Lamar:

"The Waiting Game"

Rayna slowly opened her eyes as she regained consciousness. She could hear what sounded like metal clinking against metal and the smell of food filled the air. There was some coughing and a few groans and moans around her. She tried to lift her head up to see where it was coming from in the dimly lit room or what seemed to be a room, but couldn't, not yet. As her eyes focused more, she could see a figure sitting down in the corner attending to a pot hanging and cooking over a small fire. Rayna once again tried to sit up, pushing herself up with her hands but one of her wrists had deep intense pain. She grabbed the wrist and noted that it was splinted.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you. You've got a slight concussion. Sorry about that."

Rayna wasn't quite sure why she was apologizing, "Why? Because I hit my head?"

Chuckles slightly, "No but because I was responsible for hurting you."

"Hmmm and my wrist?"

"Yeah, that too. But if I hadn't, you'd be dead."

"Well, then thank you."

The woman handed her a cup, "Here you go. Drink up." Rayna looked at her for a briief moment, "It's Romulan soup but that's all we have right now."

Rayna heard that it was nasty stuff and after tasting it, she had to agree. She drank it anyway. "So, where are you from?" Rayna asked.

"Our ship, the USS Hood was destroyed. We were able to escape before it was too late. And you?"

"The USS Miranda. I was down here on assignment when Romulas was attacked."

"Ah, was that the first time you've ever seen a Hydran?"

"Yeah. And hopefully, I won't see one again." Rayna just wanted to go home to her kids.

"Don't we all." The woman took the cup, "Rest now."

"Treatment"

Second lieutenant Branwen London - SFMC

Executive officer Galaxy Furies and Furies counselor

Lieutenant Erastus Ampete

Assistant Chief of Science - USS Miranda

=====================

Marine Aid Camp, Romulus

=====================

"Next!" Branwen called out. Now there were some more doctors to help out, they had her seeing to the lighter wounded. Since there was still a shortage of doctors the medical department couldn't do without her. But at least now she didn't feel so completely out of her depth. She felt more secure doing first aid work and even a little counseling of the bereaved and the frightened patients. Having Man'darr and Victor close helped a lot as well.

Era had been sitting quietly, waiting for a moment when a doctor could get to her. She was elated to have found not just Starfleet personnel, but a friend as well. There had been little time for her to catch up with For'kel - both were too exhausted to do much talking on the way back to the aid station and once there he had had things to do. Era had drifted into a corner, unsure how to help, the triage surrounding her producing a distinct feeling of hopelessness. She hadn't even thought to have her wound checked out until the place where she was sitting turned into a line for medical services, and now she was up next.

Rising to her feet, she came over to where the doctor waited. Blood had dried on her hair and face, and some still oozed from the cut to her head. "Guess that's me."

Bran smiled. "Hello there, miss. Let me have a look at that. Don't worry too much, head wounds usually bleed a lot but are seldom dangerous. Any dizziness or nausea?" She guided Era to a makeshift bed. "I am Branwen by the way."

Era had gotten used to being led by the hand by nurses while in the mental hospital and so quietly went where she was directed. "Erastus. A little dizziness, a little nausea," she admitted, though whether derived from the head wound or the appalling situation she couldn't say.

"Let's have a look, miss." Bran said running a scanner over the wound.

"Looks like a bit of a concussion." She said while working. "How did you end up here anyway, miss Erastus?"

A week ago, Era would have been quick to correct anyone calling her miss, preferring the title lieutenant. Yet now, after so long, she'd grown accustomed to a civilian form of address - it matched her civilian attire. "I met up with Colonel Arvelion. Helped him out of a tight spot," she explained, not thinking to answer why she was on Romulus on the first place. After all, why were any of them? "He brought me back here."

"You met the colonel? He is my boss." She looked at the disheveled woman.

"Are you a Starfleet officer?" Bran continued to work her scanner.

"Of course I am." The question nettled her, as did the look. "I'm Lieutenant Ampete of the USS Miranda. Who are you?" It was blunt, tactless, far from the usual Era.

"Ah..." Bran said. "Sorry, ma'am. I am second lt. Branwen London, USMC USS Galaxy. I eh... you are so out of uniform."

"Am I? Really?!" Sarcasm etched itself onto her words with a venom quite foreign to the naturally good-tempered Kaelian. "That must explain why I only now got out of a Romulan hell-hole. If only I'd thought to wear my uniform!" And in an expression of mocking duncity, she smacked her open palm to her forehead, aggravating the wound the doctor was attempting to heal. "Thank you 'so' much for telling me."

"Move your hand away." Bran said less then kind herself now. "You are making things worse. And for your info I have been working here almost non-stop for nearly 3 days now doing a job that is not mine. I try to stay nice to people but you are not making it easy." She took up another tool. "Hold still now, I wont' want to miss the area I am treating, ma'am."

"One more doctor who thinks I hinder their job." Era's hand dropped back down, letting Branwen access the afflicted area. "Do they train you doctors in how to be arrogant, or does it just come naturally?"

"Jeez, I can ask the same of you, you know. Are all Miranda crew assholes?

Usually people say I am too nice, this is certainly new for me. And I am not a doctor." Now she concentrated and bit the tip of her tongue to do a good job and not hurt her patient.

Era was tired of sitting still; tired of being pushed around, told what to do and not do, and most of all angered that when she finally got to the place where she wanted to be she found it to be just as confining as where she had been. Rudely pushing the woman's hand out of the way, she got up. "It'll heal on its own."

"Idiot!" Bran called out finally having enough of taking crap from people after 3 days. "You could have really made me hurt you are you crazy or something. Sit back down here, you have a concussion and that wound needs suturing!"

Era snapped. "I am not crazy! I am not sick! I am not useless!" she railed at the woman, incensed beyond reason, unaware of the volume of her voice or the scene she was creating.

Somehow this helped to calm Branwen down. She backed off a little bit and regarded the other woman, at the same time she took a deep breath. "Look, I am sorry, I shouldn't have said you are crazy. I know you are not sick and I doubt you are useless. But I do need to look after your wounds. ... Please?"

Era had been all set to continue her tirade, but the "please" touched something inside her that calmed her anger. She seemed to fold into herself, succumbing to that single word. "Okay," she mumbled, returning to the bed she'd just abandoned.

Bran touched her shoulder gently. Waiting for the woman to settle before treating her again. "What happened to you, ma'am." The Welshwoman asked softly.

"Nothing." Then, proceeding to ignore her own statement, Era elaborated, though again choosing which happening to detail. "Got into a hand-to-hand with a Hydran. Closed the distance before he could fire his rifle, so he clubbed me with it."

"That must have been disconcerting." Bran said picking up the tool again.

"But I bet you lost your uniform before. Please sit still again, ma'am." She warned.

Era bristled at the warning, the tone stirring her out of the sudden lethargy, but obeyed. "I lost it in a cemetery."

Bran noticed her jumpiness. "Ma'am, whatever happened to you was obviously very stressful, I understand you don't want to talk about it with a total stranger but when you get back to your ship please talk to one of the counselors on board, okay?" She said kindly while she continued to work.

Something between a sigh and a snort preceded her answer. "Fine. Almost done?"

"Almost, ma'am. You have a concussion, I can give you something for it, but I am going to strongly recommend you stay here and rest for at least an hour or two. You will be much more useful afterwards if you do." She finished gently.

The thought of rest, of sleep, was definitely appealing. "I can do that," she nodded.

Bran finished. "Okay, that's it. Let's find you a bed and how about I check up on you in a few hours after you have rested?"

Again Era nodded and followed the woman to an available bed where she could stretch out for a few hours at the least. "Thanks."

Ensign T'Jaden "TJ" Tagra, Engineering Officer, USS Miranda
Jacen McAlister, Civilian Bartender, USS Miranda, npc

Deck 23, Medical Lab

TJ was out on the Lab's biobed. His induced slumber was ensuring his recovery take faster than if he where awake, at least that's what the Med personnel kept telling Jacen.

It had been two days since the battle, and two days without certainty. When he was contacted about TJ, Jacen was being treated for first and second degree burns while getting prepped for surgery. The EPS feed to the replicator in their quarters blew when the Miranda went spinning. Unfortunately, that spinning sent him towards the blast and not way from it.

All the burns where to his head's right side and his left arm. The blast had caused his right eye's lens to have severe trauma from shrapnel, which he was told later would have to be replaced.

So here he was, sitting by the bed; head shaved clean with all burns treated, though his skin still had a redness to it and with a bandage over his eye. He watched TJ every waking hour, hoping he would be allowed to wake up.

The Medics told him that all his right side ribs had been broken and three had punctured his lung. Normally, this wasn't too much of an issue with modern medicine, but TJ's lungs where thirty percent more vascular than normal, and the damage was in a critical area. Had he been allowed to stay awake, they weren't certain he'd heal correctly. Besides, Jacen knew that as soon as he'd wake, TJ would be sprinting back to Engineering to lend a hand, even against all protests by the Medical staff, and Jacen. He was loyal to a fault at times.

He was also informed of the Cadet Midshipman who helped TJ down in Engineering, and Jacen intended to thank her for everything after all this was done with and they where safe back in Federation space.

A nurse walked in and checked TJ over once, "You'll be happy to know that the treatments took," she said, smiling. She removed the medical thingy from TJ's head, "Give him a few minutes and he'll be awake, but sore. His ribs and lung are fully healed, but a majority of the bruises where left since they weren't life threatening."

Jacen just smiled back at her, "Thanks. What about work? Trust me, he'll want to know." She looked TJ over and thought about that for a second, "I'm going to put him on light duty for at least a day. He can go back as soon as he wants, but no running around Jeffries Tubes or replacing anything heavier than 10 kilos." She was typing something into he PADD while she talked, "I've sent the message to his CO. So you don't have to worry that he won't listen. Besides, after at least 24 hours, he should be fine. The soreness will go away and he'll be good as new. So, if you'll excuse me, I've got other patients to tend to. The replicator is working, so he can get a fresh uniform." She waved as she left and Jacen returned it.

No sooner than the doors hissed closed that TJ woke. His eyes opened slowly and he looked around, "Where am I?" "Med Lab 7, I think. Deck 23," Jacen replied. TJ looked over and his eyes nearly fell from their sockets, "I'd never think of you taking on the Deltan and Pirate look!"

"Ha ha funny man," Jacen said as he went on to explain what happened to both himself and TJ. "Most everything in our quarters is fine, except the wall. The Dinner Table will have to be replaced, but its nothing. The nurse said your free to go back to work, though on light duty."

TJ sat up and noticed he was in a medical gown. "Let me replicate you a uniform. I've got you commbadge, so no worries on getting a replacement," Jacen stated.

TJ dressed and ran his hands through his hair, "Believe me Smoothnose, I don't want to go. I'd rather stay with you, but-" "But you've got to help get he ship up to speed, I know. I want you to," Jacen finished for him, wrapping his arms around his partner. TJ held his love for a moment, "I made it through this. I'll see you soon, I promise." He kissed Jacens' bare scalp.

Jacen pulled away and just looked at him. He cupped his left cheek in his hand, "I love you. Go kick some Hydran ass." TJ held his mate's hand, "For you, I'll kick several ships in the ass." He leaned in and kissed Jacen with a fiery passion, then pulled away, "I love you with everything Jacen. Tam was right, you are my Imzadi. Never forget that."

Jacen wanted to cry with that statement, but held it back, "I won't. Now go, before I change my mind about letting you." TJ smiled and kissed Jacen on the cheek before leaving.

Jacen stood and watched the doors close, still holding his cheek where TJ had just kissed him. "Gaia watch over us all," he whispered as he left to do what he could to help.

Jacen never mentioned that he heard TJ reaching for him two days ago. Now wasn't the time. He needed focus for the fight ahead.

"After Effects"

PFC Norma Jean Riley (NPC)

Maintenance Technician

Furies 188th Detachment, USS Galaxy

(OOC: Occurs just before the Fleet pulls out - I was waiting for Dave to respond to my email but felt that delaying the post would detract from the new turn of events. Sorry Dave.)

****

Temporary Aid Station

Ra'tleihfi (Ki Baratan)

ch'Rihan

****

The Romulan woman had stayed with her for almost an hour while they talked. They had talked about all manner of topics, from the latest in Romulan fashion to the story of her life; about her family; the marines; and even about the act of committing suicide. And through it all, Norma began to realize that there was more to life than the marines, more to live for. Much more. That she had tried to take the cheap way out, made her feel sick in her stomach now.

The woman had begrudgingly given her rifle back, no doubt with a heavy dose of unsurety whether the Terran would try and attempt that shameful act again. Norma had assured her that she wouldn't. Not any more. And she had meant it.

Pulling a ration bar from her pocket, she pealed the wrapper back and took a bite. She blanched at the taste, but continued chewing. As horrible as it tasted, it was sustenance, and she didn't know when she'd get to eat again. Swallowing with an audible gulp, she took another bite. As she chewed, she saw a young Romulan boy sitting watching her. Wearing a tattered shirt, and shorts that were little better, he looked like the young orphan boy from that movie they had shown in the Marine commons a few days before they had been deployed. It seemed like it had been weeks since that day, but that was war for you.

She looked at her bar and then back at the kid. She pointed at him and then the snack, and he nodded in response. She waved him over and handed him the half eaten ration bar. He turned to go, but Norma go the shock of her life when he turned back and threw his arms around her in a hug. She hugged him back and then smiled at him when their embrace ended. She watched as he scampered back to his seat and with eager little arms, he ripped into the bar and devoured it in one mouthful. She couldn't help but wonder at what the the Romulan people and their government did all day to leave young children in such a state of malnutrition.

She frowned when a handful of more children descended on the young boy as he ate. Pulling her last two bars from her pack, she started to open them up, breaking them into thirds for the other children that were headed her way, once the boy had pointed out where he had gotten the food. When she ran out, and with more eager children standing around she shrugged her shoulders. Despite the language barriers, - she couldn't speak a lick of Romulan - they seemed to understand, turning away in sadness. Then spotting a group of marines, whom she didn't recognize, walk past, she waved at the kids to wait.

"Lieutenant," she called out to get his attention, "you don't have any spare ration bars on you?" She nodded in the direction of the children as an explanation.

Even in the biggest war of most of their lives, with such suffering and destruction, there was always something that brightened the mood. And seeing the children's eager eyes on him, he couldn't help but smile. "I think we can spare some."

Norma watched as each of the small band on men gave up a ration bar each. Though a single bar didn't seem like much to most people, with all that they were going through, Norma understood the sacrifice they were making. For some it might be their last one, and then they'd have to either share or scavenge for food out in Ra'tleihfi.

"Here." He said as he walked over and handed her the bars.

"Thank you." She smiled. He was a looker, that was for sure. And he seemed to be a better-than-good soldier. So many had died, and yet he looked like he didn't even have a scratch on him. Therefore she assumed that he was a pretty good shot with the rifle he wore slung over his shoulder.

Unwrapping a bar, she started handing it out to the children.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Norma nodded, never stopping in her task. "I am now, sir."

"Good. We need all the help we can get around here." He rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, causing her to look up at him. "This is a wonderful thing you're doing for them."

"I doubt they understand the sacrifice that giving these away will mean to your unit, in the long term, that is, but it doesn't diminish the good it does to see them smile, even if only for a moment."

"Too right. Keep up the good." he replied. "I..."

"El-tee," one of the men called out, "we need to get going if we are to catch up to Baker company before the sun comes up."

He turned and nodded to the men. "I'm Damon, by the way." he said turning back to Norma.

"Norma Jean" she replied with a smile. "Good luck up there."

"You too." He replied with a nod, before he and the men started at a brisk walk towards the southern exit to the aid station.

Watching his back as he retreated from the room, she couldn't help but mutter, "He's definitely a looker."

Their stomach's sated for now, the children ran off to play, filled with a boundless energy that Norma had not seen for a long time.

She looked around at the mess that was the small cave. She spotted an aging terran doctor, that she was sure she had met somewhere before, though couldn't think where. He was busy trying to save one of the patients, and he looked very skilled at his profession. Momentarily, he stopped, seeing that the patient had succumbed to his injuries, despite all his tireless effort. He shook his head, whether in anger or sadness, Norma couldn't tell, and looked up, and incidentally, right in Norma's direction. She blushed, when she she saw that he had seen her staring at him. He just smiled.

Norma sat there watching the Physician as the next patient was brought in. He wiped the back of his blood soaked hand across his brow, leaving a trail of blood in it's wake. She giggled, drawing his gaze again. Raising his hands questioningly, she rubbed at her brow briefly, highlighting what he had just done. Even with her limited knowledge of anything relating to medicine, she knew that it wasn't very hygienic to have someone else's blood there, where it could fall onto the next patient. Especially during triage in a makeshift hospital. Much like mixing Grease and Oil, it wasn't a good idea. She had done that once and it wasn't something she wanted to repeat.

He nodded in her direction before turning to the nurse to get it cleaned off.

Looking back at her weapon, she shook her head at the thought of what she had almost done earlier in the day. Probably due to being trapped in such a fraken situation, she mused.

Another explosion could be heard, on the surface, and the shock sent more dust down covering everything. The lights dimmed, but for a moment before beginning to flicker as the generator started coughing and eventually spluttering to a stop, sending the area into darkness.

Norma smiled. Finally, something she could actually do, other than sit around and moan about her pitiful existence. Turning on the flashlight of her rifle, she got up, and padded over to the generator.

Yes, this was definitely something she was qualified to do.

OOC: By now this might be a slight back-post... my apologies but I actually forgot I had it set on. The Romulan Snipers are ofcourse played by Jola.

"Sniper!"

Lieutenant Colonel For'kel Arvelion-SFMC Commanding Officer/Alpha Company CO 101st Battalion

=======================================

For the forces on the ground, the Marines, Hazard, and ad-hoc security groups assigned to bolster Romulus' defenses, borrowing an old Terran military term, it was D-day plus three... almost exactly seventy-two hours since the mass invasion had begun.

For'kel was exhausted, as he figured everyone must have been as they'd been engaging and withdrawing almost non-stop since the order to break down by squad was given. Now he was trying to get a squad to a warehouse behind Hydran lines, reputed to be a stockpiling point that had been over looked during the invasion. Ironically, it was the same boy that he'd given the aid kit to who clued him in... a debt repaid one can say.

As if menuvering through a city without benefit of most of their technology at night and behind enemy lines, eluding patrols all the way wasn't difficult enough, he was about to find out things could always get worse.

Hanaj sat cradling his disruptor rifle. He'd been one of the lucky few to actually get a meeting with the Hydrans before being shot at. That he put down to his firm belief that he knew the right way. Everyone else had been going to plead for clemency. Cowards. Any boy who'd grown up on the streets, getting by from day to day off the sweat of his hands as Hanaj had, knew that you didn't beg mercy from the big dogs. You courted them. You fawned and whined and you did their dirty work for them and in the end, when they won as they always did, they tossed you a bone.

And if Hanaj played his cards right, Romulus would be a damn good bone.

Vrih drew his attention, pointing past a small fire from a smoldering, abandoned barricade. Squinting through the smoke into the gloom, Hanaj caught sight of the intruders. He spat to the side, taking aim at the one in front. Filthy Federation carpetbaggers, here to rut in his home's devestation.

Hanaj fired.

The beam glanced off some debris before hitting For'kel in the shoulder, the mandatory standard issue body armor saving him from a wound that would in all likelihood have severed his arm if he'd taken it without the ample protection of the suit. It was still a rather nasty hit, the skin around the open wound burned by process of thermal damage.

Still, it wasn't enough to take him out of the fight. "Sniper, get down!"

Vrih's shots came next, two in rapid succession, aimed at herding the Starfleeters back into the open - or at least forcing them to move from one area of cover to another, leaving the take-downs to Hanaj who had the better aim. Vrih didn't particularly dislike Starfleet. He could respect their abilities and had to give credit to any entity that had survived for so long against numerous superior enemies. But the Hydrans were different. They could ensure victory. And Vrih always backed a winner.

"Two of them sir, third floor of that micro-tower." Lieutenant Dana Collins, a long time 101st officer whispered barely above the whine of the incoming Romulan disruptors.

"We'll flank left. Cougar, you and Jasum flank right. Tollis, give us some covering fire, make sure you're out of their firing arcs before approaching the building."

Cougar gave a nod, indicating he understood. Tollis, a Bajoran Marine took up position next to For'kel and returned fire, followed in short order by the other six Marines in the squad, their Phaser blasts striking damn close to the building, impacting near the windows.

Hanaj and Vrih, in their separate corners of the building, ducked down as the opposing fire began. Hanaj, the more determined of the two, only waited a moment after the first barrage before rising again to take aim and fire. He only got off a single shot before leaving his chosen position and working his way through the building for a better vantage point based on the cover the Marines had taken.

Vrih gritted his teeth as he heard Hanaj fire. There were more than he'd anticiapted. Not that the small handful of Starfleet Marines would prove problematic for the Hydrans, but Vrih rather desired to live to see them all taken down. If Hanaj did something stupid... Vrih didn't trust the younger man. He had too much of an idealistic turn of mind. Dangerous, that was, in the middle of a war.

Peering over the sill of the window, Vrih caught sight of dark figures moving just out of sight. Not all that surprising, and he'd planned for that. Pulling over the tripod that had lain ready, he set up a rifle on it, aimed out the window at where the Marines had taken cover, and set the weapon to random fire. Then, as quietly as he could, he crept toward the rear entrance to the building.

It was always the one group that you missed that caused the most trouble. As Cougar was spotted, he and his backup running full stride for the rear entrance, For'kel and Dana managed to gain entrance through a second floor window.

Holy crap! They were being fired upon by... Romulans?! "Drop your weapons!"

Vrih cursed as the two burst in on him. He didn't immediately drop his rifle, training it first on the man, then the woman, then back again. He wondered where Hanaj had gotten himself.

For'kel didn't have the hesitation the young, inexperienced child did. When he didn't immediately drop the weapon the Stagnorian pulled the trigger. Fair was fair, he was given a chance to surrender and didn't, it was time to move on.

Dana de-activated the automated firing drone. "This could be of use if we take it with us."

He gave a nod, searching Vrih for any last-minute traps or intelligence of where he might have come from.

Vrih was devoid of either, all the sensitive materials having been entrusted to the de facto leader of the duo, Hanaj, who was now advancing toward the room from the south side of the building, having heard the command and shot. Crouching low, he peeked around a corner, catching sight of the female's back. It was an obstructed shot, but Hanaj didn't think twice and fired.

No sooner had she heard the beam hit the desk behind her the sniper pair had erected as a makeshift fortification then she ducked behind it, pulling her rifle around to return fire.

She didn't have to however, the footsteps of two additional Marines, the ones Hanaj was 'going' to fire at, stopped right behind him. Cougar pressed his rifle's emitter rather pointedly against the back of the Romulan's head. "Put it down!"

The disruptor clattered to the floor. "Don't shoot!"

Dana slowly got up from her hiding space, keeping a rifle trained on him from the front. No less than three different Marines had him in their sights as For'kel approached. He picked up the Romulan rifle and powered it down. "What the 'hell' were you doing?!"

Hanaj started to scoff, then felt the warning press of the rifle against the back of his neck and swallowed it back. "I do not have to answer that."

For'kel smirked. He certainly had guts to say something like that to four people he was about to kill, and were all too ready to return the favor. Patting him down, the Stagnorian removed a disruptor pistol, a pair of grenades, his excess information, and the documents he'd been carrying... all of which would likely prove valuable. "Don't you realize we're not the ones you should be fighting?"

Hanaj did some quick thinking. The Hydrans might be the big dogs on a planetary scale, but right now his world was a lot smaller and these Marines were a lot bigger than he alone. "You're right, you're right. My mistake. It's so dark, it's hard to see, I didn't think Starfleet would have penetrated so far behind the lines," he wheedled.

"Huh, and rather then say something after you heard what happened to your friend, you opted to fire at my Marine instead?" It was obvious For'kel didn't believe him. Rather roughly pushing the man in the Bajoran's way he gave simple directions. "Tie his hands and gagh him. If he tries running, shoot him."

"Wait, no! I can be of use to you!" Hanaj struggled as his hands were pulled behind his back and bound.

"Yeah, I intend on hiding behind you if we run across the Hydrans." For'kel murmured, taking stock of what they did find. "Of use 'how'?"

"I know where they are. I can show you."

"When I'm ready to find them, you will. How much can you carry?" If nothing else, they can use him as a pack mule.

"Carry?" This wasn't what Hanaj had been bargaining for. "I can't carry anything with my hands tied."

"Sure you can." Cougar clapped him on the shoulder. "Nothing wrong with your back, and we brought plenty of bags."

"Let's get going." For'kel muttered as soon as Dana had disassembled the automated weapons system. "We don't have much time left before sunrise."

Hanaj didn't like the way things were going. As he was hauled to his feet, he caught sight of the downed body of his friend. "Why'd you shoot him?" he demanded.

"He was warned to put it down, and didn't." The Stagnorian growled as they started down the stairs. "I don't give two. Now shut up."

The Romulan took the warning and had little choice but to follow, sparing a last parting look at his comrade. He scowled as the bags were heaped on him but kept his mouth shut. If he was going to survive this, he'd have to play nice.

=========================================

(Dana/For'kel scene)

=========================================

The sun was just begining to climb into the sky of Romulus when they made it back to the underground tunnel network that had been serving as the nerve center for their operations as of late. He'd forgotten how many hours it had been since the battle started, and frankly he didn't care. For'kel was exhausted, and on top of that, he'd been wounded.

Why he decided it was a good idea to interrogate this man, he didn't know. He could have let anyone do it... hell he was half convinced he should turn him over to the Romulan interrogator they rescued earlier in the day... but he did want the kid alive, and preferably untortured.

He plopped down in a seat opposite of the Romulan boy, who in turn was tied down to his chair, and simply stared, folding his hands together.

Hanaj's shoulders and back ached from the burdened journey. Being tied down to a chair and stared at didn't help either. After a moment fruitlessly testing his bonds, he broke the oppressive silence. "I want some water."

"Welcome to the club." For'kel kept his gaze, burdened by weariness as it was, on the Romulan's eyes. "Where are they?"

"Ask nicely."

More, silent, displeased staring.

Hanaj squirmed under that gaze. "I can show you on a map."

For'kel offered a detailed map with all locations and gathered intelligence erased. No need to clue him in on exactly how much they did or didn't know.

Hanaj strained against his bonds to get a good look, hopping his chair forward, closer to the table. "Do I have to point with my nose?"

"No." For'kel muttered, and stuck a stylus inbetween his teeth.

Hanaj, mortified, glared at the man, his teeth bared as he stabbed down at three locations on the map.

The Colonel looked over his de-facto notations. "Those are the only locations you know?"

Hanaj shook his head, convinced his life depended on how useful he could be. He pointed again, this time taking more time to study the map and, in two instances, attempting to draw a circumference and indicate a relationship between locations.

"What are these two?" He pointed to the positions that seemed to be tied together, removing the stylus from the Romulan's mouth so he could speak.

He rotated his jaw slightly to loosen the muscles after gripping the stylus. "Part of their communications network. Intelligence gathering for while they're on the surface."

Although he hid it well, For'kel was salivating. If they could tap into that network, they would know everything the Hydrans did, and more importantly, be able to dictate what the Hydrans knew. "Defenses?"

"I only saw the exterior for this one," he bobbed his head in indication. "They take it seriously, but they didn't give me the details on numbers. They were in the process of putting up a blockade. Jammers were already in place to prevent transporter and sensor signals from getting through. They seemed to think they had something else up their sleeve, but I don't know what it was."

"All right." For'kel said calmly, almost as if disappointed in the information, pocketing the map. "Someone will bring you food and water in a few minutes."

Hanaj nodded and sat back. Some bone, he thought to himself.

"Unification"

Part Two

Featuring:

Ensign T'Ashaya

Senator tr'Khnialmnae

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

Somewhere near the capitol

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

They moved forward with purpose. That much was evident, though what the eight of them could possibly logically accomplish against the invading force, T'Ashaya didn't know. If they were eight highly trained operatives, she reasoned they might have some chance of doing something other than dying vain deaths.

They weren't, though.

T'Ashaya was a Vulcan surfer girl at heart and a marine biologist by training. Nothing in that mixture prepared her for anything of this nature. Her classical Vulcan training gave her some knowledge of the ancient arts of self-defense, as the discipline involved in the martial studies had some usefulness in fostering emotional self control, something her mother believed her daughter severely lacked.

Given her current choice of career, that training had proved useful to a degree. She'd managed to suprise more than one Starfleet self defense instructor with her skill with the nerve pinch.

It didn't seem likely she would have the opportunity to use her skills against the Hydrans. She hadn't been able to use them against Senator Aieme's guards, either. No, the Vulcan Tsunami feared her presence here with this group was nothing but detrimental to them.

"Senator," her voice hushed close to his ear. "Perhaps it would be beneficial if we were aware of what you are planning."

"As I mentioned before we set out, we are headed towards a location I know to be frequented by the Reunification movement of my people." He turned his head to look at her. "You DO know what I'm refering to, yes?"

"Yes, and that is why I am confused by this plan of action." T'Ashaya allowed the barest hint of exasperation into her voice. "It has been my understanding that the renunification movement has been peaceful and marked with pacifism, thus it seems highly illogical to adjourn to that location when it seems unlikely it will hold the supplies we need. Specifically, I am thinking of heavier weapons, as that seems the only viable solution to our current difficulties."

Aehkhifv tr'Khnialmnae nodded sagely. "That's only partially true. As a movement that has for the past decade been largely in disfavor with the majority of the politicians, both pre and post Shinzon, they have been surprisingly keen at keeping secret their locations, meethings, identities, and so forth. Even the Tal Shiar had dificulties and this was when they were at their strongest."

Curiosity piqued, the Vulcan Tsunami arced and eyebrow. "I find it interesting that you possess such information, Senator. Precisely how did you come about it?"

He smiled and indicated for the lead Praetorian to take the next left. "I've been absent from the Senate for some time now; my duties as a Senator are to the people I representate in council. I cannot in good conscience claim to speak for them if I do not know them. The decisions I make, the roads I travel, they are all weighted on the question of 'what will the people gain?' If they gain nothing it is of little worth. If it causes me to 'lose face,' before my fellow senators yet my people prosper from it, I am satisfied and my honor is thus properly served. I am truly a servant of the People.

"As for the specific place we're going, it probably won't have any weapons, or those that are present will be jealously guarded," the senator continues. "However, what it WILL have in plenty are the other supplies we'll need: food and water, a safe haven to rest as opposed to out in the open, and ample security; the Praetorians will assist with that aspect."

"But we will still need to obtain superior weapons if we indeed plan to do anything obtaining this safe haven you describe." She almost frowned. "Certainly others will have thought of your plan as well, others with less than idealistic goals. While your Praetorians may be excellent marksmen, these weapons have limited charge capability at this setting. How long do you expect us to hold out?"

"I did not say that was my entire plan, nor did I imply that that is all we will do. I cannot predict the future, therefore any plan that I enact will suffer change dependant upon new variables introduced to the equasion, as with anything done in life." He called a halt at this point, having found a temporary safe house for them to rest for a period of time. It was what looked to have been a storage building, situated behind a market. It had already been ransacked, but the amount of debris within would allow the group to remain visually concealed, yet maintain a reasonable amount of security. Once they were settled in, Aehkhifv continued their conversation. "Right now, everyone who isn't already in hiding is either dead, captured, or like

us, scurying around like rats. You said yourself the Reunification is a predominantly peacefull organization. However, there are other organizations friendly to us that aren't in the business of peace."

"Fascinating," she deadpanned. "Go on."

"I believe an update to your current events information is in order.

Some time after the incident with the planetary defence network, word arrived to the Senate: our Second Galae - Fleet - had been wiped out, with but a single survivor. After a request for assistance defencing ch'Rihan, should it come to that, Starfleet dispatched the USS Miranda and a small task force of about a dozen other starships here. A plan was formed, and preparations implimented, and during this time we recieved further updates: the Hydran fleet had completly walked through the third, fourth, and seventh's galae's, complete losses."

Aehkhifv paused, a moment of silence; many of his old friends had been aboard those fleets.

"I was aware that the Miranda was in orbit," T'Ashaya confirmed, settling on the ground to rest. "I am stationed to that vessel."

"Part of the battle plan incorporated a ground base defense of this city: the bulk of your marines deployed to the surface, and augmented by the city law enforcement and our own meager units of soldiers, prepared to fight it out here. It didn't take long: the Hydrans have air and numerical superiority, all friendly units have gone to ground.

Once we have made contact with the Reunification, we can begin to look for scattered units and soldiers, bring them together, and begin to develop a true Underground. However, such hoped are to far forward for me to make any reliable planning off of, hence the reason I have stated that we will attempt to reach the Reunification, and move from there."

She nodded slightly. "So it is certain we are cut off, then?"

"From off-world support, yes."

She cocked her head barely skyward, as if listening to something distant. "And is there any word that Miranda survived?"

"The starbeast had not yet arrived when last I recieved updates from the fleet battle. Our fleet was doing remarkably well, though the outcome is certain at this junction: either they retreated, or have been destroyed to a ship." He did not believe the latter to be true, but without empirical evidence, he could not say for sure one way or the other.

She nodded slightly again, but this time her hand clenched tightly into a fist. Her breathing became slow and deliberate. Logically speaking, it was the correct assumption, of course. Irrationally, she simply did not want to accept it. Her fist struck the ground with a dull thud. She struck the ground again, as if she could beat herself into accepting that fact.

"We should move," cold finality filled her voice, but her voice was not emotionless. "It is unlikely this place will remain safe long, is it not?"

"It will be safe enough for now," he returned, pointing to one of the praetorians. The soldier had been carying a backpack the entire time, and from this was produced a small device replete with Rihannsu scripting. After fiddling with the settings for a moment, the soldier nodded and settled down himself. Of the other 5, 2 were on guard, the rest settling down themselves. "Masking device. It's actually rather unique and a prototype I managed to wheedle out of our research facility a few days before the battle. Any sensor looking into our little corner of the city will see whatever we want them to see. Right now it's configured to show this area as being unoccupied."

The Vulcan woman shivvered. She had lost her jacket on Aieme's yacht and between the damp cell he had held her in, the inappropriateness of her current clothing, and the relative cold of the ch'Rihan twilight, she now had a chill. She did not complain of it, though. It was illogical to complain when little or nothing could be done about the situation. Instead, she set the disruptor she carried on the ground and wrapped her arms around herself to rub her sides, hoping to encourage circulation and thereby warmth.

She cocked her head to the side again, as if she heard something. The tip of her ear seemed to strain skyward to pick up the sound. She shivvered more strongly and her teeth chattered. She struggled to silence them, curling more tightly into herself to conserve heat and do so.

"True cloaking device or simply something to feed false readings to any nearby scanners?" she asked, attempting to distract herself from the chill.

"Simply a 'sensor spoofer.' If we had a holoprojector linked to it, we would be able to make the visual corespond with the sensors." It was at this time that he noted the vulcan's physical response to the temprature. "May I?" he inquired politely. He'd spent enough time with the Reunification movement to have been around a number of vulcans, and hence knew about their 'personal bubble.'

The Vulcan Tsunami remembered all too well what had happened the last time she had been touched. She had thrown Aieme overboard and any chance she had to study the cetaceans here on ch'Rihan. The last time she'd been touched by anyone before that, it had been Lieutenant K'aa, and according to Ensign Pharos she had thrown K'aa into the whale tanks, too. She discerned a pattern developing involving males and water. She gave an indication of ascent and steeled herself against the contact.

He sidled up to her left side, carefully wrapping his right arm around her, allowing his body heat to spread to her torso. Closing his eyes, the senator could feel a tingle at the base of his skull, someting unique he had come to recognize. "I have a small confession to make, T'Ashaya," he said after a few moments of regarding this tingle.

"Though we come from the same genetic history, the Rihannsu have largely neglected to develop their psionic heritage. As a result, only a precious few of us are born with such predispositions. I am one of them."

A wave of shame passed over the Vulcan woman. "Forgive me." She moved as if to move away. "I will maintain better control."

"There is no transgression to forgive," he said, allowing her to move as she wished. "I am simply more receptive to such methods of comunication than most members of my culture."

She moved away, but she was still cold so she did not move far. "I will maintain better control," T'Ashaya repeated. "It will not happen again."

"I need to rest," she admitted. "I have not been able to get adaquate rest for some time now. It is likely the reason my control is inadaquate." She considered that somehow this was all really Spa'an's fault, though she recognized that she could not adaquately explain that stance.

"Of the amenities available, little as they are," he spoke softly, "What do you feel you require at present in order to obtain sleep of a sufficiently restorative quality?"

"At present, just a blanket. I am exausted and should make use of the relative safety."

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

Aproximately an hour later found Aehkhifv still sitting there, his gaze resting upon the slumbering form of T'Ashaya, an emergency blnket wrapped about her. Many things he understood from having lived for more than a century, but never had he learned bout the matters of the heart. Verry rarely had another individual, much less someone not Rihannsu, moved him as much as she did. He pondered for a time the various possibilities open to them, but thinking beyond the next day or two was inefficient and at present a luxury he would not permit himself. Settling down under his own blanket, the senator soon found himself within the world of the dreams.

***Main Sickbay, USS Miranda***

"Joli." Gwen said a few hours later. "Your father is awake, we can go and see him now. But you must promise me that you will go to bed afterwards for a few hours.

Anjoli didn't respond right away, intent upon reading the reports of the battle.

"The Hydrans fired upon escape pods...." she said angrily. "They're undeserving of mercy.....shup'pahs, every last one of them.."

It was clear, especially to Gwen , that Anjoli was beyond exhaustion. Only her agitated and upset emotional state kept her from collapsing where she stood. Three continuous days of harrowing medical duty combined with the emotional turmoil of her parents plight had transformed the Arrin'Haleri into a basket case.

“Right.” Gwen said seeing that reasoning was no use any longer. It was time for firm action. “We are going home now, and you are going to bed. You can talk to your father later. Come on, on your feet.”

"You don't undestand. I have to find my mother. I have to know she's safe...or at least not suffering any more. How will I sleep, not knowing?"

Anjoli's rubbed her eyes and returned her attenton to the sensor logs.

“I will help you.” Resolute she pulled out the computer cable. “Others are looking for her. You need to be in surgery in about ten hours. So bed now!” The redhead ordered.

Anjoli sullenly looked at Gwen .

"You can't understand. I need my mother to be all right. You despise your mother, but I need mine!"

Gwendolyn did not get angry she understood her friends anger. "Yes, I dislike my mother. But if this was my father, sister or you I would be frantic as well. But you are not doing much good. You are too tired to search, people who do this for a living are searching for her. You are a surgeon, and very good surgeon, and we need you to keep people alive. That is why you must rest now, and do your job.." It was difficult, that she knew that with kindness she wouldn't get through right now. She had to do this for Joli.

With a petulant look, the emerald doctor threw the offending PADD against the far wall and stalked out of her office.

Understanding the anger, and even worse the powerlessness, Gwen just followed to see where her friend was going.

Anjoli signed herself off the computer display charting which doctors were on duty at the moment. She looked at Yeoman Teep , still working away at the problem Gwen had tasked him to perform.

"Get out of here, Teep. Go find your teddy bear and sleep....."

Gwen nodded at teep to stay behind the computer. “Joli…” She just said.

"What?!"

Anjoli bit off the nasty words she wanted to spew forth.

"Teep's been here just as long as me. He needs to take a break as badly as anyone..."

Teep cautiously raised his hand.

"Ummm....I've actually been to sleep. Twice."

Anjoli just let her hand sink into the palm of her hand.

“Everybody but you has been taking their breaks, doc. So off to bed with you, now.” Gwen tapped her foot.

Anjoli, shoulders slumped in total defeat, made her way out the door of sickbay.

Gwen followed. She did not see this as a victory and she would be there to put Joli to bed and to comfort her till she slept. She was due for a short break herself again.

The pair moved slowly towards the turbolift Once aboard, Anjoli just leaned her head back against the padded wall, and said nothing. The turbolift didn't budge until Gwen finally gave the order.

"Captain Summers is dead...." Anjoli said weakly. "I could have saved him, but the transporters were down."

"You can't save everybody." Gwen said softly. Strange, beforehand she would have thought she would be the one breaking down and needing a shoulder. "And you badly need some sleep to get a clear head again." She embraced her girlfriend.

Anjoli held on loosely to Gwen . Her head seemed full of steel wool and cotton.

She didn't say anything else until the pair arrived at their quarters..

"You weren't in the war, were you?" Anjoli asked.

“No, you know I wasn't. I am terrible with violence and blood.” Gwen stroked her bed as she led Joli to the bedroom.

"You did wonderfully during this fiasco....and this is but the beginning. A new war is upon us all, with new enemies and ways to render death and suffering."

Anjoli sat numbly on the bed and shook her head.

"And these Hydrans...using beasts from the very abyss of space itself....they are thrice cursed. May the Great Mother protect us all from such horrific leviathans."

“We will fight. It is what the federation has always done.” Gwen kissed her gently. “Now lay back, sweetheart, you need to get some sleep.”

Anjoli fell back onto the bed, her eyes staring upwards. Her voice trembled, and she didn't sound like herself at all. Even her accent was gone.

"There is a great darkness coming....and there shall be no dawn. Only the Time's champion and the mother with two lives can turn defeat into victory."

With that declaration, Anjoli fell completely limp. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft snore escaped her lips. Gwen was worried, for a long time she sat there watching Joli and gently stroking her hair. Then she covered the emerald woman up and got up to return to work.

"Khadamia...." came a soft voice in the darkness.

The Terran was surprised. “I thought you were sleeping, sweet.” Gwendolyn said returning softly and sitting down on the bed again.

"Can...you stay for a while? Please?"

“Sure, I am still on my break. I needed some rest as well.”

She lay down and took Joli in her arms. Anjoli sighed and curled around Gwen .

"I just need to remember the warmth of love....before the coming of shadows."

"You are just tired and a little bit depressed." Gwendolyn gently stroked her. "You will see that it looks different in the morning."

Anjoli nodded without answer, and in seconds was fast asleep once more. Gwen lay next to her for a while to make sure Joli was really asleep this time. Then she tiptoed out of the room and back to work.

"Father in law"

Captain Roberto Montoya

Anjoli D'Bari

Gwen Parri

Captain Roberto Montoya awoke in a sickbay. He'd seen enough of them in his career, and they all looked alike on the most basic level. Beds with sick people, worried caregivers hovering nearby, and the strong smell of antiseptic.

He reached up to touch his face, and was gratified to feel the new skin over the bubbled burn he's gotten during the battle with the Hydrans. The memories of the last battle of the late great USS Agamemnon came rushing back to him. So many of his crew perished, and so quickly too.

He remembered his wife's face, frightened and screaming in the what was left of the Agamemnon's bridge in those last seconds in the battle against he Hydran leviathan. He didn't know her fate. In all truth, he might never know for certain. But in his heart of hearts, she had to be alive. She had to be.

"How are you feeling, sir?" Every time she had a break Gwendolyn either ate and slept, or she came to see how Captain Montoya was doing. Because of the pain they had kept him sedated for a long time.

"A little woosy, thank you for asking."

His hand gingerly touched his ribs. The splintered ribs and collapsed lung had been repaired by the Miranda medical team, but there would be days to recover. The skull fracture would take as long to heal.

"I'm breathing better now....is there any word about my crew?"

“I am afraid I can't give you much good news sir. Everything is so chaotic that we can't be sure. You were the only one picked up by our ship. There might be others we don't know that escaped.” She took his hand again and squeezed. “We are looking.”

Roberto nodded, giving her a grateful look. He tried not to think of his comrades and wife of being in hostile hands.

"Starfleet has a lot on it's plate. If there are survivors, they'll be found given enough time."

“yes they will. It will be given high priority, believe me.” She smiled at him.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk, Gwen ? I know you must be busy...."

“I have time, sir. I am on a break period. And it isn't as frantic here as it used to be. I am all here for you.”

Motoya pointed towards a chair.

"Then have a seat, please. Now...Anjoli....how is she handling this? She was a resilent young girl...but I also know that doctors in a war zone can pay a steep price."

Gwen knew she had to be honest to him. “Not very, sir. She is taking it very badly, but I am keeping an eye on her. She is a bit depressed, don't worry I will look after both of you.” She gave him some water to sip.

Roberto took the offered water, but clearly his mind was elsewhere.

"I won't be a burden for long. After Starfleet's board of inquiry, I'll be reassigned. I was the Captain of the Agamemnon for over twenty years. I know Starfleet won't waste any officer worth a damn with a war on...but it won't ever be the same."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thoughts of his lost comrades.

"The Agamemnon....was a special ship. A lot of the crew had been with me for many years. Some were even children of former crew that had served with me long ago."

She held his hand. “I know.” Gwen whispered. “Don't rush into anything sir.

Give yourself time to heal, and talk to someone.”

Roberto nodded.

"Time is a luxury we no longer have, Gwen . The Hydrans could be within forty light years of Terra in days, and if we cannot do a better job against the Starbeast....Earth may be the next to fall."

“Then talk to me now if you have the strength.” She told him. “I am still a psychologist.”

Roberto gave her a pained smile.

"I'll be all right, Gwen .  I've been captain for a long time. This isn't the first time I've taken a hit or two."

“But you lost a lot of people dear to you. And we don't know about your wife yet.” She said gently, watching his reaction.

" Gwen ...I've served in Starfleet for nearly forty years, thirty as Captain. I've seen more wars than I care to think about right now. I've lost friends and family before this."

His face is calm despite the grief in his eyes. However, there's no agonizing pain keeping him from getting up and serving aboard a ship. 

She held his hand. “Really? You are taking this better then Joli, sir.”

"You will understand in time, Gwen . Anasta and I have been bonded for so long, she will always be a part of me. Even if the worst comes to be, and she is lost forever, she will literally be a part of me for the rest of my days."

His finger tapped the bloodgold ring on Gwen 's hand.

"Now that Anjoli's taken this step....you'll know for certain. If you part, you will long for her...but she will also be *with* you. It's difficult to explain. It must be experienced to truly understand."

Gwen blushed. “You noticed. We were going to tell you soon…. We want to marry, sir.”

He smiled wistfully, his own eyes going to his own ring.

"Anasta knew you were the one, after our initial meeting. She could see it in Anjoli's eyes. It took me a few more days of talking with you. It was clear that there was more to your relationship than a casual fling."

Gwendolyn swallowed hard.  “I thought she didn't like me at all at first.  I thought you were the one who liked me from the start, sir."

Roberto chuckled half heartedly.

"Anasta wears her emotions on her sleeve, Gwen . She might have known Anjoli was in love with you, but Arrin'Haleri mothers can be....overprotective."

“That I notice. We didn't have the best of starts.” She could not help but laugh at the memory.

"So you approve?”

Roberto gave her hand a squeeze and a reassuring smile.

"Absolutely. But...my blessing is not as important as Anasta's. Let's hope you get the chance to ask her."

“Yes, I would like that very much. Her approval is very important to me and to Joli.”

"Papa?" came a quiet voice from the doorway.

Anjoli stood there, a mask of a calm smile over her face. She walked closer and took her father's free hand on the other side of Gwen .

"I see you've been getting reacquainted with Gwen ....."

“I have been taking care of him as his doctor.” Gwen said smiling at both of them. “Your dad is doing very well.”

"Then I know you have the best of care....."

Roberto gave his daughter's hand a squeeze.

"Kermit....she'll be fine," clearly meaning Anjoli's missing mother.

With the sound of her father's childhood nickname for her, Anjoli's fragile mask of calm began to splinter. She covered her mouth to keep from crying.

Roberto tried to reassure his daughter, when his own feelings were nearly as

fragile.

"You mother in the hands of the Great Mother...you know that. Have faith, Anjoli."

Anjoli nodded, but it offered little comfort at the moment.

Gwen couldn't look at it without acting. She embraced her friend gently.

“She is so loved, sweet, she can't be gone.”

"This is a test...of my faith." Anjoli said softly. "I must be strong for her. It's tbe only way to keep her safe...."

The Welshwoman squeezed her shoulders. Anything to keep Joli going. “Hon, I think your dad needs to rest now.”

Anjoli nodded and turned away from her father for the moment. She looked back at the door and gave him a shaky smile.

"You need anything, ask. I've got a few connections on this tub..."

Roberto smiled softly, giving her a wink.

"That's my girl...."

Gwen watched her go and came to her feet herself. “She will be fine, dad.”

She said softly.

Roberto nodded, his hand rubbing his jaw.

"We all have work to do. She'll get her share done, rest assured."

“I am more worried that she will do too much. I have had to made her rest already.  Like all doctors in times of need she has difficulty looking after herself.”

"And you've been elected her tender, eh?" Roberto nodded. "Well...she's always tried to make up for lost time. I hope you have more success at slowing her down than others have."

“I did get her to rest yesterday. None of her staff could get her to listen.

I just worry so much about her when she gets like that, depressed and so tired.” Gwen stared off into nothing. “I love her so much.”

Roberto touched her forearm.

"Don't coddle her too much. She's strong, don't misunderstand, but she's a chief now. She has to learn we all have limits--even her."

“But…. I …… I want to protect her, sir. She might be a chief but she needs someone.”

"That's fine...behind closed doors. But she needs to learn to lead effectively. She can't do that if you're coddling her. She might screw up, true....but short of having her injure someone or herself, you need to let her fail. Otherwise she'll rely upon you too much. Then...when you might be gone, she would truly be in dire straights."

“I will try.” She sighed. “I should get back to work, is there anything I can get you?”

"Yes. You get some rest, and when you return I'll tell you a story about Anjoli. You think she is a handful now, just you wait. She's mellowed."

"I will hold you to that, sir." Gwen grinned kissed him on the forehead and left.

"Straight to work"

(Brevet) Cpt. Brian Elessidil

CO, USS Exeter

Lt SG Gwen Parri, Acting CMO USS Exeter

After finish up his conversation with Miramon, Brian made a point of making the rounds in sickbay to personally check on some of the more badly injured crew. There were far more than he'd hoped, or maybe it just seemed that way because they were all in one area. Either way, it was clear the medical staff had a lot to handle.

The new captain was a little concerned about the Exeter's CMO. Dr.

Panin, a fellow Betazoid, was clearly competent, something that was immediately apparent from speaking with him. What concerned Brian was the obvious severity of the injuries the doctor himself had taken during the battle. From what he'd learned, the doctor was near one of the primary power relays nearest sickbay when it was blown by Hydran fighter fire. Consequently, Panin had received cuts and abrasions from flying debris -- some of which appeared quite serious from Elessidil's non-medical perspective -- as well as some obviously serious electrical burns along one side of his body. Still, understanding the Exeter's situation, the doctor had set aside his own needs to tend to those who in his opinion were far worse off. For now, Brian decided not to question his decision.

Gwen had intended to go the bridge to report to the new captain, but a crewman had told her the bridge was badly damaged and the captain was making his rounds anyway and could now be found in sickbay. It suited her well as that was where she would be working anyway.

She recognised him from pictures. Gwen knew that Brian had been a councilor of the Miranda once. So she approached him.

"Captain, Lieutenant Parri reporting for duty."

Brian had just finished speaking with one of the attending medics and turned to respond to the voice. Parri . . . he had to think for a moment; with the swirl of names of the Exeter's crew and other officers in the fleet going through his head, it took him a moment to recall that she was the officer the Miranda promised to send over.

She was a medically trained counselor, a combination of skills that he could really use around here.

"Thank you for agreeing to lend a hand, Lieutenant. As you can see, we really need it," he said, gesturing slightly around the room. The Exeter's medical staff have been going non-stop since we left Romulus."

"Right... captain. Tell me where you need me. You may know you can use me in medical or counseling, or both," she said firmly.

"For now, I think your medical skills are what we have the greater need for. But specifically where wouldn't be my-"

Just as Brian was about to explain that it would be Dr. Panin's call as to where he'd want to use Gwen, he was interrupted by a commotion across the room. Several medics were gathered in a clump, a couple scurrying for supplies.

"Captain," one of them called out, "It's Doctor Panin. He just collapsed."

It was not the kind of news Brian needed to hear right now. He dashed over to where Panin had fallen.

"He's alive," one of the medics reported as he waved a medical tricorder over the doctor. "But he's dehydrated and...it looks like he's suffering from some sort of toxic shock to his system. Probably an allergic reaction to something that hit him and got into his bloodstream when that relay blew."

Seeing the hesitation of the very tired staff Gwen sprang into action immediately, she had been doing triage work the last couple of days and taking charge was what she was used at right now.

"Right, people. Let's get him on a bed. Nurse started an IV with saline.

"She looked at one of the technicians. "What was in the pipes when they blew?" She helped while the other nurses get the CMO's uniform off and making him more comfortable.

Elessidil was already impressed with the lieutenant's performance. He stepped back out of the way to let the medical professionals to their job.

"It was a power relay," one of the medics replied. "He suffered mostly plasma burns and a few serious cuts from pieces of the casing."

"Probably some of the system coolant got into his bloodstream,"

another added. "It's know to be toxic in many cases."

"Right let's make sure that we get it out of his system now!" She ordered the nurses to administer the antidote quickly hoping to save the CMO's life.

Right now he was in a very bad way.

Seeing that the team had the situation under control, Brian called Gwen over to him. "Lieutenant, that was well done. We can't afford to lose another experienced officer, so I'd like you to take charge of things in sickbay for now and keep an especially close watch on the doctor." It was good to know that the Miranda still had some fine officers in its crew.

Gwen looked surprised, but pleased as well. She liked a shot at command even if it was not the department she thought it would be happening. "Right sir.

You can count on me. I will do my best to get your CMO back on his feet."

"Thank you," Elessidil answered, smiling slightly. "We will likely have a senior staff meeting sometime in the next several hours.

Please attend." With that, Brian turned and left sickbay in the Lieutenant's capable hands and moved on to his next challenge.

"Should I go or should I stay"

Anjoli

Gwen

"You sure you don't mind?” Gwen asked uncertain. “I mean I could still back out and stay here.” She looked worried.  The Exeter needed people and she wanted to help there but she felt bad about leaving Joli like this.

Anjoli shook her head quickly.

"You're doing the right thing. The Exeter needs you. Remember...the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or does it go the other way? I can't remember."

“And yet I feel bad. I feel like I am doing this for my career and not for you..” She turned and embraced Joli. “tell me to stay.”

Anjoli softly cupped Gwen 's cheek, her dark eyes gleaming.

"I want you to stay."

Her finger softly traced Gwen 's lips, as if trying to memorize their perfection.

"But you need to go. Your career means nothing to me at the moment. Frankly, no one's career matters right now. But the people on that ship need the best doctor they can have. And that's you, Khadamia."

“It isn't, I am a psychologist first and you know it. And you need someone to look after you right now, sweet.” She was seriously doubting her spontaneous decision to go.

"You're the best candidate. I wouldn't allow it otherwise. Star and Ben have dependent children aboard the Miranda. Katara's part of the Hazard Team, Tymm and Ventar are needed for surgery aboard the Miranda....."

"And let's face it. You're too well rounded and useful. You can act as both counselor and physician....and when space is at a premium, one person that can do two jobs is as valuable as latinum."

“Are you absolutely sure.” Gwen looked at her. “Promise me that you will not do anything stupid while I am away?”

"Me? Do something stupid? Perish the thought."

Anjoli gazed into Gwen 's eyes.

"That doesn't mean I won't miss you. You just remember to keep that sweet bottom of yours under a desk when things get rough."

Gwen grinned. “we will talk every day, yes? And I will give Teep strict orders to look after you.”

"You leave my yeoman alone. He's mine to break, not yours. Besides, you make it sound like I'm terribly fragile. I'll be surrounded by this big starbase with warp engines. I'll be fine. Trust me. And yes, I'll comm you every day...I might even make a special private message for you if you're a good little Terran."

Gwen hugged her again. Joli had been so depressed lately and then the situation with her mum. She hated having to leave. “Call me any time when you need to, allright, love? Promise me.”

"I promise. I'll eat all my vegetables and wash behind my ears and change my underwear--at least when I wear it, I'll be sure they're clean. But I want you to do the same. Remember what Arel taught you, and get the frack out of the way if something shoots at you."

“I will. I will just keep my nose down, and help their CMO just like am helping you.  Or maybe they will put me in counselling.  And will see and I will be careful.”  She kissed Joli.

Anjoli warmly kissed Gwen , knowing it could be a very long time before then would again. Anjoli held onto Gwen with both arms and put all of her feelings into that one kiss. As usual they ended on the floor forgetting about all else around them for a while.

"Hope you were done packing...."Anjoli murmured.

"Elemental"

Aerv Laehval tr'Ahalaen
Romulan Ambassador

Elissa Skylark
Science Ensign

= The Fire Temple =

= Romulus =

Once, long ago, this place had a name.

Once, in these ruins, the Rihan had worshiped the Elements.

Once, in this forgotten valley, this desolate site had been a place of hope.

Where there had once been thousands, however, there was now only one. A dark, lonely figure among broken columns, dripping wet in the brutal rain that reigned over Romulus this day. Why did he wander here, so far from the camps of the other civilians, all fleeing from the Hydrans while the warriors among them stood and fought and died? There was nothing remaining of the old days in the prayer hall. There were no images, no statutes, no icons spared by the ravishing gaze of time and the cruel touch of the very Elements that had once been worshipped here.

And yet, Aerv Laehval tr'Ahalaen, felt that if there was any kind of divine being, any source of life greater than himself, then it was here, in this place, now. Why he felt sentience in the merciless rain, in the furious wind, in the grim tempest, he could not say...but he smiled at the rage of his world, and he recognized in that rage something of himself, yet larger, untamed.... Perhaps it was only his imagination...he had, after all, always been accused of being too steeped in the Ways of Old.

tr'Ahalaen, however, did not pray or beg or scream out accusations. He stood still, the raging elements swirling about him, and was silent.

He knew that if he spoke here, his voice would be a whisper fierce with the rage of the innocent. And he wanted to speak. He wanted to know what his people had done wrong, to have their liberty, their pride, wretched from them in this manner. He wanted to speak, because despite the fact that he had never knelt in prayer, despite the fact that he was faithlessness, a small part of him still believed. Would always believe.

Quiet.

For the first time in the history of this ancient place, the Rihannsu said nothing and the Elements spoke.

Aerv wanted to scream a heartrending scream that would echo through the deserted temple for an eternity and more. He wanted to challenge the thick, tangible air of this place, to shatter its serenity. He wanted to declare himself again, to let the universe know that he was here, to let this world feel that it's son felt the rage it felt. He wanted to be at one with the Elements.

Yet that was not his nature. Aerv tr'Ahalaen had never yelled his throat dry and raw. He had made a life out of cultivating culture, out of being more than the primal darkness that had always dwelt deep within him, a taint on his soul. And now, though his world had fallen and lay broken, though he had been forced from his home and was an exile on his own land, he remained true to himself.

So he stood before the gods of his people, his silence eloquent and beautiful.

In this clamoring peace, Aerv thought he felt something, like the eye of the world was upon him. Perhaps because of the nature of this place, he could not ignore that feeling and he looked back, and found indeed that he was not alone. A woman with sapphire eyes was behind him, her golden hair drenched in the downpour.

"Who?" Aerv asked, turning around, his voice hoarse. When the woman stepped forward, her movements fluid and graceful, he smiled, "Ah...Faith. You have come to find me."

Her gaze betrayed a moment of surprise, and she stopped, and her eyes fell. Standing and staring at the strewn rubble as if he was nothing more than a lone pillar in the temple, her voice cracked. "I don't know this place..."

"Neither do I...but that is because this place no longer knows itself."

His voice focused her for a brief moment, and she crossed her arms, hugging her chest tightly. She was wearing a Starfleet uniform, but the jacket was gone, along with her communication badge. A surge of panic contorted her face as she shot looks one way and the other. "I don't... this place. I don't know. Oh God..." she crouched close to the ground, still clutching herself tightly, and he recognized in those sapphire eyes the weight of memory.

tr'Ahalaen had seen such faces, such eyes before. He knelt beside her, the first Rihana to do so on this ground for a long time. Mysticism no longer interested him, however, this moment now was about Faith.

He spoke, his voice gentle but firm, searching for that place in this woman's mind where years of military training had programmed a condition response. Those were the kinds of flimsy structures people drew comfort from during war. "Report, Ensign Skylark."

She stared through him, and then at him. Head still at an angle, she studied him with ocean blue eyes unblinkingly. When she finally did, a look of reprisal settled onto her face. "You're Romulan."

"Yes," he gave her one of those famous, charming smiles of his, "Quintessentially, in fact."

"What are you doing here?" she asked insistently. "This place is a ruin. It's dangerous. They could be through here at any moment. We have to move." She stood up and looked around, expecting to see danger

all around. Wiping the water from her eyes and studying the

surrounding land, she took a few bold steps toward the perimeter, then awkwardly circled back. "Do you, uh..." she stopped and look looked at him apologetically, "know which way to go?"

His obsidian eyes studied her intently for a moment, then he nodded.

"Yes - well, actually, I suppose it depends on where you want to go.

There is a camp of civilian refugees...."

"Let's go there," she interrupted.

"However," tr'Ahalaen continued smoothly, as if he had not been interrupted, "In these conditions, in the darkness, the path to it has probably become impassable."

"Probably?"

"Ah...a poor choice of words on my part.... Until the new dawn, we should look for some kind of shelter." He paused, and when she said nothing he cleared his throat, "I am open to suggestions on the matter."

Skylark frowned at him, shifting her weight nervously and scanning the area with wide unblinking eyes. "What insight are you expecting from me? You're the native." She stopped and looked back at him. "Sorry.

That came out wrong."

"The truth often does," tr'Ahalaen replied with a quick smile, "I am afraid that I had not anticipated this rain. The weather systems must be...malfunctioning." He shook his head, "This will not do, of course.

While our situation is wonderfully barbaric, it is also quite uncomfortable."

She looked him over. "You look like a man of influence and skill.

Which is unfortunate..."

Aerv raised an eyebrow at her in askance. A gesture that - like all Vulcan gestures - he rather enjoyed using.

The woman shrugged helplessly, offering a modest smile. "I'm a poor judge of character."

It was one of those typically human remarks that tr'Ahalaen had never quite gotten used to. Humans, for a species that had no telepathic abilities, had the annoying habit of believing that everyone around them understood the context or meaning of their comments without any elaboration at all. It often left the more intelligent creatures of the galaxy, in his opinion, wondering what exactly the Terrans were babbling about.

The silence that followed, however, gave him a moment to think. The temple was truly and firmly within the wilderness. The rites here must have involved some kind of journey to this place for the worshipers.

From how far away did his ancestors walk to kneel before the Elements and be blessed by the priests....

tr'Ahalaen suddenly laughed softly. "But of course...the priests and holy men who lived here, they must have had some home. Come, my dear, it is time we become pilgrims, you and I."

= Fire Temple Catacombs =

= Romulus =

Somewhere, deep underground, a narrow tunnel gave way to a larger space.

The two strangers cautiously stepped through the threshold, and Aerv examined grooves in the wall that had held torches for his more ascetic ancestors. The Starfleet ensign looked to each side, then waved her palm over a panel just inside the room. A soft ambient light slowly encompassed the width of the room, chasing away the shadows.

"Incredible," tr'Ahalaen whispered, shaking his head at dim, flickering lights that had come to life around them. He was not referring, of course, to the damp, cold stone walls of the place, or the dirty, tattered remains of what once might have been sleeping rugs and pottery on the ground. These were, after all, the dwelling halls of hermits.

What was incredible, of course, was the fact that any man made devices - such as the lights - had survived the decayed grasp of time.

"Smells like home," the young woman said, with no trace of sarcasm in her voice. She stepped over a jutting stone and crossed the room to carefully push up a torn wall-hanging with ancient Rihannsu characters displayed on it. She let out a breath. "How old is this place?"

"Old enough to have memories," Aerv replied, pulling a disruptor out from inside his black tunic, "And to have lost them." He paused to examine the weapon, made some adjustments, and looked up at the slender human woman again. "Anyway... the past is prologue, as you humans say... right now, however, I would suggest that you strip."

Skylark studied the tapestry for another moment, then acknowledged him with a faint "right," and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back and out of the way. She stepped around the corner and began to peel off the wet uniform. "I suggest you avoid warming up the rock along the walls. It's porous."

Aerv regarded his weapon suspiciously, "And that means...."

"Disruptors and concentrated pockets of gas do not mix well."

"Brilliant," tr'Ahalaen sighed, dropping his weapon to the ground. For a moment, he paused and watched Elissa's beautiful shadow on the far wall as she undressed herself.

With a shake of his head, he began to take off his own tunic, and then stopped. He was always uncomfortable exposing his scars - so many scars

- to women. Many of them did not understand why a man so obsessed with beauty would harbor such faults, when they were so easily corrected.

Still, though he knew Elissa Skylark, she did not know him. So there would be no questions, no desperate search for answers he did not have....

A bundle of wet clothes landed next to the weapon. "Could you?" asked her disembodied voice.

Aerv blinked, confused, and stared at the discarded clothing. "Could I?"

"The ground is fine. Warm up the ground and dry my clothes. I don't really want to stand naked in the shadows any longer than is absolutely necessary."

Aerv laughed softly, "Do you realize who I am? Dry your clothes? How ridiculous. Besides, that would take all night. I am carrying a Type Three Disruptor."

The darkness sighed. She peered around the corner. "That was pretty poor foresight. Oh." Modesty wasn't a trait the two of them shared, and even she forgot herself when taking in the shape of his well-toned musculature. She noticed the scars just visible where his tunic parted, and couldn't bring herself to look away.

"Given that this is a war, a weapon with a stun setting seemed... like a waste." His dark eyes caught her blue gaze and held it for a moment, "Unless you are hideously deformed in some unexpected way, I would urge you to come out."

"I'm naked."

"And?"

Her head disappeared behind the wall again. "And I'm naked."

"Are you scared of me?"

"Remember when I told you I was a poor judge of character?"

tr'Ahalaen laughed, "My dear... let me assure you, I am above that kind of... violence. I worship beauty, I do not make it weep. And you - you of all people, Elissa, have nothing to fear from me."

"No, see, the problem is I feel like I can trust you."

"Ah... well, in that case, I am an absolute villain. A scoundrel, if you will, who cannot be trusted. Is that better?"

"Let me put it this way: I feel like I can trust you. But there are two problems." A hand appeared with her index finger pointing up.

"One, the person I'm inclined to trust is a Romulan dignitary." A second finger raised. "Two, he's a man." Another finger. "Three, we're both naked." All but one now. "Four, the most logical means to avoid hypothermia involves a certain level of intimacy that, in our present state, could lead to all sorts of poor judgments."

"Who am I to argue with logic?" tr'Ahalaen replied with a wry smile.

There was a silence that felt longer than it actually was, after which Aerv began to speak, his voice now ringing with that quiet intensity that was unique to him, like the sound of many waters.

"You know... I saw you once before - there was some kind of conference near the Typhon Sector. It must have been... seven years ago." He stopped and sighed, forlorn, "Seven years - they can last a life time...

especially if you are Vulcan.... I was so young, trapped by duty, bound to the military, taking orders for the first time in my life. Whatever little freedom I had previously enjoyed in my life was taken from me.

"And then I saw you... this sylph of a human girl, with golden hair and... the, may I just say, the most amazing clavicle - and a gentle laugh, along with this passionate mind, that was set on these incredible ideas that were - I must admit - a little beyond me. I heard you present a paper with some old human at your side, and I thought...

'Elements, I must have her. I must be her - for this girl, she is truly free.' And then I learned your name, and I understood... after all, 'you can muffle the drum, and you can loose the strings of the lyre, but who will command the skylark not to sing?'"

tr'Ahalaen leaned back against a wall and allowed his legs to fold underneath him, "And the beautiful thing was, you knew nothing of this - nothing even of your freedom, or your beauty - you just *were*. How I envied you. And the years went by, and of course, I never saw you again

- but whenever I felt the bonds of this world force me onto paths that were not my choice, I thought always of the skylark."

"And now my world has fallen, and hope is fading... and, when for the first time in my life, I stood before the gods, and wondered how this had happened, what I should do, what I should think, who I was to be. I heard no answers. I felt a great darkness upon me... and then," he laughed softly, "You were there. Faith... you and I, here this night...

it is the culmination of a beautiful pattern, you see? It is a holy thing, this is the soul of the universe - and though I might desire it, I will take from it nothing more than is given freely, for it has proven itself generous."

She didn't say anything at first, and all that could be heard were the distant howls of the winds on the surface. When she stepped out from the corner, her arms covered her still, clinging to her modesty.

"Five," she finally said, "creepy stalker talk." The words were irreverent, but her tone was no longer guarded. She crouched in front of him and carefully grabbed her clothes, holding them while studying him. "I was going to ask how you knew my name, but I thought the answer would be more... I don't know... sinister?"

tr'Ahalaen made no secret of the fact that his eyes were drinking in her form, but despite the beauty before him, the words caught his attention enough to make him laugh. "Very sorry to have disappointed you."

Elissa smiled, her face flush; she was no longer hiding the emotions

that had been playing in her eyes. "You haven't." She looked away,

toward the far wall. Then, suddenly, her eyes brightened. "Igneous!"

"What?"

Skylark looked at him flatly. "You know. Basalt, pumice, dacite, granite. Over there," she nodded with her head and clung to the damp uniform. "I'm not pointing."

tr'Ahalaen rose to his feet. "Volcanic rocks?"

She nodded. "How far does this place extend?

tr'Ahalaen shrugged, "I have no idea - I have never been here before."

"Where there are volcanoes, even dormant ones, there are heat vents,"

she explained, standing slowly to keep herself covered.

"Indeed? Perhaps then we should explore this place further," Aerv knelt to pick up his weapon, and looked back at her over his shoulder, "I do not suppose you would be interested in leading the way."

She shook her head and gave him an admonishing look. "Let the sacrifices I make in the name of science not be forgotten." Her gaze leveled sharply at him. "Or repeated to another living soul." Turning, she marched into the caverns.

tr'Ahalaen stood watching, quite happy to enjoy the view as she walked away from him. Before he began to follow her gently swaying hips further into the unknown, however, he looked up at the ceiling as if it represented the heavens, "I...wh...you.... You know...never mind," he told the Elements, "We can talk later."

= End Log =

"Duty and Honor"

By

Senator tr'Khnialmnae,
Rihannsu Senator-at-Large

Kylar Curran,
Chief Liaison Officer,
USS Galaxy

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

3 Days Before Zero Hour

Ra'tleihfi, ch'Rihan

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

Duty is an intriguing creature, Senator tr'Khnialmnae mused as he strode through the medical complex. He had direct authorization, the mouth of no less, from both the Praetor and the Empress, to request further assistance of any and all measures from the Federation, yet somehow he had been stalled. There were those within both divisions of the Senate, that is to say those who hadn't run like cowards, that felt his time wouls be better spent furthering their own aims. The Empire itself, not to mention their very home was facing impending doom and they still bickered and squabbled amongst themselves. They had twisted their sense of duty towards the wrong ends, and thus the Elements had decreed that the Empire was to be humbled, if not destroyed.

Making a left, the Senator spied the individual he had been trying to meet with since he had publicly resumed his rightful place within the Senate. Kylar Curran, a Kelvan. Currently acting as official representative of the United Federation of Planets, despite a dispute internal to his race which stemmed from his current physical infirmity. "Jolan'tru, Kiitha Curran. I apologize for the delay in our meeting with each other. It is unfortunate that even though our world is on the brink of falling from the heavens there are still those of my fellow Senators who would see to their own personal safety or gain, though at times I cannot fault them for it."

Looking up from his place, but not standing, from an open cubicle facing the entryway to the library/lounge, he took stock of the owner of the voice who called him by name using a courtesy the diplomat longer enjoyed amongst the Federation military arm of Starfleet. Vice-Legate Curran lay down the PADD he had been musing over since being granted access to external information sources. The media on ch'Rihan was as usual being quite efficient at reporting happenings that were coming fast and furious almost hourly, even if disjointed. Curran firmly believed the government had lost control of the propaganda machines and couldn't keep its intelligence and internal reportings segregated from the public any longer. He also believed much of the information coming through the news outlets, the Senate wasn't even aware of. The Tal Shiar must certainly be scrambling to recover. The new RNI would be enjoying the inevitable discrediting the former would be experiencing now.

"Jolan'tru, Senator," Curran admired the other's audacity at announcing his position and status in a world that must be about to turn on its leaders - mostly for abandoning them to the barbarians about to come tear away all that they knew. For not even making any attempt at relocating them. Anger and resentment would overcome the logic of no longer having any large scale colny transports ships available after all; they aren't Vulcans.

"I hadn't expected a Senator of your senior status, since most have left the planet already. I do not know you, though. Were you recently promoted?"

Aehkhifv Donar tr'Khnialmnae shook his head negatively. "No, though many of those still remaining would rather I had not become a Senator at all. I've been more than preoccupied with more pressing affairs of state than the trivvial squabblings of the politica body that is the Senate. They do some good when it serves their purpose, which is why I am here, and not any of them."

"I hope you didn't experience any troubles on your way here. The crowds are rather restless out on the streets. Many are leaving the city for the hills." He shook his head. "There will be nowhere safe on this planet, I'm afraid."

*Your words speak of a truth you do not yet know of,* Aehkhifv though as he allowed the kelvan to continue.

"I had taken the liberty of coming to you, but the remnants of the Senate had little time for me. The debating and politicking over trivial matters took precedence to my representation, and none would present me with your itinerary or schedule of appearances."

Aehkhifv chortled merrily. "That's because I don't have any such Itinerary. Though many Senators claim that their work is for the people they represent, very few can uphold such a claim, and seldom is such evidence honest and truth." The aged Rihannsu pulled up and empty chair and slowly lowered himself down into it. "I have been absent of the political bickering and infighting of the Senate for the past decade, working personally with those that I represent in Council. The propaganda machine has seen to it that my works have gone largely unnoticed, a fact that I have seen as a blessing: publicity is not always a good thing.

"But I digress. Though you have been petitioning to be heard by the Senate, I'm afraid the tables have been turned quite suddenly. No doubt you have taken note of the sudden lack of control in the output of the Media, and correctly deduced that the government no longer has the grip on her people that it once held. The 2nd Galae was destroyed recently, as have the third, fourth, and seventh Galae's. The Hydran fleet is on a direct path for this system, and the populace has found out, hence the current state of public affairs. I have been directed by Praetor Hitan AND Empress t'Vriesu to request any further aid from the Federation as is possible." Aehkhifv looked Curran in the eyes.

"Any other Senator would have died before making such a request; even the Doves that haven't run feel the same way. Such is the gravity of our current situation that even with venerable officers such as M'Kantu and Summers and their respected crews at our sides, there is little hope for success within the Rihannsu Senate."

The Kelvan tapped his fingers against the side of the desk. For a Rihannsu to come out so bluntly spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation, and confirmed to him that what he was being told was either out of necessity by a government who would continue to put on a brave face by skirting in dark alleys to attend to their needs, or this tr'Khellian was taking on the responsibility on his own.

Either way, the government still came out looking credible, and this Senator would either be a scapegoat for failure, or swiftly forgotten when it came time to assuming credit for victory.

"I take it the Senate does not want our discussion and settlements a matter of public record, do they?"

"This is an official request," Aehkhifv returned without missing a beat, "for any and all aid possible from the Federation. We aren't interested in terms, information exchanges, prisoner exchanges. We are standing at the brink of the forseable death of our civilization and our way of life. That is paramount above all other concerns.

What happens after this crisis is resolved," he shook his head. "I believe that would be best left for when such concerns are no longer premature."

*****

Present Day,
VIP Observation Lounge,
IRV Llaiir Jorrah,
23 veraku out from ch'Rihan

Kylar Curran thought back to the conversation he'd had with tr'Khellian so long ago on the former jewel of the Empire, rubbing his bruised chin with one hand, tucking the other underneath the crook of the former.

They'd escaped ch'Rihan with the majority of the remaining Senate approximately one Earth day previous, barely escaping as the encroaching Hydrans had blanketed the planet with the might of their forces. Donatra's ship had been engaged in combat operations so she had not been able to take on the passengers, though she'd made preparations in advance to secure passage for the Llaiir Jorrah - the Praetor's personal Warbird - by laying out cloaked mines along the path of the escape trajectory, and providing coverage as it burned out of the planet's gravity well and into warp dangerously close to ch'Rihan. Not that it mattered; the planet was lost.

Scorching the Earth as they left and depriving the Hydrans of at least a portion of the planet's resources was a minor price to pay. The souls lost when the atmosphere was ripped into subspace and the vacuum that filled the remains with turmoil and desolation was something that sickened the Kelvan to a degree, but necessary and he knew it.

It was a much more humane method of ending their lives with dignity than as slaves, experiments, or pets of the Hydran Sovereignty.

Still, he felt he had desecrated all that remained of his own dignity by leaving the planet when he was honor-bound to stay, and the battle that raged in planetary orbit. Now, he stared out an aft window, hoping in a small way that a Hydran battlecruiser would drop out of warp and engage them in battle.

But it didn't happen. A full day's travel, and nothing had pursued.

Donatra's sacrifices had done their duty. As he should have on Romulus.

He wondered if he had done what the Senate had asked of him. Was it enough?

Would he be welcome in whatever territory the Rihannsu called home after this failure? Or would he be the scapegoat with tr'Khellian?

“BLACKHAWK DOWN”

With Ensign Soval, Interrogations Specialist, USS MIRANDA and “Captain" Leo Streely, USS GALAXY.

Location: The crash site of the runabout BLACKHAWK

Previously: On their way back to the USS MIRANDA, Ensign Soval and the GALAXY's Leo Streely find their shuttle besieged with mechanical failures. The shuttle craft crashed deep in the heart of C'chon, one of Romulus' densly populated suburbs. While Leo and Soval regain their bearings, crazed, rioting Romulans attack the shuttle forcing the duo to defend themselves.

Leo Streely was terrified.

What seemed like a lifetime ago, he had swindled his way onboard the USS Galaxy as a reporter for one of the Federation's less reputable tabloids. From that moment he had encountered danger time and time again.

He was there when Cardassian war criminal Gul Madred schemed for the fabled Stone of Tears at Delcia IV. He had fought the Sanguinarian vampires, battled back invading Borg drones and was subjugated with the rest of the crew by the Hirogen.

He had to deal with ghosts, changelings, organized crime, his own clone, his heritage as a son of a Q, the traitorous Chris Thomas and his bastard son Wikkins and watched as a Yiridian nearly killed his best friend.

Yet he had always remained optimistic that victory would be snatched from the jaws of defeat. Raven Darkstar would loom his way and dispatch the bad guys with a wave of his mighty fist. The genius of the Galaxy and her crew would always prevail.

No matter how dire things looked, he always had a joke at hand and a swagger in his step knowing that there was still hope.

Until now.

Here on Romulus, home of one of the most dangerous enemies Starfleet had ever known, marooned with a Vulcan stranger while the rest of the fleet was busy battling a Hydran invasion fleet, Leo watched as hundreds of Romulans yelling and screaming in their native tongue, weaved their way through the maze of buildings and dirt streets, and advanced towards the crashed runabout.

The comm panel squawked behind him, hissing loudly and crackling as broken reports of battle filtered across the bandwidth in fragmented portions.

"Did you get out that SOS call?" Leo asked Soval.

The Vulcan Security specialist never moved his gaze from his phaser rifle's cross hairs. Where Leo had been covered with sweat and grime from dirt being kicked up in the air, Soval appeared to be the eye of the hurricane.

If he was uneasy in the face of what was coming at them he didn't show it. Nor did his voice betray any fear when he spoke.

"Affirmative. Given the status of the battle above us, it would be more then logical to operate under the assumption that we are on our own for the time being."

"Ahhh fuck." Leo said, spitting blood onto the deck plates. "Here I am, living a John Q. Bhrode wet dream and I can't think of one joke."

"Facing one's demise is rarely a source of jocularity."

Leo squinted through the stinging smoke of the burning debris and watched as the rioting Romulans piled broken chairs, pieces of table and other hunks of debris into breakwalls of cover around the runabout.

In the distance, behind the swirling dirt and paper he could hear pockets of phaser fire being endlessly exchanged.

The phaser rifle felt heavy in his hands. He breath was short and sharp.

"Now is the time when I would normally ask you if you were talking about my jock."

"And now is the time when I would remind you that I have not, nor anticipate a time when your genitals would again be a topic of discussion." Soval said. "Remember, short bursts of fire. Only shoot those immediately shooting at you or anyone within 10 yards of our position."

Leo watched as women and children ran among the rioting Romulans, many brandishing phasers and homemade weapons.

"How do you tell the good guys from the bad?" Leo asked, shouldering his rifle as phaser fire ricocheted off the hull.

"Everyone not wearing a Starfleet uniform is a target."

"Well, that certainly narrows it down a little." the little man said.

"I see your sense of humor has returned." Soval noted and then began firing his phaser in short bursts at onrushing enemies.

Leo followed suit and for the next twenty minutes, bodies piled up outside of the craft. Explosions rocked their position. The stench of death blew in on the slight wind and nearly gagged Streely.

His shoulder grew sore form using the rifle. He checked his power level on the phaser.

"I'm nearly empty!" he yelled, the sounds of the explosion temporarily playing havoc with his hearing and making it seem as though he were in a fish bowl.

"HEY! HEY!!" he screamed as he eyed Soval.

The Vulcan had come out of the cover of the runabout and was crouched over a Romulan woman he had shot. She had been carrying some sort of homemade liquid bomb and his phaser fire detonated the liquid.

Angry black burns stretched from the bloodied underside of her chin to the middle of her abdomen.

He was pressing the butt of his phaser rifle into her wounds amplifying her already wretched screams to an almost breathless level.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!?" Leo screamed, taking a couple more shots on an advancing rioter.

The woman looked up at her attacker with tears streaming down her face.

"K...Kill...m...me." she gasped. "P..Please k..kill me."

"No." the Vulcan said, continuing to study her.

Streely charged over and knocked the man to the ground. The pair wrestled for a moment with Leo ending up atop Soval who was still staring at the woman in an almost trancelike state.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!?!?" Leo screamed.

Soval looked at him blankly and then flung him aside. From where he laid he could see the mob had advanced within 5 yards of the shuttle craft. He couldn't reach his rifle.

He was going to die.

And he was pissed.

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!" Leo screamed at Soval who only now looked away from the woman and at Leo. The Romulans had advanced past the zero barrier and it would only be seconds until they were both cut down.

"I thought...I felt something." he said to Leo.

He watched as one of the Romulans leveled a blaster at them while Leo screamed obscenities and suddenly his attackers were hit with repeated phaser blasts.

Above them, three Starfleet troop transports circled the crash site and provided suppressive fire while marines rappelled down thick black ropes and took up defensive positions around the runabout.

The marine detachment's phasers cut a swath through the Romulan attackers with ease. One of the Marines pulled back his goggles to reveal a very weathered and worn face.

"Captain. Colonel Gideon Slade, USS AKIRA, 7th Battalion. Are you OK to move?"

Leo still stared at Soval and nodded.

"Transporters are a pain in our ass right now and we don't dare take the chance of loosing you in our pattern buffers. We're gonna have to pull you out the old fashioned way." Slade said. Escorting Leo and Soval into the waiting troop transport.

No sooner had their boots hit the deck then the craft lifted off and sped towards the darkness of space where the brilliant lights of the tail end of battle flared.

He looked at Soval across the transport.

The Vulcan appeared as normal as he usually did.

Cold.

Distant.

Chilling.

"Carry On"

Ensign David Walker

===

Racked by a confusing mixture of exhilaration, anger, and grief, David tried to keep his hands from shaking as he packed. He'd just recently received orders to temporarily take over as helm officer for the USS Exeter, which had lost practically all of its experienced crew in that vicious battle over Romulus, and he couldn't be any more excited about the opportunity this afforded him. He desperately needed some command experience if he intended to see his career plans through, and as far as David knew, he would effectively be the Exeter's chief navigation officer until further notice.

The other two emotions, however, had been plaguing him since the Galaxy had fled Romulus in the wake of the Hydrans and their horrific Star Beast. So many Federation and Romulan lives had been lost in that fight, and right now it felt like all those poor people had died for nothing. Certainly, the allied fleet had fought bravely, but the Hydrans had won, and now they occupied the capital of the Romulan Star Empire. There were still a lot of Starfleet officers left behind on Romulus, and David wondered if they would ever be rescued.

David's jaw worked angrily as he closed his pack and shouldered it on his way out of his quarters. He strode swiftly down the corridor and into the turbolift. "Deck four," he said, surprised at how thick his voice sounded.

As the turbolift thrummed to life, David relaxed his posture, thinking back to what was really making him feel like this. He thought that after time to let it sink in that it wouldn't affect him anymore, but he had been wrong. His childhood hero was gone, and he wasn't sure if he would ever get over it completely.

David had been born and raised in Alaska, and he grew up hearing stories about Christopher Summers and his legendary family. As a boy, he had dreamed of serving with Captain Summers aboard his famous ship, the USS Anchorage. David wasn't ashamed to admit that Chris Summers was a major influence on his decision to join Starfleet; he had wanted to be just like his idol, and that aspiration still remained.

He had come the closest he would ever get to serving with Captain Summers there above Romulus, and every day the fleet was there, David wished he had been aboard the Miranda instead of the Galaxy. That thought embarrassed him, as he had a great deal of respect for Daren M'Kantu, a fine captain in his own right, but being so close to serving with his hero had been frustrating. Now Christopher Summers was dead, and David would never have the honor of meeting him. That thought burned through David like a hot knife, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The floor suddenly shook beneath him, and he blinked in shock, an arm reaching out for the turbolift's wall to help keep his footing. He was surprised when he grasped air, and David shook his head, looking around and suddenly realizing where he was.

"Welcome aboard the Exeter, sir," said the enlisted shuttle pilot beside him.

David's face turned a shade of red that nearly matched his collar. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he couldn't even remember arriving at Shuttlebay One, boarding the shuttle that would take him to the Exeter, or the flight over. He glanced at the pilot and offered her a grateful nod before standing up and retrieving his things, his embarrassment quickly fading as he stepped onto the Exeter's main shuttlebay.

He took a second to look around before heading for the nearest turbolift, and as he stepped inside it, he made a silent vow. From this day forward, David would do his best to live up to Christopher Summers' example, to do such things in his own career that some young child in Alaska, years from now, would look up at the stars and dream as he once did.

“Beauty of the Beast”

By Commander James Lionel Corgan

And Lieutenant T'lan

Soundtrack:

-”Bless The Child” By Nightwish (Star Beast's Entrance)

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

USS Galaxy, Deck 32

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

Waiting was the hardest part of the battle, allowing the imagination to conjure not just the delusional thoughts of glory and heroics, but to also dredge up the horrid enslavements of a battlefield's worse fears and follies. There were thoughts of saving the day under the explosion of sparks and wrecked metal, but then that was coupled with the hazards. The same sparks igniting power lines. The metal singing lethally into flesh. The air giving out as it rushes into space...

James tried to ignore it by immersing himself into his role as the security chief.

His deputies had their own methods, but none had his excuse to escape. He could tell in their faces, a mixture of fear, anxiety and pain, that their last few minutes to wait for battle was a hell for all eternity. Some gripped their phaser rifles as if it was their favorite childhood toy to bring them comfort. One hummed a song. A couple others glanced at each other nervously.

The patrols waited, not knowing when battle would come.

The ship rocked from multiple hits, but the Galaxy held. A console, overloaded with energy coursing from the shields to the power relays, blew out, spilling electronic entrails and blowing plastic shrapnal. Ensigns bucked under the shifting decks. Two or three swore as the ship was hit by another volley. Others started to show panic.

“Oh my god!” One of the ensigns panicked.

James spun about with rapid heel pivots, and caught the ensign in a withering stare. “WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT?!?! It's just a f**king console! The shields are still up and when they aren't we're giving the Hydrans a swift boot to the f**king balls! Cowboy up you f**king maggot, and you'll live!” He then directed his stare at the other scared ensigns, “THAT GOES FOR EVERYONE! Fight now! Cry later! GOT IT?!?!”

“SIR! YES SIR!!!” Went the ensigns.

The twin presences of unphased veteran officers buoyed their spirits, anchoring them to their task and the deck. James never thought of his leadership abilities but in afterthought, always thinking there was some outside force to his actions that made others do as he wished. But in battle, it was different. Lead by example. Others followed as long as it wasn't too suicidal.

But then he retracted. T'lan the Vulcan, by being Vulcan, was the beacon of strength.

“You are lucky, T'lan.” James addressed his closest deputy, a Vulcan lieutenant with jet black hair, cropped and cut short and thick in the fashion of her homeworld. Though she was shorter than James, her lack of impressive height was more than made up by her coiled, tight movement and haughty stance. Her grace under pressure was trademark Vulcan, the impassive face keeping its secrets well buried from everyone but James. Corgan knew T'lan long enough that the constant glances at him and the inspecting of passing security patrols meant she was worried, but it was enough to know her composure was invincible. James admired that strength, always relied on it.

Vulcans seemed unemotional to most species, but subtle mannerisms spoke louder. He could only guess what T'lan was thinking as she answered back.

“Sir, what do you mean?”

James gave his answer, “Vulcan. You understand.”

Perplexed, T'lan responded, “You have not once stammered, apologized, or weakened your voice during this emergency. If you are admiring the Vulcan's unemotional properties during battle, I can assure you that you have nothing to envy. You are handling yourself well.”

“Years of practice.” Corgan fired back, but halted as be was about to quip lightly. He had come to realize that T'lan was not speaking for his encouragement, but to strengthen her own. Her hand started to shake and her step became uncertain.

He added with a pat on her armoured shoulder, “We're in this together, Lieutenant. I rely on you more than you realize. Stick with me and we'll both make it through. Got it, Lieutenant?”

She uncertainly nodded, “Yes sir.” uttered out of her lips, as she braced her polaron rifle to her shoulder. Her resolve thickened as her face tensed. James secretly smiled.

“Well then... all we have to do is...”

He heard the hellish crack of the ship being thundered thick, powerful hellbore blasts. As if knocked in the jaw by a trained prize fighter, the Galaxy listed over too fast for the inertial dampners to compensate. Like pins, the security officers were knocked from the floor and into any nearby wall. James felt himself picked off his feet by invisible hands, and before he could say 'oh sh*t', his shoulder bashed into a panel, jarring itself and rattling him deep to his bones. His abused shoulder shouted out its protests with rivulets of pulsing pain even before he finished his unceremonious tumble to the floor, but when he did it, it was hard on his own ass. His head rebounded off the wall, as flashes of light struck his senses blind.

His reaction was to check himself, though there was a lack of any stabbing, sharp pains. Nothing was broken, though he felt himself battered and beaten by the ship itself. His one hand probed for his type two phaser, an instant reaction whenever he saw himself vulnerable and in danger. The other was to check the back of his head, feel for blood, probe for a fracture of a concussion. The stars were starting to clear in his head, but he couldn't be sure.

It was a passage of time of only one second. The results of the strike were made clear enough when he heard the rushing of air, like a great big vortex, blowing past him.

“BREACH!!!!!!!!!”

Corgan heard an ensign scream before the air rushed past, picking him up with it. The young officer had barely let those words escape him as he was tossed into vacuum, his body tumbling into the starry void, his arms and legs flailing, his skin slowly flaking off as it froze. His dying lips tried to scream, but was overwhelmed by the roaring vacuum.

Then the air decided to pick up James.

He had a helpless moment of being carried away, dragged by a giant he couldn't see. Forgetting his phaser and his rattled head, his arms and legs flailed, snatching at anything that protruded. The air past him felt bone cold; it was cooling as fast as it was escaping. His arms fought the wind as he saw a protruding piece of metal. It was jagged and sharp, and it would lacerate his hand if he held onto it, but as he saw the alternative and knew the effects of prolonged exposure to space through first hand experience, he knew what was the better choice.

Trying to take a deep breath, but feeling it snatched away by the hurriedly escaping air, James lunged himself towards the metal with his outstretched arm.

His hand did not quite make it. Another hand clutched his wrist and yanked him with alien strength. Suspended in the tidal wave of air and a toe's length from the border of any emergency force fields, James allowed himself a peep at who was saving him.

Lieutenant T'lan, herself secured by one hand on a bulwark and a foot pushing against a bent deck plating, had James by the wrist in one green and white knuckled grip. Her rifle whipping and clattering against her ribs, her features showed remarkable strain as she tried to keep James still within the ship's atmosphere.

Even as air tried to escape, James heard the whine of transporters. Rather than the effervescent tingle of human made, Starfleet issue transporters, he heard a mysterious scream followed by violet hued swirling lights. He saw the forms materialize within, three headed, multi armed, snakelike silhouettes that grew more pronounced with each passing second. He saw their weapons and EVA suits materialize over their forms.

It took all of his strength to reach for his sidearm, fighting the current of vacuum and the pain from his impact with the wall. T'lan took uneasy glances at materializing forms, but could not reach for her sidearm with both hands busy keeping the partners from being sucked into outer space.

“Swwwwinnnngggg....” James struggled to scream.

His fingers closed around the weapon, and as if in slow motion, drew it out and aimed at the transported figures. The hydran that first materialized wore a face of shock, and tried to level his disruptor rifle in James path. James was quicker, shooting a lance of bright red light from his midnight black pistol, catching the slower soldier in the shoulder. Armour material from his EVA suit sparked and burned, and the body bucked back, loosing its rifle and allowing it to spin into the void. It's body, held firm by a magnetic grappling pseudopod, rippled and waved like a suspended branch in the wind.

There were two other Hydran soldiers behind him, their weapons trained on the duo. James sent lances of red fire after them both, his arm whipping wildly against the wind, his shots appallingly inaccurate. As one beam shot above the Hydran team's head, the enemy soldiers had reacted by staying low and taking cover. James kept firing, and by luck hit another in the chestplate, leaving a searing hole and another suspended, wind flapping body.

But it wasn't enough to stop two Hydrans approaching from T'lan's back, their transporter beams finishing up too fast for James liking, his phaser arm pointed in the opposite direction. He saw a momentary flash of panic in T'lan's eyes; she knew of the oncoming Hydrans and could not fight back.

Both officers looked at each other directly, James firing blind at the Hydrans he could shoot. With a nod of their heads, T'lan strained to her breaking points, green blood flooded to her face, a mask of pain as she commanded her body to do the impossible.

James felt himself sail against the current, turning towards the new batch of Hydrans. T'lan screamed , James bellowed his warcry, fought vacuum as his phaser took aim. The effort alone to pull the trigger demanded more out of him than he thought possible, and as his vision blurred he doubted his aim was true.

But he had to try, or die.

James pulled the trigger, his phaser's whine a sharp rapport. Its beam arced across the corridor, catching the rear attacking Hydrans across the chestplates of their EVA armour, slashing a black, sooty scar across them and releasing foul, ichorous blood.

Then all of the noise stopped, and the sucking, rushing wind ceased to blow as a pop and a 'fwump' of a forcefield kicking to life sealed up the breach. T'lan and James body plummeted to the floor, giving both another hard knock, with James landing on his chest. What little breath he had left in his burning, overtaxed lungs were knocked out, leaving him coughing and in pain. His eardrums rang like a whining siren, but even through that he could hear the enemy firing disruptors, and the singing song of Federation phasers answering back.

His vision came back to him, his eyes still stung by the air as it tried to escape, but what he saw was a sight that, in its breath and scope alone, chilled his soul from core to periphery.

A monster emerged from the rift, lashing tentacles, a star shaped beast bigger than many space stations. Its immensity encouraged fear, its gaping maw a silent scream to the stars and creation. There were no eyes, no limbs but that of the tentacles, it was a starfish mass and a destroyer of worlds.

He had never saw anything so awe inspiring. The intelligence reports could do no justice to this gargantuum as it drifted in space.

A phalanx of Federation starships rushed to meet the starbeast, heeding not the plans as the massive creature sowed chaos into the ranks. Red phaser beams and the amber stars of volleys of torpedos raced to impact with the creature, slamming and