“Peckerwood” Part One

(Slight Back post – set after ‘Hand over’ end of last mission, beginning of this one)

Primary character:
Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Acting Assistant Chief of Engineering

Time always seems to go fast when you’re consumed in the task you are performing. It slips away like water through a sieve; always working against you. But on evenings like this one, time stood still; snails could move faster.

Since hearing about what O’Shea had done, Dhani couldn’t concentrate on anything. No matter the task, all that was running through her mind was O’Shea. It was annoying to say the least. Dhani didn’t really much care for the Chief, to tell the truth she quite despised the ever so ‘warm’ welcome that she received form her commanding officer and therefore was not too enamoured with the woman herself.

But still, it was hard to believe that she would turn her back on Starfleet, she was always so prim and proper. Though they always said that it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for. Even so, Dhani was still bothered; the old sayings were never comforting, even if they were true.

As she continued to work her mind ran over every encounter with O’Shea that she could remember, looking for some indication that she would defect. Analysing and over analysing every word that was ever uttered. She came rapidly to the conclusion that she had never really spoken with the woman. In fact, it came clearer and clearer that she had never had a conversation other than work related. Dhanishta ran the night shift, and Roswell ran the early morning shift and O’Shea the one that followed and Grey the one that followed that. Dhanis hand-over was from Grey and then she gave her own brief to Roswell and rarely came into contact with the Chief.

The only real conversation that she could recall was one from before her coma, when they first met. The ship was undergoing a refit after the battle of Haravars. Dhani herself was under a lot of strain, sleep deprived and exhausted from the battle, she like so many others had a lucky escape and consequently she was spouting a lot of crap about the sip being cursed. At the time she genuinely believed that the ship was, and even now the thought crossed her mind on more than one occasion, but in truth she believed that she herself was cursed.

She shivered as a chill swept through her bones. Staring down at the screen and its dull readouts she sighed at the passing of time. Frowning as she tried to recall the details of her first encounter with O’Shea; their conversation had been brief, and Dhani had been vague, in fact she was so confused at that time and hurt from the battle, not just physically but emotionally too. Starfleet was about first contact and peace, and for the last few years she had seen nothing but death and destruction. It hurt more than a knife through her heart. She signed up and took an oath, and it wasn’t so she could be a pawn in the political games of the rest of the neighbouring quadrants.

She wanted to explore, meet new cultures and really be part of the heart of Starfleet’s core purpose. She didn’t want to sit in her quarters and worry if she would survive the next encounter. Earth had its traitorous moments too, with the bombings during the Dominion war, but the Galaxy… it was just one catastrophe after another.

She could sit and catalogue every near death and also death moment that she had encountered on the Galaxy. Let’s see, first there was the time paradox that killed the crew and left her stranded on an alien planet for 30 odd years. Then there was the battle of Haravars and then the Diptharu. And in-between all that she had her own personal battles; first she had died in Michael’s arms, then later on there was the duel personality with Naught, and again she died, then there was the moment in the corridor when she was blasted off into space during the battle of Haravars, then there was the empathic eco of Samara, then the fight with Suder that rendered her unconscious for nine months, and upon waking up from that nightmare the Diptharu attacked the ship, almost as if they were her welcome back committee. She smiled slightly, if during her nine months of down time the ship enjoyed plain sailing then she would concluded that she herself was actually the curse, but she wasn’t ready to find out. Instead she checked the time again and a wave of relief washed over her as she saw it was ‘home time’!

Lucky for her someone else was telling Roswell the exciting events of the night shift, (that consisted of absolutely nothing) which meant that she could just clock out and leave without having to talk to her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Roswell, it was just that she knew Roswell’s opinion on O’Shea, and right now she was still in denial mode, no matter what she felt personally for the woman. It just didn’t sit right.

Slipping out from the hubbub, or rather the silence, of engineering, Dhani made her way the officers deck. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the guard outside O’Shea’s quarters or the fact that they were sealed, but she just hadn’t thought that far ahead.

As she walked up to the door she tried to formulate a game plan for getting into O’Shea’s quarters. She also needed a reason for wanting to go in and look at the Chiefs belongings. It had of course crossed her mind that security and intelligence had already combed over the room and all its contents, but still she felt the need to go in and poke around.

Smiling warmly at the security guard she made her approach, purposefully; trying to project an air of authority.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but these quarters have been sealed.” The man stated clutching his rifle across his chest in an attempt to intimidate her from proceeding.

Dhani smiled in return, “As far as I am aware Intelligence and Security have finished their investigation of these quarters?” she innocently questioned.

He nodded, “Yes ma’am they have.”

“Then why is the room still sealed?” Dhani questioned. Sometimes security officers could be extremely stupid.

The guard frowned, and for a moment it seemed as if his only brain cell had temporarily stepped out to have a word with itself. “Orders.” He stated frowning still, knowing that she had caught him out, and trying to recover.

Dhani wracked her brain for a moment nodding slightly. If the man was told to go and take a long walk of a short cliff he probably would if it was ‘orders’. “Well I have my orders too. And at the moment you are in my way.”

“I haven’t received notification that anyone is to enter these quarters.” He said puzzled.

“Well why don’t you go and check that out with your superior and when you’re done come and tell me, in the mean time I must be getting on with my duties.” She took a step forward, hoping that she had outwitted him. But as the rifle turned rather menacingly in her direction she stopped and stared at the guard. A questioning and slightly insulted look crossed her features as she scowled at him.

“Waite here.” He said. Turning from her he tapped his combadge and contacted security.

Dhani sighed and pulled back. She knew she would be sent away, left with her troubled thoughts for comfort until she just had to act and would then breach orders and sneak in anyways, and probably get hauled up in the brig.

After a moment the guard turned back to her, “Who are you?”

Dhani frowned, “Eshe.” She said simply.

The guard repeated her name and then turned back; double take, “Eshe from Engineering?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Lieutenant Eshe, assistant chief?” he asked.

Dhani began to nod and she was about to correct him; she was in fact a ‘junior grade’ lieutenant and an ‘acting’ assistant chief, but before she could speak he broke in.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” he asked slightly annoyed.

Dhani stared at him bemused.

“You have clearance.” He said whilst closing the com channel.

The wrinkles on Dhani’s forehead deepened.

“You can go in Sir.” He said resuming his post at the door.

Dhani stared at him for a few seconds longer before cautiously stepping up to the door. She keyed in her access code and expected it to beep in rejection, set off several alarms and suddenly have an entire garrison of troops standing behind her with locked and loaded phayser rifles.

The door opened.

Dhani was even more confused, but she stepped inside, and paused while the door closed behind her.

It was funny in a way; she believed that she carried no weight on this ship, and she had to admit that being assistant chief, even acting, could in fact give her a huge power trip. She smiled at the thought and then pushed it aside, reminding herself that she was only ‘acting’ and like all things in life it wouldn’t last and as soon as they replaced the Chief she would resume her normal activities; of being a nobody. And if she did take the power trip and run with it she would likely find herself more ostracised than she already was. And life was tough enough in engineering what with the xenophobic Grey, the love sick Jiiles, the defective O’Shea, the rumours about Suder, the… the list went on and on.

She closed her eyes and let out a long cleansing sigh to silence her mind for a moment.

Looking around she felt a little disgusted; the room was a total tip. She knew that intelligence and security were doing their job but why did they have to ransack O’Sheas quarters? It was the height of rudeness, before she defected they all loved O’Shea, thought that she was the best Chief the Galaxy had ever had. Even though Dhani thought differently and partly hated O’Shea, she did respect her. And maybe it was just because this defecting thing didn’t make sense that she found she still did respect her.

Her chest felt heavy as she walked into the centre of the room, trying desperately not to step on photos, paperwork, pads and god only knew what else that littered the floor. When Dhani died her sister had been there to collect her belongings, and cause Dhani didn’t feel at home it had been easy for Kala, cause pretty much everything was still in cargo crates. But this room, this space was lived in; knick-knacks littered the room, mainly the floor now though, photos of friends and family, good times had been on display, the table was used for hosting dinner parties, the dogs bowl was on the floor, with food still….. Dog bowl…. PECKERWOOD!

Dhanis eyes widened. She rushed towards the door, skidding on O’Shea’s memories as she did, no longer caring about the woman’s personals. She banged the door panel and toppled out of the room grabbing the security guard for support. “Where’s Peckerwood?” Dhani demanded a little breathless from the ride down the avalanche of crap.

“Peckerwhat?” he replied trying to steady her and also prise her hands off his clean uniform.

“Peckerwood!” Dhani repeated getting her balance.

He stared blankly at her.

Dhani elaborated, “little black thing, walks on all fours, has a tail that it wags constantly… mans’ best friend and all that.”

Nothing, not even a blink.

“A Friggin dog man…. The woman had a dog, now where the hell is it?”

“Oh he’s in the kennels.” He replied somewhat bemused at her panic over a traitors pet.

Dhani frowned, “She didn’t take him with her?” she questioned allowed.

“Yes Ma’am, O’Shea took her dog with her which is why he’s in the kennels.”

Dhanis eyes narrowed, “Don’t get factious with me mate! I’ll have you hauled into the brig for insubordination!” To Dhanis surprise the man snapped to attention quicker than she could click her fingers.

“No Ma’am,” he said as his eyes flicked forward and began to boar a hole in the wall, “Sorry Ma’am.”

Dhani stared at him for a few seconds waiting for him to crack up and start laughing or something. ~Should I tell him I was joking?~ she questioned her self never expecting that someone would ever take her word seriously, but a new problem arose, “Since when did we have a ‘kennels’ on board?”

“Peckerwood” Part Two

(Slight Back post – set after ‘Hand over’ end of last mission, beginning of this one)

Primary character:
Lieutenant (Jg) Dhanishta Eshe
Acting Assistant Chief of Engineering

It took a while but Dhani did eventually find the Kennels. It wasn’t until she walked through the door mind you that she believed that they actually had one. She supposed in hind sight that she should have checked it out sooner; after all she did have a pet cat… though Salem wasn’t really a pet, more of a companion. Half the time Dhani didn’t know where he was! She wasn’t sure if it was Twister or Michael that drove him out of the apartment, or if it was herself.

Salem used to be her one and only friend, as pathetic as that sounded. She had morphed with him, explored with him; he had always been with her. Even when she was in a coma on Trill he hadn’t left, apparently. Dhani had no recollection of those events, apart from waking up. It was from that point on though that she noticed a decline on the ‘friendship’ she had with her cat. He no longer came up unexpectedly when she was down and just jump into her lap and curl up. He no longer spent each night on her bed. All she saw of him now was his shadow and the marks from where he had been. It saddened her some, but she was completely unaware of how to change it, how the hell do you reconnect with a cat?

She was sure that there was some manual somewhere of how to ‘talk’ to your pet cat, but Dhani knew Salem too well, he would find that condescending seeing as she could talk to him whenever she wanted. She knew he understood her and in a way she understood him. And so she left him to his own devises, when he was ready to tell her what was on his little feline brain he would come and sit with her. In the mean time she had to get on with things. He would call if he was hurt anyways.

So here she was standing out side of the door, and all she could hear was howling! After readjusting to the noise and readying herself for the volume increase she stepped in.

There were several harassed looking members of staff; she bypassed them! She knew where she was going now that she was inside; follow the sound.

“Excuse me Miss, can I help you?” the clerk at the desk asked looking slightly annoyed that someone had just strolled past her.

Dhani shrugged, “The one that is screaming,” Dhani said looking slightly peeved, “Peckerwood.”

The woman frowned, “I’m sorry…?”

“The Chief of Engineering’s dog, Peckerwood. Where is he?” as if she didn’t know. She began to edge down the hallway.

“Who are you?” the woman asked.

Dhani smiled to herself, “Assistant Chief of engineering. I am here to collect O’Shea’s dog.”

The woman gave Dhani a look of distaste, “Oh yes,” she muttered sarcastically, “the traitor.”

Dhanis hackles rose, “Call her that again and I will have you up on charges of slander. O’Shea has neither been tried nor charged with any offence.” She took a step closer to the woman, her demeanour aggressive, “I suggest that you make it your business to get on with your job, instead of listening to ship gossip. If I hear of you telling tails again, you will be in serious trouble. And believe me when I say that I will know if you have!” Dhanis eyes flamed as they boar holes into the woman standing, shaking, before her.

“Now, do you think you can do me the small task of retrieving Peckerwood from the cage that you put him in?”

Five minutes later Peckerwood emerged, trembling, tail between his legs, whining constantly.

The first thing Dhani noticed was the muzzle. Enraged she bit down on her tongue and stopped herself from screaming at them, instead she tried the polite version. Taking the lead from the handler she smiled at the assistant, “Please get me your superior, NOW!” well she did say *try*!

As her voice resonated around the room she noticed a distinct lack of techs as most of them scuttled to the rooms at the back, probably to bitch about her. She wasn’t too bothered by what they thought of her, what she was bothered by was the state that Peckerwood was in. She had to admit that she had only ‘met’ the dog once, but this was like a totally different animal. Someone had to take responsibility for that.

It took yet another fifteen minutes before anyone came out, probably hoping that the longer they kept her waiting the more likely she was to piss off. But they were going to have no such luck today.

Dhani watched for movement from the rooms concealed at the back of the reception area, tapping her foot getting more and more annoyed as time ticked on. She supposed that she should be comforting the petrified dog that stood in the centre of the room, but first she had to release her anger!

“My name is Yadanie.” A voice announced.

Dhani looked up, and up a little bit more. The woman before her was a clear foot taller than Dhani. She was very slim, and had legs to die for. Her hair was neatly groomed so that is shined and glimmered in the light, a clear contrast from Dhani who was bony with dry, tatty hair, dirty fingernails and scuff patches in her trousers.

Dhani wondered for a moment if she should get a new uniform, one that was spandex perhaps, show off just how skinny she was, all her curves. She too could also go to the dog grooming parlour and get her coat to be all glossy and shinny, maybe even get her nails clipped, but ah yes, she wasn’t a bitch….!

“I am the supervisor of this facility here on the Galaxy.” Yadanie continued.

“You don’t appear to do your job very well.” Dhani remarked.

Yadanie smiled, one of those smiles that you just wanted to pummel. It was total text book training when confronted with a dispute, stay calm and smile. Unfortunately this was a patronizing smile, the woman was just patronising all over really. One should really learn to use the training to its utmost advantage, changing it when needed and adapting it to fit different situations. This woman had no skill.

“What appears to be the problem?” Yadanie asked still in that soft sultry tone of calmness.

Dhani frowned, “I thought that would be obvious.” She replied, “This dog,” she pointed to the whining peckerwood, “is traumatised. Not only is he wearing a muzzle…”

Yadanie broke in, “I’m sorry that we had to muzzle him, and I’m sorry that it upsets you. But I had to issue that order for the safety of my staff.”

“Safety?” Dhani asked, “He’s tiny, couldn’t hurt a fly!”

Yadanie smiled again, a smug one, “Well after biting one of my staff I beg to differ. In fact we were thinking about putting him down as he was a danger to others.”

Dhani fumed…a danger! Did anyone here actually know how to look after an animal? “Peckerwood is not dangerous, far from it he is docile, compliant and extremely affectionate. You are incapable of doing your job, that is the problem and it is you that should be put down. Do you actually have any training?” Dhani didn’t even stop to let the woman reply, the answer was obvious, “That really was a stupid question wasn’t it? It is obvious from the sate of this dog that you don’t. He is mal-nourished, his coat is dull, he is traumatised and the gods only know what else. This dog was a picture perfect companion and you have in the space of a few days turned him into a trembling wreck. I hope that you are satisfied. If this was a person I would be putting you up on charges of abuse. If I ever see any of you again, you will be in for the hiding of your life. UNDERSTOOD?”

Dhani turned sharply from the expression of shock on the woman. Kneeling down she removed the leash and muzzle from Peckerwood and then stood, “I’d take cover if I were you, the dangerous dog is loose!” she mocked.

Marching to the door, fuming with anger she looked back at Peckerwood. For a moment he stopped trembling to cock his leg up and pee on the floor, before slowly walking out of the door behind Dhani.

"Where was the mercy?" Pt 1

Cmdr Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor/Nurse
Lt. Cmdr Brianna O'Shea
Ensign Kio, Medical Officer
Ensign Zev Raynor, Intelligence Officer
Provisional Ensign Vorducaat, Medical Doctor
With couple security officers

:: Sickbay, USS Galaxy ::

The medical personnel had been alerted there was a medical emergency and the patient would be arriving via transport. No one knew when the patient would be arriving or who it was, for security reasons. SO when the whine of the transporter began to sound and then form began to take shape. It was a surprise for all those present, it was Brianna O'Shea. Security came into the room and brought their weapons up and held them on the woman, could this be the clone or was this the real Brianna O'Shea.

Once she was released from the transporter, Anna turned. Her once bright vibrate red hair was so dirty and matted to her head that it looked like brown. Her face dirty and smattered with dried blood, her full lips cracked and showing signs of malnutrition. Anna's eyes were distant as if she wasn't really here. When the medical personnel moved toward her she brought up her hands and backed away, her hands were blistered, bruised, dirty and looked as if she were locked in something where she had dug herself out.

She'd been humiliated, starved, beaten, sexually assaulted and hunted. Fact was she had survived, but at what price? Sinking down onto the floor, she just sat there for now looking at them looking at her.

Raynor entered following the security personnel, armed to the teeth though none of the weapons he was carrying were standard issue. Two sidearm holstered under each of his arms, and two wakizashi style phasers. He however wasn't paying attention to O'Shea yet, his attention turned towards a PADD he carried in his hand.

He turned his attention to O'Shea after he finished reading the PADD. His face did not carry its usual joy, smile, or happiness that the crew were used to seeing. It was completely unreadable to the to anyone who cared to look in his direction. As if he were part of the wall behind him, inspite of the weapons he carried. The only thing that truly stood out about him was his eyes which were intensely gazing upon the battered woman before him, though it was impossible to tell which emotion was in his eyes.

A small thought crossed his mind while he maintained his outward demeanor... closing his eyes for only a second. 'This is me... so many years ago...' And then the second past, as his stare continued upon the figure that appeared to be Lieutenant Commander Brianna O'Shea.

Ensign Kio showed no sign of outward surprise at the arrival of the Lieutenant Commander. Medical had been made ready for a patient, but there had been no specific details given. Maybe she wondered at the state of the patient and the heavy security escort that brought her to sickbay, perhaps she drew her own conclusions. But the woman was in urgent need of medical care and Kio lost no time in doing what she could.

Ignoring the intimidating presence of the security detail she retrieved her medical scanner and approached Brianna where she still sat upon the floor. The smell that came from the woman, which might have been considered bad by a human, was almost overwhelming to Kio's sensitive Vulcan nose but she resisted the urge to do anything so unprofessional as to gag."Please, lay your-self upon the biobed and I will examine you." She told the woman, her voice edged with gentleness and not in keeping with her usual mechanical tone.

It was unusual for Karyn to report to sickbay for anything other than shipwide emergencies (when counseling appointments were clearly not likely), or when she was scheduled for her weekly nursing shift (which she did to keep her skills sharp). But in this case, her concern and curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself in sickbay, half expecting to be pushed out of the way.

The sight that greeted her was beyond surreal. To say the woman she vaguely recognized as Brianna O'Shea was battered was a supreme understatement. What clothing remained on her body was caked in dirt and torn almost in shreds. The parts of her that were not covered with clothing, if the material that clung to her could still be called clothing, were also covered, in this case with bruises of all shades as well as cuts and sores which looked to Karyn to be of all different depths, some shallower than others, but all of them bleeding. From her vantage point, O'Shea's body was also covered in filth, and with the mix of blood, the dirt was an odd shade.

Karyn's eyes traveled slowly up to O'Shea's face, feeling somewhat guilty for staring at someone so unabashedly when she was clearly so vulnerable, so raw. When Dallas' gaze finally reached the woman's eyes, the hollow, glassy stare sent chills up and down her spine. Even as the counselor in her tried to remind her that they didn't know all of the facts and couldn't assume the absolute worst of abuses, the scared little girl in her, the part of her that still recalled looking in the mirror and seeing the exact expression looking back at her as if it were yesterday, just...knew.

What part of her mind that could still register the absurdity of it, that for eleven months the woman they knew to be Brianna O'Shea was actually enduring such horror while they all lived comfortably, didn't know where to begin to treat her. The curse and the blessing of being a trained counselor and medical professional was knowing the importance of not moving too quickly in order to gain trust, and yet feeling compelled to rush because she could be dying as they sat there.

She knew security had a reason to be concerned, but she also knew that having weapons drawn was not going to foster the trust they needed if they were going to be of any help.

Anna didn't move from the floor where she was sitting. She didn't know any of them, they were as alien to her as the ones that had taken her. Looking at them she knew they were like her, but beyond that who were they and could she trust them? She'd tried to trust ones that looked like her before, it only ended in a struggle for her life. When she saw the security come in with their weapons drawled she pulled a metal strip from her boot, clearly she had fashioned a weapon.

Kio saw that the woman was reacting to the security staff as a creature about to defend itself from certain death; it was in every line of her body and the dim light still burning in her hollow eyes. She knew that look, it was entirely feral, there was far more wrong with the Lieutenant Commander than simple physical injuries. Reasoning with Brianna was clearly not an option; she needed to be treated as a frightened animal, reassured by gentle treatment. Kio felt infinitely unqualified to be in such a position but at that moment there was no one else without a weapon in hand and she was the closest to her.

Edging further into the woman's line of sight she held her hands up, palms facing out and tried to pull the edges of her mouth up in a smile. The result was not at all an endearing sight but as Kio could not see her-self she persevered.

"Please be still, you are safe... no one here wishes to harm you. I need to see to your injuries... stop the pain you are feeling. Do you understand?" She spoke carefully, keeping her voice soft. Whether it was the words that she spoke or the dreadful grimace Kio was pulling she managed to get Brianna's attention.

"You... do not... understand pain!" Anna said sharply. Her hand gripped the make shift knife so hard it cut into her hand. This was the same knife she used to kill with on the planet. Same knife she slept with and held close. In a lot of ways it was her sole means of security and survival.

Karyn saw the would be weapon and knew Anna had drawn it out of instinct. The former engineer was clearly in no shape to defend herself. "Holster your weapons," Karyn ordered quietly, but clearly and firmly enough that it was clear she'd take no argument.

The security officers turned to Raynor, making it just as clear they weren't going to obey the Commander's orders without his support. He after all given the duty of determining whether or not she was a clone.

It didn't escape Karyn's attention the other security officers looked to Raynor before obeying her orders, and if it weren't for the fact she had other more pressing concerns, she would have called them on it right there. As the Galaxy's Second Officer, not to mention the senior officer in the room, they were expected to defer to her authority.

Dallas was not one to harp such issues generally, but such action was clearly not going to foster a smooth chain of command

But Raynor hadn't drawn his any of his weapons... he wasn't even worried about the knife, knowing he could disarm her nearly instantaneously if it came to that... but he could see that the security staff could make the tortured woman edgy, and he didn't want to provoke any thing else that would trigger even more aggressive behavior. For the purposes of treating her wounds he was willing to make her feel at home.

"Exit sickbay, and take vantage points from which you can see the doors clearly... do not stand guard next to the doors, that will leave you open to get stabbed in the back. If she exits without escort or holding a hostage open fire without hesitation," Raynor ordered with a strict military voice.

The security officers nodded and exited sickbay.

Inwardly, Dallas blanched. If the girl was as traumatized as she appeared, there was a very real possibility she could run away from them, not because of anything sinister, but because she was terrified. From the sound of Raynor's orders, if they were going to prevent Anna's death by her own people, someone from sickbay would have to make damn sure they were following close enough behind to be considered an "escort."

Yes, she and Raynor would be talking.

Anna's eyes darted from Kio, to the male voice in the room. Her eyes on him bore holes into his skin as if she was sizing him up. She then looked back to Kio and saw her step closer. "I don't know you!" Anna said, "there for if you move one step more killing you will not be a big deal in my book!" Anna said coldly.

In the meantime, Dallas had gone to the replicator and ordered a glass of cool water, announcing her request loudly enough in the hopes O'Shea would believe she wasn't going to harm her. Karyn returned to face Brianna on the floor, being careful not to come too close to make her uncomfortable, and slowly lowered her hover chair to the ground so that they were eye to eye. She reached out to hand her the cup. "It's Karyn Dallas, Brianna. Would you like some water?"

Karyn knew they had to establish some rapport, and in the meantime, the water would also begin to ease the dehydration that was clearly evident in the woman's dry cracked lips. Dallas kept her eyes on O'Shea, somewhat wary of the metal strip she still brandished. She didn't intend to step on the medical staff's toes, but it was clear Brianna wasn't just going to lie down on the biobed and consent to be examined. Several people rushing at her at once with tricorders wasn't going to help, and as yet, Karyn didn't dare open her own. Dallas was still hoping that somewhere in O'Shea's mind she recognized Karyn, having served with her on the senior staff.

Raynor had moved closer but also toward an angle from which he could get an good view and a clear path. He wasn't so close that O'Shea would feel crowded, but he was so far that he couldn't be there within a split second.

Anna looked over at Karyn at that point. She did know her, long time ago but she knew her. "Karyn..." She said softly, as if another voice was talking now. Extending her shaking hand to the glass of water she smelt of it at first, then took a small drink and held it in her hand then. Looking at Karyn. Her eyes soft, for months she'd lived on adrenaline and fear, now as she began to slow down her body was getting more and more tried from all the injuries and blood loss. She then moved quickly to Karyn and gripped her hand with her free one, moving her face up toward Karyn's Anna's eyes locked with Karyn's, but nothing was said just the look of Anna's tear filled eyes was something Karyn would never forget. "Help me.."

Dallas swallowed the lump in her own throat and placed her free hand on top of the one Anna gripped, and she offered a gentle reassuring smile. "I will, Anna, but I need some help too. Will you let Dr. Kio help me help you?" Dallas indicated the Vulcan female beside her.

"Where was the mercy?" Pt 2

Cmdr Karyn Dallas, Chief Counselor/Nurse
Lt. Cmdr Brianna O'Shea
Ensign Kio, Medical Officer
Ensign Zev Raynor, Intelligence Officer
Provisional Ensign Vorducaat, Medical Doctor
With couple security officers

:: Sickbay, USS Galaxy ::

Looking at her and then to Kio, Karyn trusted her? Perhaps Anna would try to as well. "Yes.." She said softly in a hollow voice.

Karyn wasn't sure O'Shea could get onto the biobed without aggravating her injuries, but they couldn't afford to do anything that would scare her further. "Can you ease yourself on the biobed? Don't worry, Anna. We will give you privacy once you're settled on the bed.

Anna moved to the bio bed and looked at it. Her eyes then shot to the man there, she moved and crawled up on the bed, never making a sound from the pain she. Clutching the water glass still she looked cradling it as if it was a precious gift. Her fingers looked worn and blistered, which made it difficult for her to remove her clothing. While her back was to Zev he could see the beatings she had to have taken, and the whelps and dark bruises. She so dirty her skin looked brown, almost in a dead looking way. Her rib cage was very defined, one could tell she had lost a lot of weight. Looking at her hand which held the metal blade she then shook her head, not ready to give it up to Karyn just yet.

~Why is it the only person with a penis in this room is the bad guy in her book? As enormous as it is... its just not that scary...~ echoed Madden's voice with its usual tormenting flavor. ~She looks like she's been through a variation of rule 109. 'I will see to it that plucky young lads/lasses in strange clothes and with the accent of an outlander shall REGULARLY climb some monument in the main square of my capital and denounce me, claim to know the secret of my power, rally the masses to rebellion, etc. That way, the citizens will be jaded in case the real thing ever comes along.'~

Raynor remained silent not even thinking back to Madden at this point, stone faced as he simply took in the injury to O'Shea's back... and her figure... she would need more than water that was for sure. Of course you always had to start slow... he withdrew a candy bar he had in one of his pockets and made eye contact with her again. His head moved a little, his eyes began to become more clear which indicated a yes or no motion as he torn a small chunk out of the bar ate himself, offering O'Shea the rest.

He would need her in relatively good condition for later, and he didn't want to have to aggressive make sure she was who she appeared to be, and had no hidden triggers deep in her mind. On the order of Starfleet Command HQ which had pretty much given him authority in this matter.

His mind was still trying to figure out why they choose him to do this 'duty', rather than his superiors... but he guessed it had something to do with the mixture of knowledge he had in every field combined with his telepathic ability and that he was no emotionally connected with O'Shea. But that was just a guess.

He watched O'Shea to see if she even noticed his offer. Though if she accepted he would hand it off to Dallas. Mainly because he didn't want her to try and take any of the weaponry he carried on him.

Anna's face turned to look in Raynor's direction and saw him offering the chocolate bar. before anyone could say or do anything, Anna reached out and snatched it from his hands, the brief moment her hand touched his he could feel the rough cold touch she had to his. She had to sit the water glass down to get the candy bar, but she didn't like leaving it for someone else to get so she drank it down and then sat the water glass back down on the biobed beside her. Smelling of the candy she then took a bite of it and then began to eat it quickly.

Raynor took account of how fast she could move, and adjusted his position to compensate in case of the worse case scenario occurred.

Dallas hadn't made a move as yet to help O'Shea off with her clothes, not wanting to do anything she wasn't aware off ahead of time, but she was astonished by her malnourished and battered state. Outwardly, however, she displayed none of that.

Karyn was going to stop Raynor from offering the chocolate bar because giving Brianna solid food after so much time had passed would likely make her sick, but the candy was snatched out of the over zealous ensign's hand before she could say anything. "I know you're hungry, Anna, but try to eat slowly. I don't want you to get sick."

Dallas didn't want to leave O'Shea because it seemed she was the only one the engineer trusted at the moment. Fortunately for her, she could prepare the basin of clean water and antiseptic within O'Shea's line of sight. First, however, they had to be certain there were no internal injuries. "I need to scan you with a tricorder to make sure you're ok."

Looking at Karyn she then nodded, after a few seconds she then extended her hand with the metal toward Karyn, giving it to her. For Anna it was huge symbolic of trust she felt with Karyn. To give up her only weapon was something major and doubted anyone in the room realized it.

Kio, happy to stand back and allow Dallas to calm the woman down now felt she might be able to administer some treatment. The weapon was no longer a threat and O'Shea may not look entirely relaxed but the madness seemed to have faded a little from her hollow eyes.

"We need to get her straight onto a fluid drip, she is badly dehydrated." She said quietly to those standing closest. Taking her tricorder she ran a sweep slowly over O'Sheas body making no sudden moves and avoiding eye contact. The woman may have been gone for a long time but if she was who she seemed to be then this would be a familiar procedure and might do more to calm her down. So she addressed her directly as he patient: "You have suffered extensive trauma over a long period of time. I can see evidence of broken bones that have mended badly and a fair amount of damage to the internal organs that will need attention. Other than that you are showing signs of starvation and dehydration and this we will have to address gradually. Although the list is long I feel you will be able to make a full recovery...physically speaking."

Turning off the tricorder she brought up O'Shea's stats on the medical terminal and double checked her diagnosis.

"Please allow us to make you more comfortable and perhaps you can get some sleep?"

Karyn wasn't sure how O'Shea was going to react to that. She sensed the trust they'd built was still thin and sedating her, although medically advisable, would leave her vulnerable. Although Karyn was not going to get her talking about what had happened until she was more comfortable, Dallas could also appreciate the importance of allowing her to be as in control of her treatment as possible.

O'Shea was very weak, but part of Karyn felt uncomfortable with examining her if she was sedated, especially if she had been sexually assaulted. She could have the computer keep a log of everything they did, but Brianna had other options. Evidence could be collected. All of that required express consent. Their priority was her health, of course, but it might be important to Brianna if they caught these bastards. Dallas knew that better than anyone.

"Don't... tie me down... never tie me down." Anna whispered as she held her arm over her eyes. It was so bright in here.

Dallas offered quietly to Kio. "Doctor, I'd appreciate being allowed to help treat Brianna medically in any way I can. I'd recommend we limit the number of people who are treating her at one time so as not to overwhelm her. It may slow things down a bit, but I think having the staff introduce themselves and make sure she knows what they're doing to her at all times will help keep her calm. After we get fluids started, I can have the computer record video to preserve the scene as it was when she was brought in. Once we clean her up some, we can see what we're dealing with."

When it became obvious that O'Shea's condition was going to be fine and there was no immediate threat, Raynor made an internal sigh of relief... He just hoped that this was the real O'Shea that they were going through all this effort for...

Anna looked at Raynor and then back to Karyn and Kio. She okay with their presence but Raynor, she felt as if he was a threat. Turning her eyes back toward Kio she nodded and gripped Karyn's hand. Laying down on the bed she held the candy bar in her hand, tightly. Anna looked at the two women. Suddenly when a male nurse walked up to help, Anna jumped slightly, but made no real movement as he finished and walked away.

Just as quick as her emotional state was agitated and nervous, it changed, now she laid there crying.

Dallas whispered to Kio. "We should keep this to female personnel only."

"I concur." Kio replied.

A privacy forcefield was erected so that no one could see in or out. Dallas increased the temperature in the surrounding space so that Anna would not feel cold. She helped her ease off the rest of her tattered clothing, covering her with a sheet. While Kio attended to the most severe injuries, Karyn focused her attention on starting the IV to stem dehydration and cleaning her up so they could see all her cuts and bruises.

All the while, Karyn made sure the sensors documented the larger picture, while scanners took individual records of everything. When the time came, she would complete an additional evidence kit documenting the sexual assault. "You're going to be fine, Anna," Dallas soothed, as she watched the fluids flow into her. "You're safe here."

Suddenly Anna began to shake. First it was her hands, next her body began to shake as if she was having some seizer. In fact it was her body was going into shock from the infection her body was no longer able to fight.

Dallas had her tricorder, which was beeping loudly and steadily, out in a second. "I'm reading a major systemic infection. She's septic!" Dallas yelled, panic evident. Anna's body was so battered all of the open sores and scrapes had attracted their own bacteria, fighting its way into her system. With little nourishment and water, her body was not healthy enough to fight anything off. She was literally being torn down from the inside out.

Kio helped her steady Anna long enough to administer meds to stop the seizing and Dallas immediately added the strongest antibiotic she dared given Anna's compromised health.

Anna laid there and sighed. Managing to open her eyes briefly and look up at the lights over head. As her hand gripped Karyn's shirt her fingers relaxed and her eyes rolled back into her head and heart fluttered for a moment before coming to a stop.

”Time goes by...so slowly"

by J. Andrus Suder (apc)

******

Capitol City

******

There was nothing to do now but wait.

Andrus hated waiting.

It was one of the reasons he gained a hobby with every new operation, to keep him busy while he waited in between hidden messages and secret rendezvous.

It occurred to him, however, that he wasn’t going to need a ship to get off of this rock if he had yet another cup of coffee.

Andy steepled his fingers in an almost unconscious mimic of the Ambassador and frowned. As much as he wanted otherwise, there was nothing that he could do. His cargo was ready to be shipped, their transport as secure as Andy could make it, and his own exit was precariously arranged.

Of course, he expected that Joord was going to try to double cross him at the last moment, or maybe even try to kill him- another argument for dropping a habit that relied heavily on replicators- but Andy figured that it was best not to worry about it until opening night as he couldn’t really deal with the problem until both he and his defector were off of Romulus.

And then? Well, hopefully Joord was the kind of guy no one minded seeing jettisoned out of a garbage shoot.

Grax was busy making his own arrangements and Andrus knew that it was too late in the game to call his parents or friends for a chat. And, unthinkably, Uhlan Lelok had been somewhat forgiven for his indiscretions and had been allowed to advance from waiting on the Betazoid delegation to playing gopher for a Romulan major, leaving Andy without anyone to torment in his boredom.

No, it was just Andrus and his coffee and nothing to do but wait for Omar’s funeral.

Andy hated waiting.

"Danger Abounds, Part 2"

Lt. (JG) Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineering Officer

Ensign Zev Raynor
Terran Telepath Intelligence Officer

Ensign Eytan
Security Officer

Ensign T'Rei
Security Officer

Sgt. Major Thral
SFMC, Furies Detachment (Written by Michael)

Lt. (JG) 8-ball Hunter
Chief Science Officer

2nd Lieutenant Steven Jonas
SFMC, Furies Detachment

**** Holodeck 3, Deck 11 ****

The duo made their way towards the grass. Slowly. Steven's legs were knackered from all the running that he had just done. Sprinting would have been a better definition he reasoned. You don't jog when a huge Lion is chasing you. And after her time in the quicksand, he assumed 8-Ball's were also sore.

The remains of the small hut lay several feet to the right as they walked past, the last of the fire burning pitifully on a few remaining splinters of wood, the rest being a large charred mess. What was left of the bar, a small stump of a log of wood could barely be seen amongst the remains. "You don't suppose a bottle of Romulan Ale survived?" He asked half jokingly.

"With our luck? Our luck which, may I remind you, includes burning houses and quicksand and spontaneously appearing man-eating lions?" 8-ball pretended to think about it. "I kind of doubt it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Steven grinned.

They reached the grass, a patch big enough for the two of them to sit, but not affording much more than that. Steven helped 8-Ball to sit before taking a seat next to her. He looked over at her. She was sitting there, legs folded, looking down at the grass, her left hand playing with the grass while her right was brushing sand from her pants. She looked so beautiful sitting there. His heart had been beating fast when he was being chased by that Lion, and faster still as he pulled her from the quicksand, but just sitting here in the stillness of what looked like late afternoon, his heart was beating faster than all day. And he was so confused by it all.

~What the hell is wrong with me? First I love her, then I don't, then I love her again, and then I don't. And now... Man I'm so confused. Do I or don't I? What do I do now? Do I tell her that I think the stuff I said before was a mistake? Or leave it be. Why can't love be simple, like it was with 'Bella. That had been simple. I loved her and she loved me and everything else had was left on the side of the road. Oh god, I'm so fucked up.~

8-ball let her head slip down so that her forehead rested on her knees. She knew she needed to be thinking about some form of game plan---like what was causing all this psychotic weirdness and, more importantly, how to escape from it. Unfortunately, she was having trouble focusing on anything other than the fact that her legs were still screaming in agony after trying to tread fucking quicksand. Assuming she got out of this, she was never going to the holodeck again. At least, not to meet a one-night stand who wanted to talk about "stuff".

Steven sighed at the thoughts that were running through his head. He didn't know what to do. At least he could see that she was okay after her ordeal in the quicksand. "Hey, are you alright?"

8-ball glared out of him at the corner of her eye. She knew that it wasn't fair to blame him for what was happening, but hell with it, she didn't feel like being fair. "Do I look all right?" she snapped. "I just nearly got sucked into a nice little vortex of quicksand. It wasn't exactly a positive fucking experience."

Steven retreated from 8-Ball's stinging response. "I'm sorry. I was just checking if you were okay."

8-ball sighed, partly from regret, mostly from irritation. ~Okay, it's not cool to snap at the guy who just saved your life. Even if he is the reason you're here in the first place. Remember, you just brought faith back in the guy's life. Try to act the part.~

"I'm sorry," she apologized, if a little grudgingly. "I'm just... cranky. I get very irritable when I get scared. Or, you know, when I breathe. Anyway. I didn't mean to take it out on you." She turned her head to side so that she could look a him better. "Thanks for the gallant rescue, though. I'm not really brave enough to play a decent damsel in distress, but you did a nice job as hero."

"My pleasure." The marine responded.

8-ball smiled briefly at Steven and then watched him as his face settled into a frown, obviously thinking about whatever the hell was happening. She waited for him to reason it out---that way, she didn't have to do any of the serious pondering and got more time to brush off all the sand off her uniform.

Twice the strange woman had appeared and twice events that she had created, it seemed, had tried to kill them. And it didn't take a scientist to realize that the holodeck safeties were offline, though why that was the case eluded Steven. Someone was trying to kill them. And Jonas had absolutely no idea why.

"Any idea who that woman is?" He asked.

8-ball looked at him as though he was slow. "It's O'Shea," she said. "Brianna O'Shea, Ex Chief Engineer, Big Time Traitor and Super Super Bad Guy?"

"Oh...So that's her? I thought she was older. It doesn't explain why she is trying to kill us. Hell, I didn't even know who she was."

8-ball thought about that. Steven had a decent point. "I sort of knew her," 8-ball said. "I mean, Senior Staff. We were in meetings occasionally, but I don't think we ever talked outside of that. So unless I slept with her boyfriend or husband or something, I really don't know why she'd want to kill me."

8-ball chewed on that for a minute, trying to remember exactly what she'd said when she appeared the first time. 8-ball hadn't really been paying that close of attention---her concern was more about the rising flames and billowing smoke, rather than the smug taunts of a holographic villain. Still, she had said a name, a name that wasn't 8-ball's or Steven's. 8-ball couldn't remember what it had been.

"Hey," 8-ball said. "You said this wasn't your program, right? You just borrowed it?"

"Yeah, I found it in the databank and thought it sounded alright. I guess I was wrong." He responded.

"Well," 8-ball said, "O'Shea couldn't have known we were going to stroll in here. She must have been trying to kill whoever's program this is. Do you remember whose it was?"

Steven looked away from the cloud formation that looked, ever so slightly, like a bunny rabbit and focused on 8-Ball. "Um, I think it was the Captain's."

"The current captain?"

"Eh, no.. Not Henderson. Someone else, name starting with..." He thought about it for a moment. "M, I think it started with 'M'. M'Botha or MacKenzie or something like that."

"M'Kantu," 8-ball said immediately. It seemed strange to her that Steven didn't know who M'Kantu was. . .of course, she'd be on the ship much longer than he had. Still, when 8-ball thought of the captain of the ship, her immediate thought was of M'Kantu---it always took her a second to remember Henderson was in charge now. In a weird way, 8-ball sort of missed M'Kantu. Sure, he was a little twisted and evil when it came to appropriate punishments, but she had sort of liked the old man. She wanted him back.

This wasn't exactly a high concern right now, though, what with the holodeck going death trap and all. 8-ball pulled herself back to the present and focused on what Steven was saying.

"Yeah, that sounds right. Hey, didn't the O'Shea woman mention the name 'Daren' when she first appeared?"

"Yeah," 8-ball said. "That was it. Daren M'Kantu, old Captain of the Galaxy. O'Shea couldn't have known he was going to get booted off because of that tyrannical bitch Proctor. . .or at least, I'm assuming she's the reason. She usually is, for all things bad. Anyway, that's who O'Shea must have been setting this up for." She thought about that. "Not great planning, on her part."

"Do you think we can reason with her? If she appears again that is." Jonas asked.

"Do I think we can reason with the traitorous, sabotaging, holographic chick? My thought would be no. Still, I suppose it's worth a shot, assuming there's a Plan B on how to get us out of here." 8-ball looked at him. "There's some form of Plan B... right?"

Jonas shrugged his shoulders. "Not yet, but I'm working on it." He paused, thinking about the possibility of being rescued from this hell hole of a beach. "Hell, I'm sure someone is out there trying to get in to get us out right now."

"I am curious about something." Jonas looked over towards 8-ball. "You said you thought that she was targeting the Captain. She's smart enough to lock us in here, produce burning buildings, Lions and quicksand. She blocked access to the computer and the Communications system, and yet she doesn't use the sensors to detect that he isn't infact here with us. Kinda odd don't you think?"

8-ball shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she just assumed he'd be here. Or maybe she didn't really care all that much to check because she's evil and nefarious and psychotic. I really have no idea how O'Shea's head works."

8-ball sighed, and looked back towards the sand. It looked ominious. Assuming that she lived to survive the Holodeck, 8-ball decided that she'd definitely have to make sure that no phobia of sand became of this whole incident. Otherwise, she'd never be able to go to Risa again and she'd have to find a whole, new happy place. This was, of course, slightly less important than not burning to death or being eaten alive, but it was still a small worry.

"If there are people coming," 8-ball said, "I hope they get here soon."

"Yeah, I hope so too."

Nobody appeared right away, so 8-ball turned to Steven and asked, "So, how did you escape from the evil lion?"

Jonas smiled. "Now that's a long story." He looked off into the distance. The rolling hills stretched as far as the eye could see, the covering of tall grass swaying in the breeze. Over one of the hills a fair distance away a dark shape appeared, followed shortly by more. "And now isn't the time for it. We have company, though it is too far away to tell if they are human or not."

8-ball squinted her eyes. After a moment, "Human," she said. "And Starfleet. Hey, maybe it's the rescue squad."

"With this O'Shea doing what she has, I doubt it, but we can hope." Steven paused, eyeing up the approaching people. "Should we go and meet them?"

"Do we have much of a choice?" 8-ball asked, and they went.

**** Outside Holodeck 3, Deck 11 ****

It took him a second or two for Eytan to realize that nobody was answering him, only staring at him. He blinked and looked down at himself, suddenly remembering his state of near-undress, and he quickly moved his towel from his shoulders to his waist, tying it around himself. "What?"

"Maybe you should some pants on if you wish to continue fighting evil today..." Raynor joked, not really caring one way or another.

Nara would had laughed if there wasn't a fire inside. She'll laugh later. For now she shook her head and nodded toward the holodeck, "Emergency I would guess." She walked over to the panel and tried the first thing come to mind. Having not much clearance, she tried a simple override to open the door.

While the engineer worked on that, Eytan shot a glare over at the black-collared joker. "Sorry, but I figured the families of whoever's stuck in there wouldn't be very happy with me if I let them die because I was too embarrassed to walk outside without a uniform on." He knew the man wasn't being serious, but this really wasn't the time for jokes. He stepped to the side out of everyone else's way, his eyes scanning the doorway as he tried to think of an idea.

After a few minutes passed, the armory tech arrived with the demolitions equipment that Thral had requested as well as a couple phaser rifles he hadn't asked for. Little extra firepower never hurt.

"OK kids, tell me what we're dealing with and where you want the hole and I'll make it. And don't worry, I can take em apart as well as putting them together," Thral said matter of factly.

T'Rei casually came around the corner. She was ordered to assist in any way possible, however, upon viewing the doors of the Holodeck, she had to wonder exactly in what capacity she could help. Turning to her left, she spotted another ensign of the same department as she. Showing no reaction to his attire, she nodded in acknowledgement of his presence, and then turned back to the door.

"Is there a way we can open the door without blowing it out the side of the ship?" She stated with an eyebrow raised. At times, the ensign had to wonder what drove people that liked playing with things that exploded.

"Nara that won't work the door is jammed pyschically by some unidentified object that was beamed into the wall and theres a forcefield..." Raynor explained. Noting that Nara was in fact now the commanding officer of this operation and so he started acting like that.

Turning to Nara, he started stating options, "Sir, we have four options as I see it, the quickest way would be to try a bomb, though it is possible that doing that might kill whoever's inside unless we get a clear picture of who in there, simply because we can be sure of how much force to use. This is sabotage, and O'Shea could of reinforced the door with holograms," Raynor said thinking a looney toons episode he saw once.

"The safe way would be to phaser through once we get the forcefield down... though that could take a while and if she has reinforced with holograms, the least damaging way would be to engineer or hack up some miracle to get our people out... or last, we cut the power," Raynor finished stating all options availiable to them.

Then turning to the Marine who seemed a wee bit bomb happy, "And were not blowing anything up without orders... got it?"

T'Rei watched the exchange curiously. She pondered to herself about the situation. It would make the most sense to cut the power and gain entry that way. But, what if the supposed force field was powered by another source located somewhere on the ship? They could locate it, but it would be next to impossible. The ensign felt helpless as she stood by.

"It would be tricky, but I could blow the door without too much of the force pushing in. Same trick we used on Tallus VII. Forcefields though I can't do much with, though I might be able to rig something up. And Ensign, leave the exploding stuff to the expert," Thral said with his usual disregard to the pip on the intellgence officer's collar.

"Isn't there any way we could shut the program down from out here?" Eytan inquired, casting a dubious look at the Marine. He wouldn't be surprised if all he succeeded in doing was blowing himself up if he tried blasting through. "I assume someone here has notified the bridge of this situation--couldn't they just cut the power to Holodeck three?" He glanced over at T'Rei. "You might want to let Corgan know what's going on here..."

She shot an icy glance over at Eytan. "Corgan is aware of the situation at hand." T'Rei stated firmly. The ensign continued. "I am positive that those in command are paying adequate attention to this situation. I was sent to assist."

Eytan raised a bemused eyebrow at T'Rei's frigid demeanor. "Alright, then. Just making sure that everyone who needs to know about this does."

Nara had already decided cutting off power was the simplest, least dangerous option, but getting a word in edge-wise was near impossible. Finally she just walked back over to the console and started removing a panel, "Cutting power to the holodeck if anyone cares to know."

"Mam, are you sure that's wise without checking things out? I mean, don't you think she would have thought of that?"

Nara rolled her eyes as she took out a tricorder and scanned it. "Looks fine." She felt more in control now. The momentary surprise of finding she was in charge was taken over by her command mode she used in the Sakarian Civil War. She looked at the wires, concentrating. She shook her head, "Best I can do from here is get that forcefield down." So she did. She stood and looked at the others, "Who wants to beam in?"

Raynor simply raised his hand in response with a look which seemed to say 'Lets get this over with...'

Eytan glanced down at himself, seriously wishing now that he'd just taken the extra time to run back into the pool's locker rooms and change. What sort of rescue could he pull off in a towel? He looked back up at Nara and shrugged. "I wouldn't be of much use here if I didn't go, too," he said before double-checking the settings on his phaser..

Nara nodded and went to the console, tapping into the transporter controls. She looked over again and seeing they were ready, beamed them in. She got to work the transporters even less than she got to work on the bridge. It was kind of disconcerting knowing you were in control of someone's molecules and one mistake and they would be scattered. Thank goodness she was too much in crisis mode not to consider this now.

She looked at Thral and nodded at the door? "We might need that hole." Then she got back to the panel to figure out how to be a hero or something.

"Your wish is my command boss", Thral said as he checked a few more scans and schematics. As was his custom, he started thinking out loud "Ok we need to do this while limiting collateral damage. Even without someone screwing with the power systems there's enough plasma running through that wall to breach the hull. Rope charges, that's what we need. Five segments should do it."

Within a moment, the proper charges had been fabricated and Thral began placing them around the edge of the door. The idea was to cut through the duranium and basically make something akin to a 'doggie door'. Once the charges were placed he looked to Nara and said "You might want to back up".

Nara did as she was asked. Of course any smart person would move when there would be a boom large enough to blow through a door on a spaceship.

After Thral backed up to a safe place, he triggered the charges and with surprisingly little noise, a humanoid size door was cut in the holodeck door. After pulling away the debris, Thral grabbed a rifle with the armory private right behind him.

"I'm going in"

"Every Moment of Every Day"

By
Commander Karyn Dallas, RN
Chief Counselor/Second Officer

Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer

"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?"

It hit him like a sudden tidal wave, tumbling him over the abyss. It all came back to him with a sudden clarity, to the point of inducing a sharp, writing pain through his cranium. His vision reacted the opposite of the memory block falling; a red haze settled down over it as the images beat at him internally as if he were trapped in a room full of bats. He shook his head from side to side, eyes squeezed shut to press away to onslaught.

"Because you wouldn't let me finish what I started!" He finally let it break through, a nervous giggle escaping his lips. The memory of her taking the phaser away from him, coddling him, trying to get into his head and twist his loyalties. "You wouldn't kill me when I begged you to. I had to *BEG* you to end it all, and you wouldn't do it! You let me live in my own humiliation for every second of every minute of every day of my life for the last two years. You used that weakness, and hang it over me every second you can. You say I disgust you? I *loathe* you. You truly are a pathetic human being. Just because you can live with your own disability doesn't mean you get to disregard other cultures societal values and make us be and live as you do. You don't have the RIGHT nor do you RESPECT them. You think you're some self-appointed goddess of all there is in the universe, and it sickens me. You have a bigger ego than you say I do, and it's truly a tragedy that you don't see it. I only have issues because you think you are perfectly rational in all the errors you have made, from your almost complete destruction of everything the Federation stands for at lanjep, to your self-appointed position as moral issuer in the guise of counselor. You're a fake, and you don't belong on this ship or anywhere in Starfleet! Your complete disregard for other beings moral and ethical standings only proves it.

"*You* made me into what I am today, Counselor. Only problem is that you won't admit it. You like this power you have over people too much, and now you want to evoke that self-righteousness over me right here, this minute. I reject your notions." It took every last ounce of willpower to keep himself seated in a non-threatening manner, because right now, at this very moment, he wanted to strangle her.

She supposed she had to be grateful for his tirade. It was the most he had said to her since that night. Her objective self knew he was threatened by her, and her subjective self wanted to shut down. They were traveling in circles, her objective self reasoned, and her anger, as justified as it was, was not helping her.

"You can reject me all you want, Legate, but here we are. You need me. The fact of the matter is, I couldn't kill you. Maybe it's you who should respect that about who I am. That night, before Victor attacked me and I found you with... with that android who released pheromones like poison, I knew you were not to blame for what she had done. I didn't want to see you die. Maybe that was arrogant of me, but you've had plenty of opportunities to do it yourself since then, so I refuse to be your excuse anymore."

He jutted his chin out, pushing the bitten part of his tongue against the front teeth to exaggerate the physical pain that mirrored his own psychological one. Or perhaps to dull it.

"I don't want your pity. All I see is you trying to validate your own misgivings by transferring it on what you hope is guilt for me." He rubbed at his temples, averting his eyes momentarily. The images of the woman with red hair kept interchanging with Dallas' own. "Your hope to paint others with your weaknesses to make yourself feel better about your own is an abomination."

Karyn knew Curran was struggling with something, memories perhaps. If it were anyone else, she might have asked after his well-being, but he recovered quickly enough to hurl insults again. She smiled sweetly. "My dear, I think you're projecting."

"Stop your counseling games. I'm not apologizing for your genetics or insecurities, Counselor, so don't even try to make me out to be the criminal here. You need *me*, whether you like it or not. Your ego is so self-evident, if I weren't here, you'd have no clue how to take your next steps in the most rational and logical sense. I won't be your minion, bowing to your omnipotence and fervor like your patients who come running for their next dose of manipulation. Look in the mirror, Counselor. I'm your self-conscience. I like it even less than you do, but the fact remains that it is the truth."

Karyn smirked. "And yet, I've managed to make it this far in Starfleet without you, and I have gone this long without speaking to you. And," she continued with conviction, "the fact remains you need me or one of my staff to evaluate you or you wouldn't be here now. You can act like you're doing me a favor all you want, Legate, but it's you who is going to have to compromise and confront what you've been through if you want to be cleared again."

Dallas softened. "I'm being honest with you, Kylar. Getting angry at me and hurling insults and contempt at me or any counselor is not going to get you what you seek. Maybe the answer is for you to see my assistant chief, Brian Elessidil, if you can't talk to me. We're intertwined you and I, and I used to think I could help you, but all I seem to do is bring you pain."

Kylar grinned, curling his already pale lips inward. It was completely un-natural, like a monster who came out of your closet at night, or perhaps a Wendigo. His eyes beamed out cold fire, the irises natural shade of azure blue even brighter than before.

"And I've managed to make it just far in the Federation and continue to do so without you, Counselor. Now, all I came here for was your simple recommendation to your superiors at Starfleet to grant me my activation to on-site representative of the Federation, but again, your ego has twisted that into a play on your ego that I somehow need you more than ever." His grin fell away, the humor in it never having shown by the apparent shift of facial muscles to a pursed look again. The sheer ire behind his eyes remained.

"And here you are making yet another error in judgment. It's lanjep all over again, and you refuse to see it as your own fault. Just like you did back then. I can see we're going nowhere here. Do whatever you want, Counselor. But if something happens here at ch'Rihan that I was unable to disarm because you wouldn't allow me access to my resources, then be sure you take a good long look in the mirror and tell me if you still think it isn't your fault why I treat you the way I do." Picking up his PADD from the table with the sculpture, he rose from the sofa one last time.

"One last time I will ask you. Will you make the recommendation to your supervisors at Starfleet Command to reactivate my status as Federation Representative?"

Her answer was simple and immediate. "No, I *cannot.*" He was under the mistaken impression she was witholding approval out of spite, when in fact, she was doing her duty, no matter how much he infuriated her.

"And what would it take for you to relinquish the one piece of leverage you have over me, Counselor? Do I need to give up my soul? I'm already in an inner circle of hell; it probably wouldn't take much more convincing."

"As I said, you need to be able to discuss what happened to you with regard to Mudd's androids. I know how much you are loathe to discuss it, but it is the one experience that you must face if you're ever to accept who you are now. Some things even you cannot do alone."

"That's your opinion, Counselor. Who are you to know if I haven't already discussed it with someone? One of my *own* kind, perhaps?" He abruptly drew a sharp intake of breath, and lifted the hand with the PADD in it, drifting it up and down at Dallas.

"Oh, but Starfleet's counselors are the epitome of all that is holy... I had forgotten that. I must apologize. My incomplete human genetics must be making me inferior to your absolute perfection in knowing what is right and proper for me."

Karyn sighed. "For someone who hates to be judged by someone else's cultural standards, you have certainly denigrated my heritage often enough. And if you've discussed it with someone else and worked through it, you should have no problem speaking with a counselor to be cleared. At the risk of being insulted once more, I will say again that what happened to you was not your fault and that I do not think less of you for it."

Kylar did what could only be characterized as a 'harumph'. Then so be it, so long as it's anyone but you. You're compromised." As he turned his back to her, a shapr pain arched through his temples that connected behind his eyes, but he wouldn't allow the woman to see him in a moment of weakness.

"We're done here. Update my calendar with your appointment. Goodbye Counselor."

Karyn watched him go, certain they would never be done.

"Meeting a Marvel: Part 5"

Ens Eve, Tech Op, Intelligence

Lt.(jg) Nara Roswell, Engineering

*****Nara's Quarters*****

Nara looked at her and concern etched on her face, "To be honest, I don't think anyone, not even yourself know what you--or what's in you--is capable of."

Eve quirked her head to one side. "You have a good point there, Nara."

Nara smiled at her, "So now that I pretty well know you, what would you like to know about me?"

"Hmmmm .... What do people normally ask?"

Nara shrugged, "I'll just tell you what I can think of. I'm an engineer. I was born on Sakaria, fought the civil war a few years back. That's the basics. You already know I'm a curious geek."

Eve giggled at that last comment. "Sakaria, where is that?"

"On the edge of Federation Space."

"What do you like to do when you're not on duty," was asked next.

"Peruse the Holodeck, swim with the dolphin crew-members, see Saul, take care of Saia and go to the gym. What do you do?"

"Not much, actually. Wander around for a bit, then go to sleep, mostly."

Nara looked at Eve a bit amused and a bit with pity, "That doesn't sound like much fun."

"I haven't really explored the various activities available to me," Eve said, starting to explain. "Technically, I've only been awake for about 10 years, so I haven't had that much time to develop certain things."

Nara perked up an eyebrow, "Saia's only 10." She narrowed her eyes a bit regarding Eve, having found an explanation for the woman's naiavte. "Well, I can suggest some activities. Develop things like what? Like I said, you seem finely tuned. You could learn any sport or recreation quickly. You don't seem to have much problem with social interaction, though a bit niave."

Eve perked a brow. "I know what the encylopedic reference says, but what does that REALLY mean?"

Nara smiled, "For one thing, you don't know me very well, but you came to my quarters and I've scanned you in two different ways. Not that it matters. There are enough safeguards even if you do innocently put yourself in danger." She looked serious, "I was simply intriqued. Other people may have different motives."

"I think I get the idea, but I might need a little more help every now and again." Eve did indeed have the idea, as far as that one type of scenario was concerned, though intuitive observations would probably help widen her range of warrieness.

Nara nodded, "Did they train you on how to fight?"

Eve nodded. "Basic combat techniques in the Academy, some of the more advanced stuff in Intell school, that's about it."

"Well, if we're ever in the same area, I'll watch your back." Nara winked.

"Thanks," she replied with a wink of her own - though truth be told that was another of those mannerisms Eve never truly comprehended.

Nara smiled, "When do you have to be on duty?"

She consulted her internal chronometer. "It'll still be some hours, why?"

Nara smiled mischeviously, "I'm gonna show you a meaning of fun that encyclopedia doesn't have. Not sure how yet, but the Holodeck is full of infinate possibilities and I think there's one open." She stood eagerly.

"When things came to a head"

1st Lt. Jebidiah Baile
2nd Lt. Branwen London

Branwen was one of the first to hear that Baile was back. The announcement filled her with a lot of different feelings. Trepidation that he would not be satisfied with how she had run things in his absence, relief that her job would be easier from now on, and also a little bit off sadness of having to let go of being the boss.

Five minutes after learning that he was back, she heard that her boss had been placed in the brig. No explanation, just that message.

"This is ridiculous." Branwen muttered. It luckily she didn't have any patients at the moment, and she made for the brig straightaway.

"I am here to see Lieutenant Baile." She told the guard on duty. "And don't even try to tell me no." She growled at him marine style.

"Second cell on the right ma'am." He told her.

He had told the guard to turn the lights off in his cell. They knew he was unarmed and quite frankly they didn't know how to treat the Marine CO. The Marines themselves had beamed him directly to the brig where he had let them disarm him and place him behind the forcefield.

Now he just sat on the bunk, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Somehow being stuck in the brig seemed like a good thing at the moment. Less people to talk to. Security would come down here eventually. He was in no hurry.

Someone stopped outside the forcefield and took a deep breath before talking to him. "Lieutenant London.. " he said without looking up.

"Sir." She said. Branwen could feel the nerves in her belly, but she was not going to abandon him now. "What happened, how can they put you in here. What can I do to help?" The words rolled out in her nervousness.

"Lieutenant.." Baile said to her when she finished talking.

"Sir." She squeaked back.

"You're babbling."

"Sorry Sir." After that she stayed quiet, and waited for him to say anything more.

"What do you want, Lieutenant?" the man inside the dark cell asked.

Branwen took another deep breath. "I am here to listen and to help, Sir."

Baile cocked an eyebrow at her. He didn't remember her looking so.. haunted and stressed out. "Help me with what, Lieutenant?"

"Whatever happened to you that made you end up in here, Sir." She said softly.

"What happened was I left without permission.. " He sagged down on the bunk until he was laying down on it and rested his head on his arms. The room was vivid with colors despite the fact the light was turned off. "Now its up to the brass to decide what to do with me.."

"Where did you go, Sir. Or is it something you cannot talk about, was it successful?" She relaxed a little bit.

"I went to prison.." he laughed a short and ironic laughter and held up his arm in air. Very faintly the words 'Property of Warden Élysée' could be seen. It had been burnt into his skin, leaving ugly scars in its wake.

"Jesus Baile." Branwen lowered the forcefield and moved inside. "Have you seen a doctor yet?" In her concern her fear was forgotten.

"It has healed. I'm going to get it removed later." he responded with a shrug and sat up. He didn't think his new.. abilities.. involved regenerating the skin. At least he hoped it didn't. If it did then all of his tattoos would be screwed and THAT would seriously mess with his day.

She sat down next to him on the bed. "What happened?" She asked again softly, thinking of her own experiences while he was away.

What happened? ~I flew to a fucking penal colony to find out if Newbie had revealed the old man's code or not. I got tortured by a man so fat it's hard to describe. I then ran for nearly three days straight with about three hours of sleep in total only to be forced to drag Newbie and some goddamn kid with me back to the damn prison where I tortured and stabbed the man who's name is crispy on my arm. Then I killed him. After that I counted on the greed of mercs to get me out of there and now I'm here~ he thought to himself.

Of course that's not what he said out loud. "Nothing, Lieutenant, and at the moment you are endangering yourself. I could be a traitor for all you know and you just volunteered to be hostage."

"Nonsense, you live for the corps." She said. "And Marines stick together. Tell me what I can do to help."

Baile's face darkened in the already poorly lit cell. "Nonsense?" he asked darkly. "O'Shea was replaced with a clone and no one noticed until it was too late... I could be one of those clones for all you know." He stood up in his full height. Physically he had changed. He was more bulky, but yet it was easy to see the agility with which he moved. He was a full fledged killing machine on two legs.

She shrunk back from him, hugging the wall and swallowing hard. Then she tried to get her courage back. "You would have been scanned when you were brought aboard. Because we know about the clone problem now. The Anna clone she... she betrayed some people on board. Why must you be so horrible."

"Lieutenant. You need to get your head out of your ass and grow some backbone.. This ain't the Reserves your serving in.. this is the Starfleet Marines. We're as tough as it gets. Act like one."

"Stop it!" She told him, finally anger shone through. "You were the one who left without saying a word, leaving your job for me, not knowing when to expect you back, if ever. But I have kept things running. And you have no idea what happened here. Stop judging me! I am not like you, I don't ever want to be like you, but I have a backbone." She whispered at him, head held high but tears in her eyes.

The bald marine looked at Bran for a few seconds. Then a grin spread across his face as he leaned his head against the wall. "I'm not judging you, Sparky.. I don't need to.. you're doing that all on your own.. You're the one that came down here, you're the one that keeps reminding me how good and brave you really are deep down. You're the one that twists yourself inside out to prove yourself.. Stop making excuses for yourself.. If the job is too tough just say so instead of sticking your head in the sand and getting people killed." He stopped talking, still looking at the colors in the room, visible only to him.

"Or don't.." he shrugged. "I really don't care which Lieutenant. I can only make soldiers out of people who knows what they want."

"It's never good enough for you, is it." She said bitter. "I know damn well what I want, and I am working very hard to get there. Pardon your rank, Sir, but screw you. I will not let you get me down. And I am going to help you get out of here if you like it or not. Because our Marines need you. And you should be there for them. And don't ever say that I get people killed." She was really angry now.

It was so easy to push her buttons it wasn't even fun. "You... get... people... killed..." he repeated. "Dolly.. you got a lot of growing up to do. If the truth sets of the sprinklers then you're in for a very long walk.. You want to be a shrink and a marine at the same time. Fine. You're a marine. But I'll be damned if you understand what it means to be a shit-eating dirthugging no-bars hold marine... How many people have you killed, Lieutenant?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" She asked.

"It's a simple question, Lieutenant. Just answer it."

Branwen hesitated. "I'm not sure, I have been in firefights. I don't think so."

"So you think you know what it's like to be a marine, a glorified killer, without having killed anyone?" Baile replied calmly, resting his head against the wall with his eyes closed. "How can you say you can help the marines when you don't even know that? Books are no good, Lieutenant. Books won't tell you what its like. Bokos will tell you how others percieve it, but you won't understand it until you actually kill someone up close, with a knife or your hands."

"I know it won't help if I tell you I don't agree with you." She said.

"You know why humans make for the best marines?"

"Because according to you they make the best killers. You know what, Lieutenant, it would be so much more helpful if you would teach me to be a good marine, instead of putting down everything I do, and only criticising me."

"Glad to see you've been paying attention, Dorothy.. " he ignored the last part of her retort for the time being. "Humans are amazing killers, Lieutenant.. Klingons are good warriors, but they got that whole honor before death thing going... but humans.. Humans, Sunshine.. they grabbed as much of the killergenes when the rest was busy trying to be civilized creature. That's what you have inside.. ready to pop its ugly head out when the tough gets tough enough.. Think you can handle it? When the rage inside is so strong it blocks out everything but the kill? When your head is pounding so hard you think your skull is going to crack and all you can think of is how much you want the other guy dead.. Think you can survive the aftermath? The knowledge of what you did and the breaking of the illusion of selfcontrol?" he whispered, slowly closing his hand until the knuckles cracked loudly.

"Then again... you're civilized.. you're above such things.. only monsters like me falls for that temptation.. " Baile replied with a chuckle, amused by a joke of long times past. "I can teach you how to be a good marine, I can show you how to be an outstanding marine.. but its like a fine wine.. it has to reach a certain.. point.. before its ready."

She looked at him. "You think I don't have that rage inside me, that killer instinct? You really think that, dream on. But instead of you I fight it. Because I don't want to end up cold and bitter."

"You fight it.. and that's why you'll never be more than a second rate wannabe with a chip on her shoulder. " Baile replied with a shrug. "A good soldier is not about how well you shoot or how far you can march.. it's an attitude.. An attitude you will never understand, Lieutenant, because for you that attitude is something that is broken, something that needs fixing... Go back to shrinking.. you'll be a hell of a lot better at it than being a soldier."

She came nose to nose with him. "You can only see your way, you dinosaur. But you will not pester me away, I will not give in because I am stronger then you think. I will be a good marine despite you."

Baile opened a pair of silvery alien eyes. The eyes of a merciless predator. A soulless killer. The King of Killers. He met her gaze evenly, seeing the faint persperation on her skin, hearing her heart beat, smelling her angers and fears. He felt her breath on his skin. He had been that close to enemies just before ending their lives. "Stop saying it... Start showing it.."

"Give...me...a... chance." She stared back.

He closed his eyes again, lowering his head to get some rest. The last week had drained him of more strength than he could ever imagined having. "Lieutenant... you're still talking.. I'd look into that if I were you.."

"Bastard." She hissed but saw he was tired. "I will try to get you out of here whatever." She promised. "And you need to see a doctor."

"Lieutenant.. Stay out of this.. it's an order. Guard!" he barked. "Escort the Lieutenant out of here."

"Afraid of seeing a doctor, Baile?" She taunted him. "Scared of leaving the brig?"

"Yeah, that's it, Barbie.. I'm scared shitless.. But it's still an order and you're still talking."

"I will get you that doctor and release, butcher.' She said before turning and walking to the door.

He moved. Fluidly. A poetry in motion. His hand grabbed her around the arm and pulled her back into the cell. The strength of his grip matched the fittest of Vulcans and Klingons. The darkness in Baile flowed freely. The Killer surfaced in all its terrible glory. Baile reborn into something even Hell wouldn't let in. He practically lifted her off the ground. "Lieutenant.. this goes way beyond you and the marines.. take this advice since you can't follow orders.. Stay out of this." If he pressed any harder then it was likely he would break her arm. No human possessed such a strength.

Fear overtook her looking at the terrible look on his face and the strength in that grip. She had no idea a human could be so strong. So she struggled against him, tried to hit him so he would let go of her, but hanging in the air she didn't have much of a chance against the unleashed demon.

"A good marine knows when to back down.. do we have an understanding?" he asked her calmly, barely feeling the blows, including one that hit him on the cheek. He pressed a little more to show her he was serious.

She felt something in her arm, and cried out in fear and pain.

He lowered her and escorted her out of the cell. The guard was already pulling his phaser from the holster on his hip. "Go see to that arm and stay out of this, Lieutenant." He turned around before the guard could fully draw the phaser and sat down on the bunk again, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Smooth.." Maya's voice sighed heavily. "Real smooth, Killer."

"Go away.. I'm resting." he said to the empty air, unknowingly at the same time the guard looked inside to see where he had gone.

Corgan definately needed to know what had happened. "Are you alright, Ma'am?" he asked Branwen, still trying to piece together what had just happened.

"Fine." She said through clenched teeth, although she knew the arm was not ok. "Fine." With that she staggered out of sickbay.

"Hunting Ghosts" Part 1

Commander James Lionel Corgan
Chief of Security

Lieutenant Tarin Iniara
Chief of Operations

---------------
Main Operations
Deck 9
---------------

After finishing up her impromptu meeting with Legate Curran, Lieutenant Tarin had quickly made her way back to Main Ops. There were far more important people than the Liaison Officer who needed to be told about their uninvited guests-- and soon.

But what would be the best way to inform Commander Corgan, she asked herself. If the Jem'Hadar were here for some purpose other than eliminating Goran'Agar, it was possible they had already infiltrated other areas of the ship. Areas which he could be passing through even now. There was no way to quickly confirm an area was secure, not when the Jem'Hadar shrouding technology made them invisible to the internal sensors as well as the naked eye. That made the comm channels or an in-person visit less than desirable.

That left her with few options. Iniara grumbled, exiting the turbolift as fast as her only slightly defective legs would carry her. She'd just have to send him a text message, and hope that a shrouded warrior wasn't looking over his shoulder when he read it.

Crossing the threshold into Ops she glanced around the room, the realization that there could already be Jem'Hadar milling about quickly dawning on her. Well, she would just have to hope that they found a department full of PADD-pushers and maintenance techs to be rather dull, and had chosen another area to haunt instead.

Iniara continued to the back and into her office, activating her desktop console before she even had a chance to fully slide into her chair. Carelessly propping her cane against the wall she spun the screen towards her, then began to type out a quick message.

TO: Corgan, James
FROM: Tarin, Iniara PRIORITY: URGENT

Sir:

Please forgive the brief nature of this message. I have stumbled upon a possible security risk relating to our guests. Please meet me in my office at your earliest convenience so that I may elaborate.

Without a second thought she sent the message, then leaned back into her chair and sighed heavily. Hopefully this would turn out to be a lot less serious than what she was anticipating.

----------------
Security Central
Deck 38
----------------

The news had been shared. The champagne poured (non alcoholic; they were all on duty), the hand shook, the congratulations taken place and more cigars smoked than James' aching, hacking lungs cared to admit.

He was riding on the high of being the father of a baby girl.

One he wouldn't be able to raise. A fact that wasn't, at the moment, important lest it crush the festivities. His deputies were joyous enough. For James, that was some consolation.

Lieutenant T'lan, exempt from the celebrations due to her stick-in-the-mud Vulcan heritage, approached the commander with some reverence. "Sir." T'lan said, "I congratulate you on the birth of your daughter. May she live long and prosper."

"Thank you T'lan." James looked up from his flute of synthesized champagne. In front of his more emotional deputies he could keep the sour part of his personality from ruining their fun, but in front of T'lan he might as well had been transparent. So he admitted, "Too bad I won't be there to watch her live long and prosper. To Nuhir." He downed his champagne and made a sour face, "Cheap and fake champagne. That's no way to celebrate."

T'lan said, "Perhaps if you want to cut the festivities short, I could remind you of a memo that was sent three minutes, twelve seconds ago." She handed James a PADD, "Here."

"Thank you." James nodded. He thumbed through the options on the PADD and cycled through the sentences. His eyes widened. There was something of interest there. "Figures." He sighed, resigned, looking down at the custom phaser he reclaimed both from his aching ribs and a nubile teenage Jem'Hadar peasant, "The Jem'Hadar were being very quiet lately. If they somehow had my weapon, god knows what else they are up to. How are the preparations for a raid on the refugees?"

His Vulcan deputy raised an eyebrow, which for her people was very questioning, "Sir... that may violate their rights."

"Then get search warrants ready." James Corgan ordered, "We may have to step up some plans. How are the patrols near that area?"

"Nothing to report sir." T'lan said astutely; James could always count on her to be prepared when he was not, "They report no unauthorized movement."

"And aside from Marsh and myself, I don't have a single veteran in security that would know a phased Jem'Hadar if it took a sh*t on him. Arrange for Marsh to take one of those patrols, get the current squads ready and stand by. I'm going to talk to Lieutenant Tarin. Just hope this doesn't get serious!"

"A strange little conversation.."

Featuring:
Second Lieutenant Greg Ward
ARC Operations Command, USS Galaxy

Corporal Richard Simmons
Marine Trooper/ARC Commando, USS Galaxy --NPC

Lance Corporal M. Lavernius Tucker
Marine Trooper/ARC Commando, USS Galaxy --NPC

========

Location: 2nd LT Ward's office,
"Marine Country"-USS Galaxy

Greg was hammering out another one of usual status reports to the head of the ARC Project which in recent months had gotten to be more and more specific as if something had happened that only a scant few knew about and following the change in the project's head from Major General Don Hammond to Rear Admiral Andrew Slayton following the events of the so called "Federation Day Coup" that the crew of the USS Miranda stopped.

Greg was filling out another part of the report when he felt a presence that made him look up to see Corporal Simmons, one of his ARC Troopers, standing in the doorway of his office. "Hey LT did you hear the news yet?" Simmons asked in a questioning tone.

"What news?" Greg asked as he put the screen of his desktop mounted terminal to on standby then blacked the screen for the moment. "Did the Romulans decide to take our people on Romulas hostage?" he asked.

Simmons shook his head negatively, "Nope, it seems somehow Lieutenant Baile has reappeared after his little disappearing act and there seems to be something else but that's all I know, LT." Simmons informed Greg who's questioning look went to one of disgust. "Um, did I say something that offended you, Chief?" Simmons then asked, using the term that he knew Greg preferred when talking with other ARCs sometimes.

"Yes, you've informed me that Mister Baile who abandonded his post just under a month ago has reappeared out of no where back on the Galaxy. That's what offended me, Simmons." Greg said, the spots that were faintly visible on the sides of his head and neck where a little bit more promedient than they normally was. "Mister Simmons, at this moment our commanding officer is Lieutenant London, not Civilian Baile do you under stand me?" Greg said in a short form.

"But sir, Lieutenant Baile didn't.." Simmons started to say but before he could finish, Ward was from around his desk and was in Simmons' face, instead of a look of rage like most marine officers would have, the half-trill marine lieutenant had an almost..calm look about him.

"Mister Simmons, what Mister Baile did was against most of the standard orders of the Starfleet Marines. He abandonded his post, put the officers and enlisted of his unit at risk by abandonding them in the field, and most important of all, he abandonded his post. There for, his actions are to be questioned to the highest degree by the brass." Greg said in a calm tone but his eyes revealed that this was a very serious matter since Ward was a ninth generation marine.

"So, basically..we can't trust our own people?" Simmons asked in a curious tone as he kind of tested the waters on the topic.

Greg closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "No Simmons, the point is that he's not our CO at the moment because of what he did. I want a descreet eye kept on him because no matter his reason, he abandonded his post and that is something that no marine can forgive easily...no matter what." Greg said sharply as he took a few steps back towards his desk.

Before Simmons could respond, Tucker ran into the room with a PADD in his hand which he then thrusted towards Ward before he could sit down which made the half-trill raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sir, this is *IMPORTANT*...it concerns you..and Dense Flores.." Tucker said between gasps of air and at the mention of the name "Flores", he snatched the PADD right out of Tucker's hand and started to read it, Ward's eyes getting bigger as he did so...

"New Toys, anyone?

Ensign Eve
Intelligence Officer (Technical Operations)

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

Deep within the bowels of the Galaxy's intelligence complex resided one particular compartment, singular in nature and intent. This compartment resembled a science lab, and at the same time the workshop of an engineer. Toss in a smattering of wizard gadgetry and you had the makings of an Intel TechOp's private sanctum sanctorum. Each techOp had their own flair, their own little quirks and idiosyncrasies. Eve was no different, her workspace a masterpiece of "organized chaos," as she called it. She knew exactly where everything was - with her memory she would - and it was all in a rather complicated pattern of arrangements that made for the most efficient use of space according to her style of work.

Currently, Eve was seated at her lab station, hard at work on a rather intricate object. It was rectangular, with various tidbits of odds and ends sticking out here and there. A single handle emerged from one side, ergonomically shaped for either right or left hand use. A trigger was mounted on the underside, nearly flush with the surface but protruding enough to let even a gloved hand know it was there. A display was embedded within the upper surface, cannibalized from a spare PADD that had been lying around. A smattering of tricorders, two combadges, a number of medical implements - replicated, so she wouldn't impinge upon the ships medical readiness - and a whole gaggle of tools was also arrayed about her, cases opened, and various odds and ends scavenged from each, said parts ending up in a variety of arrangements within the rectangular case. Sensor grids; pressure regulator monitors; two subspace transceiver assemblies: one for an up link with the infernal sensor net, the other for a posited interlinking of multiple units, if she ever made more than just the one; biorhythm algorithmic processors, and a variety of other odds and ends went into the contraption.

Holding a battery - one intended for a type 2 phaser - Eve frowned. Where would this fit? a-HAH! The handle! She'd need to hollow it out a bit, install some reinforcement, power leads, and what the heck, an adaptor for a phaser charger to plug into it. After all, Security was going to want to use this, were they?

Two hours later Eve sat back and admired her handiwork. All in all, it was bulkier and heavier than she had initially anticipated, but it should do the job. It was based off of something from an old science fiction movie one of her roommates in the Academy had loved watching, Alien. There had been some in-human nasty that was killing off the crew of the ship, and they didn't even have tricorders! What primitive technology, even for spacefaring people. Anyways, they put together a motion sensor that measured air pressure to tell where the alien was ... but it was a limited thing, restricted to a verry specific arc, and even then it didn't work half the times!

Well, Eve had been busy at work with her own Motion Tracker. Theoretically, this one would 'see' in all directions, and the embeded bio sensors would filter out living beings as programed by the operator. The uplink to the ship would let it use the medical database to corelate the readings with those in it's filter ... well, we could go on and on about it's specific operations, but that's for the Security guys to figure out. After all, Eve hadn't crafted a Users Guide for this. The PADD display was user friendly as it was, everything was a fingers touch away.

All of this, just to try and catch any shrouded Jem'Hadar. Since they didn't emit biosigns, at least not while shrouded, this thing would work beautifully, because then all you'd have to do is filter out all life signs, and any movement that results is either an object, or a shrouded Jem'Hadar.

Theoretically.

Pulling out a complete tricorder, the scanned the device and it's specifications, miscelanious details, and other tidbis onto an isolinear chip and then set the tricorder off to the side. Picking up the motion tracker, she pulled the trigger to activate it. The screen came alive, displaying the BIT diagnostic as it progressed. So far all was well.

*fizzle-POP!*

Eve dropped the device, jumping back as it clattered to the deck. a brightness could be seen glowing within the case, and with an surprisingly quiet bang it died. Retrieving her tricorder, Eve knelt down and started scanning the misshapen hulk, Looks like the second model would need more fuses than she'd anticipated. Hmm ...

Depositing the warped mess into the industrial strength replicator for breakdown, Eve turned back to the workbench to start over once again. She'd get it right, eventually.

"They Say Time's A Healer - Part 2"

Michael McDowell
Civilian Engineering specialist

Private Alliya Yhwalyan
Marine, Corporal (APC, Written by Dru)

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

"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.

- And now the story is continued -

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

Michael was still staring at the 'Angel' before him. His eyes and mouth were wide open but he did little else.

Aliya looked at the state of a man before her and shook her head. "No angels for you mate." she announced waltzing through the door. "Just a strong cup," she turned and looked at him as she scanned the room looking for the replicator, "make that an entire pot of coffee." she let out an aggravated sigh as she tapped the order.

"Coffee??" Michael exclaimed. "No wayzz, not that black zstuff. Not for me. Give me zssome of that over there. Tazste zssoo much better." He pointed at a bottle that still stood at the table.

Alliya shook her head. There was no room for argument, nothing, not even a totally intoxicated engineer got in the way of what she wanted. walking over to the disheveled man she heaved him up and half dragged him towards the couch and plonked him down. she was a lot stronger than she looked.

"No more drink for you, its time for you to sober up and actually do something useful on this ship." she replied with a note of distasted. she hated layabouts, especially drunk lay abouts.

That latest remark didn't go unnoticed by Michael, drunk as he was. "Who are you to szzsay that!? You don't even know me,...and I sszzure aszz hell can be useful...in more wayszz then you know, mind you."

"Really?" she replied folding her arms, "Drink the coffee, sober up and then

prove it to me." she leaned in forward so that he might just be able to make

out her features, maybe even her uniform!, "Think you can manage that civilian?" she added in a degrading tone.

"I..uh..dunno. Szzomeone said that drinking izzss bad for your libido. Zssoo you zssee...it might not work." Michael said in sheepish way.

Alliya rolled her eyes, "If you want a fuck you need to look elsewhere boyo!" she shook her head as the image floated through her mind, coupled with the image of a toilet basin and the contents of her stomach!

"Hey, you sszugessted it, not me. Geez. I wasszz only trying to be friendly." Michael really had no idea why the woman was acting so strange. He could've sworn she'd hinted at sex. He looked at the pot of coffee that stood before him. "Musszt I really? That'ss two potsz of coffee you know. Way too much caffeine."

"I didn't pour it for me did I. Wouldn't be caught dead drinking that swill!" she replied coldly. She sighed again shifting her weight, "Look, McDowell. I need an engineer, you are the only one that is available. Intoxicated or not, you are going to help me. It is an order, not a request. Now drink it and sober up I don't want this to take all night. If you lot took better notice of engineering then you would have perhaps caught O'Shea *before* she planted bugs in every system!"

"Ouchzz, that hurts. We alwayssz getsz to blame when suchzs thingz happensz. Iszz...not fair." Michael said before he took his first infinitesimal sip of coffee. After he'd swallowed it his facial contractions made it all to clear what he thought of the hot liquid. "Yikeszz, you call thiszz Coffee!??"

"No." Alliya replied, "I call it Rak'd'jeno! Klingons have a way with coffee, like no other. The smell tends to wake most up. The taste, so I am told, takes your taste buds with it. Makes sense seeing as Klingons eat gagh and blood worm pie!" she said, a cruel smile dancing across her rose bud lips.

"Well, call it whatz you want. I'm not drinking this Rajko..., Raljzok..., zstuff." Michael said while placing the hot steamy cup back on the table. At least, he thought he did. Instead, when he released the cup, it fell on the ground. "Oopszz... Dhani won't likesz that."

"I don't like it either but its not my quarters so I cant complain. And I'm not about to mother you and clean it up for you." she told him sternly. "Now I'm not going to tell you again to sober up. What I am going to tell you though is that you are a worthless piece of scum. No better than the dirt on my shoes. I cant believe that you even were an officer on this ship. you certainly don't act like one. What's more you don't even do anything here. How can you face yourself every day? Getting up and wasting your time while your room mate goes out to work every night? Humm? Tell me that Mr. McDowell. I will admit that it was a bad piece of luck being demoted and all, but to sit here in your own filth and let yourself go.... its a waste. You should just shoot yourself now and be done with it." she took off her phaser and threw it on the ground before him and turned around, marched to the door.

"However if you want to actually contribute something to this garbage hauler

that you live on, and take from and eat from.... come and find me!"

The door opened, light spilling into the darkened room. Her silhouette moved with grace as she stormed out, completely frustrated.

Michael was stumped. Alright, so he was demoted, but that was years and years back. He got over that eventually. And he got his revenge on the people that really were the cause of the freighter incident and his demotion. A smile played around his mouth when he thought back on that adventure.

He looked down at the Phaser. Did she really think he would use that? He was at an all time low point of his life, yes. Who wouldn't be when they heard one of their parents had died a few days ago? The pain came back as soon as Michael's thoughts went back to this morning when he read the subspace message from Starfleet Command. A tear formed and rolled over his cheek. Why? Always that same question.

But commit suicide? No way. He wasn't that desperate. So his life meant nothing at the moment, he didn't make a difference,...and his mother passed away, but that didn't mean he should kill himself. He just got drunk for once to get away from it all for a few hours. That behavior alone was strange enough for Michael since he never got drunk. He never touched the stuff, except for this time. And now, right at this moment, SHE came barging in. All she saw was a drunk guy and nothing else. She couldn't know that he wasn't really like this and what really was going on. But the fact was that she did see him in that way now.

"Well, the hell withzz it!" He stumbled towards the replicator and ordered a large cup of Rak'd'jeno. Within a few minutes he´d drank it all. Same thing happened with the second cup. Finally, after some half hour the strong beverage kicked in. Though Michael still felt lightheaded, it gave him the strength to start cleaning up the mess he made.

*** Almost two hours later ***

Michael cleared his throat and straightened his tunic. He was standing in front of Private Alliya Yhwalyan's quarters and was about to press the chime. He hesitated, his finger hovering above the actuator the controlled the him, not sure if he should really go through with this. After all, she did say she found him "a worthless piece of scum". What would she do when saw him? Punch him in the face? That was hardly something he looked forward to.

In the end he pressed the chime anyway. Whatever she thought of him, it couldn't be good. That he had to change.

The door parted after a few minutes revealing a smirking marine, "Took you long enough." she replied.

Breezing past him she began to walk down the corridor, "We will swing by engineering to get you a tool kit and a Tricorder, you'll need one..." she paused and turned around. McDowell was still standing in the doorway to her quarters, a slightly stunned look on his face, "Well are you coming or not?"

"Something wrong?" Michael asked surprised. "I mean, I just came down here to explain e few things..."

Alliya shook her head, "You came down here to prove to me that you weren't a

waste of space. And that is exactly what your going to do."

She took a small step towards him, "I'm not a counselor, Mr. McDowell. Don't let my back eyes fool you into thinking that I give a dam about your welfare. I am a marine Mr McDowell. I have a job to you, and whatever and whoever gets in my way is dealt with, do you comprehend that Mr. McDowell? Or would you like to meet my commanding officer? His name is Baile, has lovely eyes.." she digressed, smiling at him she chuckled, "Believe me, you don't want to be face to face with him. So I ask you, what's it going to be? Me or Baile?"

Michael sighed. What kind of woman was this? The type that ate guys like him for breakfast it seemed. "Don't tell me you Marines don't talk. You may tell all the world you have a hard of pure Titanium and that talking is for sissies, but I don't buy that."

"Well how about you ask that question to Baile. I'm sure he would give you something to chew on!" she remarked.

That was it for Michael. She was as stubborn as could be. The most stubborn ´lady´ he'd ever met. "Well hey, sorry for stopping by and thinking I could set some things straight. You go ahead and get a Toolkit and Tricorder. I'm sure you know how to use them. I'm out of here!"

"Fine!" Alliya shouted after him, "Go on, be a useless fuck wit. You will *never* be allowed back into Starfleet, they know what you are. The truth that you deny, you are nothing McDowell. You are worthless. And you had so much potential. Such a waste."

Michael stopped dead in his tracks, then did a 180 on his heels and walked straight back to that spoiled brat of a Marine. He was this close to yell at her at the top of his lungs. As he saw it now it was simply impossible to even be near her without getting a huge argument. "Listen Lady, whatever you may think of me, I'm no 'fuck wit' and I'm sure not worthless! At least I know that much. And if I was worthless, why ask for ME to repair something? That could only be someone without even this much knowledge of Engineering. Now, THAT is what I call...being worthless!"

"Worth; adjective, meaning meriting or justifying; having value of, excellence; value or price; amount to be had or given sum. That is the definition of 'worth'." She replied as if quoting from a dictionary, "Worthless adjective the opposite of worth. You have this knowledge yet you do not use it. That is a definition of worthless Mr. McDowell." she replied flatly.

"Great, a walking dictionary." Michael commented dryly. "Your point exactly? And please, don't come with language specific details. It's booooring!"

"My point Mr. McDowell is simple, and I am surprised that you , an incredibly intelligent engineer can so easily miss it! You are worthless. You are as such because you do not respect the ship you are on, nor the people around you. You sit in *someone-else's* quarters on your arse every minuet of the day doing nothing to help the community around you. You were an outstanding officer. And now you are nothing. You do not put to use the years of training and experience you have. Therefore you are worthless. For to have worth you would need to justify your reasons for being here. And alas you can not. You contribute nothing McDowell. And I suggest that your room mate whoever she is, is most likely getting sick and tired of you. If you were my roommate i would have kicked you off this ship a log time ago. either pack up your bags McDowell or pick up a spanner!"

Michael took a few moments to digest all what she'd said, the shook his head in unbelief. "You don't know what you're talking about. Really, you don't. And I'm surprised I am having this conversation with you at all. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall! You're pretty darn egocentric bit...-woman." That was the end of the their little chat as for he was concerned and so he simply walked passed her in the direction of the nearest Turbo Lift.

Alliya watched him go, astonished slightly that he was so arrogant not to help an officer, on a ship that he basically sponged off. Biting down on her anger she shrugged it off and resigned to go it alone. so she couldn't get an engineer to help her.... but she was resourceful, and besides how hard could it be any ways?

"Holodeck Adventures: Part 1"

Ens Eve, Tech Op, Intelligence

Lt.(jg) Nara Roswell, Engineering

*****Nara's Quarters*****

Eve's interest piqued as she stood. "What do you have in mind?"

"Dunno. Rock climbing? Swimming?" Then her eyes widened, "Horse-back riding! I think you'll enjoy that." She kept her tongue about revamping the default program. That would be bragging.

Eve cocked her head to the side. "Hose-back riding?" That was one of the things she had aparently missed. "What planet is a horse-back from?"

A huge grin came over Nara's face. "Earth. They're actually just horses. We ride their backs. Using saddles and..." She stopped and waved Eve toward the door, "Come on, I'll show you."

*****Minutes Later at Holodeck 3*****

Nara entered first. It was the typical pasture layout. Rolling green hills with a man-made pond with trees scattered about. There was a white fence surrounding an area. There were a few horses in the pasture, but Nara's favorite was in the stable. As she programmed it so she could find it easily.