate him. Not for saving their daughter, but for letting her think that Bahiyah was dead for these past months. If that happened, if he lost her too... he didn't like to think about what life would be like then.

But he would always have Starfleet. The institution was his life, his religion, his anchor. Still, there were problems inherent in the system, for one thing the ever-growing Hawk faction and their militaristic plans for an overly-aggressive defense. Starfleet just didn't hold out on the ideals that it once had. Maybe that was why some of his younger crew, officers like Corgan, Grey, and McAllen seemed so jaded, or why officers like Murphy and Hunter felt like they could get away with anything.

Then again the Dove faction could be too idealistic at times. The Federation had too many enemies to just sit on its hands and hope for the good of the universe and its inhabitants to prevail. Much as he might wish it to be so, the rest of the galaxy did not adhere to the principles of enlightened self-interest that the Federation held so dear, and expecting them to was like walking up to a bull rhinoceros and kicking it in the rear and expecting it not to turn on you.

All of which led to the reason he was sitting at his desk, looking out the window while his coffee got cold - the Tanzanian coffee his replicator finally produced correctly - and trying to decide, for the thousandth time, if he'd made a mistake in accepting the command of the Galaxy. It had been offered to him not for his ability, not as a reward, but because he was, finally, the candidate that had offended the Hawk and Dove factions the least when his name came up.

His war record and stance on a strong defense had satisfied the Hawks, and his diplomatic successes had encouraged the Doves, so they'd been left with nothing to fight over when the list worked its way down to his name. Not the most sterling of recommendations that Fleet could have given him, but at least his name *had* been on the list.

He'd never asked how far down though. There were some illusions he'd like to keep.

With a sigh he reached down and picked up his almost-cold coffee and took a drink, and then stood up to walk over to his window and look out at the Gryphon asteroid belt around them. Billions of tons of rock whirling and moving in a coordinated dance orchestrated by Allah's hand, more delicately-balanced than any flower atop a stem, and more dangerous than.... than even Victor Krieghoff in Security. Beautiful, mesmerizing, dangerous and enticing, the dance was all of those and more... and watching it, he felt small and insignificant... and alone.

He finished off the cold coffee, settled the mug in the replicator and recycled it, only to call up another cup and turn to the wall screen. He only knew one cure for the loneliness he felt right now. "Computer. Person to person call to Dr. June Ellis. ASDB Facility, Jupiter, Terran System."

A few minutes later and he was connected. June's face appeared onscreen and she smiled warmly at her ex-husband. Years together, years apart, and these last months in mourning for her daughter, nothing had ever completely destroyed their connection.

"To what do I owe the honor, Captain?" June asked with a slight smirk. The passage of time had been kind to her face and only faint wrinkles remained from years of smiling.

"Nothing special," Daren admitted, wondering for the millionth time why Allah had seen fit to include the Borg in his design for the universe, and why the confrontation with them at Wolf 359 had been destined to happen within his lifetime, to place a wedge between him and the woman he'd never stopped loving. "I was just feeling... small."

"Ah, well as your father would have told you," June replied with mock seriousness. "The universe overshadows us all." She gave her ex-husband a contemplative look then. "You look like you could use a vacation, Dar."

"I could," he agreed. "But I can't take one right now." He smiled sadly. "An all-to familiar refrain, I suppose." He shook his head. "I'm really not certain that I should have done this, June. I think that I may have been happier back on the Vel'dna for another five."

"And you would have been kicking yourself the entire time you were there for missing out on the opportunity of Galaxy." June replied calmly. "I *know* you, Daren."

"Today, I'm not so sure I know myself, June." Daren sighed and looked down at his coffee. "This isn't like it was on the Vel'dna, or the Valdemar, or even the Susquehanna. The rules changed somewhere, and I didn't get the memo telling me what the new ones were. And my crew...." He sighed again and shook his head. "I don't know, dear, I just don't know." He realized what he'd said only after he'd finished and looked down, embarrassed. "Sorry about that, old habits I'm afraid."

She had been taken back a bit by the endearment but then found it didn't bother her. "That's all right." June coughed slightly to cover the awkward moment and then replied. "Anytime you need to talk, you know you can talk to me."

"Good," Daren said softly, "because I need that very much right now." He looked up, still touched by embarrassment at his tired slip. "How much time do you have?"

(OOC: Set during the attack of the USS DIIS upon the USS Galaxy, ten minutes have gone by at this point and Vanguard Squadron has started their dog fight with the Breen Fighters and happens shortly during the latter half of "Apocalypse Rising" part 1)

The Vastru Encounter

Featuring:

Ensign Marcus A. Slayton
Enigneering Officer of the USS Galaxy

Ensign Richard R. Langly
Computer Systems Engineer of the USS Galaxy (NPC)

Lieutenant Pindar Danna
Tactical Systems Chief of the USS Galaxy (NPC)

Also appearing:

Lance Corporal Grace Waldron
Starfleet Marine Corps/Armed Force Recon-USS Galaxy (NPC)

Private Michael J. Caboose
Starfleet Marine Corps-USS Galaxy (NPC)

Corporal Dexter Grif
Starfleet Marine Corps/Demolitionist & Combat Engineer-USS Galaxy (NPC)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Location: Phaser Cannon Maintence, Deck 15-USS Galaxy's Stardrive section

Theme: "Peacekeeper Ambush" from Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars soundtrack

Marcus and Langly was still at their stations at Phaser Cannon Maintence, they had managed to route the last of the power conversion issues and then Marcus smiled with victory as the systmes purged themselves and the phaser cannon became active again. Marcus quickly slapped his comm-badge

"Bridge, this is Ensign Slayton. We have control of the phaser cannon again and we should have access to the tactical routines very shortly as well!" he said and he didn't wait for a reply but simply went back to his work and turned around to look at the situation monitor behind him, about then he noticed that the shields was still not coming up and the ship shuddered every so often from a lucky shot from the larger capital ship or it's smaller fighters. He took his glasses off and wiped them clean before putting them back on when a thought came to him then turned to where Langly was fighting with the computer systems.

"Langly, where is the main deflector subsystems?" Marcus said over the din of the alert and the occasional sounds of explosions.

"They're on deck thirty five of the stardrive but you can't head there, Lieutenant Danna gave us orders to stay here and ensure that the PCM stays up." Langly replied but he still had that tone of worry in his voice.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving you in charge of getting the phaser cannon back up to full along with the other tactical systems. Stay right there for a second." Marcus explained quickly and then headed to where the marines was standing and grabbed Grace's uniform.

"Grace, I need a favor. I need someone to stay here and help Langly get the tactical systems up to full while someone comes with me to deflector control!" he said and Grace looked over at the shorter of her collegues, got his and Caboose's attentions and shouted at him. "Grif, get into PCM and help Ensign Langly get the tactical systems while Caboose goes with Marcus to main deflector control. Understood?" Grace said and the two marines nodded, then Grif went into PCM while Marcus and Caboose hit a run for the nearest turbolift while Marcus tagged his comm-badge again.

"This is Ensign Slayton to Lieutenant Danna. Sir, myself and a marine is heading down to main deflector control. I have a hunch and I have confidence that mister Langly will be able to get or at least help to get the rest of the tactical systems up and running, sir." Marcus said, explaining to one of his superior's while he and Caboose entered a turbolift and Caboose said "Deck 35".

"Alright, we're getting tactical control back slowly but also Lieutenant Gray is helping the senior staff with getting the shields back up among some of the other things while chief O'shea is still planetside helping to keep the Akula's self-destruct from happening." Danna said and Marcus, not caring if he looked stupid, nodded to the thin air as the doors opened and the two made a dead run for where the Main Deflector Subsystems was located. When they got there, he noticed various technicans trying to get the shields back up and running. A medical officer dressed in a hazard team uniform was helping an injured engineer while Marcus headed towards one of the primary stations while Caboose stood nearby, his rifle scanning the room for any signs of trouble. He brought up the shield schematics and noticed that there was somekind of command level protocol up and blocking him from using any of the usual methods that any engineer would know normally. He tried hacking into the! command protocols in order to rush the system to allow the shields to be raised but he wasn't able to do anything as the code was somewhat complex. He reached up an activated the inter-ship comm-system.

"This is Deflector Control to the bridge, there is somekind of command level code going through the system that we can't get past at the moment but we are working hard on it. Deflector control out." Marcus said and he went back to work, trying to figure out what the frak was happening. Caboose walked around Marcus' back to the otherside of the terminal to gently reassure a security crewman who was looking a little bit worried but nodded at the older marine when Caboose's reassuring hand patted him on the shoulder. "So, what do you think is happening, Marcus?" Caboose asked to which Marcus muttered something in Andorian that Caboose knew only a little of and that little that Caboose knew meant that he knew exactly what his friend said.

"Hey, Marcus?" Caboose asked as he kept his phaser rifle at the ready just in case anyone from the attacking ship tried to come aboard and start shooting at things, Caboose was more than ready having fought Jem'Hadar during the war in hand to hand combat at times which meant one of the very scant few times that his heavy-gravity world heritage came into a positive affect rather than a negative one. Marcus looked over at his friend with a curious look. "Missed me?" Caboose said with a slight smirk on his face to which Marcus could only reply with "Just like old times, eh?!" and then he went back to his duties of trying to get the shields back up...

"Silhouettes in the Rain"

Lieutenant J.G. Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer, presumed dead

Lieutenant J.G. Saul Bental
Intelligence Officer, presumed legit

A light shower, not unlike the spring rains in the Netherlands so many lightyears away, washed some of the filth off the pavement. It wasn't a clear rain, it was a rain mixed with dust, formed in the clouds contaminated by the ash and smoke which rose from the city of Leran Manev like a regiment of weary infantry.

Saul Bental crept through the alley, using every trick in the unwritten street-boy's-guide-to-the-urban-life in order to avoid detection and to throw off any possible stalkers.

He couldn't possibly allow anyone to see the person he planned to meet, since that person no longer existed.

If the hooded cape was ever most annoying, it was now. It's fibers soaked with water and clung to her. She had left the medical tent to do some business of her own. Some business she much welcomed. Saia was listening to some story with the other children when she quietly stepped into the rain.

What she didn't know, was Saia kept an eye on her friend to be sure of where she was. To anyone, it would seem odd to trust a mysterious stranger, but Saia did. She played with the other children and listened to the stories the nurses sometimes told, but she always felt safe when her silent friend was around. When she saw her leave the tent, she watched the tent opening for awhile, but she didn't come back. Saia stood and went to peek through to find her friend walking briskly away.

Without even considering why or what dangers, Saia trudged out following.

Now she hid around a corner and watched the silent stranger in the now soaked cloak enter an alley.

The stranger was then approached by another figure. It was raining, but Saia was pretty sure the man did not have spots, which meant that he wasn't from Trill.

'An alien!', she thought.

Saul took a step forward, unsure if the person three meters away from him was Naranda or not. The fingers of his right hand made contact with the phaser hidden beneath the black coat as he took a hesitating step forward.

"Princess?", He asked, using the Sakarian word.

Saia watched wondering what she should do if the alien proved to be dangerous. She wouldn't let him hurt her friend.

Nara looked toward him and smiled, "Yes." Her voice felt strange to use after so many days.

Saia gasped. Did she just speak! She never spoke before!

Saul allowed a smile to break. A genuine one. "Until now I wasn't sure whether I was able to pull that trick or not. How are you doing?"

"What trick?" She was sure she was supposed to know what he meant, but she never seemed to catch on.

"The trick where I blow up an entire art gallery over your head.", Saul smirked.

"Oh, THAT trick. Well, I'm alright considering. Made myself useful at one of the med tents. Don't worry. No one knows who or what I am. This little girl has been basically my constant companion, but I haven't spoken to even her. Sometimes I wish I could."

Saia watched the two. She wondered if her friend was an alien too. She watched, not sure what to think or do.

Nara wanted to take the hood off, but didn't in case someone was watching they couldn't see. "How long do we have to keep this going?"

"I still haven't heard anything from your father... I am sure that he would contact my middleman as soon as he finds out who is behind this." Saul told her.

"He'll find him." Nara smiled thinking of her father's cunningness.

"I count on it. Until then I--"

Saia was listening, leaning on a wall. Somehow her hand lost grip of the corner as she leaned in to hear and she quickly grabbed the wall again. With the water and the harsh way to slapped the wall, it was enough to make Nara turn to look. She saw Saia move behind the wall. Nara turned, "It's the little girl I was telling you about." She turned back to the wall and called, "You can come out."

Saia slowly walked into view with a worried look that turned to anger as she crossed her arms. "You're not even Trill are you?"

"Naienn!", Saul cursed in Dutch, hoping the girl's universal translator is unfamiliar with the language. Then, he scowled at the girl.

"I did not know it was considered polite on Trill to eavesdrop to other people's chats."

Saia pouted, "You're not supposed to be putting Symbionts in humans either."

"We're not... what?", The Intelligence officer demanded, confused. Saia ignored him and kept her eyes on Nara.

Saul flashed a sour grin toward Saia, then brought his mouth near Nara's ear. "I was going to ask you for help but right now your main concern should be keeping her close to you, VERY close. We can't take risks of your identity being exposed."

Nara walked a little toward Saia and bent down, "Saia, come here please."

Saia took a few steps to her, "Why didn't you talk before?"

"I have to hide to save my life."

Saia tilted her head. It was her turn to be confused. "There are aliens all around. Why would we kill you?"

Nara smiled at her assumption, "That's not what I meant. People assuming I'm Trill has helped, but I just don't want them knowing I'm someone more specific."

Saia looked at Saul suspiciously, "What about him."

"He's a friend. He helped me. But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Saia leaned in to Nara, "Will he hurt me if I do?"

"If he does, I'll hurt him. We're friends, right? We protect each other."

Saia nodded still giving Saul an untrusting glare.

"Looks like you can find ways to keep yourself safe without my assistance, princess," said Saul, ignoring Nara's threat,. "So let's meet here again in eighteen hours and I'll let you know if there's any news. Your friend can come too if she wants, no sneaking this time."

Nara looked at Saia and smiled. Saia's face softened a little, but she was still confused by the whole thing.

"One more thing," said Saul. He looked like someone who suddenly recalled that he needed to take care of something super important - yesterday. "I brought you a gift. Could you close your eyes please? I promise it won't hurt."

Nara gave him a strange look, but closed her eyes as she said, "Everytime it's your idea to meet, you've got a gift or something that knocks my world off axis."

"At least you can't say this suitor come empty-handed. Now just give me a moment..."

Nara nearly jerked back feeling his hands at her neck, but felt him work her collar.

Eventually, Saul took a step away, examining his handiwork. "Congratulations, Lieutenant. You've earned it."

Nara opened her eyes as it dawned on her. "When did I get promoted?"

Saul chuckled. The two rank pips looked on Nara's outfit like two lost Pakleds in the middle of the desert. "The same time they promoted me, only that O'Shea didn't manage to hand it to you before you perished. She tried to pretend that she's pissed at you, but inside she's very sad. I hope we'll make her glad soon."

"Well, we did cross the line at making me appear foolish. Of course, by my pre-StarFleet record, I'm sure it wasn't a surprise." She shook her head.

Saia watched all this with more confusion. Not a scared confusion, but more of a this-is-getting-boring-now confusion.

Saul turned toward her, and an idea came in mind, as they always do.

"Before I go, little secret agent - what's your name again?"

Saia frowned and looked at Nara.

Nara smiled, "He won't hurt you."

She looked at Saul again, "Saia."

"I'm Saul.", he replied, seeing no need to think of a secret identity since Nara already spoke his name. "Is there a famous restaurant here in this city specializing in red-colored fish?"

"Of course." Saia answered as if he would know. "But they don't taste very good." She scrunched her face.

"Do they have a name?"

Saia pouted. "Mex and Xin's Shuriburi."

Saul lowered his eyes and grinned as though he just recalled an old joke. Which he did.

"Thank you agent Saia. You just spared one busy doctor a world of trouble. And princess, we'll be in touch."

Saia looked at him. She understood his words, but he didn't make any sense to her.

He reached again for her collar, touching a loose curl for a moment, then pulled his hand as patting her was some sort of horrible mistake that is going to cost him tons of credits. Then, he spun on his heels and began to make his way out of the alley.

Nara's breath caught for a moment as he touched the hair that had somehow escaped her hood. "Saul." The rain began to come down harder in the moments she spoke to him.

The Intelligence officer stopped, his head turning so that she could see his profile.

Nara smiled and kissed his cheek causing the wet fabric of her cloak to touch his face. "Thank you."

"if you can make it here..."

or "a DIIS in the hand is worth two in the bush"

Featuring:

Ensign Marcus Slayton
Engineering Officer, USS Galaxy

Private Michael J. Caboose
Starfleet Marine Corps, USS Galaxy (NPC)

Secondary:

Petty Officer 3rd Class Stevens
Hazard Team Medic, USS Galaxy (NPC)

Location: Main Deflector Subsystems/Deck 35-USS Galaxy

Theme: "Blow me Away" by Breaking Benjamin (Halo 2 Soundtrack)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the USS DIIS under the command of "Commodore" Christopher Thomas fired it's pulse phasers at the left side of the stardrive of the USS Galaxy, Captain Darren M'Kantu commanding. In the Main Deflector Sub-systems center of the Galaxy, Ensign Marcus Slayton was alternating between being extremely pissed off and annoyed to being somewhat amused. The annoyed-pissed feeling was coming from the fact that on his first day on the Galaxy, some fool decided start shooting up his ship while the amused part came from the intense pleasure that it wasn't anyone on the ship that the fool who was in command of the DIIS had to worry about than the engineering department of the Galaxy who had the displeasure of being a bunch of evil geniuses when the need arose.

"Marcus, remember the time back on the Hiroshima when Grace tried to use her female charms on captain Stewart during a poker game?" Caboose asked hoping to keep the mood light. Caboose was a good man, a little dense at times but a fine marine even though he tried to bring humor at the worst of times during combat, but it had the affect none the less as Marcus started snickering.

"Yeah, I've never seen Captain Rex "Ironsides" Stewart jaw drop any further than when Grace did the whole leaning thing that she did then. This code lockout is beginning to really getting to me. I don't..." Marcus was about to say when suddenly the station that he was working at exploded, throwing him back and over a work table. Caboose kept his rifle at the ready while he went over to check on Marcus. Caboose noted that the colonial officer was nursing a bad arm and a gash on the left side of his jawline. Marcus slowly got to his feet, holding his right arm against his body but then he got a strange look on his face and went back down on one knee. "Caboose, get the medic!" Marcus said and Caboose called the medic over and she ran her tricorder over his arm and head, then frowned at the results.

"Sir, we need to get your to engineering. You have four fractures in your right arm with most of them being primarly in your right forearm and you have a type two energy burn which might have seared the nerves shut in a portion of your hand. But the biggest worry is that you have a concussion from the explosion." the medic said which Marcus merely shook his head and tried to stand up, but the room started to spin and Marcus made his way over to another station and tried to work through the pain in order to get the shields up. {I can't let Anna down, I *WON'T* let Anna down} Marcus was thinking to himself but the pain was bad. The medic came over and tried to get him to goto sickbay by placing a hand on his uninjuried elbow but Marcus pulled his arm away but Marcus looked at her. "Can you give me something for the pain so that I can help get the shields up?" Marcus asked and the medic was about to comment but Caboose merely looked at Marcus and nodded.

"Alright, but after this crisis is over I need you to goto sickbay alright, sir?" the medic said to which Marcus only nodded and gave him a shot of Ventor 34, a painkiller agent which nulls the pain for a while. After doing that and Marcus turned back to his duties did the medic pulled Caboose to the side.

"Private, after this crisis is over I want you to personally escort the ensign to the sickbay. I admire his dedication to his duties but that is no excuse to increase the threat of a permenant injury, no matter what." the medic said to Caboose who merely looked over at Marcus who suddenly let out a shout of joy.

"Computer, this is Ensign Slayton. What is the reboot command for the entire deflector system?" Marcus asked and the computer responded with "Reboot protocol requires personal prefix code of Chief Engineer." and that made Marcus close his eyes and lean against the monitor for a second and then he said to the air,

"Computer, Primary Deflector Shield reboot program code zero four dash twenty two dash twenty three seventy three authorize." Marcus said and Caboose walked over to his friend and started to check on him when he noticed a small trickle of blood that slowly started to come out of his noise.

"Code recognized, beginning main deflector shield rebooting. Estimated time till full reboot is three minutes, four seconds." the computer came back and Marcus tapped his comm-badge. "Bridge, this is Ensign Slayton. I've got the shield's computers rebooting and it'll be less than three minutes till you can have them back in full. Slayton out." was all that Marcus was able to say before he pitched forward and was caught by Caboose. The medic activated her comm-badge as she ran her tricorder over Marcus.

"This is Petty Officer Stevens in Deflector Control, Ensign Slayton is down with a head injury and possible internal bleeding. I'm bringing him down to sickbay now." PO Stevens said as she nodded to Caboose who slung his rifle and helped Stevens get Slayton up between them and they started their way to sick bay.

<to be continued in "Hangover Hotel">

BACK POST (october)

"Honey-Pot of fire Part 6 of 6"

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe - Engineering
Lieutenant Commander Ethan Suder - Chief of Engineering
Commander Karyn Dallas - Chief Counsellor

(This takes place while the Galaxy is undergoing the refit)

Ethan turned away so that only half of him was facing them. He was still staring at the wall, his jaw clenched and eyes watering ever so slightly. His blood was beginning to boil as he fought back his own demons and emotions. He swallowed hard and looked at Karyn. He took a deep breath, discretely and kept very still. "Yeah." He managed to say, more of a whisper. He turned around and looked at the wall for a moment, gathering his thoughts and sorting himself out as it were. He then turned back around, jaw unclenched. "She was in the exact same place, doing the same thing.." He trailed off and straightened his uniform. "I've been down there a hundred times though, never seen anything, never. Felt anything!" he almost snapped. He tried his hardest to make out why this would be happening to Dhani. Why wouldn't it happen to all Betazoids or telepaths, why just her?? It should have been him!

Dhani remained silent. She didn't know what they were talking about, but she was finding the corner of the desk far more fascinating. If she looked at it long enough she was sure that she would wake up. Somewhere on Earth perhaps, the transfer, the Galaxy, it was all just a dream, she was at home on Earth all tucked up in a nice warm bed having the most peculiar dream. She would wake up soon, really she would...

Karyn could empathize with Ethan, but she was also trying to keep an eye on Dhani. The very last thing she wanted was for her to run off again, to feel frightened, pushed out, an anomaly any more then she already did. "Maybe you aren't able to." Karyn suggested. She placed a hand on Dhani's forearm. "But we will get to the bottom of this, and everything will be ok. I want you to stay here and relax. I'm going to have the doctor monitor your vitals and I'll come by to check on you every few hours. Now, how are you feeling?" The tendency was to treat the problem and not the patient.

Ethan stood up and turned away, too thankful that the conversation had altered. He faced a wall panel and made it look like maybe he was reading something on it. But his eyes fell to just below the panel, to the wall. He drew in another deep breath and lowered his head. He hated feeling this way, yet at the same time he accepted it, maybe he was being punished for something. Dealing with it was one thing, talking about situations similar to it, involving Samara was not something he could handle. He wasn't ready for it and something told him he never would. No one on the ship ever mentioned her and part of him thought that was good. But every now and again, he wouldn't mind being reminded of something she might have said or done, just to hear it from another persons perspective. He clenched his fists and turned back around to face Dhani and Karyn.

Dhanis eyes flittered from the corner of the desk momentarily, nothing had changed she was still here with Suder and Dallas.

"I'm alright." Came her automated response. It was a lie, she really didn't know how she felt, physically, mentally, take your pick; she couldn't. Grabbing hold of the arms of the chair she stood up, "I would just like to get back to work." She told them.

She saw the look that transpired between Suder and Dallas, she didn't like it. She new what was coming, they were going to sign her off duty, again!

Ethan raised a hand and gave a nod. "All right." He whispered. He turned around and looked at the wall panel again. After a few seconds, he turned back and looked at Karyn for a few seconds before turning and looking at Dhani.

"I've got some work that you can do. Nothing heavy, but." he trailed off. The work he wanted her to do made him think of Samara again. Damn! His mind shouted out. Everything and anything just reminded him of her. Engineering, work, people, he couldn't do anything to get away from it all. He had tried when he was on Earth, but still.. You would have thought that after so many years, someone would have gotten over it by now. He stepped over to his desk and grabbed one of the many data padds. Walking over to Dhani, he hesitated before handing the padd to her.

"It's kind of important to me." The padd contained all information regarding the emergency Engineering Program, the Quick Virus and some other technical data. "The program has been offline for a long time now, I've been trying to get it back online, but I've had no luck yet. So if you want some work, this should keep you busy for a while." He stepped back and slid his hand along his desk as he moved around it.

Taking the padd from him she felt numb still. Could she really concentrate on work at the moment, she had expected them to reject. But Dallas hadn't said anything yet. She looked at her waiting for her response.

"Dhani, are you sure this is what you want? I don't want to make you feel like a prisoner or a lab rat, but I'd completely understand if you're using work to avoid facing this. If you'd like to just rest for a bit and talk to me later, that's really just fine. If you're going to work for a bit, I'd ask that you be paired with someone else in case you start feeling ill again."

"I would rather be alone counsellor." She said. She felt like she was running on automated pilot, just saying anything to get away. But she knew that she couldn't run, she had to show that she wasn't crazy. In truth she was using work to avoid the situation. But something told her that she had to get away, she just had to.

"Is it alright if I work on this from my quarters?" she asked Suder.

Ethan turned to Karyn and cleared his throat. "If she's being monitored from Sickbay, then we'll know if something happens. Let's just give her some space, some time." He suggested. He was no Counsellor, but he could see it from Dhani's point of view. He would want to work as well and he wouldn't want to be locked up in Sickbay. He turned to Dhani. "You can work on it from your quarters, just check in often." He looked at Karyn with a raised eyebrow hoping she would agree.

Dallas sighed. "That's fine with me. Sickbay will keep us informed of any changes, but I'd like you two to let me know if you need anything. Don't hesitate to call if you need me." She turned to Eshe. "I know you're not crazy, Dhani. We will figure this out together and I will help you any way I can. Try to relax as much as possible."

Dhani nodded to the counsellor and then to Suder before walking out as quickly as possible. 

"Objective In View"

(APCs and NPCs)

LOCATION: Sakaria

Gary walked down the road at a fast pace. He knew who he was going after now. Someone from the Rebels. He didn't know who, but from sources and piecing together clues, he narrowed it down to them. It was his suspicion anyway. Why they chose his daughter, who wasn't even allowed to fight when she was in Star Fleet, was beyond his understanding. Until he made them explain that it.

And he would make them tell him. He'd use the tactics they used on their POWs. One of which was Nara. The shape she was in after she and several others were rescued was abysmal. It took two weeks for them to recover. They lost an elder. He wasn't really a leader, but people in that village came to him for wisdom. The rebels weren't Sakarians. They were down and dirty cruel people as far as Gary was concerned and they should be exiled to the Klingon Empire where they would understand REAL pain and battle.

It was night and everyone was sleeping. He walked into the small tent and saw Allas on the mat on the floor. He cleaned himself and laid beside Allas and put his lips to her cheek, causing her to stir toward him. She opened her eyes looking at him, "Welcome home, Imzadi."

He smiled, enjoying the moment with her. He sat up followed by her and he looked at her, "I need your help."

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

Hours later, Allas sat in a room and looked at Gary. "I still don't understand."

Gary hushed her with a kiss, "Trust me. Just let their thoughts.well you know how to do it."

Allas gave him a look. "I know how, but I'd also like to know why."

Gary sighed. He knew she didn't like using her telepathy, "Do you like hearing me say trust me?"

Allas smiled, "I'd rather hear I love you."

"I love you." He kissed her again and turned to the door.

He then walked out of the building and met the Ruyel on the path to the building. "I'm glad you came."

The Ruyel shook his head, "You have something up your sleeve Commodore."

"Don't I always?" Gary joked.

Both faces turned stern as they entered the building. They had to put on the act of Commodore and Ruyel. Friendship was left at the door.

"Did He Just Say.?"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell, Engineering
Saia (APC)

LOCATION: Trill

After seeing Saul leave, Nara turned to her little friend. She bent down, holding Saia by the shoulder and spoke softly, "You can't call me by name ok?"

Saia frowned, "What can I call you?"

Nara laughed, "We've been fine so far without me having a name or speaking." Her voice got solemn again. "Which, after we leave here, I can't talk again. And." Nara frowned as she removed the pips Saul just placed on her collar. "These have to go somewhere else." She wasn't sure how much a clue the pips would be, but she wouldn't take the risk. She pinned them toward the back of her inner shirt.

Saia watched her, "Congratulations." Saia wasn't sure what a lieutenant was or why it was a big deal, but that man and Nara seemed happy about it.

Nara smiled, "Thanks. We better get going now." Nara stood and started walking, but seeing Saia not follow, she swept her hand toward herself as a signal for Saia to follow.

Saia pouted, "Can't we just stay here where you can talk?"

Nara frowned, "I probably shouldn't be talking now." Something hit Nara. She bent down and Saia went to her, "You're people aren't telepathic are they?"

Saia gave her a look, "Tel a what?"

Nara shook her head and sighed, "Never mind. It was just an idea. Until I realized we have telepaths from the Galaxy here." Saia's look demanded an explanation. Nara smiled, "Later. I promise when all this is sorted out, you'll see my face and we can really talk. For now, there are people who need our help."

Saia nodded and they walked in silence on the way to the tent. After leaving the alleys they weren't so secretive. She smiled watching Saia. The little one was an orphan, had just learned her trusted friend wasn't who she thought she was, but here she was acting like a kid, picking up a stone here or there and jumping over twigs and splashing in puddles for no reason other than to play.

Nara's mind wandered back to the encounter with Saul. She let her feelings emerge. Warmth came to her in that moment she talked with him. A look crossed her face as a word caught in her mind. "Suitor." Saul had said "this suitor never came empty handed." Was he referring to himself as her suitor? It was an old fashioned term, but it always held the same meaning: A man who liked a woman and was trying to get her to like him. ~Well,~ Nara thought, ~It wouldn't take much.~ But Branwen. Weren't they dating? She was about to get furious at him all over, when Saia started running.

Nara looked at her and realized why. They were almost there. The big tent was in view. Nara sighed. She placed all that drama in the back of her mind as she bent to pick up a stone and threw it a few feet to the side of Saia. Saia turned and looked at her. Nara held her palm up for Saia to wait.

Saia frowned, "Well hurry!"

~You better be glad I can't talk, you little squirt.~ Nara grinned as she intentionally slowed her steps, but seeing that Saia wasn't finding it funny, hurried on to the tent and wait about eighteen hours for time to see Saul again. She would save the stuff about suiting for when they were back on board and she could properly bash his head in. After a few weeks. He deserved a few weeks of peace for saving her life.

"Unwanted Karma"

(takes place directly after 'Unsanity in the Stars')

Ensign 8-ball Hunter

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening."

"You keep saying that," Azra said. Her voice was high pitched, obviously scared, but not frightened enough to not be annoying. That seemed to be her best quality. "It won't change anything."

"Oh, REALLY?" 8-ball said sarcastically. She knew that since she was the adult she should be acting better than this but it was too much. Being stuck with these orphaned kids. . .not having any words of wisdom. . .trying not to kill them for being children. . .somehow being appointed their temporary legal guardian. . .and now the fucking SHIP was being attacked? Who had she pissed off in her last life? What kind of shit could she have done to stir up this much unwanted karma?

"I hadn't realized that the sound of my voice wasn't the all time fucking power of God," 8-ball continued, unable to keep quiet. She was chatty when she was nervous; she was also irritable, jumpy, and likely to give any Tourette's patient a run for their money in colorful vocabulary. "If I had realized that, I wouldn't have been so annoyed when I asked out loud for ten tons of latinum only to find that none had magically appeared around me. God, I've been so blind."

Azra opened her mouth to retort but Kaden's tears turned into loud wailing. "Please don't fight," he cried. Azra shut her mouth and glared at 8-ball.

8-ball closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them, because when you're running down a corridor with two orphan Trill children and pieces of bulkhead falling down around you, your success in not dying is severely limited with closed eyes. "Look," she said. "I'm sorry." Her voice didn't sound very sorry but she was trying here. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I shouldn't have. I just want to get you two somewhere safe. Okay?"

Azra continued to glare at 8-ball while she ran for a minute and then finally lowered her eyes to the floor. She stopped moving for a minute and 8-ball, with Kaden by her side, stopped so suddenly she almost fell over. "Azra, we have to keep moving."

"I know," Azra said. "I just wanted to, you know, say sorry for being so, um, well. . ."

"Azra, we can say all of our sappy little apologies and heartfelt grievances to each other later, when the ship isn't being attacked and when everything's safe again, okay? Let's get moving."

Azra nodded once, closed her eyes, and opened them again, purposefully not looking at 8-ball. Tears were starting to stream down her cheeks. 8-ball felt like a heel. She also felt impatient because she did not have time for this.

8-ball took a step towards her. "Look, Azra," she said. "I know I'm not very good at this; I'm not very good with, I mean, I'm just. . .Azra, it's----"

Another blast rocked the ship and the conduit on the wall exploded. 8-ball flew forwards, conscious only of Kaden's hand in her own, pushing him under her body to keep him safe from any falling pieces of ship. She collapsed on the floor and didn't move for a minute. Everything seemed to be moving around her, swaying violently as if the Galaxy was on a space roller coaster ride. When her dizziness passed, 8-ball got slowly to her knees and lifted up Kaden. He was still crying but didn't seem too hurt.

"Are you okay?" she asked him. He nodded, crying too hard for tears. 8-ball turned around to ask Azra about injuries when she saw the Trill girl lying on the floor, unmoving.

"Azra!" 8-ball crawled frantically over to where the girl lay face down and rolled her gently on her back. Azra's eyes were closed. There were blood trickling down her mouth into her hair, and burn marks all down the side of her face and body. 8-ball blinked, almost too shocked for thought. The only thing that went through her mind was detached, cold. ~The burns are too extensive. They're too much~

8-ball blinked and snapped out of her reverie. She shook the girl, first gently, and then harder, as if she could somehow shake her awake and healthy and unburned. The logic was bad, even for her. Disturbed mothers probably thought that way when they shook their infants around and dropped them on their skulls. It was the best thing for them; they were only trying to help.

8-ball shook her head, trying to clear it of the strange thoughts. She felt a little dizzy again, and her head hurt pretty bad where she had hit it on the floor. Along with the shock and just being unreliable and weird in general, she probably had a small concussion. None of that mattered. 8-ball shook Azra again.

Azra's eyes fluttered open once, and then closed again. 8-ball shook her again, more gently this time. "Azra," she said. "Azra, it's me. It's 8-ball. Wake up. Wake up."

Azra's eyes opened again. This time they stayed open and attempted to focus on 8-ball's face. "Hey," 8-ball said. "It's me. It's 8-ball. You remember? You remember me?"

"Of course I remember you," Azra said weakly, her voice not much louder than a whisper. "I'm not dumb."

8-ball started to laugh. It was only then she realized that she was crying. The tears were falling fast and landing on Azra's burned shirt. Behind them, Kaden sat staring, almost unable to move, it seemed.

"No," 8-ball said. "No, you're definitely not dumb." She could feel herself starting to hyperventalite and silently told her lungs to shut up. "Okay," she said. "Okay. This is what we're going to do. I'm going to help you get up, and we're going to get to sickbay, okay? We're going to get you all better." 8-ball got to her feet, brushed back the moment of intense dizziness, and pulled Azra's hands. Azra cried out, lifted slightly, and fell back down. 8-ball's dizziness came back and she found herself on her ass without realizing that she had fallen.

Azra was curling up slowly, her body trying to move itself into a fetal position. "I can't," she whispered. "I can't get up. I can't move."

"Of course you can," 8-ball snapped at her and got back on her feet again. "Come on. I'll pick you up and carry you." She swayed on her feet again.

Azra's tears slid down her burned cheeks, and she started to cry so hard she was having trouble breathing. "You. . .you can't. . ." Azra managed to say. "You can . . .barely. . .stand." She tried to push herself up again and whimpered. "I can't. I can't. I'm so scared."

8-ball got down to her knees, closed her eyes, and scooped Azra up in her arms. She stood up, slowly, and didn't move for a few minutes, letting the ship move around her in quick, erratic circles. She opened her eyes, almost hoping that when she did Azra would not be hurt, that the ship wouldn't be under attack, that everything was back to normal and nobody was depending on her. She looked down at Azra's burned body and knew it was a dumb hope. Nothing went back to the way it was. That was the ultimate, unwanted karma.

"I'm so scared," Azra whispered again. "I don't want to die."

8-ball swallowed, took a couple steps forward, stopped, and took a few more. Kaden walked slowly beside her, his eyes too wide for his face, terrified and alone. 8-ball worked her throat a couple of times and said, "You aren't going to die. You're going to be fine. I'm going to get you to Sick Bay and you'll. . .you'll be fine."

8-ball knew as she said it that she was lying. It sounded like a lie, lousy and frightened. She wanted to be able to lie better, to strengthen her voice, to make everything really sound like it was all going to be okay, like happy endings really happened and these dark moments in life were just that. . .moments, things you get through because you live through them. No one ever dies in times like these; they're just moments to be overcome. 8-ball wanted to be able to say this but she knew better, and ultimately, she just didn't lie that well. And Azra knew it too. Azra could see through the lie. She didn't ask 8-ball to tell her the truth. She didn't want to truth. She wanted to believe the lie. Any lie. A lie that she was going to get better, or a lie that when she died, she'd make it to some beautiful place where her mother was waiting for her, some place where they could be happy and safe for all of eternity. Any lie at all would do, as long as it sounded real.

But 8-ball couldn't do it. She just couldn't make her voice sound strong. She wasn't strong at all.

"You're going to be fine," 8-ball said again, and it was just as unconvincing as before.

And none of it helped Azra's fear or pain before she died.

"family bonds"

by Turan Trelar, Quentite "Ambassador"
Meena - old age Trill woman

Trill, planet surface. A ruin near ground zero ...

Meena wiped the sweat of her temple. The dust covered sleeve of her tunic left tracks of sand gray mud. Meena didn't mind. She was too tired to care about. There was so much work waiting in front her. Somewhere beyond her feet covered by a giant pile of rubble, her grandchild was waiting for her. Probably her Button-nose was dead - she didn't even dare to think about.. Probably the little girl was injured - severely injured, unconscious or frighteningly waiting for help, for her grandma to take her, comfort her, smile at her. Thinking at her sweetheart made her gain new power. She was strong - for an old Trill woman. After eight hours of digging and removing large pieces of bricks, concrete or furniture there was not much energy left. Even a well trained young man would have been exhausted, would allow himself a rest. Meena didn't - not before Saia was found. Meena took another piece of concrete, tried to lift it up. It was heavier than it looked. Or perhaps she was weaker than she thought. The old age woman lost her balance and fell. With shivering arms, she tried to get up. Her left knee was bleeding - she didn't cared. The giant alien next to her dropped the stone he was lifting. Carefully he took her by her elbow and supported her.. Meena looked up at him with sad but thankful eyes. "Come on, Ma'am, allow yourself a rest" recommended Turan. The elderly woman shook her head. "I can't. I know she isn't dead. She is alive. I ... I ... I can't leave. Don't send me away." She replied with a broken and fading voice.

"OK, ma'am. " agreed Turan. Even without any experience in counseling Trills, Turan knew that any attempt to keep the old woman from searching would be futile. He offered her a bottle of clean water. "Have a sip of water then let us go back to work. Probably you want to tell me who we are searching for."

The Trill grandma took the bottle, opened it to drink. Turan turned around and glanced at the tricorder. There was still a single life sign - less than five meters away. The life sign was fading. Whoever was buried under the rubble wasn't in a good condition. Turan decided not to tell the old woman about.

ROGUE: "You trecherous son of a b*tch!"

A RARE JP WITH:

Lieutenant Commander James Lionel Corgan

Chief of Security, USS Galaxy

AND

Ensign Zeke Wikkins

Security, USS Galaxy

Location: Shield Generator Unit 5-B, USS Galaxy

Coming inside one of the many shield generator stations on the Galaxy, James was introduced into a world of clanging, beeping, and poor lights.

The ship was flickering after the unshielded hit minutes before, and the Galaxy was still smarting from the sucker punch. Power in this section was held on by gossamer thin threads of technological fortitude, and it did not include the lights. Flicker, flicker, buzz. That repeated pattern of noise with the clang of machinery and crackling of burnt circuitry, added with the etherial ghost calls of energy circulation. A room like this could be its own dark hell in a pitched fight. James did not want to be here.

But here was where his quarry would most likely be. T'lan joined James, short of breath after checking the other shield generator rooms. They both had no backup but each other. The rest of security was fanned out thinly among the rest of the crew or planetside on the humanitarian mission. They were alone and that was how it would stay.

"Sir..." T'lan whispered breathlessly, caught in a cool Vulcan awe at what they were seeing, "There is more to this than a single torpedo hit. Look at the panels..."

T'lan was correct. Vulcan observation, and Corgan's practiced eye, could see burned out panels caused by phaser fire.

"Saboteur." Corgan agreed. "Where the hell are the engineers?"

"Surprised, most likely. They would not expect an attack from within. One of our own... a security officer. Logic would dictate that one with access to major systems, the armory, and yet still have a low enough rank to be overlooked would be ideal."

Corgan nodded, "Someone on the patrols. Did they find out who set that trap in security?"

"Unknown, sir." T'lan advanced first into the generator room, tiptoeing without a sound. Corgan than followed, covering the upper deck while T'lan led the way. "No prints. No DNA residue."

"It was too crude." James shook his head in disbelief, "Our cameras would have picked up someone at the armory drawer leaving the tricorder and the phaser. This was purely a shock and awe tactic. A quick disruption, a last ditch effort before escaping. Anything from the sensors and cameras?"

"Not yet, sir. We are understaffed. Nobody has been able to check the computer banks yet."

"Dammit." Corgan muttered a curse under his breath. They needed more personnel now! But with the ship on alert and in a battle, there was no chance to bring re-enforcements. What they had already counted as a skeleton detatchment; not nearly enough for his liking to sweep the ship.

As they advanced forward, Corgan saw beside a thoroughly destroyed console the bodies of two engineers. He signalled T'lan to cover him; and as she did so James scrabbled to the corpses. Two human engineers in jumpsuits, a male and a female that he didn't know, were dead from phaser wounds. The charred halo of flesh from the phaser strikes were directly at their chests.

"Dead." Corgan waved T'lan off, speaking to her in a hushed whisper, "Keep looking around. I don't want to break up, but we don't have time. Take the left area, i'll take the right. Watch yourself. The saboteur is one of us."

"Aye, sir." T'lan confirmed. Her flashlight aimed to the left, blocked off by once thrumming shield coils that now laid dormant. She disappeared into the dark, a Vulcan shadow without a sound.

James went his direction without a noise. A ghost himself, he used eyes and ears where his tricorder could not be reliable. The chaos of the ship in its pain spasms was background noise, like all his other battles on board ship, like everywhere else. Background noise, while small details amplified.

He wanted to catch the saboteur for personal reasons. A traitor during his watch was unacceptable, and the fault being his own as much as the traitors, demanded that it be corrected. For his pride. For the safety of the crew. For the lives it could save and the vengeance of others who were too late to spare. Commander Thomas mocked him, the ship, the crew while the Galaxy was helpless in space. Thomas dredged up his only sparse memories of Corgan, of the days where he was a soldier and nothing else.

Thomas wasn't privy to the days where James improved himself. The days that saw him earn his accredidations, the day where James earned his Lieutenant Commander's pips. The days where he lost much, but gained so much more. His confidence, his ability to lead, the trials he had to endure to grow wiser happened on M'Kantu and Brhode's watch. Though he was far from perfect and made mistakes, James could say with authority that he had grown.

He wanted, more than anything, to prove Commander Thomas not only was he far from the manic depressive sociopath from the past. If anything, Thomas' behavior shown that James was the one sporting better temperment.

James vowed that by the time this was over, he was going to show the traitor off to Thomas like a war trophy, and let it say what he felt.

A beep. Small and tinny, but it was there, from one of the consoles. From its distance, a command and control console. One that could access other ships systems.

He crept to the console, peeking fromt he corner to not be seen.

The console was flickering, but still alive. Beside it was the body of a security Ensign. Jamie Macaroy, one of the few left to patrol the ship.

Ensign Macaroy had a partner. It was standard procedure. James knew who he was. He was the one that organized the patrol schedules.

"Oh my god..." Corgan shivered, "You did this... oh Christ... oh Jesus f**king Christ..." He reached for his badge, talking in a harsh, hurried whisper, "Corgan to T'lan, it's..."

It was then that James heard a phaser discharge. A second later, T'lan grunted, her weight bumping the walls and scraping the grilles.

"Sh*t!" Corgan bolted towards the phaser fight, "You trecherous son of a b*tch!"

Zeke Wikkins reached down and snapped off the Vulcan's flashlight. He had taken the woman by suprise and was fairly certain she would not keep him from getting to the nearest escape pod, but with a Vulcan, one never knew if they were unconscious, dead, or in the grip of some sort of healing trance.

He remembered Thomas' orders.

:: Take no chances. If they are in your way, kill them. Except for that Streely fellow. He was always a pain in the ass, but he was entertaining. ::

He pointed his phaser at the Vulcan's head, his thumb on the trigger...

...And heard the whine of a powering up phaser from behind.

"That's quite enough, Mr. Wikkens. Hold it right there." Corgan commanded with the conviction of an order from God, grim as death. Wikkens froze, not dropping a shadow covered item in one hamlike fist, the other holding a phaser trained at a slumped over T'lan.

Corgan's Vulcan deputy snapped out of unlife, her breath raspy and choked, her face knit in pain that tested all of her dicipline. Even in the shadows, T'lan was clearly wounded, above the breast and below the collarbone laid a cauterized phaser wound that stunk of burnt flesh and leaked blood the shade of an unripe tomato. She was looking up at the mountain of a man known as Zeke; at his mercy was it not for James holding the same razor thin hold on his life were he to vanquish the Vulcan.

"I am... alive... sir." T'lan gasped, a spasm of pain wracking her body.

Corgan answered angrily "You better be T'lan, or i'd have to kill this son of a b*tch right here and now, I swear to God."

"Brother Corgan, this is the Will of the Most High. I do not expect thee to understand, however I ask that thee stand aside. I harbor no ill will towards thee." Wikkins rumbled, not moving one muscle in his body.

"Cut the self righteous crap, traitor. Come along peaceably, let me show you to that goat shagging son of a f**k Thomas, and we'll send you to a nice penal colony to be... rehabilitated. If not..." Paused James, his finger flicking on the higher settings of his phaser, "Well... you killed fellow officers. You just shot an officer in your own department, killed your patrol partner! You earned MY ill will, and only conventions on prisoner treatment are preventing me fron doing anything about it!"

The mammoth Security officer frowned deeply.

"It is unwise for thee to hurl such sinful accusations at my father." he revealed. "He has never to my knowladge admitted to any consorting with farm animals. Besides, a sheep would have been a more appropriate choice for your blasphemy.

~"Father?"~ Thought the security chief, his guard slowly lowered. Zeke looked nothing like Commander Thomas, like comparing a powderpuff to a slab of concrete. Corgan didn't know the Commander well, but knew he was incapable mentally of fathering anything. A man of his maturity... impossible! The thought couldn't formulate into a plausible explanation.

"Bullshit!" Corgan silenced Wikkens with a gutteral hiss, "Commander Thomas was rejected every week. I know, I had a direct tap on the grapevine when he was our first officer. No way he could have..." The thought violated every cell in James' body, "...mated...with another... woman. Ehhhhhhuhhuhuuhuu."

"It is possible. My father was once upon shore leave attending what he called a "male bonding festival" with a man named Churchill. My mother, sinful jezebelle that she was, was some sort of camera woman. She was impressed with the way my father looked in his, what did she call them, "Arabian Goggles". She said she wanted to get him to "play for the other team." and got pregnant from thier efforts. She sent me to live on Earth with my new family. She never mentioned my father. I never knew the man until recently when he came looking for me. He showed me the Way. I must honor my father. It is my God's path." he said.

"Honour thy father and thy mother." Corgan quoted.

"Correct." Wikkens said

"Does 'thou shalt not kill' mean anything to you as well?" Corgan trained his phaser to the direction of Zeke's head, "You helped kill thousands, and directly killed three officers, and you're putting us all in danger. It's as much hypocricy as... a man from a pacifist religious sect joining Starfleet? No matter, you're done for, Mr. Wikkens. You'll have to answer not only to your god, but to your peers as well. Are you ready for that?"

"I forgive you, Brother." Zeke said - sounding somewhat genuine. "May thee bask in the glory and light of the Most Holy."

His right hand then opened and a flash grenade tumbled to the floor, exploding with a blinding burst of light nearly instantly.

The hulking Amish officer moved with a speed and grace that he had yet shown and buried his shoulder into Corgan's midsection at full speed, sending both men sprawling onto the floor.

Feeling the rush of air forcibly removed from his lungs, James also felt the rush of pain as Wikkens shoulder punched into him as they impacted into the ground. Their bodies tangled together, but James lost to momentum. Zeke's arms grappled with his body; with James arms barely prepared for a resistance. His phaser spun out of his reach. He tried kicking but wasn't connecting anywhere. Zeke had James in an efficient wrestling hold, his biceps crushing out more strength, until James ears flooded with a liquid sound and Zeke's muscles pulled tight like ropes.

T'lan tried to move despite her wounds, standing up and coming towards combat.

"T'lan... no..." Corgan gasped and coughed, "...The shields... hurry!"

It was then that James head reared back, catching Zeke by the bridge of his nose. Zeke's grip relaxed and James wormed out of it. T'lan dragged herself to the consoles.

"Mr Wikkens... you goddamn bastard..." Panted James as he slowly picked himself up.

Zeke charged again, recovering faster than James. Corgan meet the charge by ducking down, lashing his foot out faster than a mongoose. His legs scissored Zeke, sending the brute and all his massive bulk into the wall. By the time Zeke pushed himself up, Corgan was already in a fighting stance, his eyes set in a cold blue glow.

"Your father has a very low opinion about me." Corgan growled, feigning an attack, "What he doesn't know is that I'm better at what I do now than I ever was when he was aboard."

"He was disappointed in thee. He said it stemmed from thy not wanting to blow up a space station some time ago. He couldn't concieve how anyone would object to abuse of a corpse. Plus, thee never invited him to any of thy holodeck music gatherings. He likes thy hair, especially now, but he says thy are nothing more than an unstable weapon. Useless without the proper master."

"No..." Said James, impassionately, "I'm a soldier. Back then I was a damn good killer. Ironically, I became much better during peacetime. You can surrender... better chance of living."

"I will rage on you with the fire of my wrath and I will deliver you into the hand of brutal men, skilled in destruction." Wikkins quoted, "Ezekial 21, verse 31.The Lord has spoken through my father not unlike Abraham. I am the hand of the Most High. I must not fail in my mission. I regret that there is no other way."

Resigned, Corgan sighed, "So be it."

Screaming out a hell bourne battlecry, Corgan ran after his opponent, catching Zeke off guard in the process. He swung his fist expertly, a straight punch that twisted at the last foot, powering into Zeke's abs. The giant gasped as a trickle of blood escaped his lips. Corgan followed up with a palm strike to the jaw, followed by a backhanded knuckle scrape that sounded like a firecracker to the head of Zeke. As Zeke stepped back, feeling the stinging of his face and the blood on his tongue, James and and succeeded a powerful snap kick to Zeke's chest, right at the breastbone, sending Zeke slamming into the wall again.

But Zeke didn't stay down for long. Before James could hit again, Zeke pushed off the wall and caught James' throat, forcing James into the next wall and slamming him repeatedly. The chief of security's fingers dug into Zeke's arms, but his grip didn't lessen. James punched his jaw again, but Zeke did not let go. James clawed and raked... Zeke did not let go.

Corgan kicked Zeke in the stomach, and he did let go. Coughing for breath, James scrabbled along the wall and towards his weapon.

Wikkins grabbed him by the hair and the back of his uniform and hurled him in a great arc into the bulk head. The Security chief, still dazed spun and was able to land a quick kick to Zeke's groin. He followed that up with 2 quick punches to the face.

The blows didn't have much behind them with James on his back, but they were enough to stagger the bigger man and allow Corgan to get back on his feet.

He darted to the left as Zeke charged wildly with a clothsline and landed a sharp blow to the back of Wikkins' head that dropped the man to his knees.

Corgan moved in with a powerful soccer kick in mind but the massive officer caught his leg deep under his left arm and then hammered James' chest with thunderous right hands.

Trapped this close to the much stronger man, James could feel himself begin to black out as Zeke relentlessly hammered at his chest and head.

His vision grew hazy as the Amish officer pulled back for one more punch only to see a short phaser blast slice through the dim light and clip Wikkins in his chest, ruining his combadge and rendering his right arm useless.

James sprawled on the floor, to catch his bearings and he could see the Vulcan, T'lan had managed to crawl over to her phaser and fire at the bigger man.

"I told you..." Corgan hacked a trickle of blood, "...the shields..."

"Done, sir." T'lan holstered her phaser, in favour of cradling her wound, "We are safe."

"Not for long. Macaroy had neural restraints. Get them. I'll take care of Wikkins."

Wikkins could sense the end was near so he raced down the hallway to a comm unit and keyed in the access codes he had memorized. He fell to his knees, clutching the keyboard for balance as the screen came to life and Commander Chris Thomas ghasped when he saw the condition Zeke was in.

"My son?!?! What has happened to you?!?" he cried out.

"Father....help..thy son." Wikkins gasped.

*****

Meanwhile on the DIIS...

"Zeke... son?"

Commander Thomas was in the middle of a gleeful cacklefest, swatting aside the Trill defenses while toying with his former ship with a reckless abandon, the proverbial cat with a hunted mouse. So long he waited for revenge that the pleasure of his little hunt was an overload for his already unbalanced synapses.

But then he saw his son begging for help.

"It's ok my boy." Commander Thomas soothed, as the brute of a man on the other ship leaned on his console, his face dwarfing everything else on the viewscreen as there was nothing but darkness and spark showers to illuminate, "Help is coming... we'll be right there. Hold on."

"No father... the shields... are up."

A pit formed in Commander Thomas' stomach, and it threatened to crawl up to his throat, grappling hook and all. He glared at his first officer.

"Our shields are up, Commodore." First Officer Patun replied with his usual blank look upon hi sface.

Commodore Thomas wanted to explode. Had to explode! The urge was overpowering. Destroy Trill, destroy the Galaxy, destroy even his own failure of a son! It bubbled up on him like a red hot hate, until his eyes saw red and his fist became sore from hammering his captain's chair.

"Father... help..." Zeke pleaded.

"My son..." Thomas wept.

Zeke's face disappeared in the darkness as his head was grabbed by a shadow. Then it reappeared again...

And again...

Into the communication screen.

The audio device picked up every minute scratch and snap as Zeke's head was repeatedly slammed into the screen, adding the wail of an out of focus microphone jarring every listening ear on the bridge. The screen shook at every hit, cracking until every bridge member flinched, fully believing Zeke's larger than life head would come crashing through the rapidly spiderwebbing glass at the last hit. Blood trickled the screen, Zeke bellowed in pain, and another grunted as he tried to keep a desperate Zeke under control.

The man in the shadows then threw Zeke into the console, making it crack one final time, sending a final squeal of interference and a momentary blurb of static.

The man in the shadows came closer, side by side, head to head of a glassy eyed Zeke, his hand holding a fistful of Zeke's hair to keep him upright, and within view of the screen.

"Mr. Thomas..." Grumbled the deathly, bloodstained visage of James Corgan.

Thomas gasped, jumping back from his captain's chair with a quiver. He was looking at James Corgan, the officer he mocked, thought little of before...

Staring back at him with baleful, wintery eyes that promised so much he didn't like.

James Corgan spoke, "I found your miracle. Without him you're f**ked. But I don't care about him now. What I care about is you... the man who knows so much about me, yet the same person I didn't give two sh*ts about when you were the first officer. Pathetic..."

"He served his purpose, and besides that, he reminds me of that drunken whore of a mother of his. They were both built the same. Keep the little bastard.He did what I wanted and as a bonus he made a monkey's ass out of you. Tell me Lt Commander Monkey's Ass, do you really thing I give a good god damn about anything you have to say? You who..."

"Be quiet." Corgan said dispassionately, looking down upon Commander Thomas like he was lower than dirt, "If I were you, I would leave and never come back. Pray you never see me again, and upon failing that... pray for death. It will be the easy way out."

Corgan nodded his head in shame, "Goodbye, Mr. Thomas. I now know who the better man is."

And with a harrumph of disgust, James shut down the communications channel with Zeke's head, letting out another ear splitting wail and permanent static on the DIIS' viewscreen.

Back aboard the DIIS, Thomas fumed. He turned to Patun who was absentmindedly scratching himself.

"Guess who's Coming to the Dogfight?"

Part 1 of 3

Yet another damn fine Joe Ammo post (in 3 parts), featuring MYSTERY GUESTS AND WRITERS (yes more than ONE!)

*First person to guess the MYSTERY WRITERS gets a Leo Streely Action Doll. (anatomically correct!)

Time: Moments after "Revenge of the toilet paper!" by me.

Location: Space, above the planet Trill

The Breen fighters swooped towards the USS GALAXY. As soon as the last one of the rapacious looking, deadly fighters cleared the hangar bay, the DIIS brought up full shields. She slowly peeled out to starboard, as the threat indicators on the GALAXY's bridge screamed alarms.

"Evasive Maneauvers!" the Captain ordered.

"Oh shit!" exclaimed LT Anna Nonomus from behind the Tactical Arch.

"Lieutennant, report!" barked out M'Kantu.

"WEAPONS ARE NOW OFFLINE! INTELL DATABASE STILL SHOWS US AS A THREAT FORCE! SHIELDS ARE STILL OFFLINE!!!" screamed Nonomus, as the Threat Board literally exploded into a red glow bathing her in a crimson glare, her average looking face now flushed an unbecoming red and looking like an Irish Fishwife.

"ENGINEERING, I need shields yesterday!" demanded M'Kantu.

=/\= "Bridge, this is Ensign Slayton. I've got the shield's computers rebooting and it'll be less than three minutes till you can have them back in full. Slayton out." =/\=

"Helm, hard turn to port!" M'Kantu barked. The hapless officer in the Helm seat let their fingers fly across the board. The Graceful lines of the GALAXY turned slowly on her maneuvering thrusters, impulse engines groaning with the demands being put on them, as she slid slowly.... to Starboard.

"It's not my fault!" wailed the Helm officer. "I put in Port! PORT!"

"It's almost like... Thomas has jinxed the Galaxy somehow!" mused K'lod, the portly Bolian Engineering officer, from behind the Tactical arch.

"Silence! Thomas has not jinxed the Galaxy somehow!" barked out M'Kantu, his mind racing through all available possibilities, until it hit him.

"Remember Kirk and Khan!" barked M'Kantu, "Computer! This is Darren M'Kantu! Serial number 1-900-123-4567. Commence with computer override of USS DIIS' computer, authorization code Alpha-Omega-Seventeen-Hike! Lower her shields. Let's see if we can't take control of her without even firing a shot!"

==Unable to comply== responded the flat monotone of the computer.

"Why not?" demanded the Captain. "This is the USS Galaxy, the finest piece of hardware in Starfleet!"

==Dude...== moaned the computer.

"What the smegging hell is that thing talking about? Why can't we re-gain control of the Galaxy, force the DIIS to lower it's shields and blow it all to hell? " Lt. Nonomus whispered from the Tactical Arch.

"Smegging? Is that even a word?" asked K'lod.

"I found it all through the old Tactical Logs. It seemed like some older members of the crew were unable to make a log entry without using it seven or eight times." Nonomus responded.

The comm screen shimmered back into life. Commodore Thomas gloated from his command chair, smirking like a cat who has been eating all the cream. The smugness was almost tangible.

"Oh, did you find one of my little surprises? You little precious ship not obeying your every whim?" the Commodore smirked. "Of course I thought you might take the fracking OBVIOUS ploy of aping that painfully repressed fellow James Tiberius Kirk! Fools like you are so predictable, I bet you never ever even considered learning the Vulcan Death Pinch, like I can do!"

Thomas reached towards the screen with bent fingers, then pulled back at the last moment.

"-That- is how predictable you are! You won't find the Remote Access codes for the DIIS anymore. Now as far as the Galaxy is concerned, it would be dreadfully tacky of me to use that tired and hackneyed ploy to defeat you! Or... would it? Fire." he yawned.

Phaser strips flickered into life on the DIIS and shot across space to savage the hull of GALAXY. The ship rocked under the assault. Lt. Nonomous fell backwards and hit her head. Bosco, the Catain tactical officer slipped into her place.

The Federation and Breen fighters were locked into a fierce dogfight, and two of the GALAXY's defenders were vaporized in the barrage.

"Sir! Major Blockage and Lieutenant Grade, Jr. from Alpha Squadron are gone!" snapped the Flight Ops officer.

"Oh my Gawd! You killed Kenny Blockage! Damn you!" said a groggy Lt. Nonomous from the floor before she passed out completely.

"Thomas, how did you gain access to the USS Galaxy's computer!" M'Kantu demanded peevishly.

"Well, let me see. Oh yes...hold on. Fire." Thomas stifled another yawn and brushed imaginary lint from his uniform, as yet more phaser fire raked the hull of Galaxy.

"YOU BASTARRRRRRRRRD!" hissed Bosco.

"No, I'm pretty sure my father knew my mother." countered Thomas. "You want to know how I captured the computer of your pretty little piece of shit? It's simple, I thought even you fools MIGHT have possibly glimpsed the solution to your yammering questions. Maybe I overestimated you dolts?"

"You slipped a pawn into the crew! Some stooge to do your nefarious bidding!" The Captain replied.

"True, I did and you'll never find him... but I also had an ace in my hole." Thomas admitted. "I kidnapped someone you all know and love, and I forced him to help me. Who better to help me gain control of the computer of USS Galaxy than..."

Pregnant seconds ticked by.

"Who?" demanded the entire Bridge Crew of USS GALAXY

"Oh wow, was , that like my cue?" demanded a voice off-screen, to Thomas' right. A vaguely familiar, shaggy head of hair loomed into the picture. Strapped to the head was a pasta colander, festooned with odd bits of wire and biochips, a sonic screwdriver attached to a hypersonic spanner and pieces obviously from a quadcorder and what looked suspiciously like a pocket sized nuclear fusion accelerometer clamped to the top.

"Hi. Hey like, you're not the same guy I met before, are you? Totally bitching hair though. " the stranger said to M'Kantu. "Whoa! You look just like Morgan Freeman! That dude in the Matrix? Or was it Willi Wonka? I get 'em confused."

"Who the hell is that?" demanded M'Kantu.

The stranger peered at Commodore Thomas. "Him? Wow... like ...are your neural pathways all scrambled or something? That is so cool! Listen, I know you're confused, what with your scrambled Neural net and all, but I heard him tell you he was Commodore Christopher Kell Thomas! If your neural pathways are all scrambled with, like totally bogus amounts of streptomycin, can I interest you in, like my injecting you with these totally rad little nanobots I invented last week? No wait, it was the week before, because it was right before I solved the question 'Do trees think?" Which was like, totally heavy man. Because there are these crazy trees on Mytus Seven that DO think, and which like, totally threw my hypothesis out the window! Anyway, because if like, your brain is all messed up and stuff, my Nanobots can like, totally unscramble them for you. Trust me, it doesn't hurt a bit. Okay, that' s lie because it hurts a lot! But wow, what a rush when they're done!"

"WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT?" bellowed M'Kantu, his patience finally frayed.

"I dunno, He told you he was Commodore Thomas, and then he was ranting a lot of stuff...I dunno dude. Frankly he harshed my buzz and I tuned out. I have a lot of stuff going on and a lot of things I'm worried about. Hey, got any plankton chips? I have the worst case of the munchies..." the stranger rambled on.

"Don't you recognize...DR JEBEDIAH QUICK?" screamed Thomas. "He single-handedly designed the re-fit of that piece of crap starship, and got thoroughly underfoot during your last upgrade when you ditched the PPC cannon. Bad move by the way. It was his genius that allowed me to seize control of your computer, and make you dance before me like the monkeys you really are!"

"Never heard of him." admitted M'Kantu.

"Dr. Quick? Where? That guy is totally cool!" enthused Dr. Quick, leaning in to peer around the Galaxy Bridge, onscreen aboard the DIIS.

"Why do I bother taunting you jackasses. BREEN FIGHTERS! KILL THEM ALL!" screamed Thomas.

"Heavy and harsh! Dude." added Quick, before the screen blanked out again.

OOC: OH NO! DR. QUICK KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO HELP THOMAS IN HIS NEFARIOUS SCHEME!!! BOSCO BACK AT THE TACTICAL ARCH! WILL OUR HEROES BE ABLE TO THWART THOMAS MAD PLAN?

"Guess who's Coming to the Dogfight?"

Part 2 of 3

The near CLIMAX of our little tale! Featuring still MORE thrills, chills, and guest stars!!!

Time: Moments after "Guess who's coming to the dogfight? Part 1"

Location: Space, above the planet Trill

The DIIS sat there, smugly bloated like some sort of carnivorous toad as the pinpoints of energy floated serenely away from her forward launcher.The last two torpedoes slipped past the frantic fighters, and bracketed themselves on the defenseless USS Galaxy. Like the avenging hand of some deity, they sped implacably towards the hapless ship.

The GALAXY's hailing channels cackled for a moment, some sort of interference affecting the relay. A blurry image sputtered onto the Main Viewer, clearly Commodore Thomas on the bridge of the USS DIIS, but some sort of interference was jamming the signal. Various bands of interference sputtered and distorted the image, and it finally popped and crackled it's way into semi-coherence.

:::::Is this thing on? Dammit, I told you peons that I wanted to say something to them before my big moment! Oh, they can hear me now? Dammit Quick, whatever you're doing to that console, stop! Hello USS Galaxy, you load of useless douche bags! This is Commodore Christopher Kell Thomas talking to you, from inside your pitiful little heads. I have a message for you. DIE YOU BASTARDS, DIE! You'll go to hell with the name of Christopher Kell Thomas emblazoned on your stinking souls!:::::, the voice of the madman sputtered out of control as flecks of spittle and foam flew from his oddly distorted mouth.

"I don't have to listen to..." M'Kantu began to reply.

Implacably, unrelenting the photon torpedoes drifted past the last fighter chasing them in vain pursuit, closer to the USS Galaxy.

"Torrrrpedos arrrrre still hot." Bosco called out.

"Helm..." M'Kantu started.

"Evasive maneauvers. I'm already on it." Savoie called out from the helm chair.

Back on the DIIS, Dr. Quick was scratching his head.

"Umm.. like, their ship will never withstand that barrage. Dude, you didn't like, tell me you were going to use them on the ship! I know GALAXY wasn't like, my best work. Hell, I designed the re-fit more to piss off people than thinking they would build it! I mean, I looked into the Stardock and was all like whoa! Jumping Jeohosphat! Holey-Mooley!" So like, if we blow it up, that would like, suck. Sort of. Hey! Can I build something else from the wreckage? Because I remember this totally rad door on Ten Forward which would look sweet in my lab. Blow it up!" commented Quick.

"I know!" gloated Thomas, over the shifting subspace band.

"Dude, why is your subspace all funky like that?" demanded Quick.

"Funky? I don't know the meaning of the word Funky! I thought you did something to it!" sneered Thomas.

'Wow, it's almost like...as if someone was in a ship with an illegal Dolman cloak nearby and the ion flux regulators were like, messing with our subspace. Or if a bunch of Pakleds were doing your maintanence! Hey, why haven't those torpedoes blown them up yet?" Quick mused.

"What? That's impossible! I thought you said you had modified those torpedoes to run faster and explode harder! Why is this taking so long" Thomas shrieked.

"I did! At least I think I did! Hey, did you see the shift in the subspace interference? That was so cool! I wonder what did that? Look at the pretty colors! You'd need a pretty big ship to run that kind of power generator...OH! Unless there's a sun going supernova nearby! What are the odds, that a sun goes supernova the EXACT second we're here nearby? This is so cool!" Quick meandered.

"WHY IS THAT PIECE OF CRAP STILL THERE?" Thomas shrieked, pointing at the USS GALAXY.

The torpedoes were zeroing in on the still moving USS GALAXY... like they were about to deliver the long-delayed deathblow to the old Girl. Despite the decades of use and the heroics the ship had seen...despite the myriad cast of crew who had strode her hallowed halls... it looked as if the GALAXY was about to be blown into pieces.

The torpedoes sailed nearer. Time seemed to stand still, as the eternal light of the cosmos blazed down on the tableau. After countless light-years, USS GALAXY was being put to sleep. Like an old, overtired racehorse, the ship's well-deserved, long rest was finally here.

M'Kantu looked around at his Bridge crew and sighed. They looked so young, so hopeful, so innocent. Even the veterans, those who had served under Price and Bhrode, they looked like children. He was so tired, so worn from his admittedly brief stint as Commander of this ship, he had no idea how Bhrode and Price had borne it for so long.

The last sounds they heard was Christopher Thomas' cackling laughter, as the torpedoes seemingly struck empty space rather than the hull of USS Galaxy. The torpedos exploded upon impact in two cascading trails of light and then faded into nothingness leaving the USS GALAXY unharmed.

"umm, that was like, totally not supposed to happen. Or ...was it? " Dr Quick mused out loud, three seconds after the impact and explosion of the torpedoes.

"Weapons and shields will be back online in minutes, and we will have norrrrrrmal operrrrrating status." reported Lt. Bosco from the Tactical Arch, as he straddled Anna's crumpled body.

"Stop rubbing on her like that!" commanded M'Kantu, grimacing at Bosco's antics in the last few moments of life. "Someone tell me what happened!"

Meanwhile, aboard the DIIS, Thomas was in a blind rage.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL THERE? GAAAAAAAALLLAAAAAAAXXYYYYYYYYYYYY AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" screamed Thomas, as he shoved his face right at the video input.

Then, a new voice interrupted the comm. linkage.

It was a voice that hinted of naked steel.

Raspy and as deadly sounding as a nicked and well-used blade being drawn across a whetstone, it seemed to ooze out and hang there as deadly as a threat.

=/\= "They are still there, you pissant, because no one was dumb enough to trust your ignorant assed, slipshod plan. This turd of a plan was the biggest piece of crap I've ever seen come out of your filthy, distended rectum." =/\=

"Who dares..??" sputtered Thomas.

A shimmer occurred in the space-field before of the USS DIIS. It was a shimmer that the DIIS' first officer, the Breen known as Patun knew quite well, having seen it before.

"Klingons!" Patun shouted, wishing he would have been able to fight -someone- before being blown to space dust.

"SHUT UP, FOOL!!!. When I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you." Thomas cried.

Slowly, the form of a PROMETHEUS class battleship materialized into view, as the comm. screen split and a grizzled face appeared on the GALAXY's screen.

It was a face the Galaxy crew had seen before, usually in countless nightmares

=/\= "This is John Q. Bhrode here, and yet again, I have to drop what I am doing to come here and save your asses, so you folks can scamper home to mommy and have some hugger-time!" =/\=

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH FIRE ALL TORPEDOES! BLOW THEM BOTH UP!" screamed Thomas.

Patun mashed the keys on the tactical display then reported: "Weapons won't fire! And the shields are down!"

"WHAT?!?!?! THEY CAN'T DO THAT!! THAT WAS MY PLAN!!! MY MOVE!!!" Thomas whined.

The USS ZEUS just sat there, looming over the DISS, now as helpless as her former prey, the USS GALAXY.

=/\= "Well, well, well. COMMODORE Thomas. You naughty little fart knocker. Did you really think your ship was going to do your dirty work?" Bhrode purred. =/\=

"What...who..how...?" Thomas sputtered ineffectually.

=/\= "Look, you eunuch. Starfleet Intelligence knew that you'd hang your fool self, given enough rope. It wasn't until after that confusing mess with the USS AKULA went down, that we put two and two together and found a dingle berry named Thomas dangling at the ass end of it all." Bhrode barked. =/\=

"But... the information I got from Quick.." Thomas whined, his beady eyes darting from side to side.

=/\= "Quick? Dr. Jebediah Quick?" Bhrode snarled. "Number One, Number Two, do either of you know a Jebediah Quick?"

"Errr.... Number One chose this moment to smegging well go Number One." Lysander quipped, to Bhrode's right as he lounged in the USS ZEUS' XO's chair, one leg draped negligently over the leg.

"Seeing Thomas again make me want to evacuate my bowels, especially when a dolt like him gets the better of a Starfleet officer." snarled Bhrode, eying M'Kantu and Thomas with equal distaste. =/\=

"You!" screamed a hysterical Thomas, stabbing a finger at Lysander VanderPuls-Hawksley.

=/\= "Hello! Long time no smegging see! Hey, when did you get promoted?" drawled Lysander, as he fingered his Commodore's bar self-consciously, "Captain, shall I have Major Log prepare a boarding party?" =/\=

"You can't get Marines on my ship! Dr Quick do something to my shields! I am invincible!" Thomas ranted, his face bulbous and florid.

=/\= "Whoa! Like, wow! This is so cool! What shall I do to your ship? I have like a list of things that would realine that things chi in shuch a positive way!" =/\= Dr Quick asked, from the the seat on USS ZEUS opposite Lysander.

"You made the shields... they...shields...you...you... hey!" Thomas sputtered, clearly confused, looking at the Dr Quick on the USS ZEUS and the Dr. Quick seated to his left on DIIS. Both were identical, right down to the colanders on their oddly shaggy heads.

=/\= "Oh, did I mention that Colonel Saladin Bolivar from Intelligence has kept us appraised of your every neurotic twitch, aside from sabotaging your little plan every chance he got?" Bhrode drawled. "Pretty sneaky of him to switch places with the good doctor here. I believe it was when you were in the male bathhouse with your scurvy carcas wrapped in..what was it again Colonel?" =/\=

"Kelp, sir. Beruvian, I believe. And it was my pleasure." Bolivar smirked, dropping the 'Dr Quick' act he'd been forced to assume for this period of time. On DIIS, the 'Dr Quick' pointed a concealed phaser at Thomas and smirked even harder. "Please twitch, I've been dying to do this to you for weeks now." Bolivar purred.

=/\= "Transporter room, would you please be so kind as to beam Colonal Bolivar and that rumpled piece of foreskin next to him aboard this majestic ship? Foreskin can be deposited directly into the friendly confines of CELL 4 in our spascious brig." =/\=

As Thomas felt the familiar tingle of the transporter begin to take effect, he shouted final instructions to Patun.

"PATUN! ATLANTIS!!! ATLANTIS!!! KILL THEM ALL!!!"

"Guess who's Coming to the Dogfight?"

Part 3 of 3

The GRAND CLIMAX of our little tale! Featuring still MORE thrills, chills, and guest stars!!!

Time: Moments after "Guess who's coming to the dogfight? Part 2"

Location: Space, above the planet Trill

*( Also included are exerpts from Pat's "Wrong planet, asshole!")

"PATUN! ATLANTIS!!! ATLANTIS!!! KILL THEM ALL!!!" Thomas had screamed hoarsely as he was being forcibly taken from his ship.

Thomas had drilled many of the details of his plan into his lackey. One of the facets he covered was what to do in the event of an emergency. The former First Officer of the USS GALAXY had called it ATLANTIS. The emergency protocol to be instituted in the event his plans didnt work out.

With the GALAXY still operational, Junior captured, and Thomas in the hands of Bhrode, things really had not worked out.

And so it was that Patun hopped in Captain..excuse me...Commodore Thomas' chair and called out the Commodore's final order....

...and the DIIS began to move.

MEANWHILE...

The Breen fighters were taking heavy losses against the Galaxy's Vanguards, who were clearly the superior pilots in the match. Of course, from the way they flew, they certainly weren't Breen. Breen had much more of a groupsense than these pilots did. it looked like someone had taken a dozen academy dropouts and put them at the conn of those craft. Of the original squadron, only five remained.

The orbital defense satellites were firing relentlessly at the now moving Diis, phaser beams and torpedoes flying at the nimble Akira-Class starship from all angles.

As the USS GALAXY worked to rapair themselves, the Vanguards came up on the Akira-Class starship, their strafing run bouncing shots of the DIIS' weakened shields. She was

starting to take a real pounding from the defense nets.

Her point defense phasers lanced out, striking Vanguard Three and knocking it's shields out.

One Flight and Three Flight came in one after another, their pulse phaser battering the ship's dorsal shields, eventually lowering them in the target area.

A small string of explosions ripped across Diis' hull. She surged forward, firing once again

on the Galaxy for a moment, and then ceasing, it's sudden change of coarse was now evident.

It was on a course for the USS GALAXY.

ABOARD THE USS GALAXY...

=/\= "M'Kantu, I am fully aware that I am no longer Captain of your ship, and far be it from me to tell you what to do..but if I were you - something I thank my dear sainted Mother every day for not being a reality - I would crawl up my engineering staff's asses and get the hell out of that flying shithouse's way even if it meant making someone get out and push." =/\= Bhrode said.

"Im not going to get out and push. That is forrrrrrr surrrrrre." Bosco said with a shrug.

The GALAXY Captain, more than a little annoyed, ignored the old man and the Catain. He opened a channel to the Vanguards.

"This is the Captain. The DIIS must be stopped. I'm wide open to suggestions and miracles."

=/\= "Rodger, Galaxy." =/\= Corran Rex's voice could be heard.

The Trill pilot could be seen maneauvering his fighter into a new attack position.

"Engineering to Bridge, Shields up in 60 seconds."

"We may not have 60 seconds." M"Kantu said."Give me everything you have."

ABOARD THE USS ZEUS....

On the bridge of the USS ZEUS, Brhode watched as the small fighter arced through space and took an obvoiuus kamakazee coarse towards the brige of the Diss.

He chuckled and then turned to Lysander.

"Number Two, it appears that someone has grown a pair of testicals on that ship. A small bud, but a set of testiocals nonetheless. And as loathe to say it as I may be, I never saw this coming from any of them. It is moves like this that seperate warriors from whiners. When that man is sitting around his fireside with his snot nosed pants pissing grand kids bouncing on his artheritic knees, when they ask him what he did on the almighty Galaxy, he won't have to say he shoveled shit in the waste replimats. He can say he kicked some ass."

Lysander bowed his head slightly.

"You should concider recording that, sir. I found it somewhat inspirational."

"I do not keep you aboard to state the obvious, Number Two." Bhrode chastized as the fighter plowed into the bridge of the DIIS in a brilliant explosion.

BACK ABOARD THE USS GALAXY...

"My god..." K'lod breathed as the Akira-Class ship lost all power, plasma fires burning on the decks that had been exposed to space. Engineers everywhere all seemed to mourn the passing of a starship. Maybe it was because they spent more time with the ship then they did with actual people. Perhaps it was because they appreciated the work it took to have so many parts come together and work in unison.

Whatever the case, his reaction to the destruction was one being shared by many on the bridge.

The ship would be salvageable, maybe. After that part of it's primary hull was rebuilt.

It would no doubt have to be towed to some spacedock.

Corran had just transported aboard the bridge of the GALAXY in time to not only see the brilliant explosion scattering across space, but also the aftereffect of his labors.

"Shields up. Phaserrrrrrrrrs active again. All systems online." Bosco reported.

M'Kantu nodded. Apparently the demise of the DIIS also wiped out the "Quick Virus" that had been loaded aboard the ship via Ensign Wikkins. With the Galaxy once again operational, the Captain felt conciderablly more at ease.

"Mr. Henderson, have our fighters take a position around the DIIS' hanger bay. I want them to detain any escaping craft. Beam the pilots directly into the brig. Use the tractor beams to reel in any life pods."

"Aye sir." the Galaxy's first officer replied, snapping to work.

"M'Kantu to transporter room, I want all survivors beamed off the DIIS and directly into the brig. Coordinate with LT Commander Corgan and Sickbay if need be." the Captain ordered, pauseing when he saw a few quizzical looks on the faces of some of the crew.

"We are Starfleet. We save lives. Those men were simply following the orders of a mad man. This battle is over. We now tend to the wounded." he said then turned his attention to Corran Rex.

"Probibly not something one learns at the Acadamy, was it?"

"I was running out of options, Sir." the Trill pilot replied.

"Effective, nonetheless. Good work. Go ahead and get cleaned up. Mr Bosco, please inform the USS ZEUS of our status. Also, let this...Bhrode...know that we would like to transfer prisoners as soon as possible."

NEXT: The EPILOGUE post!!!

OOC: This officially wraps up the mission. The last post . the epilogue, will be posted late Monday Evening.

Enyone with anything out should try to start wrapping them up. As a heads up, we will be laying over at Trill for a month of game time (per Ian) so don't feel as though you need to rush anything. You can always work on stuff during the free write period.

RPG OOC:

Although this *is* a backpost, it is legit (as I understand Ian's memo on the matter), since Tish is not on board the Galaxy at this time.

BTW, if you listen to this song (see the song info at the bottom), you'll get a feel of the 'energy' that is fueling T'Shani at this juncture in her life. Powerful, man.

-- MJ

" Phoenix , Part V"

T'Shani Akledorian

--

Now we are dying,
dying the slowest death!

No more condemnation,
we fight for one last breath!

And it begins anew,
the burning we endure

As we seek the strength,
strength to break the bonds

Break the bonds!

Break the bonds!

== Stardate 48905.14 (Sixteen years ago): Raath Mountains , Seltax VII ==

She was fighting.

~Why am I fighting?~ a piece of her mind questioned. ~What purpose is there in it? Why not let it be done?~ it simply asked, as the cold and the darkness crept in. In a sense, it was right, perhaps. Why *not* just let it all be done? The pain--physical and spiritual--was almost too much for a twelve year-old girl to handle.

~They're gone,~ it whispered to the rest of her mind, like a madman screaming at the masses on a street corner, trying to convince the world that the End Had Come. ~They're gone, and there's NOTHING you can do!~

As if to prove it's point, it opened the memories of her brief life, flashing through them slowly: the smile of her Khiib-mother, her Thuub'a's gentle yet firm hands...getting faster...climbing the large Zhek tree in the middle of her clan house's compound, wrestling with her six brothers...faster...swimming in the cool waters of the stream that ran behind the compound, lying under the stars...faster!...running off with Tron to see the G'huna late at night, the terrifying sound of aerial disruptor blasts punctuated by the green explosions of energy, watching her Khiib'a being raped and tortured as her Thuub'a was helplessly forced to watch before being savagely killed by the Greenbloods...faster!!...her own rape, through terrified eyes, the attack on the Romulan encampment, escape, fighting the Romulan over the waterfall...FASTER!!!...and...and...and...

~What? Where am I?~

~Give up, it's done!~

~Thuub'a, Khiib'a? Where are you?~

~NO! They're dead!~

~What?! NO!~

~It is done; be done with it! Let go~

Immediately, her senses returned to her small, broken body: a jolt of coldness, a heaviness binding her chest, aching and numbness at her extremities...where *was* she?

~Dying, dying...you are dying the slowest death,~ it teased at her, knowing she was near helplessness.

But not yet...

~Tinis!~ her mind snapped back, recognizing the voice of her father, her beloved Thuub'a. ~Tinis al sharith Shani, FIGHT! Fight for your life, for our memory, for A'Akledor!~

"Thuu--" she tried to form the words, but as she opened her mouth to call out to her father, it was filled with something heavy, cold, and...wet. Water! She was under water! This realization immediately reactivated the repressed senses of her body, as if someone started turning on the circuit-breakers in her brain.

~NO! GIVE UP!~

~Shut the Fuck up!~ her mind screamed back at the dissenting voice. She wasn't going to die, not now, not ever!

~Fight, Tinis: FIGHT!~

She tried to move her arms and legs, tried to command them to do *something* to get her out of her current predicament, but they were uselessly numb from the water's cold.

~I *can't*,~ she wailed plaintively in her mind, the small frightened girl starting to overcome the inner strength she had just tapped into.

~Yes, you can. You are reborn, here and now. You will carry-on, my little one. You are not alone; never alone.~

For a brief moment, she could have sworn that she could actually feel her Thuub'a's strong arms hugging around her, lifting her up. She craned her neck, as best she could, to look up, seeing a bright light beginning to grow above her head, the refraction from the water giving it an almost heavenly halo-look.

"Breathe life; you are not alone, my little one."

== Stardate 50503.04 (The present): Undisclosed Location ==

A blond-haired orderly peeked her head into the waiting room. "She's coming out of it, now. Doctor Kleiner says you can see her, momentarily," she reported to the two men seated.

"Very well," the older one said, dismissing the nurse. Rising to his feet, he stretched his arms above his head, stifling a yawn in the process. "Mister Daniels, care to join me?" he asked the younger man.

Daniels, looking up from the holopad floating in front of him, nodded once, switched off the device, and rose to follow the other man.

"Mister Seven--"

The older man waved his left had dismissively, as they rounded the corridor. "Please, just Gary ."

"Gary, are you sure that this is a wise course of action? What if the Aegis..."

Gary stopped in the hallway and turned to face the Daniels. Again, he was taken by the future-man's interesting features. More and more, he was suspecting that "Agent" Daniels was not entirely human. He quickly shook the suspicion from his mind, focusing on the present situation. In an almost fatherly manner, he clasped his left hand onto Daniels shoulder.

"My benefactors, if you remember, are not known. Not at this time. You would be careful to keep mention of them to a minimum, if at all, Agent Daniels."

"Yes, yes, of course," he replied, realizing his mistake. He had forgotten that they were still unknown in this century.

Gary continued, "Don't worry, if she is the one--as you suspect--your little crisis will be negated early on, correct?"

Daniels sighed, then nodded. "Yes, of course."

Gary smiled a tired, understanding smile. It had certainly been a busy couple of days for the two, regarding their new agent. "I think we should give our newest recruit a visit, don't you agree?"

Daniels nodded, straightened, and once again followed Gary into T'Shani's private recovery room. Inside, a nurse was checking the overhead vitals monitor, while Doctor Kleiner--the chief neurologist recruited for the purpose--placed two small silver disks on either side of the Andorian woman's head, right above the temples. He briefly looked up as Gary and Daniels entered the room. A moment later, the nurse finished her rounds in the room, leaving the three men standing over T'Shani's bed.

Gary tried not to look at her. There was just something that didn't sit right with him; and every time he looked at the young woman lying there, he somehow felt guilty, as if it was *his* personal fault that she was there.

Daniels, quite the opposite, quietly surveyed her face. She looked peaceful, at rest. Eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, antennas drooped over the sides of her face.

"Gentlemen, the procedure is a success. She will make a full recovery, and be ready for duty by tomorrow morning."

"Why is she still unconscious?" Gary asked. If she truly was recovered, why was she not awake?

"To preserve plausibility, Gary . We decided it was best that she have no memory of her stay here," he motioned to the disks on her face. Gary came to the realization that they must be some sort of neuralizers.

"And you couldn't just erase that, too?" Gary asked, almost sarcastically.

Doctor Kleiner stepped forward, stemming what he thought might be the beginnings of an ethics debate between the two agents. Clearly, Seven still had reservations about the operation. Though Kleiner could sympathize, it wasn't his concern. He had performed the operation without flaw, and without endangering the woman's health, either. "Gary, we only modified what was needed. Over the last few days, her mind has been--in effect--healing itself, re-cataloging memories, emotions, and--in some cases--reliving them totally. This is normal, as the brain acclimates itself to the CNI implants. We felt that a simpler, *less* invasive procedure, using the neuralizing probes, would be a better alternative."

Tiredly, Gary nodded. He hadn't meant to snap. Besides being tired, he had been genuinely worried for the woman's health, and the stress was beginning to show. He *was* too old for this game. "Very well. Agent Daniels, do what you have to."

"I will, Gary ."

Turning to leave, Gary stopped as the door swished open. Slowly turning back into the darkened room. "Keep her safe, Daniels. She's our only hope."

"I know."

<TBC>

--

From dust you were born,
into the ashes you return

From dust you were born,
into the ashes you return

Breathe life,
for you are not alone

Breathe life,
inside your heart of stone

--

Lyrics from "Breathe Life"

Performed by Killswitch Engage

From the album "The End of Heartache"

Back Post – 2381 December

“Selection Number Nine”

Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe

(Set straight after Honey Pot Of Fire Pt 6 of 6)

**Crew quarters level 8 USS Galaxy**

Dhani walked into her quarters. Her mind was still numb, not processing a single thought. She looked down at the data padd that Suder had given her. Hoping that the distraction would make everything go away. As she stared at the padd her eyes glazed over, not even they wished to process data.

Tossing the padd on to the glass table Dhani took a pew on the couch. Salem trotted out from under her desk and reappeared quickly at her feet, brushing up against them, showing her his support; she barley noticed him!

Sitting on the couch Dhani stared into space. Trying so hard not to remember yet her brain was still trying to rationalise what she saw and felt. And the information that it didn’t happen.

~Why me?~ Dhani question herself, ~First Quinnten and now this…..!~ Her only consolation over the Quinten incident was that it did happen, she corrected the temporal incursion so everything returned to how it was, how it should have been. But at least everyone else remembered, not just her.

But now she was stuck, remembering events she could swear blind happened; she was in the EPS conduits, she *was* everyone knew that. She was modifying the EPS grid, again everyone knew that, it was on the job board. Suder ordered her to do it! He talked to her all the way through….. And then it blew, the entire section she was working in blew up!

It did!

She felt the blast wave, it burned her….

But then there were no marks. The medical report confirmed that she was in severe shock but there were no physical injuries…..

But why would she be in shock if nothing happened?

Something did.

She could still feel her skin crawling as the fire enveloped her, still smell her burning flesh, hear and feel the conduit explode.

Dhanis entire body shook vibrating the couch; she held her hands over her face as the tears pored down her cheeks. Her shoulders jerked and she let out the occasional wail. All the while Salem pawed at her, trying to show some comfort.

After what seamed like hours, Dhanis exhausted body slanted to one side, half lying on the couch. She hitched up her knees and curled up into a foetal ball, all the while sobbing. Her red puffy eyes stared up at the ceiling, glazed over.

Quite unexpectedly the door chime ran; Dhani sat up on the couch startled. The room was dark only a faint glow from the stars illuminated it. Standing up she walked over to her door as the chime rang again. Tapping the release button it opened with a quiet hiss.

She stared dumfounded at the figure before her. Her breath caught in her throat and she was unable to speak. For a while that was how they stood, in complete silence.

She could feel her knees shaking and feel her heart pounding in her chest,

“Wha…..how…?” she questioned, “I…..you….” was all she managed as the figure took a tender step towards her.

She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, “I, I, I….!” she stammered half sobbing against his chest

Her heart felt like it was swelling in her chest, she thought that it would burst but she didn’t let go, didn’t come up for air, just buried her self deeper into his chest, hoping that this moment would never end.

“You came back to me….” She finally compiled half a sentence.

Suddenly Dhani felt herself shaking. Opening her eyes she quickly raised an arm to shield her self from the light. Salem who was curled up next to her raised his head and yawned. Dhanis right arm was wrapped around a cushion so tightly if it was a person it would surely be suffocating.

“Lieutenant?” a voice said louder shaking her gently, “are you all right?”

Dhani didn’t answer.

“Lieutenant?” the voice said again with more urgency.

She squinted trying to see who it was, and then she recognised him. It was one of the nurses. What was he doing here, and where was …..? What was going on? Sitting up she looked around her eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room.

“Lieutenant Eshe?” the man said again.

“What?” she croaked out, “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You missed your check up.” He stated. “Are you alright?” he asked again.

Dhani nodded, still somewhat fazed, “Was I asleep?” she questioned.

“Why are you asking me that?” he replied as he produced a tricorder.

“Because I haven’t slept in a year.” She replied getting slightly annoyed ~and I don’t remember what it’s like~ she wanted to add. If she had been sleeping then he had just woken her up, how inconsiderate to wake an insomniac!

He sighed and began to scan her. ~Patients are so over dramatic.~ he thought ~haven’t slept in a year, pfh! That just means they have had a bad week!~

“Do you know how many patients claim to have not slept in over a year?” he asked her.

Dhani gave him a hard look as he continued to scan her.

“What?” he questioned his tone rising slightly, “want me to give you some sleeping tablets or something?” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

Clearly this man had met far too many hypochondriacs in his short time Dhani thought. “Do you have a copy of my medical file?” she asked him in a civil tone.

“Yeah.” He replied.

“With you?” she questioned.

“Yeah” he said in the same slightly peeved tone.

“Read it.” Dhani said trying hard not to bare her teeth.

He paused from scanning her to look up at her. His mind now ticking over the ‘why?’

Slowly he pulled a data padd from his pocket and began to read it.

It was interesting to watch him read her file. At first the expression on his face was one of annoyance, then it turned into a slight interest… her file must have had some highlights. And then came the ‘oh shit’ expression that Dhani was waiting for, followed by the back tracking… she could see his eyes clearly as he went back a few lines and read the same part over and over. The next part was the most amusing. The contemplation that crossed his face as he considered whether to apologise, pretend nothing happened, or to just get the hell out. Those professionals would have taken the time to apologise and to begin a rapport with their patients, this one was obviously too young and inexperienced to do such a thing. It would dent his ‘hard man’ image.

She watched him take a peek at the tricorder readings and then snap it shut. He didn’t make any eye contact as he pocketed both the padd and the tricorder. Standing up he mumbled some ‘all clear’ message and quickly left.

Dhani sat for a while just staring at the closed door, hoping that it bit his arse as he left.

Sighing slowly she stood up and wandered over to her desk. She wrote out a small, to the point, letter to sick bay and sent it. Not so much a complaint, more like a ‘send that p***k again and he wont be healing the sick for much longer’.

Rubbing her face and her eyes she walked over to her replicator,

“Coffee; white, hot, double sweet. And Cat food, selection number….” She looked down at Salem, “Which one boy?” she asked him, “number five?......No? Okay.” Turning back to the replicator, “Cat food selection number nine.” She ordered.

Grabbing the food she picked up Salem off the couch. Taking them both to the glass-top dining table by the window, she dumped them down. Returning for her coffee she stood and watched Salem for a few minutes as he ate, and then slowly crossed the room to sit at the table with him. She stared at the data padd that she had left there earlier, “I suppose I should start work on that hey Salem?” she asked him tickling his head.

“Slide it over then.” She said taking a swig of her sugar packed coffee. Picking up the padd she began to read.

Back Post 2381 December

“The EEH”

(Set straight after “Selection Number Nine”)

Lieutenant (Jg