"Breaking the Habit"

Kylar Curran, Chief Liaison Officer

Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor/Second Officer

****

Liaison Offices
Deck 17

[Kylar, we can't stress how important it is you be present at the functions.] The image of Natasha Mol, the Ambassador-General of the Liaison Corps, was framed along one side of the terminal communications monitor. On her right, Admiral Janeen Taneel was in her own letterbox. She'd been silent throughout most of the conversation, and Kylar guessed it was her intent to showcase the combined efforts of the two sections within the Federation structure as well as the sheer importance.

"I understand, Ambassador-General." They'd been discussing the details of the arrangement for Senator Omar's body and the state funeral being processed for it. "There will be an issue I will need your assistance in overcoming." His eyes transferred their focus to the Admiral, who had not blinked at his shift of attention.

"The recommendation of reduced duties is still on my file, Ambassador. Perhaps the Admiral could see to it that I am reinstated at my full clearance levels once again? My performance would be impeded if I had anything else."

[We cannot help you with that, Vice-Legate.] Kylar's brows furrowed, wanting to point out - rather aggressively - the mission they're placing on him will be sabotaged before they could even begin if his records showed him to be mentally unstable. The Rihannsu would treat him as nothing less than the village idiot, to be laughed at, and not trusted.

Admiral Taneel had broken the silence, and continued before Curran could interject.

[The Counseling Branch within Starfleet isn't under our purview. If they feel the recommendation of its personnel in the field are valid, then, like the Commanding Officer of any assignment and his Chief Medical Officer, we are unable to over-ride it. Else, the check and balance system against the Admiralty wouldn't be in place. We were able to negotiate a limited access pass to the functions, but you are not within your rights to negotiate on the Federation's behalf should it come to be. You are simply a Liaison Officer, a... gopher,] for the first time, her lips curled minutely in a smirk of disgust at the idea. [I have the firmest belief it was the work of the Hawk coalition that put you in this position, Vice-Legate. There is nothing else we can do from this end.]

[But you do have one option available to you, Kylar.] Mol took the conversation back from Taneel. [You can obtain the recommendation of Counselor Dallas to be re-activated.]

This took Kylar aback. "She is hardly supportive of me, ma'am's. We have a... history."

[Intimate?] Mol's eyebrow raised at the notion presented by the Admiral. Kylar thanked the gods silently that he hadn't been drinking anything. IT would be coating his monitor right now.

"Hardly. The animosity between us is professional in nature only. I cannot speak for her, but you can be certain I feel nothing but disdain at her own professional discourse."

[Then you'll need to resolve your differences, Vice-Legate.] Taneel responded tersely. [This is far too important a presentation to allow personal feelings get in the way of your duties to the Federation.]

Curran bristled at the notion his responsibilities and devotion to the UFP were called into question. Starfleet could really be dense. He couldn't understand how they won the Dominion War with such simple thought processes and lack of methodical analyses.

"I'll discuss it with her." He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check. Now was hardly the time to prove to them his mental stability may not be far from the truth. Even he believed the human side of his DNA was at odds with him just to drive home the point that the Terrans defeated them in the end, both during the Andromedan War, and when the advance team to the Alpha Quadrant was defeated. Kalinda - one of the Kelvans original sent here - had allowed her emotions to begin the descent into defeat. Her name was spoken with vile disdain in the presence of Kelvans.

[Good luck, Kylar. We'll be in touch soon.] Taneel's face blinked out first, followed by Natasha Mol's shortly thereafter. Curran was left alone in the dim light of his quarters, ch'Rihan hanging iridescent in the background.

It took him less than seven minutes to locate Karyn Dallas, and it hardly mattered where she was. Forcing down the bile and nausea that crept up his esophagus, he pushed onward.

****

Counseling Offices

He found her in her office, contemplating the planet they were orbiting, unable to shake the ghosts of missions past. It had been years since she, Lee Price, Elaithin Jii, and Kent Peterson had been relieved of their duties on the original USS Galaxy and ordered to go undercover on Romulus. But the spirit of Colonel Jarol of the Tal'Shiar, the identity of the deceased agent she assumed, still haunted her.

Colonel Jarol was unwavering in her cruelty, belittling officers at every turn, ordering officers killed or tortured as a matter of routine. She was such a forceful presence, so unlike Karyn herself in her malevolence, that to think about what she'd done made her shutter. She recalled feeling as though she was possessed by Jarol's ghost at times, doing things, thinking and saying things with such coldness, it chilled her. Back then, they had been fighting for the lives, fighting to play their roles flawlessly or they would be killed where they stood.

And then they were caught. Jii was tortured nearly to death, and somehow, it was over. They'd resumed their roles like nothing happened, not allowed to discuss their mission. Karyn shed Jarol uneasily, and months later, they were at lanjep, where things really went to hell.

So much had happened in the years she'd served in the fleet, and being here, on the Romulan homeworld was bringing it all back.

Her door chimed and interrupted her reverie. She jumped at the sound but at once was grateful for the distraction. "Come."

The doors parted, and the slender form of the Kelvan slipped into the rooms that had come to be thoughts of degradation to him. The very idea of allowing anyone into a person's thoughts and persona willingly was akin to being submissive. And that Starfleet had required it? Mind control techniques, and brainwashing their personnel into believing it was beneficial to one's mental health? It suspended belief.

Yet, he had been herded into this situation that he had no choice but to attend. His former counselor - Ammanlyn Lhywhyn, had left the ship abruptly, leaving his file with some minion that had insistently left multiple messages for him. He'd had more important matters to attend to, so he pointedly ignored them. He was able to take care of things on his own, hence his pilgrimage to Kelva II and the Caves of Reflection.

"Counselor," he stumbled on the words. He couldn't order her, as she wasn't in his jurisdiction. He also didn't want to alienate her, which was a thought resulting from his diplomatic training, but he could hardly plead with her either. That would give her the advantage and power placement in the conversation. Such a predicament. It didn't help that as a result of the internment at the Hydran research facility, his memories of her putting him to bed in his quarters came unbidden to the forefront of his current thoughts. That only caused his emotions to simmer in ire.

"I require my diplomat status reactivated." Short, clinical, and to the point. The fact that she did not respond immediately while staring out her port windows was not lost on him. She was playing the control game, right from the onset. He steeled himself for battle.

She turned around slowly, hoping that when she met her visitor, it would not be the person she heard. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Kylar Curran, the man who'd made no secret of his hatred for her, could not be seeking her voluntarily. Her eyes met his, and for a long minute, they stared at each other. Dallas had encountered him since he'd taunted her and left her beaten and bloody, happy to see that a drugged Victor Krieghoff had attacked her, and she had convinced herself she'd moved on. She'd had to. But he taunted her whenever he could...embarrassed her publicly, labeled her weak and worthless.

And all along, she had the power to bury him. The same pheromones that had induced Victor to attack her in animalistic lust and brutality had made Kylar Curran, the pompous bastard, the arrogant son of a bitch, her tormentor, a victim too. This time of an android sexual predator. She'd known all along, but not once did she think of using it against him...

Until now.

If she thought she could get away with it, she might have slugged him. As she stared at him as if for the first time since that horrible night, she realized she wanted to blacken his eye so it was almost swollen shut as hers had been the night he found her lying on the floor of Victor's quarters, Krieghoff's sedated body atop hers.

She was suddenly so filled with anger, revenge, thoughts of vindication, she almost couldn't speak. When she found her voice, she answered, practically shaking, "People in hell want ice water, Legate. I suggest you start there."

"I just crossed the threshold, Counselor. Are you offering me a beverage?" He refused to allow himself to sink to her level of a venomous dance of derogatory remarks. "In that case, I shall have a Altairian variation. Hold the toxins."

Karyn chuckled, low in her throat and tinged with anger. "I'm not offering you a damned thing. Whatever you've got planned to get rid of me, I'm not playing. Get the hell away from me or I'll have security throw you out."

"Did they teach this method of counseling during your tenure at the Academy, or is this something a recent published paper suggested you try on patients that will not bow to your whims willingly? It isn't like you to be intimidating. As refreshing as it is, I'm not here for counseling." Taking two more steps into the offices, the doors closed behind him, leaving the two alone to their admissions.

"Then we've got nothing to talk about," she snapped.

Taking a quick look around the offices for anything that could pose a security risk, and seeing nothing, Curran re-composed himself. This was not what he had expected.

"You are a therapist who does nothing but talk or listen. How is that won't do either right at this moment when we have quite a lot to discuss, our personal issues notwithstanding?" Just before she could respond immediately, he scanned and brought up the security roster on the PADD he always seemed to carry, before him. "If you call for Security, Krieghoff will be dispatched here. I removed him from any relevant duties pertaining to the Jem`Hadar, so he'll be the first one assigned here as you are senior staff, and he is the highest-ranking security officer not assigned to essential duties with our visitors."

He was trying to frighten her. He failed. "I've learned to forgive Victor. I've never forgiven you. And you've never let me forget, have you?"

"I don't understand, Counselor. Forget what? We haven't spoken since December, and that is one day I would rather not relive. Prior to that, we haven't spoken for months. It is you that won't let me forget. You brought this issue you currently have with me up first since I arrived. I have said nothing except stating the requirement from Starfleet Command and the Liaison Corps that my status be fully restored." The irony of the personalities being switched around wasn't lost on him. For once, he was trying to be rational, where she was putting up walls. It should be him erecting the defenses, not the one on the offensive. "Do you seek forgiveness from me?"

She was incredulous. "I haven't done anything wrong. But you, you laughed in my face the night you found me, the night you so coldly implied just now when you brought Victor up. Every chance you've gotten, you've called me weak, pathetic, useless, including in public. Every chance you encounter me, you look at me with disgust and barely contained contempt. And now you seek my help? *You* disgust me, Legate."

He clenched his jaws tight, tasting the copper of blood where he had bitten his tongue. She was pushing him to the brink. It was time to bring this charade to a close. There were more important matters to attend to. Without a word, he approached the divan, lowered himself into it, placed the PADD on the small table to the right, just beside something that he supposed was artistic, and clasped his hands together after leaning back.

"Get it out of your system, counselor, if it'll make you feel better. It won't change my opinion of you, but we need to get back to the matter at hand. Come, release your emotions. I won't interrupt. Let me play counselor, but I won't make any attempt to alter your impressions or individuality."

"She raped you," Karyn answered quietly. "She. raped. you. In your bed, in your shower. I found you. I helped you. I reached out to you. I watched you suffer, despise me, laugh over my bloodied body when you found me later that night. I never said a word to them. To you, when I could have humiliated you. When you continued to hurt me. Why did you do it?? Why do you hate me so? All I did was help you then. You laughed. You told me I was to blame for what Victor did? Why?"

"Fight or Flight" - Part 2

Branwen London XO,
Furies SFMC

Ella Grey
Asst. Chief Engineer

James Corgan
Chief Security Officer

Brian Elessidil
Asst. Chief Counselor

Cora Dobryin
Chief Intelligence Officer

Kylar Curran
Chief Liaison Officer

****

Deck 8
Intelligence Offices

The man in black at the end of the table in the darker vestiges of the room wanted to vomit. This was treading dangerously close to a group therapy session. Next thing they knew, the group would break out in campfire songs of a nature intended to uplift the psychological aspect. With Curran, the nutritional supplements he recently imbibed would be the only thing uplifting. This debriefing was a waste of his time, but... he decided to give it a few more minutes.

Ella wanted to sigh. She could start. She could tell them how she had been immobile, how she had felt them cutting into her extracting things. She could tell them how she had been scared, how it had hurt, how she had dealt with it all. Ella could make it easier on Branwen, who she could tell needed someone else to begin before she could deal with it.

But, frankly, Ella wasn't that nice. Let someone else start.

"I'm trying to make this as painless as possible yet I know it won't be painless," Cora replied gently, "We need this information to prevent it from happening again. Let us help you by getting what happened out in the open with those that experienced it." Hearing O'Shea's name bothered her but that would be dealt with in the other investigation her department had been tasked with.

"Why yes, every day this happens in Starfleet, doesn't it?" Kylar's face encroached upon the sliver of light that caressed his end of the table. His gaunt features and inset eyes betrayed the exhaustion he was sure his body should feel, but certain precautions prevented that for him. "Sitting around a table and talking about feelings and faded after-images is not going to resolve the fallacies of a shoddily run department. You had no clue about O'Shea, did you? And you are supposed to know these things first. Such faith you instill."

Pausing without giving the Kelvan a dignified response, Cora asked another question, "Did they say what they wanted from you? They had reasons for treating you the way they did. I want to know if they gave those away either by their indirect actions or by what they said directly to you or others."

Kylar's mind flashed images that had assailed him during the imprisonment, but he elected to not share these. His personal life had no bearing on the investigation of the shared events by all those in the room save the Betazoid counselor and the Intelligence Officer conducting the joke of a debriefing.

"I heard nothing, I saw nothing," Curran lied. "No one could be sure of any images they saw through the fluid we were embalmed in."

Elessidil knew immediately it was a lie, but decided not to press the issue at the moment.

"Bullshit!" Corgan snapped out, a hard steely glare at the Kelvan before snarling out, "I saw what I saw perfectly well! I won't have you say any different. Now grow some balls and say something, or I will."

He wanted out of this joke of a debriefing as quickly as could be attained, so the diplomat called on his skills to avoid giving in to the emotional rot that was humanity. Corgan had the intellect of a chimpanzee. Curran wouldn't be surprised if he up and peed on himself in the middle of the session. He wasn't about to give the Betazoid counselor ammunition against him, either. He kept his answers terse and to the point, everyone else be damned. "It was only when a Jem`Hadar raiding party launched an offensive on the station was I freed of the fluid, but still I am unable to offer any information for you. I was blinded for several minutes. I assume it was the nature of the fluid against our forced open eyes, but then again, I'm not a scientist or doctor. That is all I know. If you don't mind, I'll take my leave now. I've business to attend to."

Brian's first instinct was to let him go; he was very angry and it was obvious that he wasn't going to give them much of any use. But if they let Curran go simply because he didn't want to be here, then it would only be a matter of moments before the others followed along. The counselor gave Lieutenant Dobryin a look that clearly indicated he advised that Curran not be allowed to leave. This was her debriefing, and therefore it was ultimately her decision, but either way, Elessidil had already decided that he was going to meet with him one-on-one later, whether the Kelvan liked it or not.

"Tired"

Ensign Zev Raynor
Intelligence Officer

Why I never want to commit to doing anything...

Because I am never certain about the future. Because I am certain of the quality of the job I will do. Because I want the world to slow down... to be at ease instead of this mad rush everyone everywhere seems to be in for no reason. Because I don't want the pressure of having to try and keep it. Because it is painful to do. Because when I fail there will be only looks of disappointment in the eyes of those I made the promise to... Because I don't want to face harsh realities. Because I am weak of will. Because I am human. Because I lack the confidence in my own words. Because I rather be entertained. Because I don't want the responisblity. Because I'd rather just stop and smell the roses. Because I'd rather sleep, and perchance dream. Because I feel so wore... so tired. Because I'd rather live a carefree life. Because I don't want to be a liar, and make false promises that I don't keep. Because I just want to rest in the on the shores of paradise and not know the sins of man. Because I am burdened by conscience.

This is my trap... People force you to commit to things everyday... but when I refuse... when I hesistate... when I go against the flow and stand still in the stream you me wear down eventually. You start out as a rough jagged rock that breaks the water trying to flow past it, then time and pressure and flow take their toll. I become wore, smooth, tired... barely noticed by the river of time.

---

Raynor had read what he had written so long ago... so much had changed, and yet so much had remained the same... he never truly commited himself to Starfleet, but he had no commited himself against it either.

This part of him had been brought up when he was first applying for Battle school, as a child in the Coven. To become an officer on the field some felt, needed more firm commitment to any act... Despite his obvious brillance and pyshical prowless, the review board were worried about this part of his mentality. Eventually they decided to take a chance on him, though they kept a close eye on him. An officer without ambition, they felt was dangerous... but he had a survival instinct which seemed to produce the same effect in command.

Why did he feel so tired now? He looked out the window...

Romulus...

He had a strange feeling about the place... he had been there twice before... once as a child coming up on his teens... the other a few years ago... but each time he had been there it was as the Lieutenant Zev Raynor - Ronin First Class or as he was known more in the legends of the underworld... Pariah Ronin.

That name had weight for certain factions on Romulus, but he could never be sure that weight would bring.

The first it was a simple job back on his father's ship. In and out... no big deal. The second time he was here, that held significance... he was there develop as many reliable contacts as possible within a month's time... but in that time he got caught up in something important to the government at the time. In the end, he had single handedly caught a very... elusive spy. At the time it had won him many friends amoungst the Romulans, but on Romulus, gratitude and loyalities change at the drop of a hat.

Though the captured spy in question should prove valuable to any government. Thankfully it wasn't a Federation spy.

Ensign Zev Raynor of Starfleet on the other hand was no one to them. Or worse an enemy operative... or more accurately an allied enemy operative. Whatever... the black wasn't going to recieve the greatest welcome on a place like Romulus...

He had already read all the laws, but debated whether or not he should go down to the surface and see old friends... or not.

To Romulus, or not to Romulus... that is the question... Whether it be noblier to have be disintegrated put back togther on a foreign land, or to sit on one's ass and sleep, per chance to dream... about annoying probelms people are having around the ship.

But Romulus wasn't why he was tired... no... probably because he had been running from who he was... he wore a mask which was not himself and presented it to the world.

He collypsed onto the bed... and drifted towards a light sleep.

"Hunters In The Mind"

(Takes Place 4 Weeks after "Starfleet's Grim Reaper to the Rescue")

Principle Characters

2nd Lieutenant Branwen London - Furies Counselor
Lt (JG) Victor Krieghoff, Security Officer

****

USS Galaxy
Deck 10
Turbolift 2

Ever since they came back to the ship Branwen had been avoiding Victor. It had been bad enough that Kimberley had seen her like that. At least Kimberley was a woman. Not that she was interested in Victor as a man, romantically, but he was a friend. And he had seen her violated and dirty, probably he would never see how the same way ever again. She had stopped pestering him every week by she had done before. Stopped all the silly little conversations about them becoming friends. In fact when she saw him in the distance she turned the other way and ran.

Which, of course, made the situation of being trapped in a turbolift with him all the more stressful.

Victor had stepped into the lift at the last second, leaving no opportunity to escape again, or to flee around him before the doors closed. "Deck 34," he announced in his toneless way, and then glanced back to see who else was in the car.

Branwen paled. There was no way out none at all. She stared at him as if caught in headlights.

Victor looked back for a moment. The Lieutenant seemed to be experiencing some difficulty, either caused by his presence or something else. Perhaps she'd been kicking the wall again and had injured herself? He lifted his padd, keyed something in, and displayed it to her: DO YOU REQUIRE MEDICAL ASSISTANCE, LIEUTENANT?

She bowed her head in shame. She was such a lowlife to him now that he would not even speak to her directly any more. She just shook her head no.

Victor studied her for a moment. There was definitely something wrong with her; even when she'd been angry and kicking the wall months before she'd at least responded to him when he used the padd to speak to her. Something was wrong. Perhaps she'd seen too much of his inner self during the rescue? YOU'RE CERTAIN? he typed. IF MY PRESENCE IS AN ISSUE FOR YOU, I CAN DEPART THE LIFT EARLY.

"You don't need to be kind." She whispered. "I know what you think."

Somehow, Victor doubted that. Still, he hadn't read the Lieutenant's file, perhaps she was one of the rare human telepaths. I DID NOT AUTHORIZE ANY TELEPATHIC CONTACT, LIEUTENANT. I SUGGEST, SINCE IT MAKES YOU THIS UNCOMFORTABLE - AND IS ILLEGAL - THAT YOU CEASE IT IMMEDIATELY. That, he thought, should settle that issue.

"Sorry?" She asked not understanding.

Victor looked at the padd. No, what he'd written seemed clear. He tried again, leaving nothing that occurred to him to chance misinterpretation. YOU SAID THAT YOU KNEW WHAT I WAS THINKING, LIEUTANANT. SINCE I HAVE NOT AGREED TO ANY TELEPATHIC CONTACT, AND SINCE IT IS BOTH ILLEGAL AND CLEARLY CAUSING YOU DISCOMFORT, I WANT YOU TO STOP IT AT ONCE BEFORE I AM FORCED TO DETAIN YOU FOR A VIOLATION OF THE REGULATIONS GOVERNING SUCH CONTACT.

Her head came up. "Don't be stupid, Victor. You know what I mean. I am human how could I do that? But I just have to look at your face to see how you think about me now." She quickly looked down again.

Victor studied her for a moment, typed a response, and held it low enough that she could see it without looking up. HUMAN TELEPATHIC ABILITY IS DOCUMENTED; SINCE I HAVEN'T READ YOUR FILE I HAVE NO WAY OF KNOWING IF YOU HAVETHAT ABILITY OR NOT. I DO KNOW THAT IF SEEING MY FACE IS A REQUIREMENT FOR THE ABILITY, YOU CERTAINLY CAN'T USE IT WHILE LOOKING AT THE FLOOR.

Suddenly she leaned her head against his chest. "Christ Victor, you can be so dense. I am not mind reading you. I am trying to stay away from you so you will not embarrassed by my presence." But really she wanted to be close to him. He was like a big brother, safe and comforting.

Victor frowned. People who weren't family shouldn't touch other people like this. He looked at the padd, looked down at the Lieutenant, and decided that even if he could fit it between the two of them she wouldn't be able to read it. "Why am I supposed to be embarrassed by your presence, Lieutenant?" he asked tonelessly, hoping the question was straightforward enough that she would be able to answer it.

"You saw that." She blushed. "I haven't thanked you yet. It helped me that you were there. I felt safe. But I know I have been defiled and am dirty now."

Well, it was, Victor decided, an answer; not very clearly stated, but an answer. It had something to do with the Hydrans and her rescue, that much was obvious, but the part about being dirty...? He blinked once. Rissa; she was talking about the same thing that Rissa had felt, after the War, after the Cardassians. He didn't know that understanding that helped any since didn't think he'd ever said or done anything to Rissa that seemed to make things better, but at least he understood now. He'd failed her and the others, he hadn't stopped the Hydrans before they'd hurt the prisoners in ways that he didn't care to think of, not just the Lieutenant here, but Commander Corgan, Lieutenant Gray, and the others as well. They were still hurting the Lieutenant, like the Cardassians had been hurting Rissa years after the War. Maybe the Lieutenant could explain why she was letting it happen?

"Why?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" She looked confused.

"Why are you still letting them hurt you, Lieutenant? The ones that did those things are dead, they can't hurt you any more - but you're letting them do it, like they were still here. Why?"

"What are you talking about? I am not letting them hurt me." She had no idea what he was saying to her.

"Yes, you are." It was obvious once you understood - why didn't she see it? "Listen to the words that you're saying, Lieutenant. They're not your words, they're ones put there by the people that did those things to you. They hurt you then, and they're still hurting you now because you're letting them do it."

"No.... You don't understand, it's not them, it is my religion. I have been defiled, that makes me dirty and unworthy." Tears blinked in her eyes. "Now I will never find a man."

Religion? Victor mulled that over for a second. What did religion have to do with what the Hydrans had done? And why would that prevent the Lieutenant from finding the One for her? There was only one word for that. "Stupid."

She didn't look at him, and didn't even see his expression.

Apparently the padd was the only way to be sure. He typed it and held it up. STUPID.

"Are you calling me stupid?" She asked. Maybe he was right.

Victor didn't understand why the idea was so complex. NO. YOU DID NOTHING WRONG - THINGS WERE DONE TO YOU AGAINST YOUR WILL. YOU COULD NO MORE STOP THEM THAN YOU COULD SAFELY HOLD ANTIMATTER IN YOUR HAND. WHEN YOU FIND THE ONE THAT IS FOR YOU, NOTHING THAT HAPPENED IN THE PAST WILL MATTER; THERE WILL BE ONLY THE FUTURE. IF THE VERSION OF GOD THAT YOU FOLLOW SAYS DIFFERENTLY, FIND ANOTHER ONE THAT UNDERSTANDS AND FOLLOW THEM INSTEAD.

Branwen shook her head. "Don't you see, this proves my father right? He said that if I would run away and defy him and our faith something terrible would happen to me. He said we would never be fit for any man. Look at my sister, she ran away as well, and her husband was killed when she was pregnant. And no man has ever wanted me, and now they never will because I am defiled." Her voice broke and she sobbed against his large chest. She didn't even think it strange that she told him much more than she even told Kimberly.

Not the answer he'd expected, but at least it was something he understood. The problem wasn't that he'd failed her and the others; it went further back than that. NOW YOU ARE STUPID, LIEUTENANT. HE LIED TO YOU. HE SAID THOSE THINGS BECAUSE HE WANTED POWER OVER YOU, NOT BECAUSE THEY WERE TRUE. IF YOU BELIEVE THEM, THEN HE'S STILL HURTING YOU TOO, JUST LIKE THE HYDRANS.

"Oh yes, he is.' She said holding on to him. "But what if he is right? It can't be coincidence can it? The more bad things happen, the more I think he has to be right and I am damned."

NO. BAD THINGS HAPPEN, NOTHING PREVENTS THAT. YOU AREN'T DAMNED - I WOULD KNOW. STOP CRYING. MAKE GOOD CHOICES. BE THE PERSON THAT THE ONE IS DESTINED TO FIND. IF YOU LET THE HYDRANS WIN, LET YOUR FATHER WIN, THEN YOU WILL NEVER BE FREE. YOU WILL NEVER FIND THE ONE.

She leaned against him. "Twice now I thought I had found a nice guy, twice they picked somebody else. And this was before... What chance do I stand now?"

This was rapidly moving out of any territory that Victor thought he should be talking to anyone about. YOU DIDN'T LISTEN, LIEUTENANT. WHEN YOU MEET THE ONE, NOTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED IN THE PAST WILL MATTER TO THEM OR TO YOU. THERE WILL ONLY BE THE FUTURE. It was strange to be speaking of the One to someone else when he didn't really believe that there was a One for him any more. The Lieutenant wasn't like him though; there should be a One for her. He shifted uncomfortably. She shouldn't be leaning against him like this either, they weren't family. MAKE BETTER CHOICES. STOP LETTING THE DEAD HURT YOU.

"Please call me Branwen," she said softly. "Victor, I had not pictured you as someone who believes in true love." She sounded a bit bitter or avoiding the subject.

"YOU'RE NOT FAMILY, LIEUTENANT. YOU ONLY CALL FAMILY BY THEIR NAME LIKE THAT. He shifted position again. EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE SOMEONE WHO IS THE ONE FOR THEM, LIEUTENANT. BUT EVEN IF THEY DON'T FIND THE ONE, THEY CAN STILL FIND SOMEONE THAT CAN BE FAMILY - WHICH IS GOOD ENOUGH EVEN IF THEY AREN'T THE ONE. Everyone, he supposed, except himself. There wasn't anyone for him.

"Nicely put." She also shifted so they were standing closer again. "You will make somebody a good mate one-day. You are a good friend, Victor," She said softly.

NO, I'M NOT. Victor wasn't certain which statement he was responding to with that - perhaps both. He did wish the Lieutenant would stop leaning on him like that, though. It didn't feel like it should for them to be family, like it had with Lieutenant Gray, or did with.... He frowned. Had he really been about to think that? WE ARE NOT FAMILY, LIEUTENANT.

She sighed. "I'm not saying we are family, I'm saying we are friends. Why is that so hard for you? You saved me, Victor. I am grateful."

The Lieutenant hadn't understood him - and didn't understand that he'd failed her and the others. YOU SHOULDN'T BE. IF I'D DONE MY JOB CORRECTLY, THEN YOU WOULD NOT HAVE NEEDED TO BE SAVED. He paused and typed another message. WHEN I SAID THAT WE WEREN'T FAMILY, I WAS TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT ONLY FAMILY TOUCHES EACH OTHER LIKE THIS LIEUTENANT.

"Friends do." She said simply but took a tiny step backwards. "Yet I understand, sir," she finished softly.

I'M NOT A GOOD FRIEND, LIEUTENANT. I'M NOT LIKE YOU, OR THE OTHERS ON THE SHIP - OR ANYONE ELSE. THINGS THAT ARE EASY FOR YOU I CAN'T DO. THINGS THAT EASY FOR OTHERS TO SAY, I CANNOT. I'M A TIGER. YOU ALL ARE NOT. SOME OF YOU ARE SHEEP, SOME ARE WOLVES - BUT NO ONE'S WHAT I AM. EXPECTING ME TO THINK OR ACT LIKE YOU DO, OR ANYONE ELSE WOULD IS POINTLESS. I CAN'T BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I AM.

"Victor, Victor, friends don't have to be all the same. Friends accept each other for what they are, in spite of the differences or the quirks. If you were like everybody else, you would be boring."

For a moment, Victor almost let himself wonder what it would be like to be boring, to be ordinary - but the thought never fully formed before it fell into the nothing inside him and was swept away. It would have been pointless anyway, he realized. He could never be like everyone else unless the rest of the universe was like him - and that was not a desirable outcome for the universe. ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE TO LET DEAD PEOPLE - OR HYDRANS - HURT YOU, LIEUTENANT?

"Probably," she said softly.

IS YOUR FATHER STILL ALIVE? WOULD IT HELP IF I KILLED HIM, OR WOULD YOU LET HIM CONTINUE TO HURT YOU AFTER HE WAS GONE, TOO?

"Oh Victor, that is so sweet of you." She said softly. "But I don't think it would help. And he is still my father."

NO ONE THAT DESERVED THE DESCRIPTOR OF "FATHER" WOULD HURT - OR WANT TO HURT - THEIR CHILDREN. Victor frowned at her. HAVE YOU TALKED TO A COUNSELOR?

"I'm going to have to. But I know how to handle her." Branwen said with conviction. "And my father thinks he's doing me a favour. He thinks he's saving my soul."

TELL THE COUNSELOR THE TRUTH. TELL THEM ALL OF IT. HIDING PAIN ONLY MAKES IT HARDER TO LET GO OF. Victor paused and shook his head. AND YOUR FATHER ISN'T INTERESTED IN SAVING ANYTHING BUT HIS CONTROL OVER YOU.

"When did you turn into a therapist, Victor?" she said surprised, not thinking he had it in him.

I DIDN'T - I'VE BEEN SENT TO A LOT OF THEM. He frowned at her. TELL THEM EVERYTHING, OR I WILL. STARFLEET GAVE YOU AND THE OTHERS TO ME; YOU ARE MY SHEEP NOW. NO ONE - LIVING OR DEAD - CAN HUNT YOU WITHOUT COMING THROUGH ME FIRST, EVEN IF IT'S JUST IN YOUR MIND. IF I CAN'T KILL THEM, THEN I WILL MAKE CERTAIN THAT THE ONES WHO CAN KILL THE ONES HUNTING YOU DO THEIR JOBS.

"I doubt that Kimberley would come to you for advice." Of course she didn't tell him that Kimberley was afraid of him. "I will manage, Victor. Its friends like you that pull me through."

I'D GO TO HER, Victor typed. AND I'M NOT YOUR FRIEND, LIEUTENANT - I'M JUST STOPPING SOMEONE FROM HUNTING IN MY TERRITORY. ONE WEEK, LIEUTENANT. IF SHE HASN'T CONTACTED ME TO TELL ME THAT YOU'VE TOLD HER EVERYTHING IN THAT TIME, THEN I TELL HER EVERYTHING.

"Awww, sure hon." Bran said. She was not going to lie but she was not going to tell Kim everything. She doubted Victor would check and Kimberly was too afraid to go to him.

Victor looked at her skeptically. ONE WEEK, LIEUTENANT - THEN I TELL THE DOCTOR EVERYTHING.

"Let's do something fun next week. I will even let you choose." Branwen was giggling again. Meeting Victor did her more good than a visit with a shrink.

WE'VE ALREADY THIS CONVERSATION, LIEUTENANT. DO WE REALLY NEED TO REPEAT IT?

"No. You have a whole week to decide what to do." The lift doors opened and Branwen walked out. "See you then!"

Victor watched the doors close behind her with a frown. She obviously didn't believe him, which was unfortunate, since his presence was particularly painful for Doctor Burton. He had, however, warned her, and if she didn't believe him, well... He paused and tried to consider what the end of the thought chain should be, only to have it fall into nothingness inside him. It would be what it would be; just like her incessant attempts to get him to do something 'fun' would come to nothing. Perhaps, he wondered, he should ask the Flight Officer to talk to her about that? She seemed to understand him well enough, perhaps she could make the Lieutenant understand? His frown deepened as the doors opened on his floor and he stepped out; why had that thought even occurred to him at all?

"They Say Time's A Healer - Part 1"

Michael McDowell
Civilian Engineering specialist

Private Alliya Yhwalyan Marine,
Second Lieutenant (APC, Written by Dru)

*** Eshe/McDowell's quarters ***

It seemed to be going so well the last few weeks. No head aches, no problems with work, no problems with nothing. Except for the usual everyday stuff, but that didn't really count. It all was going so well.

"Where'szzz that damned.zzstuff .."

An arm reached out towards the general direction of the table, which was covered with several glasses - some of them still half full - and uncorked bottles. It swayed from left to right.

"Zzson of a. Whrezz zthat zzshit!"

With a sudden move the arm went back again to the right side of the table. This action was immediately followed by the all too familiar noise of breaking glass. Next there was nothing but silence, until it finally dawned on Michael what just happened.

"Whatta waszzte."

After that one comment, Michael gave it another try and this time he succeeded to get hold of one of the bottles that was still standing on the table. He poured himself another drink, thereby ignoring the fact that he spilled more liquor then he actually got into his glass. Once finished he simply let the bottle drop onto the ground, raised his glass and said,

"To life, that zzstinking zcheating.baszztard!"

With the toast done, Michael went over to consuming to strong alcoholic drink. Not by taking little sips, but with gulps at a time. Surprising how far some Engineering skills and paying attention could get you. It was a fair trade mind you. Nothing illegal,.though he wasn't exactly sure about the alcohol. Never mind. It was done. There was no turning back now.

Unexpectedly, as always happens in these sorts of situations, the door chime rang.

Michael frowned. If his ears didn't fool him, then he just heard the door chime. He chose to ignore it. He didn't want company and certainly not with the mood he was in now.

There was a pause of about fifteen seconds before the chime rang again accompanied by a rapping. It was obvious that whoever was there wasn't going to take silence for an answer.

"There'szz no one here for freaking szzsake! So shoo..go do szzomethhing uszzsefull. Geezzz!" That should be clear enough. Michael reached to the floor trying to find the bottle he'd dropped just a minute ago.

Again there was a pause, obviously the visitors thinking time. And then there was a familiar sound of the door lock being overridden, followed by the gentle hiss as the door opened. A figure stood shadowed by the flood of light from the corridor behind, it was almost angelic.

"Mr, er...McDowell?" a detached voice asked from the heavens above.

Michael narrowed his eyes against the blinding light. It hurt like hell, like someone poking an ice pick into his eyes. But that experience was nothing compared to the religious one Michael had right now at the same moment. "Zzso, Angelszz do exciszt." he whispered.

"What's Behind Door #2?"

Nara and Bran and Keldan

*****Crew Quarters*****

A PADD sat on the desk and feet nervously tapped on the floor. Eyes turned to the chronometer (clock) as Nara waited for Branwen's shift to end. She hoped Bran was feeling better because Nara was ready to get either her and Saia their own place or a place with three rooms. She was ready before all this happened, but she waited seeing how Bran's condition was upon return.

Branwen came home five minutes later, she immediately saw that Nara seemed impatient. "I am not late, am I? Was I supposed to babysit tonight?" She asked.

"No, no. She's Jerik's. Don't mean to be impatient, but I was thinking we could talk." She picked up the PADD and put it back down, thinking to ask something first. "How are you?"

"I am fine." Bran said quickly, too quickly. "Is anything wrong... with you or Saia?" She asked worried.

"No." Nara looked at Bran a moment, knowing the whole saying your fine so quick it was rehearsed. She sighed and picked up the PADD, "There's a list of available quarters. I wasn't sure if you wanted to move with Saia and me or..." She held out the PADD, "But here are the three bedrooms if you're interested."

"I didn't know you were planning on moving." Bran said. "You're not... you're not thinking about moving in with Saul? I don't want to be in the way."

Nara shook her head, deciding to leave out the fact he already had a roommate, "No. We just need more room with Saia here."

"Yes you are right. She needs her own room. Would you mind if I stayed with you guys, I would rather not be alone or move in with somebody else right now." Bran asked.

Nara nodded, "Alright with me. We just have to pick a suite." Nara wondering how Iniara would think about her changing her mind like this.

"So how do we go about that?" Bran asked. "The last time I just got assigned here."

"We go see Operations."

** Operations **

Keldan walked swiftly back toward the Ops office. To say things were busy would be a gross understatement. He took a deep breath and quickened his pace. He hadn't received any update on a new task assignment while in the middle of his last one. Usually he'd get two or three request. It made him wonder if the comm system had broken down.

Being deep within Rihannsu territory did have a certain excitement. Of course, that novelty wore off pretty quickly in the face of dozens of conflicting requests for ship's resources and coordination of away teams, not to mention the regular doss from ship personnel over mundane, everyday requests. He was looking forward to his round on gamma shift. Of course, in twelve hours, he'd be looking forward for the opportunity to stretch his legs.

Coming around the corner to the Ops office, he saw two figures waiting within. He didn't immediately recognize either of them.

Bran and Nara stood in the waiting room in Operations. Nara hoped she wouldn't see Iniara. She looked stupid changing her mind just as they were ready to give her a room.

The office door swished open and the large Talarian strode through. "My apologies if you have been waiting long," Keldan said, as he hurried around the desk console to quickly log his return to the office and the successful completion of his previous task. "Seems a couple Jem'Hadar youths discovered the hard way not to try and light fires in the cargo bay." He smiled inwardly, recalling Lt. Tarin's morning briefing, comparing the next few weeks to something called a "circus". He hadn't yet had a chance to find out what that meant.

He punched up his identification subroutine on the computer. Being relatively new, he still couldn't put names to faces for everyone aboard ship, but he was getting better.

Realizing they were there together, he began, looking at Nara "What can I do for you, Lieutenant, and," turning to Bran, "for you, Lieutenant?"

Nara kept her tongue still about Jem'Hadar. She decided to take the lead until Bran decided to, "We are looking for an available three bedroom suite."

"I hope that will not be a problem." Bran said. As a junior officer she was not allowed very big quarters. Sometime she thought allotment of quarters should be awarded for the job you did, not your rank.

Keldan deftly punched up the crew assignment information. "You are currently cohabitating with one of the Trill refugees. I see you've already spoken with Lieutenant Tarin. I can just change this requisition order and we'll see what is currently available."

It took a few seconds to process the information through the computer. "There are several standard three bedrooms available." Noting that she had previously requested a two-bedroom with a kitchen, he looked to see if any of those were available in the three-bedroom layout. "I've got one three-bedroom with the expanded kitchen. But it looks like the master suite has an acquatic bath that's been scheduled for repair. If you want it, though, I can reschedule the maintenance crew to get in there later today. Once operations signs off on it it'll be set but you wouldn't be able to move in until tomorrow at the earliest."

Nara liked the idea of a water bath and kitchen, but looked at Bran to see what she wanted.

"It sounds perfect to me. What do you think?" She asked Nara.

Nara smiled as she nodded, "Sounds good to me."

"I guess I had better start packing then, if we move in a few days." Bran smiled. "Thank you for your help, sir."

"You're certainly welcome." With a few more quick strokes on the computer panel he had successfully completed the requisition form and rescheduled the maintenance crew. "You'll be on Deck 6, Section 10." He grabbed a PADD from underneath the counter. "I'll upload the requisition form for you to authorize. You can do that now, or take it with you if you think you might change your mind." He punched in his own authorization code. "After that it'll just need final approval from Lt. Tarin and then signed off by the Operations inspection team before you can move in."

Nara nodded inwardly amused at the universal, eternal red tape. "Thank you."

She looked at Bran again, "So we don't plan on changing our minds?" She then thought of Saia, "I'm pretty sure Saia wouldn't really like anything else better."

"Indeed you should ask Saia if she is OK with it. She's old enough to make decisions." Bran agreed.

Nara hadn't thought of that. She shrugged, "Alright counselor." She winked at Bran, then turned to Keldan, "Maybe we just better take it with us. We'll bring it back when it's ready."

"Sounds like a good plan. If you agree?" Branwen looked at the operations officer.

"Very good," the Talarian replied as he held out the PADD. "You can drop it off anytime."

OOC: Takes place before Ember departs for the little away mission, obviously :)

"Persistence Never Pays"

Lieutenant Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer
Ensign Ember Lansky, Flight Control Officer

-----------

He'd put it into the back of his mind while the covert ops team were on Vaden, completing their assignments, but since they'd returned to the Galaxy, Miramon had known that the personal issues were going to be the first to jump straight into the limelight, since there were some things you could never leave unresolved for long. The whole thing with Ember had bothered him from the moment he'd left the ship, and probably long before that, too. He'd not had chance to do anything about it, but now the opportunity had arisen again, he could either completely ignore Ember and thus, keep feeling like someone was kicking him in the stomach every hour or so, or he could do and risk Ember actually kicking him if things ended up getting heated.

Thinking back on it, she hadn't been far wrong in suggesting that there were way too many issues with relationships. The only difference is that he (usually) considered the issues to be worth it, in the long run.

Of course, he'd not been able to just drop everything the moment he stepped aboard ship. The CMO had done surgery to repair the 'damage' done to his nose by covering it up in the first place for the mission, so his appearance was back to normal, and then he'd had a mission debriefing, plus he'd had to jump headfirst into department work again to catch up with reports and the like for the period of his absence. And, of course, he'd had to liberate his cat (or perhaps liberate the person caring for her?) and move back into his quarters. A good thing the Doc had included his allergy prescription earlier.

Fortunately, he hadn't needed to go much out of his way to find out how Ember was doing - since she was one of the certified pilots aboard, he'd received all the pertinent data on her and the others thus qualified when Selena had handed him all the paperwork he had to read through or write (and, for a Vulcan, she looked surprisingly pleased to get rid of it). He'd not realised that her status was there until he'd actually sat down to read the reports, and then ended up reading none of the others after that, once he'd found out what had happened to her and the Galaxy in his absence.

And so, what all of that led up to was simple: Miramon standing outside Ember's quarters, hitting the door chime so that she might let him in. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd just ignored him, given their last encounter, but he was hoping she might have cooled off a little with time. Hopefully that wasn't too much of a stretch.

The chime sounded just as Ember was stepping out of the shower. A playful smile immediately curved her lips as she threw on a short, silk robe that barely covered her modesty and lashed it at the waist. Barefoot, she padded across the room to the door, opening them with the fullest anticipation of giving her visitor a warm, unrestrained welcome. But the moment she saw it was Miramon and not Ayden, her face turned cold, and she folded her arms across her chest.

"It's you," She stated with steely impatience. "What're you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Ember." The sarcastic retort came before Miramon had thought about restraining it. As it happened, he had meant the words, just not the tone or the suddeness of the whole thing. That said, why was he worrying about it? It wasn't as though she'd exactly been anything beyond coldly civil to him since before he'd left with the covert ops team to go to Vaden. He looked at her expression, wondering (as he had been since the last time he'd seen her) why exactly she was acting like this. The simple look of contentedness she'd had on her face for a few split seconds before she'd seen who it was hadn't gone unnoticed, either.

"We need to talk." His tone grew quite serious with that, and the simple stern gaze of his deep blue eyes only reinforced externally exactly what he was feeling inside - well, aside from maybe that other feeling that something on the inside of his stomach was doing it's best to beat the living heck out of him. Not waiting for an invitation, he walked into her quarters, stepping past the gap that had existed between her and the door for a moment, knowing even as he did so how simply presumptuous it was, but not particularly caring a great deal as he did so. As far as he could see, it was the only way to force a discussion with her, since if he'd stayed outside she could have just closed the door.

And if she had, well, it would never do to have a senior officer express any particular negative feelings in a public setting.

The chilliness in her face deepened into a frown when he strolled past her. Matched by the glare she shot him, she seemed almost intimidating, but it was not so much anger she contained as it was exasperation and annoyance. Slowly, Ember spun around to face him, letting the doors slide close behind her. She didn't budge from where she stood, the physical distance between them appearing like a yawning chasm with no bridge in sight.

"We've said all that's needed to be said, Miramon. What else is there to talk about? Or didn't you understand what I told you the last time? It's. Over," She emphasized, enunciating each word loudly for his benefit.

"No, you've said all you wanted to say. I, on the other hand, have barely started." Miramon noted. His tone was calmer, and he was feeling a little less internally aggravated - probably because he remembered exactly who it was he was talking to. The idea had been for them to talk without reaching the point where she was throwing things at him, and where he was feeling inclined to throw something back. The look on her face, though, suggested he'd best duck at some point soon.

"As it is, it might have escaped your notice that I only just came back from my away mission. Since I'm told you were on an Away mission as well, I came to see if you were alright, among other things."

Ember heaved a sound of exasperation and threw out her arms, shoulders rigidly tensed. "You're seeing me. Anything else?"

The Bajoran walked over to the sofa that was to be found at the back of the room and sat down. Sure, he hadn't been invited to do so, but right now the only way they were going to have this particular fight was if he forced it. And if he was going to start walking into walls, he might as well be running right into them. He waited for a moment, simply staring at Ember, then gave a gentle shrug and started talking again (watching as he did so for any throwable objects that she might have had close by).

"Anyway, this time I don't have anywhere pressing to go, and though you can leave like you did the last time I tried to talk to you, I think it's quite possible you'd want to put some clothes on first." He noted with a half-smile. Although he wouldn't put it past her to just walk out as she was, that would be kind of unusual, given that they were, well, her quarters. And frankly, he hadn't chased anyone out of their own quarters before, and now probably wasn't a good time to get started.

She stared at him in stark disbelief. Now, instead of the distance working towards her advantage, it suddenly felt ineffective in delivering the full effect and magnitude of her distaste. Striding towards him so that she was standing before him, she looked down at Miramon, fully intending to declare loudly what she thought of his utter oafish rudeness. He had no right to barge in, no right to claim the space in her quarters and no right to be here.

But, when her eyes met his gaze, the calm and composure she witnessed within was starting to make it difficult for her to sustain the fuel that fired all her resentment. Really, what was she so upset over? Was it entirely Miramon?

The question that entered her mind stunned her momentarily, jolting her from the built-up hostility. But the brief moment was all that was needed to allow a tendril of clarity to seep through. She inhaled sharply, casting her eyes ceilingward. It was like in some ways, she was forcing herself to recognize that he *did* have a point. He may not have any right to be here, but he was not budging until he had said his piece. Abruptly, she turned and sank heavily into the armchair opposite him. It looked like she was relenting, for now.

"Okay. Now, seriously, what's bothering you?" the Bajoran asked. "You've seemed aggravated by me ever since the night we spent together. I'm fine to sleep with, but not to talk to?"

"No, we can talk. But I don't want you to have any illusions about 'picking up where we left off'," She said bluntly, saying that last phrase with barely suppressed skepticism. She didn't usually have that much trouble with this. She had her fair mix of men who wanted to pursue an ongoing relationship after the one night stand – an ongoing *physical* relationship, but even when the 'no strings attached' rule was made clear from the outset of the game, she still avoided anything that remotely crossed the line into 'long-term'. Permanence just didn't suit her. Once the men knew that, they usually dropped like flies. None of them hung around to be 'just friends'.

Ember figured Miramon would be like that. Once he knew that she wasn't interested in bedding him anymore, he would, too, go away. But then again, none of them had ever been more interested in talking than in sleeping together, like Miramon was.

He wasn't certain at that point what she was referring to. They'd left off in the middle of an argument, at last check – just before he went off on his mission, when they'd met in the Holodeck. Or maybe she meant…no, surely that wasn't what she was referring to, was it? Their relationship, so far, had admittedly been strictly sexual in nature, but that wasn't quite how things had started. Was she thinking that was the only thing he was looking for with regards to a relationship?

Amazing that anyone could confuse his intentions that way at his age. He wasn't old, but among Bajorans, he was off the age whereby he should have started looking for a lasting relationship that extended far beyond the simple pleasures of flesh. If Ember thought that was what he wanted, maybe this was a mistake – after all, he doubted that such a notion was limited to him. Perhaps that was the kind of relationship she wanted, and understood he wanted something more, and was pushing him away.

Why did the woman have to be so damn complicated to read?

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, his wrists sitting just above his knees, so that his posture was less noticeable. Anyone that knew him well would have recognised that position as one that he often used when thinking, collecting his thoughts and ascertaining his options before coming to some kind of decision. In the end, though, he didn't reach any conclusion that brought him any peace of mind.

Giving a gentle sigh, he turned his head slightly so he could look at Ember, his expression solemn but still resembling the familiar calm demeanour that was his default. He stayed silent a moment longer, then gave a casual shrug.

"Perhaps I have illusions of my own, but they're not the ones you think I have. How about your own illusions? How can you be sure of my thoughts if you're not certain of your own? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that it's not possible that you're wrong in what's going through your mind right now?"

Ember shook her head. "It was nothing more than sex. Deal with it and get over it." It wasn't quite true. There *had* been something more. Miramon wasn't conventional; he was sharply intelligent, perceptive, gentle, and his presence alone had an uncanny sort of calming effect on her that few, if anyone, could lay claim to. His strong peaceful centre of being had once fascinated her, and it still continued to fascinate her. But it didn't matter, because she had gotten all she wanted from him, and to put it crudely, she was done with him.

"I'm also with Ayden O'Connor now," She told him with finality, as though that should suffice to push him away. "I don't think you should come looking for me anymore."

Miramon absorbed this in pure silence, not particularly sure as to how to react. On one hand he might have chosen to react surprised, but then again, he really wasn't. Then there was indignation, but it wasn't as though Ember had asked for anything more than a one-night-stand. As she suggested, he was maintaining his own illusions, they just weren't the ones that she thought he was holding. Was he supposed to be angry? He honestly wasn't sure, although that said, most people wouldn't have thought about a reaction before expressing one, but he was quite at a loss to respond. What did anyone say to that sort of thing?

He raised his eyebrows gently and dropped them again in something of a facial shrug, considering his options once again. He'd have to take a look at Mr O'Connor, see what was going on there. He'd only been gone from the ship on his away mission to Vaden for a sort amount of time, and from what he'd been told in the debriefing, the Galaxy had found more than enough to keep everyone occupied during that period. So it had to be something else, he thought privately. What had driven Ember to this, and for that matter, what had brought her to mention it to him now? Did she somehow think that he was just going to back off because she said her interests were elsewhere?

That seemed to him to be running from possibilities, and there really was no fun in that. Little risk, little reward, that way.

He gave a small smile, the edges of his mouth turning upward slightly. There was only amusement in that gesture, but not a great deal of warmth - the type of smile where a person was simply expressing an internal state of mind, rather than reacting to anything outside of themselves. It was his way of saying she'd missed something.

"And what makes you think that I would do something like that? Maybe you mistook me for someone more inclined to care about short-term fulfillment, or who doesn't care for anything beyond the superficial. Well, respectfully, Ember, the answer's no."

It probably wasn't the right tone to take with the human woman, since she was more than likely to be inclined to be irritated by what he said, but in all honesty, he wasn't sure he cared about that. What she did next would determine how he was going to act in regards to her. Although he'd meant every word he'd said, so he hoped she understood that he was serious. He could never abide not been taken at his word.

"No?" She echoed with disbelief, about to protest at his infuriating stubbornness when she decided that it was pointless. He might be able to stay calm amidst a storm, but it didn't mean that he was soft or weak. Quite to the contrary, she was aware of the implacable core of strength that it belied. He wouldn't cave, even if she pushed. "Okay, have it your way," She shrugged, but if he thought that it meant *she* was giving in, he was mistaken.

The very next moment, she stood up. "You can sit here if you wish, but when you're done, please do show yourself out." That was all she needed to say. Ember retreated into the bedroom, closing the doors behind her, and locking them.

Miramon sat there for a moment, not moving as he'd watched her retreat, the door of the seperate room close itself behind her, hiding her from view. After a few seconds, he gave a soft nod, one that wasn't really meant for anyone, a gesture of self confirmation, and stood up from the couch. Okay, it wasn't as though they'd gotten very far, but it was progress at least.

He'd just have to wait and see what happened next.

"Breaking the Ice"

Lieutenant Miramon Terrik, Chief Navigation Officer

Flight Officer Ember Lansky, Vanguard Pilot

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

~ So their last encounter hadn't exactly been a blast~, Miramon thought wryly as he headed back to his quarters after his duty shift. He'd been thinking about Ember for a little while, since it was pretty boring working at the CONN unless they happened to be doing a ship separation, in combat or navigating a particularly treacherous part of space. Sure, he also had Engineering to annoy, since he was the liason between Engineering and the Bridge when he was on duty (a job all helmsmen performed and shared with Operations). But anyway, he'd had time to let his thoughts drift a little, and since only the Ops officer could see his face when he was at CONN, it wasn't likely anyone would see him woolgathering.

He was feeling a little tired now, which wasn't at all helpful given that his relationships weren't exactly harmonious right now, either. He'd been a little distant from Saul since they'd returned from Vaden, since he wanted to take time to absorb everything that had happened there, and reassess his position. And then, of course, the whole thing with Ember had been bothering him since before he'd even left the ship. Their meeting the other day hadn't exactly been civil. Okay, he'd managed to get her to go from openly hostile to quietly annoyed with him, so he was at least making progress.

Still, a solution to the whole thing still evaded him. If he'd asked Saul or Nara , they'd probably have said it was too much effort for something that likely wasn't going to happen, but Miramon was always optimistic. Ember was just playing hard to get, to use the human expression. She'd said she was seeing someone else, but then again, given what had happened with him and Ember first time around, he wouldn't have been surprised if that was a similar fling she was using as an excuse to get him to back off. And he wasn't the type of leave anything unfinished if he thought more work needed doing.

What they really needed to do was just get the whole thing in the open without him allowing it to degenerate into a lecture on, well, what was wrong with him. The last two times they'd talked, she'd made it seemed like he was doing something wrong or unusual, as though his continued interest was some kind of insult. He smiled at that thought - his sister had sometimes said that might happen, since people didn't mind going to him, but when he was after them, that was a good reason to be running scared. What he had to do now was find some way for them to talk without letting that happen - otherwise he'd probably just snap of his own accord. How to arrange that, there was the question...

He entered his quarters presently, undoing his uniform jacket and tossing it on the bed as he walked into the room to the side. As tired as he was, he just wanted to take a hot shower and whip up something to eat. He had reports to write and things to do, but it wasn't anything that couldn't wait. A hot shower and a hot meal sounded great.

That thought stopped him. Food. That was usually a good icebreaker. He didn't use the replicator for anything other than ingredients, since he preferred to cook himself, so it wouldn't have been too much of a problem to make food for more than one - and actually taste like food, rather than resequenced proteins and the like. A lot of people couldn't tell the difference, but he'd grown up on home cooking on Bajor, so he didn't eat anything he couldn't cook himself, if he could help it. His mother had always been a good cook, and had taught him how to do so. And then the Academy had been even more useful, since he found himself being introduced to foods he'd never heard of, much less cooked.

He smiled gently at the idea, then headed over to his desk and, moving quickly around to the other side and dumping his weight onto the chair, hit the power button on the console and began composing his message. Hopefully she wouldn't have too much issue with it...

Ember got up from the carpeted floor after finishing the series of push-ups, breathing deeply to recover from the exertion. Wiping her brow with the towel she had casually slung around her neck, she walked over to the replicator for a glass of water. She had just wrapped up her duty shift not too long ago, and as she wondered how she was going to spend the evening later – whether chilling out at the lounge or the gym for a hard work-out, her thoughts drifted to Ayden.

She took a gulp of water, embracing the cool sensation that rushed down her throat. Staying in a relationship was tough. Whenever she was with him and he got too close, she had to fight the instincts she had, to run like hell away from him. Yet, when he can't be with her, like tonight, the honest-to-goodness truth was that she missed him. It was a mess of contradictions, and she felt as though she was balancing on eggshells, just waiting and waiting for his patience to run dry and leave, like everyone else before him had done. It was a matter of time.

The sudden blinking light on the console drew her attention and she crossed over, curious about the sender. "Computer, play message."

The console activated and the words scrolled across the screen quickly, as conveyed from the Bajoran's computer to Ember's:

Ember,

It occurs to me that, before, you wanted me to show you what the benefits of a long-term relationship were like, so I want to extend that offer a little. Maybe you'd like to join me for dinner? It'll be completely relaxed, and innocent, so I'm not going to make any moves on you. I just want you to see how things look from where I'm sitting.

Call me if you're interested.

Miramon.

She frowned. Miramon, again? Did the man never give up? In muted exasperation, she reached over, intending to turn off the console, but she hesitated as her gaze fell on the words of the message again. Pinpricks of guilt stole up her stomach as she absorbed the impact of his words. She couldn't deny that she had deliberately lied to him and slept with him to get her mind off Ayden. That had not sat well with her since it happened. Always, she had been brutally frank to the point of tactlessness. Deception was something she hated.

Even so, Miramon had been more than forgiving towards her. He had come back repeatedly, facing nothing but her harsh words and even harsher slaps of ill-appreciation. If all he wanted was to get her back into his bed, then he would have stopped trying long ago. Instead, he offered friendship, and -- despite herself, a small smile formed on her lips – and dinner.

It was her failing. She didn't like to owe anyone debts of kindness or gratitude. Maybe she should accept, just this once. On top of easing her guilt, maybe he would finally get tired of her when he received the opportunity to say *all* that he wanted to say.

She heaved a sigh, composing a short message back to him:

I'll be there.

An hour later, Ember stood outside Miramon's quarters, and rang the bell.

Miramon looked up from the pot he had sitting on the stove he'd had installed in his quarters. He'd originally intended to cook an Earth dish, but being Human, Ember probably ate such food all the time, which was hardly very interesting. Plus, he wasn't great with Earth foods - Italian, sure, and maybe some Mexican, but not a great deal else. And so, he'd gone with traditional Bajoran foods - Larish Pie, served with Katterpod Beans and Earth pasta (something called Penne), a side serving of fresh Moba bread which he'd baked earlier, to be followed by slices of Moba Fruit, washed down with a carafe of Spring Wine. Hopefully she wasn't allergic to any of it.

He took the small teatowel he'd been using to put some plates in the oven, so they'd be warm by the time dinner was served, and threw it over one arm, then turned back to the pasta and sprinkled just a few herbs onto it to add to the flavour. As he did so, he had a contented smile on his expression, broken only when he opened his mouth to speak.

"Come on in".

He didn't look at the door as it opened, instead paying more attention to the pie, since he was making sure that the crust had fully expanded and cooked - he didn't want to poison his guest. Such wasn't a thing conducive to good conversation or relationships, for that matter. Besides, everything had to be just right when serving food for others. He was meticulous in that regard - something his mother had passed on in addition to reams of advice on how best to cook the sheer number of meals that she had in her culinary arsenal.

Entering the quarters brought back uncomfortable memories of when she was last in this room. It wasn't that the experience was bad – quite to the contrary, but it was not easy to remember without remembering the reasons that led her to Miramon in the first place, or her dishonest role in the charade. Walking further into the room, the aroma of the food hit her first before she saw him in the kitchen behind the oven. He looked relaxed, clad in black trousers and a loose, blue tunic. Ember hadn't dressed up either, appearing in her worn, work out attire. It was as though she wanted to emphasize how low a priority this was, that it didn't justify any effort on her part to dress up. Or, maybe, it was a failsafe – if this dinner got too boring, she could always run off to Plan B in the gym, without him.

"When you said dinner, I didn't realise it meant you were going to cook," Ember commented as he busied himself, a brow arched in surprise at the lengths he was going to.

Miramon turned around and gave her an amused smile. He was well aware that most people preferred to rely on replicators for food and drink, but he'd never liked that particular idea. Sure, it wasn't exactly easy getting fresh fruits and vegetables when aboard a ship, but they did have several hydroponics bays, after all, so he didn't have to worry too much about procuring fresh produce.

"It wouldn't be dinner if I let the replicator do the work. I can only enjoy food if there's effort put into the preparation. Besides, it tastes better. You'll see." he said, removing the pan that had the pasta boiling in it, and quickly drained the pale food of the excess water it had, before putting it into a ceramic serving dish and covering it with the lid so that the heat wouldn't escape too quickly. All he had to do was make sure the Katterpods were done, and get everything else served before he took the pie out of the oven.

"Anyway, make yourself comfortable. Dinner won't be too long."

He'd already taken the Moba Bread out of the oven, once it was done, then sliced it and put it onto a plate in staggered layers on the table, so Ember could feel free to nibble on that while he finished up the rest of the cooking. The smell of fresh bread was always pleasant, and he could never understand how people could eat bread that had been baked a few days beforehand. That said, he hadn't tried it himself, so he wasn't sure whether it would taste any good. Guess he'd find out.

Watching him work was interesting, since she had never actually cooked before. On the other hand, that might not be entirely accurate. Years and years ago, when her aunt was still alive, she had sometimes pattered her way into the kitchen and poked her nose into whatever she was doing, trying to help even though making a mess of it all. The bittersweet memory added a touch of wistfulness to her smile as she momentarily seemed pensive, lost in thought. But it was only a second, and she forcibly drew herself from the past she did not want to remember.

"It'll only be better if you are any good at cooking, you know," Ember pointed out, the sassy remark yet another attempt to be rude without being so overtly.

The smell of fresh bread filled the kitchen, suddenly enticing a soft rumble from her stomach, reminding her that the last time she ate anything was too many hours ago, and even then, it had only been a quick snack to tide her through the busy work shift. She didn't resist and took a slice of the bread, before taking a bite out of it. Maybe it was because she was starving, but it was absolutely delicious.

"Well, it's not *too* bad," She said in a noted understatement in between mouthfuls.

"If it were, you'd not have continued eating it, so at least I know it's not that bad. Of course, the best way to test food is to get someone else to eat it first. That way if there is anything wrong with it, I'd just get to observe the reactions, rather than experience them firsthand." Miramon noted with a wry smile, one that said if Ember had known that beforehand, she wouldn't have tested the bread.

He drained off the Katterpods, using the pan lid to let the water flow past it into the sink, while keeping the delicate beans from slipping out of the pan. These he put into another serving dish, the colour contrasting nicely with the pasta. Just an add of some Earth herb he'd taken a liking to while at the Academy to add a little presentation to it, and he picked up each dish in one hand and headed over to the table to put them down. All that was left were the plates and the pie.

A lot of people tended to eat off of cold plates, even given that the replicators could produce them at any temperature they desired, but he'd always been taught that when you served hot food on cold plates, a lot of the heat disappeared as a result of convection, and he never could abide food that was supposed to be served hot being cold. Admittedly, some of the best culinary chefs he knew of used that particular variation to make the meal interesting, but he wasn't going for anything quite so...experimentational.

The pie wasn't long in following, once he'd tested it to make sure the pastry was properly cooked - sometimes it browned on the top but not underneath as it expanded, but he hadn't expected that to be the case. He grabbed a metal serving spoon and dished out an ample portion into both the plates that he'd removed from the oven, then headed over to the table and laid them out on the placemats. It was usually better to do the servings of the main part of the meal separately, so that there wasn't any awkwardness as to who took what. As for the side dishes, you could eat as liberally or as sparsely from those as you wanted - which was the beauty of it.

"Okay, dinner is served. Going to sit down, or do you prefer to stand?"

"I would stand, since it might in fact, aid in digestion," Ember said, unable to fully keep from lacing her words with a hint of sarcasm, "But I think sitting would increase the probability of both of us getting out of this encounter alive and unharmed." She smiled as she pulled the chair back and took a seat, admittedly impressed – even if grudgingly so – by the sumptuous spread presented before her. Every dish looked delicious, more so because she knew it wasn't replicated, but carefully prepared.

She looked across the table at him, not touching the cutlery yet. "I want to make it clear first that just because I'm here, it doesn't mean that my stand towards our relationship or my feelings towards you have changed in any way. They haven't. I'm here because -" And she paused, for a moment unsure of how to proceed. Because of guilt? Because she was surprised that his offer of friendship actually, astoundingly seemed genuine? "Because I think you deserve at least *this* much." Ember continued with seeming conviction, not finished yet. "I'm not going to make a habit of accepting your dinner invitations, if at all, so don't expect that. You understand?"

If she had intended to join him for dinner to assuage her guilt for the deception she pulled on him, it was laughable. Seeing the effort he had poured into this dinner ordinarily would only make it worse. But, as she reminded herself, how much work he put into this was no business of hers. It was his one-sided, voluntary choice to give. She wasn't responsible.

Miramon stayed silent for a moment as he served up some of the pasta onto his plate, since Ember had the Katterpod beans situation closest to her, so she could take her fill of those, and then they could swap the two side dishes. He wasn't particularly surprised that this was the tack she was taking with him, although clearly she'd forgotten exactly what he'd said in the message he'd sent inviting her here in the first place. And as it was, he wasn't going to let her grudging acceptance spoil his mood.

"Most people wait until after they've tried the food to determine whether or not they'll come back for another serving later on. If it looks so bad that you make a decision before you eat any of it, you might want to eat down to Sickbay and have them issue you with anti-indigestion meds."

The Bajoran's tone wasn't at all sarcastic, but was more laced with a double-meaning which he suspected Ember might pick up on, but he wasn't too worried either way. He'd not invited her here to discuss their 'relationship' (or lack thereof), but just to talk, to show her that he was perfectly inclined to drop the whole thing (for now) and for them just to be friends.

"Now, are you gonna let the food get cold, or try Bajoran cooking made by an actual Bajoran?"

She was once again, taken by surprise – that he would so gallantly decide not to focus on the negativity between them. She didn't see it as avoidance; she knew it wasn't. Instead, he was showing her, rather than telling her of the goodwill behind this dinner. That realization drew a soft smile to her lips, and a touch of amusement at herself for directing so much energies to something she should let go of, as he had done.

"I have to admit that it's a first time for me," Ember said, for once since entering this room, sounding gentler and less barbed, initiating a conversation that wasn't a literal minefield as compared to the situation minutes ago. *That* was progress.

Picking up the cutlery on the table, she scooped a spoonful of the Katterpod beans and transferred them onto her plate. Then, with less hesitation, she put one into her mouth, slowly chewing on it to experience the taste in full. It didn't disappoint.

Miramon cut into the pie that was on his plate, concentrating on it for just a moment before looking back up at Ember. "My mother taught me to cook when I was a kid, during the Occupation. We had plenty of time on our hands, although I suppose she didn't, since she had three children to take care of. It's pretty difficult to get anything fresh aboard a starship, but fortunately, not many people aboard seem to do their own cooking, so Hydroponics was happy to give me some space to grow some of it myself. I don't suppose you cook yourself?" he asked, his tone polite and inquiring, since it never hurt to ask.

Still, given her original reaction to seeing him cooking, he doubted it, but it was intended more as an icebreaker than because he was particularly interested in the answer. Honestly, he'd not had any idea what they'd talk about once she got here, but her presence was sufficient enough to indicate that they hadn't drifted *that* far apart. And if nothing else, at least they could drop the whole thing on amiable terms.

She chuckled wryly, shaking her head. It still felt strange, to laugh in his presence – without sarcasm and without being perpetually locked in the mode of gritty offense. But, it was something she could probably get used to. Probably.

"No, I don't cook… I think I would likely cause a fire hazard in the kitchen if I ever tried," She smiled, continuing, "When I was younger though, I did sort of enjoy spending time in the kitchen when my aunt was cooking. Although I think it was more to make a mess of things than out of any genuine interest in the art." She said with a grin.

Now, what had made her go to admit that?

A gentle laugh was all she got in reply, for the moment. Miramon was busy working his way around the meal, breaking up the pie into manageable chunks with the use of both knife and fork. Once he was done, he looked back up and over the table at Ember.

"You should consider learning. It's really quite relaxing to do, and of course, the meal always tastes better at the end of it, simply because it's both fresh, and because you've taken time to prepare it. Although, I'm biased, so I would say that, right?"

It was completely incongruous, but the thought of her with an apron round her waist and muddling about in the kitchen, was hilarious to say the least. "I don't think I'll have the patience for it," Ember said with an amused laugh. It took too much time, and there was always the likelihood that she'd get bored before she was over and done with the cooking. Swallowing the entirely delicious bite of food she had taken though, there was something in that tasty satisfaction that made her stop for a second and think perhaps her conclusion had been a tad too harsh, that she might have been too quick to leap to it.

"But… maybe… one of these days, I may pick up a tip or two from you, who knows?" She added uncharacteristically. A shrug punctuated her statement, as usual, lessening its import.

It was nevertheless a start, and the evening continued into the night without any casualties, without any breaking items or shouting, and without expressions of outrage -- just the tentative companionable conversation of two people just getting to know each other.

"Collide" Part 1

1st Lt. 1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile
Lt. Cmdr. Brianna O'Shea
Julie (wrote by Stuart)
Szekely & Jannic (Wrote by Trey)

Szekely was sitting in the isolation cell reading some of the grafti on the walls when the alarms sounded. Then the complex was bathed in darkness and the sound of the cells opening echoed throughout the area. Standing up he wondered outside area where he saw prisoners rioting against the guards that had came here to keep the peace. Through the battle of it all, he saw with ease the man who he had talked with earlier scale the fence and soon was gone within the rough volcanic rock of the area around the complex.

Escaping the prison had been easy once the riot had started. It had been a simple case of opening cell doors and locking down the guards barracks. All of the controls easily accessible thanks to a lunatic Chief of Security. He had thanked Raschek properly by nailing his body to the wall and written 'I'll be right back you fat fuck!' for the Warden to find.

Tracking Anna had been another story all together. He had rested for nearly a day to let the wound heal up somewhat and tried to figure out what someone with Anna's limited training would have done. She wouldn't move too far out, at least not far by Baile's standard. Maybe three or four days out. After that there wasn't much to hide in. Three days out there was plenty of caves to hide in but also get trapped in.

Satisfied with the way his body was healing he had started moving. He had soon discovered one of the drawbacks with his new abilities. When the body healed it burned energy, energy he had to replace by stuffing himself with the rations he had stolen from the prison. He still had plenty left, but it annoyed him none the less. Two days out he had found the tracks he was looking for and after that it had been fairly simple hike to the area where he had figured Anna to head for. That had been the easy part.

Along the way Baile came across another set of prints. These prints where bigger, larger from a man. From the looks of it he was on Anna's trail as well. If anyone could tell he was military, it was Baile. He walked solid and sure of himself. He print was heavy, possibility carry a weapon or two. Right now as he walked said nothing, for he was a clone and this man had a mission to kill her and bring her body back for cloning. That's what this man, known only as Jannic was going to do.

Touching the edges of the print Baile weighed his options against one another. It looked like he wasn't the only one looking for Anna but that was something he had expected. Anything else would have been foolish. The tracks was maybe two days old and whoever it was wasn't overly concerned with stealth, not just yet anyway. Shifting the weight from the backpack and adjusting the straps he made his decision. He checked the wind one last time and started running, making sure his scent wouldn't be picked up too easily.

It had taken Jannic a couple hours, but now he was sure that the woman had paired up with young girl. There was another set of prints. Smile, like a child, slender is how he saw it was probably a girl's print. Kneeling down he looked at the prints and then looked over and saw in the crack in the rock a body. Moving over he saw it was a rotting form of a clone, looked very much like himself. Pulling his weapon he began to make his foot steps on the rock, as he began to follow closer to were the woman and girl where heading.

The wind had picked up, but luckily in the right direction. He was running straight up against the wind, his scent safe from whatever and whoever was in front of him. As the evening settled in and darkness covered the landscape Baile took a short break to refill the energy the body needed and continued running. He was not far behind now as the darkness didn't provide an obstacle for him.

Jannic knelt down and looked around. Breaking into his energy bars he took one out and took a bite and ate it slowly, before taking a drink from his water packet. Moving closer now to the caves he checked out the first one and found nothing, then he began to check out the others. Slowly making his way toward the one where Anna was with Julie.

awn peered up over the mountains when he felt the scent the first time. He stopped and crouched low, trying to determine just what he was up against. A male. Yes. Armed? Yes. Careful? No, not really. Hunting? Definitely. But so far he had seen little of no tracks of Anna. Yet it wasn't hard to tell he was in the right place. A rotting body told many stories. The way it had died told the most important one. Twenty minutes. No more. But he was getting tired. Very tired. He had been moving for almost two days straight now and unless he got some sleep within the next few hours he would start losing his edge, start to imagine things due to fatigue. Altered or not - he recognized the signs of fatigue.

Crouching down there outside the cave, little way from where Anna and the child was. He was the latest in fighting clones, stronger, quicker and more cunning then anything they had sent out before against her. Moving now he approached the cave, slowly, making his way toward the opening he remained in the blind spot as he approached.

Baile was running. Fast. He had been scouting the area when he had seen the figure. Goddammit! There was no way in hell he had gone to this armpit of a planet just to see Anna get killed in front of his eyes. He needed to know if she had revealed the code to anyone or if she had just gone for blind luck. The first would get her killed. He was still deciding on the latter.

Anna had hushed Julie was crawling over into the blind spot of the Cave. Jannic was so close she could hear his foot steps on the rock. Gripping her make shift knife she held it tightly in her hand. When Jannic came into sight, she leapt out of the cave almost like a lioness attacking her prey. They fell to the ground fighting back and forth, until Jannic grabbed her arm and twisted it as her hand with the knife found a opening in the clone's armor and tore into his flesh.

The hunter stopped on a ridge some fifteen feet up. He crouched down watching the scene play out. Instincts he didn't understand took over. Measuring. Weighing. He was stronger than Anna. Faster. She was lucky. Luck never lasted. He sat still, one hand resting on the very edge of the cliff, ready to drop down.

The clone brought his leg up and flung Anna off him against the rock. Standing Jannic approached her and came around with a round house kick, sheer force of it twisting Anna in the air as she came down hard against the rock. She had been running for months, she was wounded her health was seriously in trouble. It had to be hard for Baile to even think this was her, her hair almost black with dried blood and dirt, skin which was once beautiful and soft was now dirty and rough. Just about the only thing that made her Brianna was the fact she got back up and shoved a palm into Jannic's face, but the force of it was lost as he picked her up and body slammed her on the rock, forcing Anna to realize this was it for her life...

The man wasn't a bad fighter. He showed initiative, imagination and a feel for combat. Anna... was still an Engineer. Still she had survived in the middle of nowhere. The marine pulled the knife out of the sheath and looked at the blade for a second. It was a lot sharper now than when he found it. A beautiful tool of the trade. Watching the man slam Anna on the rock Baile launched himself into the air and fell down.

Jannic was about to finish the woman off when he looked up and saw man or something fall down on him. Tossing him off he kicked the man in the side and double punch to the face before he could do anything the man retaliated.

"Collide" Part 2

1st Lt. 1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile
Lt. Cmdr. Brianna O'Shea
Julie (wrote by Stuart)
Jannic (Wrote by Trey)

Easy. Too easy. Baile felt disappointed. The man was strong, but not as strong as Baile had hoped. The kick to the side managed to hit the pink scar where Raschek had stabbed him. But just as suddenly as the pain flared up it died down when the body shut it down. He bobbed away from a fourth punch and released one of his own at full strenght. The sheer force of the impact sent the man flying backwards.

Groaning he rolled and got back up and charged Baile. Tackling Baile, Jannic got off a series of punches. But before he could do much more, Anna had found Jannic's gun and fired a single shot hitting Jannic in the side and throwing him off Baile. Once he was down, she turned the gun toward Baile. After all, it had been nearly a year and Baile no longer looked as she remembered him. Taking him for a bush warrior as she had come to call those after her.

It wasn't the sound of the gun that set him off. It was the limp body. His enemy. HIS kill! She, a weak human, stole his kill! Without him she would have died! Baile didn't know he could move as quickly as he did. It was as if the instincts took over. A feral look crossed his face as he charged her. One hand grabbed the gun and tore it from Anna, sending it ten feet behind him with a twist of the wrist. His other hand grabbed her by the throat and lifted her from the ground Fury burned inside of him, a fury he didn't understand.

Anna couldn't say anything, her body was battered and broken. After everything that has happened, she welcomed death from this stranger and her closed calling for him to give her what she was now longing for, to just be put to death.

The fury inside of him didn't fade. Instead he managed to redirect it at himself. Slowly he lowered her to the ground until she was laying down. She had lost a lot of weight, gained scars and a few other fairly bad smelling things as well. He crouched down beside her and removed the water bottle from his backpack. "Anna..."

The voice was familiar, like a distant dream. Forcing her eyes to open she looked at the man's face. Bringing her hand up she touched his face thinking it was just another hallucination or another voice inside her head. "Rooster?" She whispered, her voice was hard and rigged from being dehydrated.

Julie just stood there as the man had attacked her new friend. She was so frightened. It had reminded her of what one of the prisoners had done to her mother shortly before she had disappeared. She had been scared then and she was scared now. And then the second man had appeared, leaping from the rock towards the two of them.

But after the first man had been killed and the second had jumped the woman, she was jolted into action. She scrambled over the rocks and found the weapon lying at the base of a rock. Reaching down, she grabbed the weapon and clutched it in her shaking hands. Having never seen one up close before, she didn't really have any idea what to do, or how to use it. But she had to try.

"You leave her alone mister.... or else!" She said, fearfully.

When the man turned around and growled slightly, she took several steps back, and didn't relax her grip on the weapon until the woman assured her that he was a friend. She lowered the gun and passed it to the man when he reached out for it. She looked up at the strange new arrival. "Hi, how are you? Are you new here? I haven't seen you around here before, so you must be new. I've lost my mommy, have you seen her?"

The little girl had no idea how close she had come to dying when she had aimed the gun at Baile. His first instinct had been to throw the knife he had straight in her chest. The adrenaline had flowed freely inside him, but he had stopped. Not on account of the girl, but for Anna's sake. There had been a brief glimpse of.. panic.. in Anna's eyes when she had seen the gun being aimed at him. A worry. A worry for the girl, not for him.

He looked at the girl from behind his dark goggles for a few seconds before getting back up on his feet. "No." was all he said as he turned and walked over to the injured man he had been fighting earlier. He straddled the bleeding man and grabbed a fistful of hair from behind. With a single fluid motion he pulled his knife, bent the head backwards and slit the man's throat from ear to ear. Leave no one behind.

Kneeling down on the ground, Anna was so tried. Looking at Baile she knew what he was doing. She'd done that so many times before. No survives told anything of value. Anna was ready to lay down and let death take her, but as she looked at Baile something inside her ignited hope. "Marines.... where are the marines?" Anna asked, thinking he came with a full on assault team to level this damn place.

The marine wiped the blade clean on the assailants pants while the crimson red blood flowed freely from the wound, coloring the ground dark. "No one knows you're here, Newbie.. "

Lifting her head she looked at him not understanding. "What... do you mean... think I'm dead?" She asked, then she looked at the body and it clicked. ~Oh god...~ She then began to get angry. Had she been that easy to be replaced that no one, none of her friend or anyone had known!?

Baile watched her anger practically ooze out of her. Running a hand across his face he couldn't help but to smirk at her. "You're going to wish it was that easy, Newbie.."

"Since they didn't know... you shouldn't have came then. Just let me die here if I'm already dead to them!" Anna snapped.

Julie watched the unfolding events with interest. The new arrival kinda looked funny, but in a really scary way. She didn't trust him but it seemed her new friend did, so she was willing to give him a chance. She stood up from her seat on a rock and dusted her behind, leaving a cloud of dust to blow gently away from her. She started walking towards the woman, this 'Newbie' as the man had called her. She tugged the hem of the outfit that Anna was wearing. "Is he here to take you away Newbie?" She asked, not realizing that the term 'Newbie' wasn't her name.

Looking to the girl, Anna shook her head. "My name isn't... newbie..." Anna said then looked back to Baile. "My name is... Anna." She said, even now her Irish accent seemed to still show under the mess.

"Oh, sorry. He, " She pointed towards the newcomer, "called you 'Newbie' twice so I thought that was your name."

"Collide" Part 3

1st Lt. 1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile
Lt. Cmdr. Brianna O'Shea
Julie (wrote by Stuart)

Anna dismissed the girl for a second as pain rattled her body.

"My mommy has been gone for ages an' I don't think she's coming back. I got no one else. Can I come with you?" She asked, though it was more bordering on pleading.

"I'm not sure if we are getting off this planet..." Anna said then sat down before she fell down.

He removed the goggles from his head and turned a pair of almost mercury-colored eyes towards the girl. The child, despite being weaker than both Anna and Baile, had one advantage over the female human. She saw the world with new eyes and a mind not dulled by years of living.

The marine saw the child twitch ever so slightly when their eyes met. She, a mere child, understood better than any adult what Baile really was. Even better than Baile did himself.

"Newbie.." Baile said to Anna but kept his eyes on the girl. There was something... odd.. about her. "No one knows I'm here.. "

"I... see.." Anna said looking at him.

He brushed some dirt from his pants. "Someone sent a POW message using an old Crow-code. You're the only one that knew that particular code-phrase." Slowly he looked at her with the new eyes he had been given. He could see the pulse throb on her neck, hear her heartbeats.

"They," Anna said meaning the Crows. "Worried I'd... give.. up what.. secrets I know.. about you all?" Anna said, almost finding that funny.

He didn't move. He just sat there, crouched low, ready to move in the blink of an eye. There was no need to say what he was there for.

Had she explained the code to anyone else? He would know if she was lying. The tired female human in front of him knew that.

"You.. came prematurely then. I don't.. give up secrets. Besides... think... I'm stupid enough... to think... you still use that... code actively?" She asked then shook her head. "I needed... someone to see and send someone.... I knew you'd come... even if it was to kill me... you'd come." Anna said as she sat there.

"You wouldn't... come... without... a way off this rock." She said then.

The marine didn't confirm that he had, but nor did he deny it. He was still deciding on whether to kill her or not. Taking her along would only decrease his own chances of survival, but he was certain she was telling the truth about not having told anyone about the code. "You're not strong enough for the trip back.."

"Bullshit... let me rest just a second and I can move. I will not die on this rock." Anna said as she looked a the girl and then back to Baile. "I don't know.. what has happened to you... Rooster, somewhere... inside you... know it's me." Anna said.

"I know nothing, Newbie.. You smell like you and you talk like you.. but so do your clone.. "

"Least I look better then you..." Anna said then looked around for the transmitter. "Kid.... bring me my bag." Anna said as she gestured toward the cave.

Julie nodded to Anna and scurried into the cave to get her bag. It didn't look that heavy but weighed a little more than she expected. She made it back to the duo and handed the bag to her.

Once Julie brought it over she handed it to Baile. "You once told me I was a damn good engineer cause I fix the mount on your rifle.... look at that.... tell me... you don't think I'm a damn good engineer."

The marine chuckled. "I never said you weren't.. You're a good engineer.. "she looked at him. "alright.. a damn good engineer.. But a lousy soldier.. " he said and held up his hand before she could interrupt him. "I don't think you fully appreciate the conundrum caused by your clone."

"Collide" Part 4

1st Lt. 1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile
Lt. Cmdr. Brianna O'Shea
Julie (wrote by Stuart)

Anna looked at him as if she was looking through him. ~A Clone...~ She thought in her mind, no he didn't say that. Couldn't been that easy for them... could it?

He could see how the words 'your clone' sunk into her mind. "No one have missed you because you never left. You have been on the Galaxy the whole time.. Now that clone, wearing your face, speaking with your voice, has left the Galaxy with what I assume must be a fair number of surprises behind her.. "

"Then... I need to get back... find them." Anna said, looking at him. "Who better to find something she did, then the original herself?" Anna said, her chest was hurting.

"I can take you back... but life as you knew it onboard will have changed for you... and not just because you have been here.. " he stopped and put the goggles back on. "If you go back everyone onboard will see you - the traitor. Inside their minds they will know you're not the clone - but there will always be some doubt.. The Hydrans have become damn good at cloning humans now.. Their eyes will see the woman that betrayed their precious Federation, the woman that put a dent in their priceless garbage hauler.. "

Watching him she looked at the girl then back to Baile. "I've been here..." she trailed off, she wasn't even sure anymore how long she'd been here. "Long enough to learn that.... what people think of me.. no longer matters." Anna said watching him. "I understand now what you meant long ago... when all else is lost, all you have is yourself... I met myself here, past, present... now I've got to find the future."

"Anna," Julie said, looking up at the woman, "we should leave. They will come looking for that one." She indicated the now dead corpse of the clone lying nearby. "And I think they will come after him." She pointed towards the marine. She couldn't for the life of her explain why she felt that they would come after the man, but she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her believe that they would.

Nodding she began to get up. Clawing herself to the rock face until she was standing up. "She's right, we need to get moving." Anna said. "Clones are getting faster.."

Baile stood up from his crouching position. The fatigue had already begun to leave his body. What the hell was going on? He hadn't rested yet and now he was starting to feel refreshed again. He didn't like it. That meant, somehow, the body used energies he didn't know anything about. In the middle of nowhere that was never a good idea.

"Is there anyway you can use the transmitter to get us off this world?" Anna asked Baile as they began to move along the alcroping of rock.

He shook his head and touched his head with his hand. Damn hair had started growing. Sadly enough the knife wasn't sharp enough to shave without some grease to soften it u