"World's Finest, Part 6: Apples, Peaches, Pears and Such"

Elissa Skylark
Stranger From a Distant Planet

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Terror of the Night

=The Cave=

The silence was pervasive. The chirping voices of bats echoed in the cave, but even that seemed subdued by comparison. Light shifted in this dark place at least one questionably sane man called home, and the slight creaking of a hanging lamp added more shape to the dark corners.

Kara crossed her arms and just stared at Bruce evenly, unapologetic.

She was still furious with him for interfering. So what if the man had died? He'd threatened the little girl. As far as she was concerned, he gave up any right to compassion. Still, long enough under the unerring gaze of the Batman, she began to feel a bit of that irrational fear that had been so easy to discard not long before.

With a sigh, the Batman removed his cowl and tossed it aside. Alfred, who had come down to the Cave to check upon the returning heroes, began to say something - instinctively guessing perhaps that something had gone wrong - but Bruce held up a hand.

"Go."

The old man shook his head, nodded, and then left.

He turned back to face Kara, black eyes burning, "What happened?"

"Justice. Almost, anyway. Maybe we should try working together instead of being at cross-purposes."

Bruce frowned, "You could have killed him."

"It was a distinct possibility. The girl was being threatened. I reacted."

"Yes - you reacted. You reacted *badly*. You could have killed the girl. What exactly were you thinking; he had a weapon - heating gunpowder that quickly - if even a single bullet had gone off...."

"I..." she stopped. Her eyes fell aside as she thought back to the moment. "I couldn't let it happen again, Bruce. Not again."

"Let what happen?"

She walked up to him, searching his eyes, clinging to their familiarity as if her life depended on it. "I don't remember," she breathed, shaking. Her eyes welled up. He grasped her arms without thinking, holding her. Her expression steeled and she wiped her eyes. "I will, though."

One moment, she was there, close enough to smell and see and touch. The next, she wasn't. A rush of air kicked up dust in a trail that led to the cave's exit. He looked up at the swinging lamp and the spooked bats, who scattered to the dark recesses of his cave.

Bruce bowed his head as the emptiness of this place descended upon him.

He had these memories of Kara that felt...they felt like they belonged to a different life, like they were not real - and yet they were so vivid. He remembered holding her when she was naked, shivering, crying.

He remembered that she had kissed him once. He remembered that she was noble, kind.... What was unusual though was that she was the only thing around him now that he could remember. He had trusted her completely - but what had happened at the bank had shaken that trust....

He picked up a phone that dialed up to the mansion proper. Alfred, of course, answered.

"Master Bruce?"

"I need a boat, Alfred. Something fast."

"Like the Batboat, Sir?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course. Thank you, Alfred."

"My pleasure, Sir."

He picked up his cowl then and simply stared at it, ignoring the furious bats above. There was so much loneliness in that simple mask, yet some measure of comfort also - it was possible to seperate the things he did as Batman from himself. Slowly, he put the mask on again.

"Computer," he said, his voice a broken whisper, "Pull up the file on Kara Zor-El...Supergirl. Show me her weaknesses."

"World's Finest, Part 7: Sitting in a Tree"

Elissa Skylark
Stranger From a Distant Planet

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Terror of the Night

=Elsewhere=

Supergirl ran through the streets of Gotham at a speed she could barely perceive. As she tried to deduce which of her perceptions were real, and which were false, she expected nothing to exist beyond the city.

She pushed with everything she had. Soon, she cleared Gotham and was running along country roads, through other cities, through fields, across mountains, and finally, across water. So much water.

She knew the tensile strength of water, knew that she must have been going at such great speeds as to put all her notions of what was humanly possible aside. She ran and ran, hoping to find a wall at the end, a crack in the facade that was this world. But it never came.

Finally, she stopped to catch her breath. Leaning over with her hands on her knees, she waited to regain her strength. Interrupted by flashes of light, she stood once more, looking around at billboards full of color and light and an increasingly large crowd of spectators.

She waved to one of them, and he came over excitedly. "Excuse me, am I where I think I am?"

He gave her a goofy smile. "Omaesan hotto!"

Tokyo. "Great. Excuse me," she said, pushing him aside, gesturing for the crowd to clear. They parted seamlessly. "Thank you." And she was off.

* * *

=The Waterfront=

He was a shadow in the shade. Bruce could not remember the last time he had felt more in his element than he did now, sneaking about in the darkness, preparing well thought out plans. The thug at the bank, Destro, had told him that 'the Boss' had ordered the robbery to divert Batman's attention from a smuggling operation involving a ship called "Gertrude".

Now Bruce could go in swinging, stop the shipment - weapons, apparently

- and allow the police to make some arrests...or he could hide aboard the ship and get to the head of the operation. He had, of course, decided to go with the latter option. It was, he was quite satisfied, the perfect plan. There would be no surprises....

"The world is round," she whispered, from three feet away. For some strange reason, Kara looked disappointed at that revelation, and then busied herself with studying the same view he had.

Definitely no surprises...

"I was wondering what was taking you so long," he told his companion, "Now that you are here, you will be happy to know that I have this under control. So go home and wait to hear from me."

Her eyes squinted and she leaned forward. After a moment a smirk appeared on her face. "It's a trap." She rested her chin on her hands and looked up. "Let me help. I really, really need to hit something."

He sighed. "It *is* a trap - but when it is sprung, trust me, it will be my trap." Bruce looked at her, his gaze like the very scale of Libra itself, "If you want to come with me, then we do this by my rules, in my way, through stealth... and there will be no killing."

"I know... and... thank you. For stopping me. I almost did something terrible." She leaned over and whispered in his pointed ear, "It was noble of you."

Bruce looked at her sideways through slanted eyes. "There really is no need to be insulting...."

"I wasn't trying to be. So what's the plan?"

* * *

=A Box=

"Well," Kara muttered. "This is nice."

"In my defense," Bruce answered with a smile, "When I came up with this plan, I was alone."

"Some people read books." She shifted her weight to her other foot and brushed against his cape for what seemed like the millionth time. "Or, you know, watch sports."

He simply smiled, letting the weak joke pass - mostly because he couldn't think of a response. The plan had been for him to be alone in here. This container was not meant for two people...then again, it was not meant for one either. Being in such close quarters with Kara was hardly an ideal situation - it was entirely too distracting....

"How much longer are...?"

"Two to three hours."

"And how will..."

"We'll know when the ship stops."

"Great." She tapped her feet, and looked around aimlessly. She was running out of things to distract her, and she felt the need to deal with... pressing issues. "I, uh..." she turned awkwardly in an attempt to face him. "I wasn't lying earlier. If it wasn't for you..."

He leaned back as far as he could so that Kara could turn around - even then, it was a tight squeeze. "Hey," he said with a shrug, touching the side of her face to make sure she kept looking up at him, "It happens...

we all lose control of ourselves some times. At the right time, it can even be a good thing. You just...." He laughed softly, "You just picked the wrong time. You will get better at it."

Kara lowered her face, maybe out of shame, maybe out of concentration.

She traced the outline of the bat emblazoned on his armor, and for a long moment just rested her hand as her mind flew. Her voice grew distant. On the one hand, it was cold and calculating. On the other, laced with a degree of emotion. "Do you... remember it too?"

"Yes. It is one of the few things I do remember."

She made her mind up, then looked up and pushed herself toward him, kissing him softly, the way that seemed most familiar. Kara was testing a hypothesis, but she would have been lying to herself if she had said there was no other reason. The kiss deepened, and she remembered what it was like to be lost, and in shock, and in his arms. A glimpse of the truth, once more, but it came with such intensity that she pushed him in a rush of adrenaline.

Not knowing her own strength, Kara had made a dire miscalculation. Wood splintered in every direction, and the sound of hurried footsteps reached her ears even as the sunlight flooded everything.

Bruce rose to his feet, brushing the chipped wood off of himself, quite certain now that their presence had been rather emphatically announced.

"Great. We should do this again sometime. Dinner, perhaps...."

A gravelly voice rumbled from the top deck. "Gentlemen, there's a bat infestation in our stash! Feel free to..."

Kara marched out, looking up with a defiant glare. She sneered at the grotesque image before her, but the man only laughed. "Two for the price of one. Our favorite kind of deal." He jumped down to the deck solidly. "And oh my, what a pair."

The one crazy, unblinking eye, leered at her. Kara crossed her arms in front of her chest self-consciously. The entire crew's eyes were on her, and it made her skin crawl. What did someone say at a time like this... "Show's over, uh... you!"

"There really is no need for violence," the Batman drawled as he stepped forward, "The lot of you can just jump off the ship and drown quietly.

It will spare you a little pain."

Supergirl turned and eyed him strangely. "Like that will..." She felt a brush on the back of her head, and turned to see a goon holding a bent crowbar. She felt the top of her head. Not even a scratch. Smiling she walked forward. He backpedaled, and she kept approaching. Pulling a gun, he aimed it at her. She stopped cold, eyeing it warily.

"I would not aim for her head. She has a thick skull."

She shrieked, "Are you...?!" BANG. It was practically point blank,

and nothing. She smiled. "You miss..." her gaze fell. The bullet lay on the deck, crushed. Her hand darted to her forehead, feeling a tingle. It was impossible, but the evidence was irrefutable. She glared at the thug. "You shot me!"

"See?" The Dark Knight said, "You know... you really should google some superheroes, do a little research. It will do wonders for your health."

She shoved the man with one hand, sending him over the railing. His yell was punctuated by a splash. "Bastard."

The other goons were holding back, staring at the Bat as if he had gone insane. Finally, one of them cleared his throat and said, "Yo...

Batman, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"I just got kissed by a woman I have been crushing on for some time now... and then you guys came along and ruined the moment. I was just trying to use a little humor to keep myself from losing my temper and taking it all out on you." His eyes narrowed and he growled, a sinister smile playing on his lips, "You are right though...it was a crazy idea."

"Hey, Bats! Rule number one in warfare. Keep track of your enemies."

The crazy, deformed man had moved back up to the top deck.

"Who in the world does he think he is?" Supergirl asked.

"His name is Two Face...and he thinks he is sane."

"Riiiiight."

Two-Face ducked down behind the upper railing, and stood back up with a much larger weapon resting on his shoulder. Heedless of his own goons, he aimed it at Batman. "Kiss this, Bats."

"You'll sink the ship!"

It fired. Time slowed down as Kara watched it arc toward Bruce.

Without even thinking, she took a step and leapt at the rocket, catching it in her hands and wrenching it up and away from the deck of the ship.

Holding on for dear life, she tried to bring it under control. The rocket bucked in her hands and jostled her about in the air as it arced into the sky and away from the boat, shaking her like a rag doll.

It stalled and hovered in the air for the briefest of moments. The explosion rocked the sky, sending ripples of heat even as far as the boat. The limp, tattered form of Supergirl plunged into the water almost on the edge of sight. A tattered red cape rippled after her.

Batman turned.

Bruce Wayne ran to the edge of the ship, staring down into the merciless depths of the ocean.

Aerv tr'Ahalaen screamed, his entire soul trust into one desperate word, the intensity of his grief so fierce that it broke the heart of Poseidon himself, "Elissa!"

OOC: This is a backpost to after the Hydrans were defeated.

"Returning Home"

Lt. Man'darr Maivia
Chief of Operations
USS Miranda

2nd Lt. Branwen London
Furies XO
USS Galaxy

Dr. Robert Mathieson
Medical Officer
USS Galaxy

Branwen moaned, she had lost consciousness again, and her fever was high. She was sweating, and tossing and turning on the bed. In doing so she hurt herself by aggravating the badly set broken bones and bruised ribs.

"You must lay still," Man'darr said. Suddenly the ground shook with the sound of a nearby explosion. Man'darr rushed to see if they were under attack and saw the energy beam strike an area not too far away, followed by an emense explosion that again rocked the ground. "Looks like Federation Phasers. I believe the Fleet has returned, but we need to get her out of here, doctor."

"What.." Branwen opened her eyes, only half lucid.

The Romulan phisician bent over the Marine and felt her for ehead and looked into Branwen's dialated eyes. "She's getting weaker. The antibiotics are not working as well as I had hoped - her lymphatic system is shutting down, and th e infec! tio n's spreading to her other organs." She looked up a the looming Capellan. "In her condition, moving her over rough terrain will kill her. We need to transport her to a starship or secure a hover-vehicle to move her to a medical facility."

"With a battle going on above us, I doubt anyone will be able to lower their shields to beam us aboard. We should move her to a safer location before one of those phasers strike this area. I will return soon." Man'darr rushed outside beofre the doctor could respond to look for a hover vehicle to transport Branwen with. Most of the surrounding area was a wasteland to say the least--with destroyed buildings and debris littering what remained of the roads.

===

Man'darr had traveled a block when he finally spotted a damaged Romulan Ground Cargo Hover Transport Vehicle. The light-green vehicle was banged up badly from debris and a part of Man'da! rr w on dered if it would even operate as he climbed into the cab and looked over the instruments. "Lets see..." Man'darr located the button marked "Start" in Rihannsu and pressed it. The engine struggled and died as Man'darr pressed the button again and again, each time failing to start. "Start damn you!" Man'darr roared in frustration as he pounded the button with his fist. To his surprise, the vehicle started up and lifted off the ground. Man'darr immediately floored the accelerator and almost im mediately heard a cry of an animal as a furry animal grappled hi s face. He could feel its tiny claws puncturing into his skin. Man'darr immediately grabbed the animal, causing thr small animal to break its grip. Man'darr looked at the ani mal who hissed at him in reponse. "Stupid cat! Where did you come from?" Man'daar asked as he tossed the animal into a cargo container and locking it, though a part of him wanted to toss it out of the speeding vehicle.

He then arrived at the hospital and left the hover vehicle running as he entered the hospital. More phasers struck the ground nearby.

===

Upon loading Branwen into the damaged cargo truck, Man'darr sped off as fast as the vehicle could travel. The truck's engine whined as it strained to keep the vehicle at 128 KPH (80 MPH) as it sped though the devestated city. Man'darr barely saw the Hydran soldier as he stepped out from behind a building. The last thing the Hydran saw was the truck speeding directly in his direction. Less than a half-second later, the hover cargo truck impacted the Hydran, instantly shattering his skeletal system and ripping i! nto the flesh as the body was forced down under the vehicle as it passed over. Tha mangled body rolled a few times before coming to a hault. Man'darr checked the side mir ror as he sped on. 'Ewwww, road kill,' Man'darr thought with an evil grin, turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

A few hours later, Man'darr had managed to get Branwen aboard the Galaxy and in its sickbay due to meeting up with Marine reinforcements from the fleet. The large capellan stood out with his dirty and bloodied bandage and bare chest.

===

"Well, well, well - if it 'aint Lieutenant London", the gravelley voice chimed. "An' yer in to condition t' hug me lungs out - I'm 'urt, lass. We'll jus' have t' work on gettin' that fine Welsh constitution o' yers up an' runnin. Jus' lay still, an' well take a peek at yer bits an' pieces."

She could see bright lights above her. Branwen smiled, ! but thi s was probably what happened when you went to heaven. Peaceful, the only thing missing was the heavenly music and loved ones waiting for her. Maybe that would come later.

But then somehow she heard a familiar voice. Branwen tried to focus. Could God sound like Dr Mathieson?

"Doc...?" She croaked.

"At's right, lass", the voice rumbled, slightly d istorted by a high pitched humming sound floading around the Marine's head.. "Kindly Doctor Math - still around an' patchin' up wot needs fixin'. Like yer ribs. An' yer spleen...an' yer lymphatic system.... Chris London - yer a mess! Wot'cher been up to, eh?"

Consciousness was fading again, but she tried to hang on. "My... job.

Man'darr w! atched the doctor begin to work on Branwen. "I need to go to the Miranda and let them know I am still alive before they declare me dead or MIA. Let me know when she is better, doctor," Man'darr headed out of the door of sickbay.

"Dar!" She called after him weakly.

Man'darr stopped mid-stride and turned around, re-entering sickbay. "What is it?" he asked, approaching her.

"I love you. Come back soon." She was trying not to cry.

Man'darr grinned and touched her face lightly. "I love you too, and I will."

"Blood"

Ensign Zev Raynor - Terran Telepath
Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer - USS Galaxy

Location: Hydran Holding Cell

Blood...

It flows so easily when it first departing from its home, but stains much, and dries quickly upon the floor...

Too little blood coursing through the system and that's it... game over... when your on the front lines trying to exact as much blood as possible from your enemy, you aren't really supposed to care who it belongs to so long as they aren't on your side.

But that was the question that was coming. Whose blood was coursing through his veins?

He asked a similar question to his doctor once before... how different do you have to be in order to not be human. How different genetically is a monkey from a human being or hell the Neanderthal from the modern human being. It might as well be the difference between a cheese pizza, and grilled cheese with tomato paste. Yes its there, but it tastes the same... doesn't it?

The question on the surface seemed to be about genetic modifications that had been done to him years ago, but there was a deeper meaning.

Raynor leaned back and wondered how much he had hidden from everyone...

since the time he was 'rescued'/'captured' by a Starfleet vessel after Starke's betrayal. His name, his past, his heritage. But with this clone, and the extra organ, these sorts of questions are bound to come up. And in this situation he wondered how long he could keep diverting his interrogations from topics that actually mattered.

A combination of telepathic communication and direct eye contact hypnosis allow him to manipulate them so easily, because of their limited understanding of what a human being could really do allowed him to keep it up this long, but that didn't matter. Eventually they would try something different; these Hydrans were stubborn and self-righteous but not total idiots.

He had also the other problem to consider... any escape attempt would be moot because in all likelihood there was not a drop of oxygen beyond the door. He could only hold his breathe for about 8 minutes and randomly scouting hoping to find a way out or formulate a plan on the run had a narrow to no chance of success.

Methane breathing Hydrans would have to brown nose him if the situation was reversed. Literally. His shit was a methane factory, but that was beside the point. And yet, for a moment he wondered if Hydran crap produced oxygen... though he wasn't about to stick his nose up one of their asses to survive.

But he wasn't about to test that theory any time soon, though he would have to look into it.

Back to the matter at hand, even if there was breathable air beyond the door they a getting into any sort of fire fight wouldn't be advisable unless he knew the exact oxygen to methane ratio. Too much methane, or too little wouldn't matter so much. But you get the right ratio you could wind up with an explosion in a very confined space with a barbequed Raynor. Unless of course they had in fact taken the remote possibility of an unwanted explosion into account and armed their guards with weapons that wouldn't set off an explosion. All based on the assumption that there was ANY oxygen beyond that door to begin with.

Running through all the different situations he could encounter behind that door. He knew needed more information. To somehow divine the ground on the other side of that door.

Raynor chuckled at that. Any other member of his species would have trouble understanding the idea of trying to divine something... but to Raynor it should come naturally.

Divine... Saint... God...

Any person could find comfort or even confidence when being compared to such ideas, principles, or people... But the difference between the Divine and the Demonic was press coverage. Raynor knew that all too well.

Pariah... Monster... Demon...

That's what his people called him, perhaps justifiably... After all, he had killed over 50 Ronin in fit of anger. His childhood was spent in isolation after that... no one would get close to him. He grew up on Midgar, alone...

promising to himself that he would force the Coven to recognize his existence by becoming something that they could not ignore, nor disrespect.

The Shogun.

But that dream was shattered by the betrayal of another.

Starke, a Ferengi Doctor... a cold hearted scientist... Though he was suspected of having side interests as all outsiders were... No one could of known that he had been bought off by Section 31... and on the eve of their most important victory over the Federation, and stealing it from them.

Starke the one who fiddled with his DNA, making him telepathic, and oh yes through telepathy asborb the memories and even the consciousness of anyone passed from life unto death with his range. Starke... the one who killed his father before his very eyes.

Father... The only person in the Coven who had ever recognized his existence was his father... after he completed his Officer training. So short a time... to get to know his own father...

The reason he didn't have more time... Raynor had this extra organ of unknown power. It was part of a genetic inheritence that he had gained from his mother. Bloodlines that went back thousands of years... that his ancestors apparently carried secretly within them... allowing them to do many things... almost anything was in grasp...

But Raynor was the son of a whore... someone who was a whore not because she had to be... but because she chose to be... This bothered Raynor, who chooses a life like that? Why would you choose to be subject to that kind of abuse and disrespect?

Not that it mattered now... her bloodline was his bloodline. And that's what they would want to know. In time, eventually... Raynor would probably break.

But for now... time was something Raynor could afford to waste.

Time... with time... the bloodlines would become diluted... with time...

different strands would die off... until now, where only a handful of those who could grow the organ at all remained. Maybe Raynor was the last remains of the race that supposedly died out a long time ago. And if he was... could Raynor still be considered human with everything else?

Not it mattered right now... For the moment all he could do was hope that the Hydrans didn't know what they had... and bide his time waiting for the right moment to strike and escape. He would pray but... who the hell answers the prayers anymore?

He chuckled at that... when the door openned, and the next Hydran interriogator stepped forward... he just smiled and looked the bastard in the eye, before getting the backhand.

Raynor just turned to the Hydran, stared him in the eye, and spat the blood out in his general direction...

"A Small Victory" - backpost

Cole Slaton
Various NPCs

The swirling bullet slammed into its target, puncturing through the unfortunate foe's armour with practised ease. The bullet hadn't changed much in the three hundred odd years since its creation. Kyle McKline was the inventor, a man who changed the face of police enforcement.

H.V. ammunition, High Velocity, was designed for one purpose and one purpose only. To kill. The bullet was created to pass through the Kevlar armour that many terrorists, of that day, were using. This wasn't what had so many in uproar, with protests all over the United Kingdom, and later the world, springing up - two having turned into riots seeing three police officers injured, one severely - nor was this the reason military bodies were rubbing their hands in glee. These bullets had a secret, once hitting the victim they remain inside, effectively eliminating the majority of non-combatant casualties and injuries.

It was this long forgotten ammunition, with the introduction of phaser weapons in the early stages of Starfleet, which had replaced the H.V. ammo, which now struck the Hydran soldier. Like so many before the bullet tore through the alien's insides with vicious intent, allowing dark blood to run freely.

It was dead before hitting the ground.

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

Seven minutes ago,
Romulus capital,
Western section of ground deployment

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

Noise of gunfire and explosions echoed throughout the capital. Clouds of smoke from fires raging unchecked blackened the sky making as if night had fallen. Though the marines and Hazards were well trained and determined in their duties it seemed the Hydrans were equal, it not more so, in their own determination.

The Starfleet officers were outnumbered and out gunned, while this didn't necessarily decide an outcome of a battle, it sure as not helped. Slaton was crouched above a narrow street, though to call it so would have been a great exaggeration. An alley would have been more accurate. The building had a flat roof, perfect for the Hazard officer waiting with unyielding purpose.

Having left the marine squad he'd attached himself to, detailing them with specific orders, he was already into double figures of definite kills, with double that as possibles. The Hazard X.O. had ambushed two squads of Hydran warriors. None of course were the Hydran elite, dark clad soldiers who had been spotted in numerous places leaving death and horror in their wake.

On his travels through the city Cole had come across the aftermath of an unfortunate squad of marines. There was no mistaking who they had encountered. Each marine, whether still alive or dead, had been stripped of their clothes, and later their skin. Limbs were hung from hooks driven into the walls of building, blood smeared on windows, bones and entrails were left to litter the ground in an obscene and grotesque manner as if some mad artist was at work.

He had to fight the urge to heave, still able to taste the vile taste of his vomit having spilled his guts at the horrifying sight. From the moment of leaving that nightmare the young El-Aurian had thought of nothing but revenge.

It seemed liked hours had passed, waiting for the enemy. They finally appeared, like shadows in the gloom, when the thought of shifting his weight finally seemed too hard to resist. His muscles aching with cramp, yet seeing the Hydrans the pain vanished, washed away in an instant, better than any Federation painkiller. The stiffness, the cramps faded. Slowly, and silently, unclipping the top harness clip of his rifle, he also checked each blade in their respected sheathes.

By this time the first three Hydrans had passed his position unaware of the danger they were now in. Awaiting the right time to strike was crucial, hesitating could spell disaster. The time came when the middle two Hydrans paused for a brief moment glancing behind them.

A decision they would regret for the last few remaining seconds of their lives.

Taking the half step up onto the edge of the flat roof he leaned forward allowing himself to drop pulling the trigger of his rifle as he fell. The rifle jarred in his grip spewing the lethal projectiles that rained down onto the two unsuspecting foes. The bullets tore into them both, their armour giving little to no protection. The seconds that followed were nothing more than a blur of chaotic violence. Cole landed among the dead Hydrans, knees bending absorbing the impact, spinning around he sprayed the rear guard with a salvo of bullets. Using the momentum his left hand pulled a blade from his chest throwing it to his side. It spun end over end and for a brief horrifying moment Cole saw, in his mind's eye, the handle strike instead of the blade. This didn't happen. The blade struck true finding the joint at the base of the Hydran's neck sinking into flesh.

In a moment of apparently utter madness Cole turned away leaving the two, still living, Hydran's now behind him, the third collapsing to its knees clutching the knife in its neck, having discarded its weapon. The Hydrans in their rage and surprise didn't notice the end of the knife's handle, a small red blinking light. The blast was immense, the shockwave ripping the three Hydrans apart throwing fragments of bone, flesh and armour. A wave of super heat followed, Cole had already activated his headpiece. Retractable armour came up over his head and face, it locked into position just as the heat struck. It slammed into him with as much force as the initial shockwave, it pushed him down to his knees, and despite the protection of his Hazard Suit he could still feel the heat seeping through.

Standing, his suit smoking among the smouldering bodies, he glanced around.

The walls were blackened by the heat, small sections were on fire. The ground mirrored the walls, black with ash and soot, only the black smoking bodies broke up the flat barren alley. The nanobots of his suit were quick to reassert themselves, having been forced from his back by the two shockwaves. Close to a million had been destroyed by the initial blast, another two million melted or otherwise damaged from the heat. Despite this the nanobots covered the majority of his body and within moments had replicated enough to re-establish the camouflage.

Grinning Cole lifted his rifle, the butt up into his shoulder allowing him to look along the sights, finger resting against the trigger.

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

K'Elhya sector,
Capital,
Romulus

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

Sergeant Ellis shifted her position, stifling a moan as she did, cramp having settled into her leg. Quick to silence any witty remarks from the marine beside her she once more returned her attention to the view. A junction lay before the shattered window where she lay, rifle beside her, binoculars in hand. From here she had perfect view of the strike zone. She had to admit the Haz knew his stuff, sometimes frighteningly so.

The street stretched out in front of them. Running three hundred metres before branching off to the east where, after many twists and turns, it finally connected with the main road through the western section of the capital.

Looking through the binoculars she heard the explosion before seeing it, shifting the binoculars to the left she spotted the smoke. It rose from behind several buildings, thick like oil moving in water, before spreading out dissipating in the air.

“That's him...” Ellis whispered.

“You're sure?” Ellis only nodded in reply.

As if hearing the question himself the Haz came out rifle blazing in the night. Energy pulses spewed forth from his rifle, having only a small amount of H.V ammo, small spheres of energy able to stun victims or vaporise in an instant. It was almost guaranteed the Haz had the setting on the latter, or at the very least on kill setting. Vaporising victims was an energy luxury the ground forces couldn't afford.

“Here they come...” Ellis whispered. They poured out into the street like a living breathing tidal wave. Energy fire lashed out from their weapons.

Lifting the remote up her finger pulled the safe-guard up revealing the trigger beneath, thumb resting on the trigger she pressed.

A blood bath - plain and simple.

She'd waited for the first row to pass the staggered line of mines, they exploded with a ferocious intent. Once activated four shot up from the earth to just above head height, an altitude sensor within, which could judge height to within a fraction of a centimetre, detonated the mines at their predetermined level. Shrapnel from these mines tore into the Hydran lines, through flesh, armour and bone they could not be stopped. Other mines released gas before detonating, the few seconds before detonation allowed the gas to waft in the wind spreading over a greater area. Starting at the mines partially buried in the top soil, vents all that were visible, a spark within set off the gas and the flames raced through it with a seemingly living purpose.

Together with Jackson, positioned on the right side of the street to cover Slaton's retreat from a third storey building, and support from Ellis and Adams, the Hydran lines were torn to ribbons. It was all over in less than a minute, motionless smoking corpses all that remained. From the shadows Jackson and Slaton emerged, rifles trained on the bodies, as they walked among the dead. Fires gave small respites to the darkness bathing all around them in their yellow glow.

A small victory in the scheme of things, but no matter how small it was still better than nothing.

"Unpredictable" - part I

Lt. Saul Bental
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galaxy

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG
USS Galaxy

"You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses." - Ziggy

The woman stood outside his quarters, a steel reserve met her inwardly as she waited for permission to enter. She had been here before, under different circumstances. The discovery of the chip warranted a visit to the best intel officer she knew. Or, in retrospect, the only one she wanted to know. Dressed casually, and not to impress, she fingered the small chip in her hand.

The door opened to reveal Saul Bental's quarters. It was messy, but not as much as his old room was after Havras, when the Triad redecorated it with a new window to outer space.

He was lying on the sofa, watching some imagery projected at the opposite wall. He turned his head toward her, and shut off the projection.

"Hey Fay-Fay." He said. He didn't speak with her after the ruckus at ten forward earlier that day.

"Saul." The simple tone of her voice was not seductive, but more as a vocal request for attention of a business matter. He had heard the tone, before a trial, or before she sat on the bench of her first case. "I need you."

Of course she did, he thought. After what happened that morning, she probably needed to vent. He wasn't sure he could blame her.

Saul rose to a sitting position. Cynicism aside, this was Fay-Fay. He owed her some of the most exciting nights of his life, and to some extent also his career. As a JAG, she helped him negotiate the hearing following the catastrophic final mission of Special Observation Craft 074.

A Bental pays his debts. Eventually.

"How can I help?"

Rolling her eyes, a slight smile flashed across her mouth. She sat on the sofa, at his request, and reached out for his hand. As she took it in hers, reluctant memories bolted across her mind. Faylin pressed the tiny chip into the palm of his hand, permitting him to study it for a moment before closing his fingers around it for protection.

"I knew....that I could come to you with this. It was from a locket my mother had. I don't know what kind of information it contained....but I believe it's important. Can you check on this for me Panther?"

"Of course." He told her, glancing at it. Just your everyday Isolinear chip... at least, from the outside. He gently closed his fingers on it.

"Unless it's trivial, I'll need to involve my technical officer." He told her. At least, his OLD Technical officer. He only got a preliminary report about Eve, but he suspected that if half of it was true then she won't be able to help.

"If that officer can be trusted." Faylin stated simply.

"He can."

Her look turned to a plead. "Please. Keep this between you and me as much as you can. I trust you with sensitive information." She knew more, but kept it to herself. Turning from him, she stood and walked over to the window, glancing out to the stars. A far away look now etched itself across her delicate features. Being here was hard, for more reason than one.

He still had her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

"No sweat." That sly grin again. "I'll do my best. I hope the battle's aftermath won't cause any delays."

He was close, a little to much so for comfort. A sudden swell of longing erupted in her as his presence assaulted her. Lifting her eyes up to the ceiling, Faylin cursed out loud. "If only." Taking a step back, her voice grew small as her eyes locked onto his. "Thank you....so much."

Her 'Panther' simply nodded in acknowledgment.

"I........." Her mouth closed, her gaze averted to the floor, a moment of familiar silence passed between them. With her eyes still to the floor, she muttered. "I'm glad to see you safe. I was, worried about you."

Saul's face softened. "You know me, Fay. I keep myself safe. I'm glad to see you're OK, too. I understood you were on the planet when the first battle took place..."

That damned silence was back, it's affect on the atmosphere between them still the same, even if Saul did not want to admit it. The match started the fire in her soul yet again. It was back, along with the iron will to finish what she started a few short years ago. Resolve hit her square in her heart. Turning unexpectedly, she almost ran into his chest. The anger flared up at his coolness. It was as if all the passion between them had died. He kept his emotions so well hidden, at times it truly did scare her to near death. She wanted the bud of the flower that used to be them burst forth into bloom, even if for one night, consequences be damned.

"Saul........damn it!" Faylin took a steady step towards him. "Do you still feel?" Her hands shot up to his face, cupping it with force. Inwardly, her world was spinning. "Saul! I still.........."

Her eyes, flashed with intensity, the sudden explosion of heat she created filled the room. She felt warm, so much so that she narrowed her gaze dangerously at him. Faylin still had her hands on his face. Moving them down to his shoulders, she shook him as best as she could.

"Remember! Remember us? Remember what we had????" She gasped for breath. "Do you?"

"Fay Fay--"

"Remember this?" McAlister put her hands on his chest, pushing him back to the wall. "Remember........." She shoved him once forcefully, and then held her hands against him. The fight was stronger now, the passion back, just for once as she held her gaze against his. Grabbing his hands, she forced them up. She leaned all her body weight against him, praying that he felt every succulent curve of her body, hoping that it made him remember. The deep determination on her face grew as her breathing became rapid. "Just one Saul....one for old time sake......"

Without pause, she attacked him with her lips. No softness needed. Words ceased as she attempted the best she could to sway his intentions. She felt nothing from him...it was as if he still had his blasted 'sack of secrets' under his arm. Her arms fell her her side, her lips parted his, the lost look in her eyes presented themselves as they clouded over in pain.

"I remember, Fay-Fay." He told her dryly, "As I'm sure every other man you've been with since you left my flat on Earth that day remembers. I think I know why YOU remembered, but you'll just hate me if I say it. Think of it, though."

"I had no choice but to leave Saul. It was not in my hands. I had orders....specifically that needed followed. As much as I........damn......" The words just wouldn't come out. They were there, and as desperately as she wanted to tell him now, the way she wanted to tell him then, the simple fact was that it wouldn't matter.

Saul shrugged. "But it's OK, Fay-Fay. I... I knew it would come, eventually. I would bore you, and you would go and grab yourself a new toy."

"If I had my choice, I would have stayed with you. The only way that was going to happen would be if I left Starfleet. And even then, it would have been too dangerous to do so. There were things you didn't know....even if your abilities are 'awesome'."

Saul wasn't sure which abilities she referred to. His male ego didn't blind him enough to think that he was the best bed partner Faylin experimented with.

"Look." She said, "We both had things in our past that we can't talk about. Okay? Just know....I never said what I wanted to say to you." The past had a way of popping back up when something was unsaid or unsettled, and Fay was tired of fighting the past the way she had been for so long. "Saul....I loved you. Part of me...well, part of me still does in a morbid way---"

"Unpredictable" - part II

Lt. Saul Bental
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galaxy

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG
USS Galaxy

*** Saul Bental's quarters ***

"Look.", Faylin McAlister said, "We both had things in our past that we can't talk about. Okay? Just know....I never said what I wanted to say to you." The past had a way of popping back up when something was unsaid or unsettled, and Fay was tired of fighting the past the way she had been for so long. "Saul....I loved you. Part of me...well, part of me still does in a morbid way. I just had to get that off my chest. It's obvious, that what you felt, wasn't as great as what I felt....but, for what it's worth, I thought you should know."

"Fay, don't toy with me." He said all of the sudden. "You talked about what we had... we had sex. Perhaps time makes you look at it differently, or maybe it's the 'what if's'. But--"

He stopped. This was just wrong. A woman just told him she loved him and still does. Even if in the matters of heart she was the sleek merchant and he was the wide-eyed, easy to fool customer - she didn't deserve such a treatment.

That's why he didn't tell her that he suspected she got nostalgic because of Olivia's death.

"Forget it." He shook his head. "I appreciate what you say. I still care about you, and there's nothing morbid to it. Just... don't spoil it by trying to turn me into a toyboy. I won't have it."

"This general 'idea' that everyone has concerning me having a long list of 'toys', is ludicrist Saul. You know it. You know why I left.....the job I had was very big.....you know what I did, and you accepted it. What I still do when called upon. More than ninty percent of those 'toys' you thought I left you for...they were hits. I had to get close enough to get the information I needed and then left. It wasn't true with you, however, I can see how you would think that it would be."

Saul simply nodded, but she knew it wasn't out of understanding.

"I didn't want to go Saul. I'm sorry… I'm angry that your perception of me is otherwise. My end goal wasn't to hurt you....it was to have you for as long as you wanted me. However...no matter how much I argued about the assignment, they wanted me. I couldn't say no. Do you honestly think that the results of the trial would have been the same if you had another attorney? No.....not in the least. You'd be sitting on your butt on some penal colony for the rest of your life."

"I know that, Fay-Fay." Saul replied. Perhaps not a penal colony, but if Faylin had lost and they had kicked him out of SFI, they would probably mess up with his brain beforehand and he would defect long before something like that happened. "But do you HONESTLY think you would stay for months with me? Years? If anyone would have asked you to remain for so long with him right now, would you?"

"Yes, I honestly do." She paused, and continued.

"You are the only person who knows what I do.....I trust you with that information. And, that takes a lot. My life is never easy, and I can never fully get close to someone, without the threat of being pulled away....just like I was with you. Now, though, I've finally been able to get somewhere that I won't leave Saul. I may be pulled away from the ship for a while, but I'll always come back. I didn't say that the last time...I just left, without an explanation to you. For that I'm sorry. Time wouldn't permit me. Things needed 'taken care of' then and there. I longed to tell you....Saul....you have to believe me."

"I believe you, about the ship." Saul replied. "The Galaxy DOES have a tendency to make people go back."

Faylin lowered her head, the persistent memories of the past kept nagging her to ask the question she wanted to ask. "Saul?"

"Huh?"

"I guess that there really is no slightest chance...of....us?" Faylin moved over yet again to the window, stepping over something that caught her attention. Leaning down, she brought up a stray picture that had released itself from somewhere. A gentle look crossed her face, softening it, revealing the woman that he first found himself attracted to. "You kept this?"

"No." His response surprised her. "I travel light. But I did replicate a handful of pictures I had backed up, and this was one of them."

"I see." She stated quietly, placing the picture on a small stand.

He decided not to evade her earlier question. "You know I had feelings for you, Fay. You're intelligent, you're hot, you're free-spirited, and you don't go around mumbling about 'Sakaria' or 'Christianity'." It was a good thing Nara and Bran weren't around. "But while I had feelings, I had no illusions. And to be honest, with all the things going out in my life, I don't want anyone to be near me. Nara is just plain stupid for carrying on, and I'm too selfish to send her away."

"Saul....you said a little bit ago that you still care for me, yet now....you just said you had feelings. Which is it?"

"Fay-Fay, please don't be a lawyer and twist my words."

"I really wish you would wake up....it's like your dead." She walked over, placing her hands lightly on his face. "Where are you? Where's Saul?"

"Saul Bental is in his senior officer's quarters." Came the irritating reply.

"Well, we haven't lost our sense of sarcasm, have we?" Faylin retorted before speaking yet again. "Don't you see? I want to be near you....don't push me away now. We.....can have what we had.....Saul....I've missed you."

He turned his back on her. He never turned his back on her. "No, Fay. I have too much to lose, and the gains are too risky. And didn't you hear anything I said? You don't want to be near me. No one should. But you're trying because you can. Admit it, Fay. I'm just a difficult target. If I'd drop my cloths and make love to you right now, you'll be back to your regular lay in the morning, and use this to fuel some more passion or jealousness. Am I right?"

"No." She dropped her head, her resolve slipping right before his eyes as Faylin saw him turn his back. 'That's never happened before.' She thought with a confused look on her face. "That's not true Panther. If you did that, I'd be shocked as hell with how distant you are acting.....but then, we would have something. As much as I want to hold you and feel you Saul, it's not a one sided thing. You have to want it to, and you don't from what you are saying." Faylin paused, her mouth open slightly. "I want to be near you, and I'm not just no one Saul. I'm Fay-Fay." She came around to the other side of him, looking him straight in the eyes. "I'm Fay-Fay. I'm here, and I'm yours for however long you want me. Not for however long I want you, I'll always want and need you. Do you want, and need me Saul?"

He remained silent, his face unreadable. Faylin expelled a breath. Inwardly, she knew this was going to be hard, but she needed to give it a go one last time before she closed the book permanently on having a lasting relationship with Panther. "Okay, so we've established that 1, you did having feelings for me, and still do to some extent. Two, I had feelings for you back then, and do now. Three. I've admitted that I want something lasting with you, and not a fling. Four. You don't want anyone to be around you, because your actually a chicken who won't take a chance on a good thing if it came up and bit you in the ass. And Five, you have a woman in front of you who it hot and independant, yet you -compromise- yourself and see another woman who drags you down with her issues." Faylin paused.

"That woman actually confided you with her darkest secret." Saul finally spoke. "And look what you're trying to do to her. No, Fay-Fay; You byte. Look how you try to sway me, to manipulate me, to bring me to your arms. You're a strong player, and it's admirable; But I won't survive having you again, Fay-Fay; Frankly, you'll drive me insane."

"Fine. Saul. I don't know what else to say or do. You obviously are willing to throw away the potential for something great due to you own selfishness. Be with Nara, be bored to tears, forget what we had, forget the passionate nights and days....the way we drove each other crazy with just a look. That's not my problem if you don't want that in your life everyday......and night." Faylin cut him a totally raw look. "But, when you're in bed with her, when you close your eyes to kiss her....I know that it's not her face your going to see, it's mine. When you're making love to her, I'm the one that's going to be pinned below you. When you're talking to her, when you sit and do your daily tasks, I'm there....arn't I? Why not, make it me in reality?"

"If it helps you sleep at night." Saul said coldly.

"You...." She stated pinning her index finger to his chest. "Are the

most infuriating man I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He allowed a thin smile to appear.

Faylin steeled her gaze against him, swallowing the immediate urge to attack him once more. "Can you give me the chip back please? I'll find someone else to help me.....and not bother you again, for anything Saul. Is that how you want it?"

"What I want is--" What did he want, really? There were so many things. He did want to strip her cloths off her, throw her on the couch, and make her scream with pleasure and wild joy. He also wanted that bloody third pip, and he wanted her to go away and not turn him to a puppet like she tried to do with Jonas, and he wanted a chilly glass of orange juice. He'd give that third pip for a glance of orange juice.

And he wanted everything undone with Chava, and he wanted to nail McCauley, and he wanted Andrus to just disappear. And he wanted Nara to get over all of her said issues, from her Sakarian patriotism to her rape.

And he wanted--

His thoughts focused on the Agenda. The mental black hole, which kept pulling him back.

"I'll handle the chip." He found himself saying. "For Olivia's sakes."

"Um, no. I'll take it back and handle it." She held out her hand, determination etched across her face. "Thank you." Taking the chip, she turned and went to exit. Her resolve was back, with this little altercation. Faylin had learned that the past needed to be left in the past. Memories of chemistry and passion were just that, memories. In a strange way, perhaps her job knew more than she did back then. A match that tends to burn brightly, also dies out just as quickly. Although she still held an attraction for him, she really did not know who he was any longer. Faylin didn't have the strength, or the resolve to attempt to find out. Not with so many people and things standing in the way. She turned towards him once more, saying nothing except with her eyes. Leaving him yet again, was easier this time.

"World's Finest, Part 8: Gently Down the Stream"

Elissa Skylark
Stranger From a Distant Planet

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Terror of the Night

= The Ocean =

Under the brutal glare of a fading sun, in the shadows of a freshly weeping sky, on the open sea, men broke.

They fell upon Aerv like the ocean waves on a rocky shore - and like so many waves, they broke.

The peaceful smell of the water all around them, pouring as it was from the suddenly open sky, was drowned out by the thick, metallic scent of flowing blood. Bones snapped as thunder roared, and one man stood against nine, with an unnatural fury that echoed of the merciless vengeance of god himself.

Like a monstrous devil, Aerv fell upon them, the black hand of death itself. In this moment, when his heart was afraid it would burst venom, his movements were calculated, precise and exact. His youth had been little more than a long exercise in how to kill - and it all came back to him, every movement, every step, fueled by a vile hatred that he had not known himself capable of.... He went from punch to punch, kick to kick, flawlessly, driven by memories he had not had moments before. His father had taught him the llaekh-ae'rl - the Laughing Murder - and though Aerv had promised himself never to use that deadly art, this was now a day for broken kisses, lost possibilites and shattered hope.

In that moment, Aerv tr'Ahalaen was truly Rihannsu - pure thought and pure passion - defiant life in the face of death, death unto death itself.

lhi kveinn. The Nine Lances.

kuhaos kinaen. The Last Oath.

khasei khellian. The Weeping Hunter.

iurret jhimn. The Silent Serpent.

Jaws snapped. Lungs burst. Men broke.

Then finally he stood alone, nine men scattered around him like so many broken toys, facing the man who had killed Elissa. Two Face. Two Face who was cowering before him, begging for mercy, but....

"There is no mercy for those who kill the flowers that defy autumn,"

tr'Ahalaen snarled, his voice raw.

And then Aerv struck him.

And then he struck him again.

And again.

And again.

Punched after punch, strike after strike rained down upon Two Face.

The bones in his face began to snap. He wept and screamed, yet knew that Aerv would not stop until his hands finally hit the ground.

And finally, his cries were met with an answer from below. The men crawled behind him, voices strained and showing fear, no longer directed at the Bat, but the boat's wake. Something was happening.

Something meriting greater attention than his vengeance.

She pierced the water's surface like a blade through flesh, leaping from the depths as if flung from Tartarus' gates by the three Fates themselves.

When she landed, metal groaned and men tumbled forward. The boat's nose ascended as the force of her impact drove it down. Crates tumbled into the ocean's maw and those who could held on to the rails for dear life. Aerv staggered back, but did not lose his footing. Two-Face slid, limp and defeated. The boat's nose slammed back into the water, and more men tumbled off the far end.

Kneeling and face down, her wet hair fell flat around her face. Elissa breathed deeply, her back rising and falling, and she slowly stood in the rain, like the weight of the world was on her back.

She looked at him as a stranger would, with a certain unknowing displeasure. Distant and cold. Stepping between Batman and his victim, Supergirl spoke plainly. "Consider us even." She crossed her arms and stared down her nose at the even more horribly disfigured criminal. "Tell me where you were headed with this ship."

"That," he said, coughing and spitting blood, "is up to fate to decide." He fumbled into his pockets with mangled fingers and pulled out a coin. She plucked it out of his hands and studied it. A scar on one face of it pretty much spelled everthing out to her. She smiled knowingly at Two Face, closed her fist tightly, and dropped it on his lap in a ball.

He slumped back, too weak to even give his psychosis fuel. "Coast City."

"Thank you." She turned, and looked at Batman. Her expression was muted and distant. She beckoned with a nod and walked across the boat until they were reasonably far away from prying ears. "I thought there was something familiar about you, but I don't know you. Not really.

Something in you scares me to death. Those men... every wound you inflicted, every judgment passed."

She shook her head and stared at the ground for a long moment, looking for the words. He was far better with them than she, but it had to come out right. Had to sound right to her ears. He'd lost it. Was that the measure of her worth to him? Finally, the words broke. "You did that because of me?" She couldn't help but sneer a little. "What happened to...rising above it all?"

His unreadable dark eyes met her weltering, bright gaze. Was he crying behind his mask or was it the rain? There was only one soul who could have answered that; he simply said, in a weary, sad whisper....

"I fell."

And then he turned away from her, hurt by her distance, ashamed of himself, and withdrew into the shadows. Not Batman, but the unshakable, storied, Aerv tr'Ahalaen. A man broken....

= End Log =

"Evacuation."

Man'darr
Miranda

Dr. Mathieson
Galaxy

Branwen
Galaxy

Branwen moaned, she had lost consciousness again, and her fever was high. She was sweating, and tossing and turning on the bed.  In doing so she hurt herself by aggravating the badly set broken bones and bruised ribs.

"You must lay still," Man'darr said.  Suddenly the ground shook with the sound of a nearby explosion.  Man'darr rushed to see if they were under attack and saw the energy beam strike an area not too far away, followed by an emense explosion that again rocked the ground.  "Looks like Federation Phasers.  I believe the Fleet has returned, but we need to get her out of here, doctor."

"What.." Branwen opened her eyes, only half lucid.

The Romulan phisician bent over the Marine and felt her for ehead and looked into Branwen's dialated eyes.  "She's getting weaker.  The antibiotics are not working as well as I had hoped - her lymphatic system is shutting down, and th e infectio n's spreading to her other organs."  She looked up a the looming Capellan.  "In her condition, moving her over rough terrain will kill her.  We need to transport her to a starship or secure a hover-vehicle to move her to a medical facility."

"With a battle going on above us, I doubt anyone will be able to lower their shields to beam us aboard.  We should move her to a safer location before one of those phasers strike this area.  I will return soon."  Man'darr rushed outside beofre the doctor could respond to look for a hover vehicle to transport Branwen with.  Most of the surrounding area was a wasteland to say the least--with destroyed buildings and debris littering what remained of the roads.

===

Man'darr had traveled a block when he finally spotted a damaged Romulan Ground Cargo Hover Transport Vehicle.  The light-green vehicle was banged up badly from debris and a part of Man'darr w ondered if it would even operate as he climbed into the cab and looked over the instruments.  "Lets see..."  Man'darr located the button marked "Start" in Rihannsu and pressed it.  The engine struggled and died as Man'darr pressed the button again and again, each time failing to start.  "Start damn you!" Man'darr roared in frustration as he pounded the button with his fist.  To his surprise, the vehicle started up and lifted off the ground.  Man'darr immediately floored the accelerator and almost im mediately heard a cry of an animal as a furry animal grappled hi s face.  He could feel its tiny claws puncturing into his skin.  Man'darr immediately grabbed the animal, causing thr small animal to break its grip.  Man'darr looked at the ani mal who hissed at him in reponse.  "Stupid cat!  Where did you come from?"  Man'daar asked as he tossed the animal into a cargo container and locking it, though a part of him wanted to toss it out of the speeding vehicle.

He then arrived at the hospital and left the hover vehicle running as he entered the hospital.  More phasers struck the ground nearby.

===

Upon loading Branwen into the damaged cargo truck, Man'darr sped off as fast as the vehicle could travel.  The truck's engine whined as it strained to keep the vehicle at 128 KPH (80 MPH) as it sped though the devestated city.  Man'darr barely saw the Hydran soldier as he stepped out from behind a building.  The last thing the Hydran saw was the truck speeding directly in his direction.  Less than a half-second later,  the hover cargo truck impacted the Hydran, instantly shattering his skeletal system and ripping into the flesh as the body was forced down under the vehicle as it passed over.  Tha mangled body rolled a few times before coming to a hault.  Man'darr checked the side mir ror as he sped on.  'Ewwww, road kill,' Man'darr thought with an evil grin, turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

A few hours later, Man'darr had managed to get Branwen aboard the Galaxy and in its sickbay due to meeting up with Marine reinforcements from the fleet.  The large capellan stood out with his dirty and bloodied bandage and bare chest.

===

"Well, well, well - if it 'aint Lieutenant London", the gravelley voice chimed.  "An' yer in to condition t' hug me lungs out - I'm 'urt, lass.  We'll jus' have t' work on gettin' that fine Welsh constitution o' yers up an' runnin.  Jus' lay still, an' well take a peek at yer bits an' pieces."

She could see bright lights above her.  Branwen smiled, but this was probably what happened when you went to heaven.  Peaceful, the only thing missing was the heavenly music and loved ones waiting for her.  Maybe that would come later.

But then somehow she heard a familiar voice.  Branwen tried to focus.  Could God sound like Dr Mathieson?

"Doc...?"  She croaked.

"At's right, lass", the voice rumbled, slightly d istorted by a high pitched humming sound floading around the Marine's head..  "Kindly Doctor Math - still around an' patchin' up wot needs fixin'.  Like yer ribs.  An' yer spleen...an' yer lymphatic system.... Chris London - yer a mess!  Wot'cher been up to, eh?"

Consciousness was fading again, but she tried to hang on.  "My... job.

Man'darr watched the doctor begin to work on Branwen.  "I need to go to the Miranda and let them know I am still alive before they declare me dead or MIA.  Let me know when she is better, doctor,"  Man'darr headed out of the door of sickbay.

"Dar!" She called after him weakly.

Man'darr stopped mid-stride and turned around, re-entering sickbay.  "What is it?" he asked, approaching her.

"I love you. Come back soon." She was trying not to cry.

Ensign Artim Shivar - Science Officer- Biology

"Scars of War"

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

<<Science Lab 6 - Two Days after Liberation>>

It was all over, or that's what Artim thought as he settled in back in his lab. All the fighting, battles, and generally being on high alert for this long made a scientist long to get back to his job, science. For the last few months Artim had been performing some metabolic experiments on a wide variety of microorganisms used in new water purification techniques. The battle, and more lack of attention given that Artim had been assigned a variety of battle related duties had caused many of his experiments to be ruined. However he didn't seem to mind having to start them over. Time was something he seemed to have plenty of.

He had just finished loading a series of sample tubes and was on his way to the incubator when the comm unit chirped to life with the notification of an incoming message. He glanced over at the nearby terminal to see whether it was something he wanted to take. When he recognized the source code as being on Romulus, specifically the area where Valera's relatives lived, he nearly dropped the samples scrambling over to turn on the comm. When he did the face of an older looking Romulan man appeared on the screen with a sad expression on his face.

"Ensign Shivar I presume?" , the man said in a reserved tone.

"Most just call me Artim, but yes, I've been called that. I'm guessing you're one of Valera's relatives.", Artim replied, knowing Valera was one of the few people that called him at all by his last name.

The Romulan nodded in response, "Her uncle, Laris. I should probably get straight to the point, it will probably be easier for both of us this way. Valera...was killed." when the last word came out of the man's mouth it was clear that the man was fighting back tears and losing the fight. Artim on the other hand shot from his usual quiet calm to a strained look of pain. The words had hit him like a phaser blast in the chest and quite literally threw him back into the nearby chair. He thought he'd prepared himself for such news but, well, this was one of those things you could never really prepare for. As soon as he could get up the ability to speak, Artim said meekly in a voice more befitting a person his physical age asking about a parent's death

"H...how?"

"She was posted to the Warbird Tarsus during the intial fighting. She was wounded in the attack, but the Tarsus was one of the ships that made it away. She succumbed to her wounds a few days later. It was only this morning that we heard anything. She wanted you to be told..."

Artim leaned back and tried to absorb the news. It didn't seem unusual that it took her family a long time to hear about her death. It was still a blow.

"At least it was a good death", that was all Artim could say, still sounding more like a 10 year old then one who had lived for four centuries. A tear streamed down the Romulan's face as he continued.

"She did leave most of her estate to you. I'll have the details transmitted to you as soon as we can piece all the records together. There were also some things she left with us she wanted you to have. I'll have them beamed aboard. Her funeral will be in two days..."

"I don't do funerals, I've been to more then one person ever should", Artim interrupted before the invitation came. "I apologize, but I can't be there."

"I understand, you've been through alot. You need time to yourself, but don't hesitate to call if you need to talk."

Artim merely nodded, keyed in the transport cooridinates, and keyed off the comm.

"Coffee: The Exit Gateway Drug"

Lt. (jg) Naranda Sol Roswell
2nd Lieutenant Steven Jonas

*****Ten Forward, USS Galaxy*****

Orange Juice. Fruit-flavored-no-nutritional-value-whatsoever-drink. Water.

Carbonated beverages! Coffee! COFFEE!

Nara's brain screamed in excitment as a chorus of hallelujahs silently played. It had been seriously depressed without the synthenol. (Not to mention the short stent of REAL, so sweet, alcohol.) Nara tried everything to try to get herself some kind of drink that she liked so much, synthenol would be unneeded.

It's not as easy as one would think.

Until she remembered caffiene. Caffiene was a drug. Not as damaging as alcohol, but a drug. It would be a suitable substitute.

Nara drank these things anyway. It's an insomniac's right. Lots of caffiene.

She just drank MORE of it now.

She formed another addiction, but this one did nothing more than kill her credits.

George looked over at the newest member of their little group, sitting across from him. The lithe Bajoran smiled back. She hardly knew anyone on the ship, having just transferred to the Galaxy and had found a few people, with the inklings of a small club that catered to her foremost desire; to act.

With no name and little in the way of anything, the quartet of wannabe actors were deciding what they were going to produce for the crew. And it had come down to Krellick's Seven Warriors of the House of T'Pek or Surin's Vulcan play about love and death. She didn't mind which way the others decided. She was just glad that she had found some friends who followed her passion.

George took a sip of his drink. "James, did you hear about the drunken marine?"

James shook his head, looking at each of the others to see if any of them had heard.

George continued, "He came in here last night, drunk out of his skull. Going on about how his woman had left him, and didn't want him back. The bartender had to throw him out. A lieutenant, named Johns, or James or something like that."

Nara overheard the young people and feeling in a bit of a good mood for deciding coffee's suitablity as a substitute, she smirked and spoke to them without looking at them, "Sounds like a good comedy. Maybe you should do that one." She was never one for rumors.

The Bajoran looked at the young woman at the next table and then back to her group. "That's not a bad idea. But we'd need to know more about the guy and his life."

"Typical marines. They always screw up." James smirked.

"Yeah, never seen anyone that drunk before. And from the looks of it, it wasn't synthehol either."

"Ah," George snapped, "I've got it. His name was Jonas."

Nara's brow furrowed and she stood very casually next to them and stated matter of factly, "I'm pretty sure people have plenty to say about a bunch of people so scared of reality, they prefer to be someone else." Her voice changed to show her disgust, "Marines save your asses. Remember that the next time the Hydrans or some other evil monster attacks."

With that, she walked out of Ten Forward.

****

Steven's Quarters

****

Steven sat on his bed, oblivious to everything around him. He had a half finished bottle of Romulan Ale in his hand and had been sculling it. It was his safety blanket, helping him forget the pains of his life. Well, that and the other empty bottles that lay scattered about his floor.

Taking a huge drink from the bottle, he never heard the door hiss open and Nara walk in.

"Did you mute your buzzer or something?" She walked in figuring to find him.

Not many people left their doors unlocked if they weren't there.

"Eh, what buzzer?" Steven asked quizzically, as he looked up from his bottle. He hadn't heard any buzzer, just a nagging sound in his ear. "Hey Nara," he slurred. "You wants a drink?"

She looked at the bottle a long moment, but shook her head, "No. I found something else. Glory be to coffee." She stated it flatly as she watched him, "Is she even worth this?"

"I love her" he said, before taking another sip. "but she doesn't. This lets me forget her, up here." He tapped the side of his head, a little harder than he anticipated, and found himself falling to the floor in a heap, azure liquid spilling all over himself.

Nara sighed. Last time she saw someone so incapacitated was the first time she met Dhani. She was not a coddler and he was a marine. So she'd treat him like one. "Get the hell up, Jonas!"

Steven started at the sudden loud voice, openening bleary eyes to see Nara's cross looking expression as she stared down at him. Using the bed as a prop, he rose to his feet, wobbly as they were.

"We have enough problems around here without some drunk marine!"

"I haven't seen any drunk marines" Steven replied, "But if I stop, I'll not stop thinking about her. And then I'll never get any work done at all" He waved a finger about indicating that he had made a good point. Well it was a good point to him anyway.

"You're STILL thinking of her and you're hardly in any position to get any work done!"

"No I'm not. I'm thinking about... no I'm not thinking about her." As much as he wanted to, he still couldn't get her out of his head. But then again, Nara was stopping him from getting in some quality drinking time. "Look, I'll give it up. Here take the bottle." he said, figguring that was the quickest way to get her out of his quarters.

Nara shoved it back at him, "Don't give it to me! I'm fighting to stop drinking the stuff myself! I want to see you pour it down a sink or put it in the recycler."

"Fine." He said, trying to stand again. Walking on shaky feet, with a little assistance from the wall, his desk and another wall, he made it to the replicator. He placed the bottle upon the shiny surface and pressed the recycle button, watching it shimmer away. "Coffee, black" Steven called out to the replicator.

Nara nodded, "Good. Coffee is the natural drug of the gods."

"We can hope so." He said with a smile. "And I suppose I should go see Bran about the missed meeting that was scheduled for today."

Nara nodded, "Maybe so. Do you need to talk?"

Steven shook his head. "Na. I'm just gonna drink my coffee, talk to Bran and get a good night's sleep."

"Alright. Good night."

"Have a good evening. And don't worry. I'll be fine."

As she walked out the door, she muttered, "Yea right." No one was THAT naive. But who was she to stop him if he was desperate enough to lie?

The moment she was gone, he popped open his footlocker and pulled out another bottle of Romulan ale. He'd managed to get some aboard in the confusion after the war and he only had a couple of bottles left. Cracking it open, he took a long refreshing swig of the potent liquid.

"Pushing Buttons"

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG

Lt. Naranda Sol Roswell
Engineer

Location: JAG offices - Faylin's Office

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

The conversation with Saul had been odd, to say the least. It complexed her a tad, but not so much as to deter her from the incoming information that she had concerning a break in a case back at HQ in San Fran. Taking a sip of her beverage, she looked up as she heard the chime sound.

Nara was rubbing the bridge of her nose as she left Jonas' quarters. It was a freakin soap opera. She needed to see Faylin. For several reasons and likely Nara shouldn't see Faylin until the thoughts were clearer. So, here she stood at the woman's door.

"Hello Nara......" Her eyebrows knitted, the inside of her starting to flip cartwheels. 'Shit!' She thought inwardly.

"Hi...." The awkwardness hung thick in the air.

"Uhhhh, hi? Take a seat." Faylin paused, bringing her index finger up and started tracing the right wing of the crystal dragon on the edge of her desk. "This is personal, isn't it?"

Nara sat reluctantly. "I'm not sure." She watched Faylin, "Since you told me about you and Saul, I've been concerned about something. I don't mean to offend, but, can you still take my case?"

Inwardly sighing for the moment, she offered a smile. "Yes, of course. I am able to separate my personal life from my duty life."

Nara nodded. "I trust you then."

Faylin thought. 'Erm...bad idea lady.'

Nara looked at the edge of the desk, wondering if she should stick her nose in Faylin's and Jonas's business.

"That's good." 'But if you really knew.' Faylin thought. She was very pleased that Nara did not have any telepathic abilities that Faylin knew of, or more that just words would be flying around her office.

"I.." She sighed, "I don't mean to poke my nose in, but I must tell you I found Jonas in a miserable state. He says he loves you. My guess is when a man can say that when the woman isn't around, it's pretty meaningful." Nara stood.

Faylin suppressed a chuckle, Saul's words filling her mind yet again.

Instead, her face instantly fell downwards. "Oh...so he's recruited you too I take it?" Faylin's voice grew even darker than the features on her face.

"His little 'campaign' for my affection is not winning my vote. So, next you see him, tell him I'm not interested in his love politics."

"Recruited? Hardly. I just heard some rookie ensigns talking about him, so I went to check on him. You have a past with my boyfriend. You have a past with a new friend. You're covering my case. As I see it, you're part of my life. I'm not looking to get chummy, but I felt it my duty to inform you of something that is important to you. I'm not asking you to go back to him.

I just felt the information needed to be given."

"Well now, Nara. You have no clue what is important to me, and what is not.

You thought wrong. What Jonas does in his time, is none of my concern.

By the way.....what new friend are you referring to?"

Nara furrowed her brows for a moment. "Jonas. I don't go check in on random people."

"Ah...I see." Faylin stood, coming around the side of her desk, sitting on it in a lackadaisical manner. "Like I said, I keep personal matters personal, and duty matters duty. I have the skills to more than adequately represent your best interest in this situation of yours. However, for future reference, it's best that we leave personal opinions and thoughts to ourselves. Nara, I'm not your friend, and likely I will never be so. I'm your JAG officer, which means, if you are in assistance of a bull dog attorney, I'm here. If you are in need of a friend, go talk to Jonas."

"As I said, I wasn't looking to get chummy. Just relaying information. I was reluctant to do so. Apparently for good reason." Nara pursed her lips from the cutting remarks she wanted to say.

Clapping her hands together, Faylin spoke. "Fantastic, we are clear on the terms." Reaching around her desk, she took another drink of her tea. Her manner was cool, downright chilly towards the woman. "Anything else?

Personal or non?" She threw out the challenge, to see if the woman beside her would bite the worm on the end of the pole.

"If we got personal, I fear I'd end up being sorely tempted to do something that would make getting a full promotion to Lt. likely impossible. So, maybe keep things professional. Have you heard anything from San Francisco?"

"Oh really?" Faylin growled with a slight smirk to her mouth. "I'd like to see you try." Straightening her posture to a rigid stance, she continued.

"Anyway, no. I've sent the initial report...but it does take time to get a response. Red tape still exists in this century."

"Yes, it is so unfortunately. However, I will try my best to speed things along." Lie, she thought simply. "So, I sense a little tension Nara.

Let's cut the Cardassian cattle crap shall we and get on to why you are really here."

Nara raised an eyebrow and smirked a bit cynically. "Wow. I don't know.

You have an interesting reputation. I trust you to separate things, but I wonder if we can work together."

"An interesting reputation. I've never quite heard it phrased like that.

Usually, I'm called a bitch, the Devil's mistress, Bathsheba, or Jezebel, and my favorite....Dragon. I think that's it. So, care to elaborate on what you believe my interesting reputation is?" Faylin wrinkled up her nose and spoke in a whisper. "I'd really like to know."

Nara shrugged. "I understand your hurting. I even understand taking it out on other people. I really just want to know one thing. Should I take your bitchiness towards me personally, or is it just your personality for everyone?"

"Oh." Faylin slightly tilted her head to the side. "You, my little engineer, do not need to worry about me. By the way, you have no clue about me, so back off. What you've heard, you've picked up from a Marine who is the major cause of my 'hurting'. So, when you become a counselor, feel free to stick your pert nose into places it does not belong. Until that time, spare me your thoughts on my hurting. You, have no freakin clue lady."

"That wasn't my question."

"I'm a bitch all around...so, don't take it personally." She offered a sly grin, much like Bental's. "Or do, I really don't care."

"Did you always have such a charming disposition?"

Her smile grew slightly larger. "Actually, now that I think about it....you'd have to ask Panther on that one."

"Panther?"

Her lips pursed as her eyes danced. "Saul." Faylin's head lightly lifted up as she said his name.

"Ah. He has a nickname for me, but I have yet to have one for him." Nara seemed completely unphased.

"Good for you."

Nara furrowed her brow yet again, in amused confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Faylin slowed her speech a touch. "I said....good for you. I'm happy he has a nickname for you. Something cute, funny, bubbly...totally sickening to normal people I'm sure."

Nara shrugged, "Just a nickname he picked up because most of the people on my home planet call me that." Nara gulped, realizing how embarrassing this could be. She hoped the obvious question would go unasked.

No luck in that. "Awwww." The JAG's face dead panned. "What is it?"

Nara sighed. "Princess. Just a bad translation is all."

"And all the people on your planet call you that? Should I bow?" She paused. "By the way, we dragons have a tendency to eat princess's." She glanced over to her crystal and smiled sinisterly.

Nara matched the smile. "Good thing I'm not really a princess."

"Too bad. I was getting hungry." Faylin shrugged.

"So, I suppose you like being called Dragon?"

"In not so many words. But I find it...so...bland."

Nara nodded. "You're right. It's not evil enough to suite you."

"Why, I take that as a compliment Nara."

Nara simply nodded. At least they were on some workable level. Passive aggression, snide retorts. This was much better than hidden awkwardness.

Open hostility was better.

"So, now that I don't have a boyfriend, are you worried that I might steal Saul back?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you TRIED. Worried he would fall under your seductions? Hardly." Problem being, Nara was halfway lying through her teeth.

"Whoa, okay. Sensing a tad bit of hostility there." Waving it off, she smiled. "Competition is quite healthy. Don't you agree?"

Nara looked at her squarely, "I believe he's done with you. I don't think he liked the outburst in ten forward. I rather thought it tacky myself."

"Oh, this coming from you? The queen of etiquette? Or should I say...synthenol."

"At least I see where I fail and try to fix it. Hell, I'm trying to get Jonas off the stuff cuz you broke his damn heart."

"Aw...isn't that sweet. Spare me the love fest for Jonas Nara."

"Well someone sure needs to! God's sake, Faylin! Do you INTEND to alienate everyone?"

"No, not everyone....In fact...I can think of one in particular...that I'll never alienate. And, it's not you sweetie." She stated with a hiss.

"Who?"

"You honestly can not tell me you are that naive!"

"Saul?"

"No, my dead father. Of course Saul." She stated sarcastically.

"Well...then....good." Nara was a loss for words.

Faylin arched an eyebrow. It couldn't be this easy, could it? That didn't have the desired affect she wanted. Darn. The officer chose to give silence a moment, while Nara obviously thought of something else to blast her with, then chose to take the hand. "So, you like him? Saul?"

"I dare to say I love him."

Her eyes grew wide as she attempted to swallow the tea that wanted to escape her mouth out of shock. "Have you told him yet?"

"Of course."

"Ah...okay." She shook her head to level herself from the shock she felt.

That, after she told him...........wow. Faylin blinked several times before she held her gaze steady against Nara's. She cringed. Faylin had told him that she still loved him. Certainly, that had to create some sort of inner

conflict in the man. "How did he take that? You telling him that you

loved him?"

Nara held her gaze and spoke slowly and steadily, "None. of. your.damned.

business."

"That good? Wow. I thought he would have been more receptive Nara. It's not everyday that a man has a beautiful woman tell him that she loves him."

'Let alone two.' Faylin spoke as plainly as she did. "Then again, he is Saul."

Nara let the passing taunt pass. She had been in a more testing situation with Branwen. She had gone through it with someone she called a friend before she was sure how Saul felt about her. But she knew now and she knew Saul didn't quite see Faylin however Faylin wanted him to.

So she smirked, "In fact, he told me he loved me first." He had actually whispered something about thinking he loved her as they lay together in a cave in Sakaria. It could had been no more than hormones talking from an unrequited sexual drive. But the words proved themselves since then. And the drive no longer so unrequited.

"He makes a habit out of doing that....." Faylin grew quiet, her eyes drifted to the smooth surface of her desk. She inwardly wondered if she was getting the point across to Nara. In her opinion, the only suitable way to plant doubts into this woman's mind was to fib. One thing, Faylin McAlister was rather good at.

Nara frowned, "How dare you. You try to mar my opinion of him? My, what a manipulative bitch."

"Oh? Am I? I had no clue." Her expression was stoic as she fished an ice cube out of the glass and began to suck on the end of it. Pausing, Fay said,

"Nara, I'm an attorney. By nature, we are very manipulative creatures."

"Oh we both know who you are. Saul does too. And no damn shit."

"I know he does Nara." She offered no more, just a slight smug smile.

"And he's a saint for putting up with you. He's a saint for putting up with me!"

"Nara...." Her voice low and teasing. "He's no saint...believe me."

Getting her meaning, Nara met her eye to eye, "And believe me. I know as well."

"That, I highly doubt." Her eyes narrowed in a challenging manner.

"I know. I could choose to know more, but I don't."

"As your attorney, I recommend that. That information is super sensitive."

Nara smirked, "I prefer my motive to be that I trust him."

"If you wish, it's your motive. Not mine."

Nara shrugged, "A devil's saint he is then."

"A last word of advice. Nothing is as it seems Nara. Even if given the best of intentions." She stood, grabbing the padd that held the information she needed. "On that note, I leave you....I have work to do. Good day."

"No it's not." Nara smirked. Her trust in Saul was at times shaky and at times unshakable. As she left the office, she thought, ~Look at Eve.~

Her shoulders sagged somewhat as she left her office. She knew she needed to talk to someone, yet who? Faylin made a mental note to reach the counseling offices and set up an appointment with the first available counselor. Finding one that didn't know Saul, could prove to be a problem.

"World's Finest, Part 9: Traveler in the Dark"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Terror of the Night

= The Mansion =

Alfred coughed as he stepped into the library, hoping that Bruce would look up at him. He did not. For the past two days, Alfred had been trying to coax the Batman out of this room, away from this long darkness, away from the growing pile of books that surrounded his ward.

Over the years, Alfred had seen Bruce Wayne suffer through many physical injuries, and as many - if not more - emotional ones. His body always healed remarkably fast. His mind, his psyche, Bruce himself...he never healed. It was simply not in his nature. He covered up his wounds, his scars and hid them from the world. Every cut, every bruise festered and grew, eating away at his humanity, making him more Bat than man.

Always before, Alfred had been silent. It was not his place to interfere with the personal affairs of Bruce Wayne. Yet this time, clearing the emotion out of his voice, the old man called to him.

"Master Bruce?"

Aerv tr'Ahalaen looked up from the map he was studying and gave Alfred a small smile. "Yes?"

"Cognac, Master Bruce," Alfred said, "L'Esprit de Courvoisier, an especially fine vintage. I thought...."

"Thank you, Alfred."

The old man hesitated, then added, "May I, Sir?"

That was when tr'Ahalaen noticed that Alfred had bought two glasses with him. "You do not need my permission - that is ridiculous. Of course, go ahead."

"Thank you, Sir," the butler replied, pouring out a drink for each of them. Then, taking a seat across from Aerv, he asked, "Are you looking for something in particular, Master Bruce?"

"I am looking for a flaw, Alfred."

"A flaw, Sir?"

"A flaw in this world," the Romulan replied, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of the cognac offered to him. "This is very fine."

"Yes, Sir," the old man agreed, "A flaw in the world, you say?"

"No holodeck programmer is perfect. I know that this world is not real

- this is not my world. Now either this is a holodeck, or something more complicated has happened. I prefer to eliminate the simpler possibilities first. So I am looking for some small city out of place on the map, some badly written phrase in Shakespeare, a missing line in Dickens. So far...I have uncovered nothing."

"Sir...that makes no sense.... You are looking to prove that reality is not real."

"No - I already know that this reality is not real. I am just looking to prove that I am right. Anyway, it is nothing you need to worry yourself about," Aerv told him with a small chuckle, "You belong in this world."

Alfred sighed, "Master Bruce...how much of this is about Ms. Kara?"

"Alfred."

"I am an old man. I see it. I see it in the way you smile at her, Sir. I hear how often you are gentle around her...."

"My research has nothing to do with...."

"Perhaps not," the aged butler agreed, "However, you have barely said two words in as many days. That is all about her, isn't it? The fact that you won't leave this room, the fact that you surround yourself with darkness - that is all about her. Are you in love with her, Sir?"

"Love is a very powerful word, Alfred - we toss it about too easily these days."

"That is not an answer."

Aerv smiled, "No - it is not."

"If I may be so bold, Sir - well, she told me what happened...."

"She told me I scare her, Alfred."

"Some times, Sir, you scare me too."

tr'Ahalaen laughed. "I know that the darkness inside me scares her...but you know what the insane thing is? She scares me too. She scares me so much. Her innocent beauty, her pure laughter, her...it is so easy for these things, these precious things, be spoiled by the evil that is in this world. I fear for her."

"An evil you understand?"

"An evil, a part of which, I have within me. I fight fire with fire, Alfred - I try to do what is good, what is noble, but I understand the other side. I have used art and artifice, duty and family, to become more than just a man of uncontrolled passions, I have fought myself - my...greed, my lust, my fury, my.... I have tried to be a good man, Alfred."

"I know, Sir. I think you will find that she knows it too."

"Yet on that boat...."

"You thought she was dead. And that knowledge broke the cage you have built for the beast inside you. It escaped."

Aerv nodded.

"Are you in love with her, Sir?"

"That word again.... I care for her a great deal. I know she has flaws - some I have seen, some she has confessed to me. Still I...feel like - it is like when I look into her eyes, there is a light within my heart, and I feel...elevated. When I think about her, the strength goes out of my arms, and all they want to do is hold her. When I hear her voice, Alfred, it is like a gentle music that sinks into my very soul. Is that love?"

The old man laughed, "Sir...I am not sure what else it could be. It sounds like you cannot live without her."

"But I can, you know - I know that if she left me now and never returned...it would hurt, but I would survive. I know how my life would be if that were to happen. It would be a satisfactory life. And if she were to return my feelings? If she were to stay and if something could happen between us...I fear that my darkness might taint the light that lives with her."

"You know...in the province of Sindh, that is in...."

"Pakistan, yes," Aerv nodded, pointing to the map, "I know."

"It is mostly a desert. There are, however, two rivers in it. Now in a desert, Sir, a river is a most satisfactory thing indeed. In a wasteland, a fountain head of life...that is a beautiful thing.

However, these rivers are remarkable for another reason - one of them is the most clear, sparkling blue water you will ever see. The other is a murky, mysterious emerald green. When I saw them, I heard that both waters flowed into one lake. I enjoyed seeing them both, but I assure you, I would have forgotten the experience entirely after a few years. After all, who remembers rivers much?"

Alfred smiled and went on, "However, I happened upon a rather rickety old wooden bridge that went across that lake into which both these empty. What is remarkable is that neither river loses its identity - one side of the lake is green, the other is blue. In the middle of the bridge, they meet - they overlap - they touch and caress each other, always with each other - yet they remain who they always were. It is a miracle, Sir. And my point is simply this: if you love her, you have to trust that she is strong enough to see, accept and live with who you are - she must do the same. That is the nature of things."

"That is all very pretty, Alfred, but you are ignoring the fact that she has seen the beast within me...and she hates me for it."

The old man shook his head, amused, "No, Sir. She does not. However, she is disappointed in you. And you cannot be so fiercely disappointed in something you are not invested in, that you do not care about. So I suggest you make this right, Master Bruce, if you can. Because I know that the extent of your desire is not just to live a satisfactory life...and nobody remembers rivers much...."

"Broken"

Ensign Faylin McAlister
JAG

Lt. Elaine O'Hare-NPC
Security

Location: Fay's Quarters

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

As she sat, she got easily lost in the amber colored liquid that sat in the crystal goblet. Her mind blank, she focused on the reflection in the glass. The reflection matching Faylin McAlister. In her mind's absence, her hand timidly tilted the glass back and forth, causing the liquid to swirl.

Even though she had bought back her soul, her demons of the past and present still haunted her, making her bitter to all. Her qualities, revered by some, were considered by most to fulfill the requirements of the title of bitch. She sensed nothing wrong with that. It's who she was. Her experiences in her short time on the Galaxy molded her into a woman who felt little, cared only for one, maybe two people if she would admit it, and focused on duty with a passion that was obscure to most around her.

The war may have ended on the planet, but it still raged deep within her. The urge to settle was fast winning over the carnal needs and wants of the single woman. It was hard to face the truth for her.

The one man she really wanted, did not want her. His coldness hurt, but, she understood that in loved someone else. And, the man that did love her, caused her pain as well. Why did she get involved in the first place? If she was honest with herself, she just wanted someone to hold her, to comfort her, and to tell her that it was okay after Olivia's death.

She found herself once again, a puppet. Although, instead of Steven, a dark force was pulling on her strings. Faylin felt unbalanced, words that were said between her and Saul only left emptiness in her, instead of a desired satisfaction she longed to feel. With time, she supposed that the door that opened to him would close. Sighing, as much as she wanted that, the reality hit that it would never happen.

No one would compare to him. It was infuriating to Faylin.

Without permission, the doors slid open to reveal a security officer.

She looked, just as Faylin felt, battered and bruised.

"Elaine...." Fay's eyes grew soft, for the first time in a long time.

"Fay." The tone in her voice was one of knowing and calm. Experience was worn on her features, making her appear wise. "You can use a friend right now, can't you?"

Her eyes misted over, a quiet, squeaky voice spoke. "Yea."

"Thought so babe." Taking a seat next to her, O'Hare pursed her lips, with a sympathetic air about her, Elaine leaned over and enveloped Faylin in deep, much needed hug.

Weeks of pent up emotion released itself as Faylin wept. "I.....I've lost so much Elaine. Then, on the planet.....Steven........"

"Steve? What happened?" Leaning back, she broke the hug, yet grabbed Fay's hand tightly.

"I don't know." Her eyebrows knitted with confusion. "We broke it off." She really didn't know what happened in the whirlwind that was her life the past few weeks.

O'Hare reached up, wiping a tear away from her friend's cheek. "I'm sure, if it was meant....."

"That's just it Lainy, I don't know if it was meant to be. I told Saul that I still loved him." She spoke quietly.

"Oh my god, you did what?" Her quiet amazement was not lost on the JAG officer.

"Yeah, I do.....I think. I'm not sure now. Elaine, he was so cold towards me. It wasn't the Saul I knew."

"The Saul you knew before, was not involved with anyone but you Faylin, come on. He has someone." She stated simply.

"Nara." The name rolled off her tongue like a large belch after a satisfying meal, yet this meal was anything but satisfying.

"So, why are you messing around with a taken man Faylin? That's not you....."

"I don't know who I am anymore." Fay's eyes displayed the ultimate hurt she felt as she pleaded with the woman that sat beside her. "Who am I Elaine? What am I now?"

Elaine leaned back into the softness of the sofa, her eyes expressed experience of love, loss, battle and victory. In the short time she knew Faylin, they had become kindred souls. Built from the same spunk and vitality, they shared many nights just chatting. Bringing her hand up to cup Faylin's soft face, her emerald eyes misted over, matching Faylin's dark amber colored eyes. She knew exactly where Faylin was at, she had been there many, many times in her past. Elaine wanted to hold her friend up high, taking away her pain. "Baby, your broken."

"I'm broken......................"

"Failure"

2nd Lieutenant Steven Jonas
CO - 2nd Platoon, USS Galaxy

****

Have you ever found everything in your life slipping away, like a boat that has slipped it's mooring, and no matter how hard you reach, it is always just out of your grasp?

I have!

In fact, that pretty much sums up my life. Always out of reach.

It doesn't matter what I do, nothing in my life is ever constant. Not my friends, colleague's, not even the woman I love, whom I thought shared my feelings. There is nothing I can anchor myself to, nothing to keep me on the straight and narrow. Just a bunch of jagged rocks threatening to rip my life to shreds yet again.

And there's not a god damned thing I can do about it.

Once, not long ago, I thought that I had found the one thing that could take hold of me and show me what it was like to love again. I see now that I was at folly to believe that anyone could, in their right mind, love a simple marine. Sure, I have my faults, I won't deny that, but even so, the thought that love could shine was one I thought was possible.

Boy was I wrong.

Not only did the brightness that had filled me up vanish like a wisp of smoke, but the dark clouds formed so fast that I could almost swear that there had never been that ray of light shining down upon my life.

It feels like I'm lost in the storm, unable to find a safe port to harbor from the ravages of the hurricane that threatens me. No lighthouse guides my way, it's bright light shining out into the sea, helping me find my way home. There is nothing but the bottom of an empty bottle to keep me company these days.

There are no brave soldiers, just foolish souls who try to make a difference. I don't call myself brave. Hell no. I couldn't care less about being brave. I'm foolish, both in my duties and it seems in love. For I love a woman who doesn't want me, and I have no clue as to what I can do to win her heart. I'm not a warrior, I'm not even a soldier. No, at present, I am just a mean drunk who has lost the woman he loves and pities himself for it. Is there no hope for me?

Is it wrong of me to wish that I had not fallen for her? Cause with no hope in sight, I find myself wishing that I could take it back. She has so many sides that I can't keep track, and the constant changing from hot to cold is damned impossible to try and figure out. I hope one day she can might have the gall to stand face to face with me and, with no hidden agendas or sly thoughts, explain just why she just turned so cold in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

I've heard all the rumor's, about her getting around, about her jumping from man to man faster than the ship jumps to warp, but for all that, she seemed like she was keen for me, that she wanted to settle down. Heck she even said it a couple of times, yet.... god, I don't know. I'm never gonna be able to figure her out. After that fiasco in Ten Forward, I get the distinct impression she still loves Saul, and no matter what happens there, it can only end bad for Nara. She's a good woman, loyal to a fault, and I'd hate to see her being shunted out into the cold by Fay and her cold-heartedness.

Stop thinking about her you idiot. It's not doing you any good.

Norma Jean, Boomer Sweet, Begj, Too many of my young charges died upon the battlefields of ch'Rihan. Forever gone, I can feel their lives just out of reach. I failed them. I wasn't there when they needed it, I couldn't save them. It's eating away at me like a disease, twisting, turning wrenching my innards around. I failed them and now they are all dead. What hope is there for survival when such youngsters perish while I survive? Where is the justice for a woman to die, a mere hour before we achieve victory, having just found the man that send her heart into flutters like no other man could, while I, having had my heart ripped out by the woman I thought loved me, survived? Where is the justice in that?

I failed them!

I failed her!

I failed them all!

(OOC: This is the prologue to a story arc I'm working on with various people. Also note that I'm going to start using the "proper" name of Miri's planet. Ray brought it to my attention that there was a TOS book that gave it a name so while I'm not relying on it for much else, I am going to stick with the name :) )

Ambassador Artim Shivar - Federation Council Member, Juram IV

with
Lian Verian - Federation News Service (NPC)

"There's More Than One Answer to These Questions"

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

<<May 21, 2961 - SS Point Eran - En Route to Earth>>

<Begin Hololog>

(The scene starts with the logo of the FNS and then fades into an image of a middle aged human male seated in a lavishly appointed lounge. He is seated in a high backed red velvet covered chair. The background behind him seems to be something resembing black marble. A tall fern can be seen off to his left)

"Good day everyone, this Lian Verian of the Federation News Service reporting from the starship Point Eran. For the past two months I have been traveling with Artim Shivar, Ambassador for Juram IV as he made a goodwill tour to various spots in the Federation. On the final leg of our journey from his homeworld back to Earth for the Federation's Octacentennial, the ambassador has agreed to an exclusive interview with me. Thank you for the pleasure ambassador."

(The holocam zooms out to reveal a person with the appearance of a human teenager, about 16 with straight black hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He is wearing a red silk tunic and broad rimmed black glasses beneath which his handsome blue eyes seemed to twinkle in the lights)

"The pleasure is all mine Lian. Despite my noted dislike for reporters its been a pleasure having you on this trip." Artim said with his familiar childish smile.

"Now to those who haven't been watching our series and aren't familiar with those from your planet, despite your rather young appearance you're actually celebrating your thousandth birthday tomorrow aren't I right?"

"1001'st actually, but when you've lived this long you don't really count them the same way." Artim said chuckling

"Indeed, indeed. And you've served on the council for what, 90 years now", Lian asked

"93 , though I'd like to announce here that I will not seek another term on the council and retire when my term is up next year. That should settle the speculation of my seeking an eigth term as President. I had my fill of that a decade and a half ago." , Artim said with a smile.

"So what do you intend to do after politics?"

"I dunno, I thought I'd take up professional raquetball. Maybe golf, I'm not sure what my old bones can take."

If it wasn't for his professionalism, Lian would have laughed hysterically at that, but he stuck with a measured tone though a slight chuckle escaped.

"Now, before you went into politics you served a long career in Starfleet during which you captained close to a hundred ships and fought in most of the major battles of the 25th and 26th centuries. Of all of that time, what was your most memorable assignment?"

Artim's face changed to a more ponderous look as he replied, "I figured you might ask me that so I thought on that for a long time and while the launch of the Planck was a sight to behold ushering in a new era for the Federation, I'd have to say my very first assignment on the Galaxy."

"Why that one if I may ask?"

The previously jovial tone drastically shifted into a far more serious one.

"Well Lian, before I joined Starfleet I really hadn't belonged to anything before and didn't really want to. I was a lost soul so to speak. I hadn't kept a job more then a couple years entirely by choice. My experiences on the Galaxy made me want to stay with the fleet despite the obvious handicaps a 10-year old looking child in uniform faced."

"So it shaped the rest of your carreer, made you into the person you are today?", Lian asked curiously though it wasn't hard to tell he was delibrately oversimplifying.

"In a manner of speaking." Artim's previously serious tone remained, though a bit more youthful energy pushed its way in. "It gave me purpose, a direction, and a chance to use my knowledge and experience in a productive way that being an actor or a shuttle pilot really couldn't. Besides, I wasn't being glared at by angry Nausicaans every day."

Lian got a wide grin on his face for a moment, but it promptly went serious again. His tone seemed somewhat reluctant.

"I hate to ask this as I know its a somewhat sensitve subject, but you mentioning the Galaxy made me want to ask you something I've been curious about as I'm sure many of our viewers have been. A cure for your...condition has been around nearly 6 centuries and the vast majority of your people, those who were on Juram IV when Captain Kirk found the world, have taken the treatment. You however are amongst the few that haven't. Why have you chosen to live as you do? Why don't you want to age normally?"

Artim took a deep breath. Of course he'd been asked this many times before, once every few decades for the past 500 years or so. He didn't look or sound as if he was giving an answer he'd given time and time again though, mainly because it wasn't. In fact he never really settled on a single answer.

"There's more then one answer to these questions Lian. Some think I relish being near immortal and I must say there's more then an iota of truth to that. I probably have another six or seven millenia to look forward to and there's some degree of pleasure in that. But it's also a greater burden then you might imagine. I guess the real reason is that I feel that its important to make sure people remember the mistake we made a millenia ago, to make sure we don't repeat it...

"World's Finest, Part 10: A Sunbeam's Kiss"

Elissa Skylark
Stranger From a Distant Planet

Aerv tr'Ahalaen
Terror of the Night

= The City =

Alfred found her sitting on a park bench, drenched by the rain. Without a word, he walked up to Kara and sat down next to her, holding his umbrella so that it sheltered her from the fading storm. All his movements were practiced and calm, as if everything were in order - as if the day were perfectly clear. His poise was so resolute that she wondered if he even needed the umbrella to stay dry.

"Good evening, Ms. Kara."

She turned to him, water on her eyebrows still dripping down her face.

"I hadn't noticed..." she bit off, then shook her head, immediately regretting her tone. "I'm sorry, Alfred. It's...a little better, now."

She smiled weakly.

"May I be as bold as to ask what you are doing here?"

"Just thinking," she said plainly, and abruptly enough that it didn't seem to invite further discussion.

"Very good, Miss," he noted, sounding quite amused, "I occasionally think myself. I find it a most refreshing exercise. Still...to be thinking quite so much as to not notice a storm overhead, well...whatever occupies your thoughts must be grave indeed."

"It's not like I can go back to the manor."

"Indeed? And why not? It's not like you're likely to see Master Bruce.

He's locked away in the library, hiding from you." Then Alfred shrugged, "And if you were to see him, I am not certain it would be such a bad thing."

She shook her head emphatically. "I have... doubts, Alfred. Doubts about him, and-and me, and these things I can do that should be impossible, and..." she looked at him, guilt-ridden, "Sometimes I look at you and think that you can't possibly be real."

Alfred laughed. "I do believe that should be my line." He paused, "Well...it seems to me that you are thinking of two different things at the same time. Doubts about ourselves are funny things, Miss Kara - once we open our minds to them, they spill into every part of our lives...even the certain ones."

"Everything is a lie," she said, folding her arms around her waist and hugging herself at the thought of it. "Everything I can do, everything I am. It shouldn't be possible, but it is. I have ideas about how things are, how they should work, and be... I remember things that don't exist in this world, and there are things in this world that I don't know how to..." she curled her legs up and hid in her arms. "Great, now'm falling apart in front of you." She was so embarrassed, felt so very small.

"I have lived a long time...and I have seen people with fewer burdens falter and fail. You...you just sound like Master Bruce. He seems to believe that you are the only real thing in the entire world."

"That was how I felt about him," she explained. "But then, when I saw what he did to those men... I thought... wouldn't it be better if he wasn't real either. Wouldn't it be better if you were real, and Martha.

She's so sweet...." Kara paused, staring ahead at nothing. "I thought I knew him, but I don't. Not really."

"Because he lost control of himself? Begging your pardon, Miss...but only a couple of days ago, it was Master Bruce who was angry with you for doing the same thing. And - though trust does not come easily to him - he forgave you. Kara...everyone makes mistakes, and everyone needs forgiveness - the best of us do." Alfred sat back and sighed, "Now Master Bruce, I will admit, is a man of many faults - and he himself admits that there is a darkness within him. However, for you to deny someone who loves you so, to leave him in the darkness that he fell into only when he thought you were lost to him...well, that strikes me as a little heartless."

She thought about it for a long moment. Then, decided, "I'm afraid."

Alfred smiled, "So he is...and it seems only natural. Once, when I was a young man, fear was a thing to be conquered. Now it is a gimmick used to sell us things - wars, security systems, online dating services - I suppose it is only makes sense that we have begun to use it to sell ourselves reasons why we should not dare, dream or love. Fear truly has become a knife in the heart of wonder."

"But... everything is a lie, Alfred. I'm in this dream and I can't wake from it."

"Even if I were to grant you that, Miss Kara, that still does not explain why you would turn away from the one person you know to be true.

It is my opinion that your first answer - that you are afraid - is the right one...and that is something I would urge you to move beyond."

He paused for a moment, then took one of Kara's hands into his own, "You know...you are not the first person to feel this way - and I am not talking about Master Bruce. One of my countrymen - Matthew Arnold - felt exactly as you feel now on his honeymoon. And, after surveying the whole world and finding it false, he returned to the woman next to him.

He said: Ah, love, let us be true / To one another! for the world, which seems / To lie before us like a land of dreams, / So various, so beautiful, so new, / Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, / Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain."

She smiled and hugged Alfred tightly. "He's so luck to have you, even if... well that's not important."

Alfred cleared his throat, to clear any emotion from his voice as she drew back, "Thank you, Miss Kara. Yes - well, that brings us to your second problem, doesn't it? The question of your abilities...."

"If you have an answer to that one, I'll kiss you," she said drily, leaning back and sighing. Kara shook her head.

"You can kiss Master Bruce, Miss, and we'll call it even," he said with a small laugh, "As for your abilities - perhaps they are a lie - but they are a useful lie, are they not - like myself? You and Master Bruce...you are the titans of our times - and what makes you so are not your powers...but your immutable qualities - the ones that define who you are. Take away all your powers and there is still a courageous heart, a brave spirit. It is that heart and that spirit, I think, that should compel you to use your powers...even if they are not true, to bring about true benefits."

"Saving people, stopping criminals... how heroic." She laughed nervously. "I'm not brave... I've just been reacting this whole time, because... I didn't know what else to do. That's not courage, that's...

I don't know."

"Human?"

"Good for them. Where does that put Kryptonians?"

He sighed. "I'm talking about your spirit, and you bring genetics into it. Human is human, no matter what the gene sequence. Both you and Master Bruce are human - so you make mistakes, but you also do great things, difficult things because they feel right and good. I should like to think the gains are greater than the losses." A light crossed the corner of their eyes. They both looked up into the sky, watching the Bat Signal ripple on the rainclouds. "Case in point. He's waiting for you."

She stood up and reached for the bag with her costume. "Wait... what about you?"

He chuckled. "Go on ahead. I may not shoot fire from my eyes...but I do know how to hail a taxi."

"Right. Of-of course. Brave Mr. Alfred." She grinned, and sped off.

* * *

= Later =
= The Lake =

Kara ran towards the source of the signal with such speed that she had no time to stop and pause to reflect upon the beauty of the place where it was taking her. Arriving at the edge of a small lake, in the middle of a forest, she saw the Batmobile.

And, of course, he was there as well.

"Hey," Aerv said quietly, taking off his cowl.

She'd quickly realized this wasn't a business call. Her eyebrow arched and she walked over to him. "I thought this was an emergency."

He ran a hand through his hair, wet from the falling rain, and gave her a sheepish smile, "What would possibly make you think that?"

"I've done some reading," She explained. Kara pointed at the signal light. "How did it go? 'Citizens of Gotham. Gotham City has earned a rest from crime. But should the forces of evil rise again to cast a shadow on the heart of the city, call me.'"

tr'Ahalaen shook his head, walked over to the Batmobile and turned off the signal. "Do I always sound that pompous?"

"Yes. Why?" she grinned at him. "I think it's charming."

"Oh...good. I guess. Otherwise, this would have been considerably mor