"Security: Alpha Shift"
by Lieutenant Jorell Thalan,
Ensign Ethan Storm
Ensign Taylor Bennett
Ensign Saris [NPC+]
Chief Warrant Officer Kur'Oh [NPC+]
Cadet Phaedra Scott [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Deck 6, Main Security Office
Stardate 57906.30 07h33

***

A lot of untrained observers on the bridges of Starfleet vessels often found themselves highly impressed with the Tactical Officer. It made a certain kind of sense: They were frequently imposing figures with impressive physiques and ruler straight posture, on their feet at the tactical station for an entire duty shift. With the flicks of a few fingers, they calmly laid down spreads of torpedoes and phaser fire with remarkable destructive power and remarked on the hits and misses with an icy dispassion.

There was no question that it was their skill and reaction time to the Captain's orders that often determined the outcome of violent encounters. Some departments could exist with incompetence for a short time but any ship with an incompetent Tactical Officer would soon find itself debris. They were impressive.

What those untrained observers often failed to realize was at the end of those impressive finger flicks was the labor of dozens of equally impressive individuals. When the Tactical Officer hit the button to fire a spread of torpedoes, those torpedoes had to be there, ready to go and in working order. Those individuals had to be there in teams at the phaser arcs, ready to go to work manually whenever the automation failed. When the Security Chief called for a boarding party, it was these men and women who took up arms and beamed blindly into potentially hostile and oft unknown situations.

They met death on duty with a higher frequency than any other Starfleet personnel. They were still sometimes called "Redshirts" derisively, even though their departmental color had been changed a century ago. They were all impressive. And when these officers began to file into the Main Security Office on Deck 6 of the USS Sulu a half hour before their shift began, they all knew this well and they were all proud.

Lieutenant Thalan had been in his office for over a hour making sure everything was running smoothly. Cargo and personnel were being cleared as they came aboard and soon the ship would be underway. The Chief of Security looked forward to that.

Leaving the confines of his office he walked out into the security area to see several of his staff already there and waiting for their shift to start. He smiled, liking what he saw.

As each new person entered the room, Phaedra was making sure to meet each person. As Storm entered, the young woman made her way to him and introduced herself, "Good morning, Sir, I am Cadet Scott."

Storm gave the young woman a distant smile. "Ensign Storm," he said somewhat curtly though not so curt as to be impolite. Though he didn't show it, he was somewhat amused by the eager gleam in the small woman's eye.

True, they were all eager enough as young officers but there was nothing like a cadet fresh from the Academy to truly encapsulate the meaning of blind ambition.

Storm himself was ambitious to a fault these days but in his case it was to compensate for his lackluster Academy years. Ethan began to wonder if his ambition was atypical when he spotted Ensign Saris across the office.

Judging from the determined look in the Risian's eye as she studied her co-workers, Storm thought that maybe he wasn't ambitious enough.

Saris had remained off to the side, simply preferring to watch her fellow security officers arrive. To those who did not know her, this demeanor was often mistaken for passiveness. She chuckled quietly at the memories of the last person who made that mistake. Turning her attentions back to the room, she quietly awaited the arrival of the Security Chief.

Taylor Bennett stood to one side of the security office, going over the details on a padd. Her mind processed the data quickly and adeptly, and once again she sent a silent thank you off to her mother whose Vulcan heritage seemed to always help during cram sessions. She'd had a few of them at the Academy, but not many since then. This morning, she was making sure she was aware of all the regs unique to the Sulu. She smiled secretly, happy to be back aboard a starship and getting back to regular duty. As the chief of security appeared, she slipped the padd into a pocket and turned to give him her attention.

Thalan waited a few more minutes as several of the other enlisted personnel made their way into the Security Office. One of the last to arrive was a burly fellow with some Klingon heritage. The man walked through the small group towards Thalan and with a mere nod to the man he took up a position to one side of the man.

"Well it looks like we are all here," the Lieutenant stated as he looked over many new faces. "I'd like to welcome you aboard the Sulu. I'm pretty easy to work for, most times. I expect your best while on duty and to carry yourselves appropriately when not. If you have any problems, my door is open 24/7."

He then motioned to the man standing to his side. "This is Chief Warrant Officer Kur'Oh. He is a tactical specialist and is a good person to have cover your back. While Lieutenant Hex is my right hand man, the Chief here is my left."

Kur'Oh, merely nodding when introduced, said nothing else.

"Cadet Scott" --Thalan then motioned to the young woman in their midst-- "is here as she has impressed upon her instructors at the Academy. Let's be sure that she gets the most out of her time with us and make her one of the best security officers we can give back to the fleet."

At being singled out the young woman blushed slightly as she smiled to those near her.

"Are there any questions or comments before I get to your assignments?" Thalan asked, looking about those of Alpha Shift.

Storm took a step forward, catching Thalan's attention. "Ensign Storm, sir. May I ask how the Tactical Station assignments are going to rotate out for the junior officers. Speaking for myself, I can't wait to get my hands on that board."

Thalan watched Storm step forward and was amused at the man's initiative, but knew how it also showed how much he wanted the job. The man then replied, "Well since you seem so eager to show us your stuff, Mr. Storm, you'll be first." He looked at a pad and then said, "Saris, and then Bennett. I'll take the last two hours of the watch. Chief Jance will be relief if needed and none are on the bridge. Otherwise the rest will be going over the shield emitters. I want to be sure each is in proper working order and that you are all familiar with their workings on the Sulu."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Storm smiled with satisfaction and shot a look at Saris with just a hint of smugness.

Saris just smiled in acknowledgement at Storm then asked Thalan, "Sir, I'd like to help with Cadet Scott's training."

"Kind of you to offer, Ensign," Thalan replied to Saris, "I would hope that everyone give Cadet Scott the help she needs to become a good officer. If you wish to take a personal interest in Ms. Scott, you are most welcome to do so."

Again the Cadet blushed a little but she smiled happily at Saris for her offer to help her.

Saris nodded. "Thank you, sir. Someone once took a keen interest in my development as an officer, and I want to do the same for someone else."

"Consider yourself in charge of Ms. Scott's training, Ensign," Thalan said, looking at Saris in a serious way. "Keep me apprised of her progress with a weekly report.

Nodding in acceptance of the order, Saris smiled at Cadet Scott then turned her attention back to the meeting.

"If there is nothing else, you are all dismissed. Your shifts start shortly and I would like everyone to be were they are supposed to be on time," Thalan stated.

---

"Second Time Lucky"
by Lieutenant (jg) Arthas Hex
Starring Richard as Arthas and Craz
Marc as Gredala Hex
Maria as Clavain Hex
and Cecelia as Ashly Hex

Location: Arthas Hex's Quarters - USS Sulu; Arthas Hex's Mind (Planet Pilot, Yior Residence)
Stardate 57906.30 10h00

***

Arthas was now happily settled in his new quarters aboard the Sulu. He was getting slightly more controlled over Hex, or maybe that was just the attitudes of the past symbionts changing.

He knew that he needed to talk to them again, after he had a shower, washed his face and felt as fresh as possible. He laid down on his bed and envisioned a more relaxed atmosphere.

Immediately Arthas found himself at his old house on Pilot - the Yior Residence. Arthas himself was sitting at the head of the patio table.

He waited for the past hosts to arrive. As usual, Gredala was first to arrive, walking in wearing an immaculately pressed Starfleet uniform. She wore the maroon jacket and white collar well, with the admiral's cluster shown prominently on the flap securing the jacket in place. "I came as soon as I received your memo, Arthas," she said and then took a place at the table.

Clavain was next to arrive, wearing his old pilot's outfit comprised of baggy brown trousers, black boots coming over his ankles and cinched tightly around the hem of his pants; they were polished to a lustrous gleam, as they'd always been in life. His gray, high-necked shirt was less than well-kept, with patches covering the elbows and faded grease stains that had been unsuccessfully removed. His pride were the three medals running up the right side of his collar, all of varying shapes and sizes. If one asked, he would go on for hours detailing how he'd come to receive the medals of valour, regaling them with his heroics, most often elaborating as he saw fit. The stories changed each time he told them, but they were entertaining nonetheless. Arthas hadn't earned the privilege of hearing them yet; he still had to prove his worth to Clavain.

The old man gave a respectful nod to Gredala and swaggered into the room. He took a seat at Gredala's left.

Gredala smiled at Arthas from across the table. "Well, the useful past hosts are present now."

Ashly's voice was heard before she appeared. "Your opinion, Gredala dear, but things are about to get interesting." Then her form appeared. "I'm here now."

Gredala forced herself from rolling her eyes.

Craz appeared next, in his starfleet uniform, he still hadn't come to terms with dying and sat in silence.

Arthas smiled. "What do you think?" His arms indicated the surroundings.

"I do not recognize it," Gredala answered. "However, it does appear to be a very nice place. I trust it is somewhere familiar to you, Arthas. Some place comfortable, I imagine."

Ashly glanced around. "Very homey."

"Spot on - Home," Arthas said. "The Yior residence. I thought that you could read my memories."

"It seems you are finally being able to close us out of your mind," Ashly stated.

"Really?" Arthas asked rhetorically. "Well, can I just say thanks for not intruding too much when I met my superior. You only gave me useful comments for a change."

Gredala nodded. "I took our conversation the other day very seriously, Arthas. It would have been wrong of me, in light of what was said, to then defy your wishes. I know enough about the chain of command and letting people do their jobs to know not to intrude without being asked."

Ashly nodded. "Being a part of Gredala while she was host helped me to understand the chain of command as well. Being Prime Minister also helped. Even I had someone to take orders from and to whom I answered... It would have been rude for me to interrupt you in your conversation with your supervisor." She and Gredala agreeing? That was a first.

Ashly and Gredala agreeing? Arthas thought. "Well, I thought that now that the Sulu is underway that we could get better acquainted. I prefer this environment to just trying to search your memories. Do you agree?"

"I think you shouldn't try so hard," Clavain said with disinterest. "Your problem is you feel you need to form a friendship with us. That's unnecessary, young man. Just learn to co-exist with us and you won't run into any more problems. You don't have to listen whenever we deign to speak to you; we're not your friends, so don't feel it's rude to just ignore us." Clavain rolled his eyes and snorted wryly, as if what he'd told Arthas was plainly obvious and the boy was just too simple to realize it.

Arthas' smile disintegrated. "What?"

Clavain sighed impatiently. "What do you mean 'what'? Are you a simpleton, boy?"

"Clavain, do not be rude to the young man, you were far from totally experienced when you were joined if I recall clearly," came Ashly. "You had your ups and downs as well, and the advice that you received didn't harm you in the least little bit."

"I believe," Gredala said, glancing aside at Clavain, "that he doesn't believe the sympathetic union between all of us is supposed to work in that way. However, Clavain is correct. We are not your friends, Arthas, even though we are allies. We are not even real people any longer. I've been dead more years than you've been alive. We are figments, if you will. We are the collected memories and experiences of Hex's former hosts, whose personalities and idiosyncrasies still exist within him. In time you will learn to utilize our knowledge and life experiences as you use a phaser or tricorder. However, I also believe that it is important that you function in a manner that best suits you. If this is how you wish to interact with us, then that is how we shall interact. However, I do have a word of caution, do not allow this mental environment to become a crutch. But, you are doing very well so far."

Ashly listened to Gredala's words and nodded. She'd agreed with a lot of what she said, and that was almost frightening in and of itself. However her words tended to go ignored by one and all so at this time, she just kept her mouth shut.

Arthas absorbed the information. "Well, yes I do prefer this way. Shall we talk about something?"

Ashly responded, "You called this one, Arthas, if you wish to discuss something, then choose the topic."

"You do realize, Ashly," Gredala said, while keeping her gaze still directed toward Arthas, "there are ways of being rude without resorting to name-calling. Now, Arthas, let's talk about your new posting. The USS Sulu? I am unfamiliar with the ship, though I am very familiar with her namesake. Both of them actually. There are very few Starfleet captains who can manage a bridge the way Demora could. So, what do you think of your new ship and crewmates?"

All Ashly did was give a humph of disgust at Gredala's comment, but she had to admit, even if only to herself, that she was correct. There were ways of being rude without the added insult of calling someone names. But she sat still and waited to hear about the new ship and the crewmates.

"I've only met a handful of my crew but the ship is magnificent," Arthas said, sitting down on his favourite chair and squinting at the blue sunset. "Mind you comparing the Blizzard to the Sulu is sort of like comparing a Captain's Yacht to a garbage scow."

He realised that the hosts did not know about the Blizzard. "Sorry, the Blizzard was a Nebula-Class Explorer, it only really ever saw action during the war, as Craz would know." He looked over at Craz who had sat surprisingly non-existent until he was looked at. Craz simply nodded. "This starship is Intrepid class, much better. The security department recently got a number of new officers and as Deputy Chief I'll have a major part to play in organising them."

Clavain cleared his throat. "And...you feel you're up to the task? I mean...can you function effectively in your current state?" He chuckled gruffly. "You hear voices in your mind. How focused could you possibly be on work?"

"As you, yourself have said, Clavain, I will learn to block your voices out in time. And I'm hoping that when I'm trying to work or there is a crisis, that you will either be quiet or be useful."

"Me?" Clavain snorted derisively. "When am I ever not useful? You're just too stubborn to realize when I'm offering sound advice."

"If you believe that I am the one being stubborn, you are more blind than I first believed," Arthas replied, beating back the constant criticism.

An admirable, small grin touched Clavain's lips, but appeared as nothing more than a grimace. That's better, boy. Don't let us push you around.

Arthas smiled, relaxed for the first time for the last six months. He had finally realised that he would never be alone again and it didn't seem too bad anymore.

"Gredala," he said, "I couldn't find too much on you in the databases. Tell me about yourself."

"Back in those days, the era of Kirk, the detail of information kept was surprisingly sparse. It was, as a human colleague once claimed, the Wild West. A reference unique to Terra, I believe, but I agreed with his description of what that meant. I was joined in 2291; I was thirty-one years old at the time. I was a lieutenant serving on the USS Lexington. I helped play a crucial role in mapping a region of the Beta quadrant that contains some of the most prolific dilithium mines in all of the Federation.

"Coincidentally, those mines are now the property of the current Chief Science Officer of this ship's family. I served as Chief Engineer aboard the USS Enterprise-B during her maiden voyage, the one where Captain James Kirk was lost.

"I guess you can say I've been a little bit of everywhere. I was promoted to admiral in 2327, at the age of sixty-seven. I was part of six different first contact missions that introduced new civilizations to the Federation. I was one of the chief negotiators during our initial contact with the Cardassians...not exactly a highlight in my career." She smiled and glanced around the table. "In 2372, Hex was removed, and I was allowed to expire at the ripe age of one hundred eleven. It was a good, full life. Do you have any specific questions? I've never liked speaking in general terms."

"Did you ever meet Kirk?" Arthas asked. Kirk's missions were legendary.

"I did," Gredala answered. "Though, I always thought he'd be taller."

Arthas laughed before shaking his head. "Sorry, I must go; the alarm is ringing. I look forward to our next collective talk."

Gredala looked around, puzzled, then leaned over to Clavain. "Was it something I said?"

Arthas broke from the mental 'thing' that he had learned to and asked the computer to stop the alarm.

He got up and got ready for Beta Shift, it was his second day and he was looking forward to it.

---

"No Boys Allowed"
By: Ensign Kelzira Rax
Ensign Jenara Redman
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57906.30, 11h00

***

A mission. That's what it was. It wasn't anything as lofty or fulfilling as seeking out new life or new civilizations, but instead to educate and enlighten. They had charged themselves with this mission several nights ago after a chance encounter with the biggest lecher to grace a starship since Captain James T. Kirk; and at least Kirk hadn't kept notches on his bedpost. And, as Kelzira pointed out on several occasions, was very, very cute.

"Computer said she was in the lounge," Kelzira said as they strolled down the corridor. "I just hope she's still there when we get there. The next time we have one of these missions, I would like for you to make sure you say goodbye to Kit before we start." She giggled as she glanced at her friend. "Though, I must say the two of you make an exceedingly cute couple."

Amy giggled, as she always did upon mention of Kit. "And the height issue is...well...not an issue, especially since half the time, we're lying down so...."

"Well, I imagine it'll sort of be like when we're together," Kelzira said. "Well, except that you and he do a lot of things that it's biologically impossible for you and I to do together. Unless I die of course, and Rax gets transferred to another male...but then... Oh this joining thing is just so confusing. Still, you two are very cute, and I'm happy for you. Tonight, I shall drink several drinks in your honour."

"Hopefully not by yourself," Amy said with a raised eyebrow. "You're my Kelli and I never want you to feel alone. Hell, if you wanna lay down with Kit and I, you can! Anything to make sure you know I haven't forgotten about you."

"Well, I may have to do just that," she said. "And, it definitely wouldn't be alone. I would be with you, drinking that drink. And, probably Jenara too if this works out well. And, I know you'll never forget me and I'll never be alone."

"Especially with those other voices in your head?" Amy laughed softly and wrapped an arm around Kelli, giving her friend a partial hug. "I love you, Kelli. You're the best best friend I've ever had."

Kelzira felt herself blushing, even though she knew that there was nothing very romantic in her friend's profession of love. It was a deep friendship, and for that she was happy. "I love you too, Amy. I don't think I could have asked for a better friend to exist, but here you are."

"Here we are," Amy corrected. She kissed the top of Kel's head, then nestled her cheek to her friend's sweet-smelling blonde hair. "It's a good thing we're so good at being friends. That Jenara person sounds like she really needs some to help her realize what a jerk that Steele guy is."

"I just hope she's willing to listen to us," Kelzira said with a sigh. "He's had four days to tell her how many more lies? I just hope it's not too late to save her from him. He's such a..." She sighed again, and tried to count back from ten to calm her emotions. "A jerk."

"It's okay, my Kelli," Amy assured her while rubbing her back soothingly. "We'll get her to see the light. Everything will be fine."

Kelzira and Amy entered the lounge and found Jenara sitting alone in one of the corners. The young woman was drinking something from a glass and staring out one of the windows. "There she is," Kel said, and led the way to Jen's table. "Hi there, roomie. These seats taken?"

Jenara looked up and saw Kelzira and shook her head. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a few days. I was beginning to think you hated me or something. No one is sitting here, go ahead and join me."

Kelzira slid into one of the free chairs and motioned for Amy to sit as well. "How could I hate you? And, I've been spending time with Dwayne and Amy. Jenara Redman, this is my friend Amy Reese; Amy, this is Jenara."

Jenara extended her hand and shook Reese's in the time honored greeting. Looking at her roommate she asked, "So have things calmed down with your Lieutenant Tagliesh, Kel?"

"For the most part," Kelzira answered, still puzzling over the human handshake. It had been adopted by many cultures in the three hundred years humans had been in space, but it was still an awkward custom. "Since we have different shifts, I don't see her as often. But things have been civil. Amy says it's because she's 'getting some.' "

Jenara seemed confused by the remark and asked, "Getting Some?"

Amy snickered. "With the captain, of course. Haven't you heard the rumours?"

"The rumour has it that she and Captain Salinger have gotten quite close," Kelzira said. At Jenara's continued confused look, she finally added: "She's having sex."

Jenara stifled a laugh and shook her head, "I'm afraid I don't pay much attention to rumors. Most of the time they aren't true anyways." Pausing to take a sip she smiled, "So, Amy, perhaps you'd like to join me and Kel for a game of springball sometime?"

"Sure!" Amy replied cheerfully. Her smile then faded slightly as she looked to Kelli and remembered the true purpose of their visit. "Though, that should probably wait until you hear what we have to tell you. Depending on your reaction, you might want to reconsider your offer."

Jenara seemed puzzled and leaned forward a little bit. "Is something wrong? I don't remember doing anything to get into trouble."

"It's about J.R.," Kelzira said. "Has he talked to you since the other night? Specifically about what happened between him and Dwayne."

Jenara nodded her head. "Yeah, he did. He said he and J.R. had a huge misunderstanding and that Dwayne is actually a pretty nice guy. I haven't seen Dwayne, but I was planning on apologizing for totally blowing him off the first night."

"And did he tell you about the bet?" Amy asked forthrightly. "The one J.R. himself was participating in?"

Jenara sighed and seemed on the verge of tears. She looked down at the table away from the other two ladies and shook her head quietly. "I'd...rather not talk about that. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, but I just don't know what to say."

"Jenara, I think that may have been an act," Kelzira said. "The other night when he talked to us, he didn't seem sorry at all. In fact, he indicated that the only reasons he didn't go through with that bet were because Dwayne went to Captain Salinger and the captain stopped them, and because in his act of revenge of stealing you before Dwayne could gather the courage to tell you how he felt about you, J.R. happened to start liking you."

Jenara shook her head in disagreement. "He told me about the stupid bet, and he also told me at first he wasn't interested in me, but that he got to know me better, and had changed his mind. I want to believe him, but I also told him I need time to think it over. I don't know what all he said to you, but the simple fact he came forward and told me all of this without holding back seems to point out that maybe he was sorry."

Pounding her hand to the table softly for emphasis, she wiped away a small tear from the corner of her eyes and frowned. "And to think I had just started being comfortable around a man. Serves me right."

"I don't know why he came forward and told you or made peace with Dwayne," Kelzira said, covering Jenara's hand with her own, "but he didn't seem very sorry at all the other night. He seemed very bitter and spiteful about the whole thing. That and he was smugly arrogant about it all. I think...I think he's just bad news, Jen. Be very careful around him. I've known his type, many of his type over the last hundred or so years, and they're good at hiding who they are."

"Maybe you're right, maybe not. I'm going to give it time, and if Mr. Steele wants to make it up to me, he'd be best off coming up with a good way of earning my trust, but I'm not about to lose sleep over a guy. Besides, it's probably not a wise career move to fall in love." Jenara said the last part with a slight grin and seemed to be cheering up.

"Love and careers can be difficult on the whole galactic compatibility, which is why it's so important to find someone who fits you perfectly, like Amy and her new Thing, Kit. Steele strikes me as the kind of guy who's most compatible with himself. But, good luck with him, Jenara. And, I hope I am wrong about him...but, I have a sinking feeling I'm not. So, about that Springball..."

Jenara looked down at her uniform as she replied, "I'm not exactly dressed. I'll have to change there. Otherwise I have nothing else to do right now."

"That works!" Amy slipped out of her seat and moved around behind Kelzira's to ostensibly help her out of hers; really, she needed the opportunity to lean over her shoulder and whisper into her ear, "I don't think she's as over him as she seems. Our job isn't quite done yet."

"No, it's not," Kelzira whispered as she nuzzled her lips to Amy's cheek as a way to hide her words...as well as to...well, nuzzle Amy's cheek. "I think springball is a great idea...and it'll give us a chance to help her get her mind off Junior, and maybe put in a few good words for Dwayne-o."

Amy nodded her head imperceptibly, and couldn't help giggling at Kelzira's breath tickling her ear. She finally managed to help Kelli out of her chair and regarded Jenara with a grin. "Well, then, should we meet you there, Jenny? Or we can just replicate some outfits and go straight there."

Jenara stood up and motioned towards the door as she answered, "We can replicate them down there. No sense me going all the way to my quarters to change into a replicated outfit."

"Well, that's settled," Kelzira said. "Let's go get a court, though I've never played Springball with three players. It should be fun."

"Especially considering I've never played before," Amy replied.

"It's actually pretty simple once you get the hang of it," Kelzira replied. "We can play a practice game so you can learn it. Have you ever played any of those sports they have on earth where you use a racquet?"

Amy nodded. "So...I just swing and hope I hit something?" She giggled and looked between Kel and Jen. "Not one of you, though."

"Preferably not," Kelzira said with a laugh. "A ball. We'll show you. And, we think you'll have lots of fun. And, I'm sure Kit would love to watch you playing since standard attire is quite close-fitting and clingy."

Amy cooed dreamily. "I think, in that case, my next date with him should be a springball game. I bet he'll look just as good in tight clothing." She felt her cheeks go hot and giggled at the two girls. "I think we should keep the topic off boys today. Just us girls, right?"

Kelzira giggled. "Very well, you'll look quite good in that tight clothing," she said. "And, so with Jenara."

"Dear Kelli, I think you're getting far too worked up," Amy teased. "But you're right, Jenny would look good in tight clothing. It's no wonder she's got so many--" Amy covered her mouth guiltily, then pulled her hand away and grinned at the two. "So many 'blanks' after her," she continued, omitting the taboo word for the day.

Kelzira grinned. "Yes, there's that one and that one...and who knows how many in engineering. Oh, but we should talk about something else. So, Springball...it's an easy game to play. Usually played two to a court..."

And, with that, the three of them went off toward the holodeck to engage in a few games of Springball, the perfect activity to keep their minds off men.

---

"Persuasion for Lunch with a Side of Disharmony"
By Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Ensign Ethan Storm - Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Mess Hall
Stardate 57906.30, 12h01

***

Cristobel bounded into the mess hall, but then paused in the entranceway to take in an eyeful of the room. It seemed pleasant enough; not so large and overwhelming as the dining areas on larger ships, nor as tiny and tight as the secondary mess halls on larger ships either. Cris made a mental plan to eat here some time, but for the moment, he was simply here to pick up lunch for himself and Nurse Reese. Sefton got in line to receive two portions of whatever was being served fresh today, and seemed to be completely unnoticed by the officer standing in front of him: Ethan Storm.

"Oh. So you're not dead," Cris declared sardonically.

Oddly enough, Storm had been looking around the mess hall himself before Sefton fell into line behind him. It was more to obtain a tactical advantage than out of any interest in socializing. Storm increasingly found such displeasure in the inevitable small talk that seemed to accompany even the simplest daily event; he preferred to keep it all to a minimum. Knowing who was standing or sitting where enabled Storm to chart his path to an unused corner of the mess hall virtually free of human contact and enjoy his meal in peace. Besides that, he was also actively avoiding Crewman Moreau and it was ironic that this hyper vigilance in looking for her was exactly the distraction which allowed Sefton to slip behind him unnoticed.

"I'm still alive so far," Storm offered, without turning around. "However, if you happen to have a phaser handy..."

"It's curious," Cristobel non sequitured in a polite tone, "I gave you both written and in-person invites to my getting-to-know-you game night, and yet, there you were not. You didn't even send a neg RSVP. May I ask: why?"

Storm briefly considered lying to Sefton about receiving the written invitation: They were both new to the Sulu and it wasn't impossible for the computer system to have dropped the text message while service records were in transition. However, not only was it a flimsy, unlikely excuse that would be a hard sell to a first year cadet who had failed Computer Operations, it was almost certain that telepathic Sefton had already sifted through his brain, knew he had received the invitation, knew he briefly considered lying about it, and now knew that he was rejecting that consideration. Sefton didn't give him a chance to answer, fueling Storm's suspicion that Cris was poking about in his head.

"I changed my mind. I don't actually care why. To be honest, I mainly want to personally invite you to the next game night, because..." Cristobel trailed off for a few moments to regard the security officer. His eyes lit up when a thought occurred to him, "You would make the game play out much shinier. You see, the purpose of the game is to solve a murder through a somewhat simplistic logic puzzle, but it manages to be fun, in a challenging way...but it completely fell apart last night, quite possibly because we didn't have a security officer keep us on task and show us how it's done in the real world." Cris beamed at him hopefully.

"Look," Storm began, turning to face Sefton. "I don't want to be rude --"

"Then don't be," Sefton said, still beaming.

"I don't want to be," Storm said, his voice sincere. "Honestly. But my responsibilities preclude a social life for awhile. I appreciate the invitations but I just can't accept."

Cristobel openly rolled his eyes. Sounding pained to even entertain the notion, he asked, "And what responsibilities preclude a social life altogether?"

The line finally moved forward a bit, allowing Storm an extra moment or two to consider his answer. Ethan was not so anti-social as to want to alienate Sefton completely. Cris was, after all, just trying to be nice and make some friends on a new ship. Storm could identify - it wasn't so long ago that he acted much the same way. But there was also part of him that was getting angry about having to constantly explain himself. Between Frank and Sefton and Shyla and the Counselor's various small interrogations, Storm felt like he was one probing question away from a real outburst and that just couldn't happen. He had to find a way to put Sefton off his case, if only for awhile.

"Look, Cristobel. I don't know what your Starfleet experience has been like so far but I didn't exactly sail through the Academy top of my class. My family has several generations of tradition that I came this close" --Storm held his thumb and index finger about a micron apart-- "to letting down. I have to start doing it better than the other guy. It's my legacy. Of all the people I've met on this ship so far, I would think that you would understand. Your mother is in Starfleet."

It surprised Cristobel to feel Storm's frustration crashing into him, like waves, and then to receive such a restrained verbal response. While Ethan's direct correlation between thought and words was what Cris liked about him so much, he greatly respected Ethan's choice to hold back the aggression. With firm eye-contact, Cristobel told Ethan genuinely, "I wasn't at the top of my class in the Academy... Although, I did manage to get on a Cadet Cruise after wasting a couple of months of third year on medical sabbatical... But that's not the point. The point is that when I had to be on sabbatical, my mother decided she needed to take a sabbatical to be there for me. The most important thing to my mother is her family and friends. That's the way she's always been, and she's been a Chief Medical Officer for years. I'm afraid you're wrong about me. I don't understand. The only legacy I'm expected to keep up is to be fulfilled with my life and to be happy.

"Forget about the games night, though. To be honest, it was almost a disaster," Cristobel continued. "What if...just you and me played, um... Intruder Alert! I loved volunteering for that at the Academy. We could get a deck sealed off, or just use the holodeck. It's huge fun and, for you, it's kinda like training...in the sense that it is training."

"Training is always good," Storm said, growing thoughtful. "How soon could you set something up?"

Shrugging his shoulders high, Cristobel answered, "Couple days to get a holodeck, but probably longer if we can 'borrow' a couple of the Sulu's own decks." When the line moved forward again, Sefton nodded Ethan towards the awaiting server.

Storm stepped up to the server. "There was a rumor going around that the mess has real potatoes today, crewman."

"Yes, sir," the server said, indicating a placard with a variety of serving options. "Straight from Idaho to the Starbase to the Sulu."

"Give me one, baked, load it with sour cream and chives. Also, steak sandwich, rye bread with sautéed mushrooms and go heavy on the grilled onions. Lemonade to drink."

"I'll take two of the specials today, and a pair of lemonades," Cristobel chimed in.

"If you can get it going, count me in," Storm said turning back to Sefton. "And don't feel like you have to limit it to just us. If you want to invite the people from your previous game night, feel free. I'm not so opposed to the social elements, just to the idea that I'm spending time on something other than my responsibilities."

"I think I can understand now. Sort of," Cris told Storm with a slight nod. "I'm not sure how likely it is that I can convince the same group to get together, but I'm sure I can work something out. Would you like it to be a proper challenge, and have the intruders outnumber you?"

"Is there any other way to play?" Storm asked with a knowing grin.

---

"Official Capacity"
by Captain Matthew T. Salinger
and Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57906.30 13h00

***

Matt Salinger looked up from his desk as the door opened. The engineer, Mark Thaine, stood there, looking a little out of place entering the captain's ready room.

"Mr. Thaine," Matt said, standing from his chair and motioning Thaine inside. "Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a coffee, sir," answered Mark, sitting down with a slight amount of trepidation.

"Very well, coffee it is," Matt said and ordered a coffee for Thaine and a Tarkelian tea for himself. After handing Thaine his beverage, Matt returned to his chair. "I read over your last report and it sounds like things are going really well in engineering. It's always tricky with a new crew in a new engine room. What is your assessment of your current staff?"

"They're a good bunch," replied Thaine, looking a little more relaxed now that the conversation was in an area he felt comfortable in. "There are a few who require a little thought, to get the best out of them. Flummux isn't the best leader, but when it comes to holo-matrices, or variations in certain fields..." The engineer spread his hands apart, almost spilling his coffee. "The other one is Jenara." He paused, taking a sip from his drink. "She's got potential."

Matt nodded. "Good," he said. "Very good. At first, I wasn't sure what the engineering department was going to look like, especially with the last-minute changes we went through. However, you've been doing a very good job keeping things in order." He paused for a moment to regard the engineer. "How would you like to continue keeping things in order in engineering in a more official capacity?"

Thaine stared at the Captain for a moment, then nodded. Then a faint smile appeared. "I'd love to, Captain."

"Very good," Matt said. "And, I had feeling you might say that." He pulled a padd from one of the shelves below the surface of the desk and slid it toward Thaine. "Computer, transfer all engineering operations protocols to Lieutenant Mark Thaine, effective stardate 57906.30." He then placed a small box next to the padd. "And, to go with the promotion to Chief Engineer," he continued, "an increase in rank to full lieutenant, and all rights and privileges that go with it."

There was nothing he could do, Thaine realised, to prevent the genuine smile appearing upon his face as he opened the small box, took the full pip out and replaced the half-one on his collar. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I won't be letting you down."

"You're welcome, Mark," the captain answered. "You've been doing a fine job down there so far, and I'm certain you'll continue to do so. Congratulations and welcome to the senior staff."

Thaine raised his cup of tea, in a toast. "To the Sulu, sir?"

Matt raised the coffee cup sitting on his desk. "To the Sulu."

---

"Clandestine Check-up" (or "What the hell are you doing in my sickbay?")
by Crewman 1st Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician [NPC+]
Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
Lieutenant M'lira - Assistant Chief Medical Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57906.30, 13h30

***

Cristobel Sefton was almost universally unimpressed with Starfleet brass. That's not to say the young officer was not appropriately deferential to his superiors or even to suggest that he didn't find many of the high ranking personnel to be simply amazing men and women. Sefton just didn't see the big deal in the rank itself. It may have been the fact that he'd grown up around Starfleet officers or it could have been the mundane thoughts he occasionally detected from these otherwise great thinkers. Either of those scenarios would have had the same end result: To Sefton, Starfleet officers were just plain old people. That is, when they were people at all.

When Sefton got the order from Dr. M'lira that he was to prep a patient for a full physical and there were to be no preliminary scans, Sefton couldn't help but speculate that yet another flag officer VIP on the starbase must have had one too many dances with an Orion female and then snuck over to the Sulu for a little covert treatment away from the familiar medical staff of his duty station. M'lira had even gone so far to suggest, quite insultingly Cris thought, to make sure he refrain from using any telepathic abilities while prepping this patient and that strict confidentiality was expected. It took everything Cris had not to break down in an eye-rolling fit.

Grumbling internally, Sefton went to the partitioned examination room and steeled himself at the door for whatever pompous, pampered, bloated Starfleet Admiral waited on the other side. So when Cris went in and saw that his imagined pompous, pampered, bloated Starfleet Admiral was, in fact, a thin, pretty female crewman first class, his instincts were that there must be some misunderstanding.

"Hello, sir," Crewman Moreau offered to the surprised young Betazoid. "Are you my doctor?"

"I'm nobody's doctor," Cristobel replied with a pleasant grin.

Shyla widened her eyes in mock horror as she grabbed a nearby gown and draped it over her fully clothed body. "But you are with the medical staff right, sir?"

"Nurse Sefton at your service."

"Crewman Moreau," Shyla said with a grin, lowering the gown. "Astro Tech."

Removing the needed medical instrumentation from its proper places in storage, Sefton asked the crewman, "Would you care to change into that medical gown, or are you most comfortable in uniform?"

"I'm probably most comfortable in front of an Astrometrics console," Shyla said. "Either that or snuggled under a thick blanket in a warm bed. But this medical gown? Are you serious, sir? There have been centuries upon centuries of medical advances - why can't they make one that doesn't let your butt hang out?"

Cristobel smirked as he carefully placed the instruments onto the cart beside the biobed. "I could grab an autosuture and permanently seal up that gown for you," Sefton offered, looking up from the tools. "And please feel free to save your 'sirs' for the doctors. I'm just Cris."

"I'll keep my uniform on, thank you very much...you can put your autosuture away," Shyla said, smiling and dangling her legs off the edge of the biobed. All of the sudden Shyla perked up and you could almost see the light bulb over her head. "Hey...Cris, you want to do something for me and become my best friend ever?"

"It depends. How many best friends ever have you made with that promise so far?" Cristobel cocked an eyebrow expectantly, but before she could respond, he offered, "What can I do for you?"

Now that it came to actually making the request, Moreau looked down at the floor with a sudden bout of shyness. "Would you get in a lot of trouble if you activated the EMH?"

"Activating the EMH is pure simplicity," Cris assured her. "Here I was hoping for a challenge."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Shyla asked, her eyes bright. "It's kind of silly, I know."

"Nah, I acquainted myself with the EMH, as well," Cris told Shyla with a wink. He spoke in a clearer tone of voice, to say, "Computer, please activate the emergency medical hologram."

The blond hologram shimmered to life before Cristobel. "What the hell are you doing in my Sickbay," he sassed.

Shyla jumped down off the biobed and moved closer to the EMH. "Aw," she said, clearly disappointed. "It's a Mark II. I can't believe I didn't know that. I'm kind of a Voyager freak," Shyla admitted with an embarrassed grin, noticing Sefton's blank stare. "I've read all the declassified mission logs and everything. I knew it wouldn't be "The Doctor" but I thought he would at least look like him. This is disappointing."

"You're no prom queen yourself, Crewman," EMH said, looking indignant. It turned to Sefton. "Now, what is the medical emergency?"

"This is the emergency. Shyla wanted to meet The Doctor, and we got the saucy temp," Cristobel responded. "I mean, I hear Mark III's on his way, and he's gonna be friendlier, flirtier and hotter than you."

The EMH looked at Sefton with open disdain. "And what makes you think he'd be interested in you, Ensign?"

Shyla giggled. Cris shot her a look of mock pain.

"Sorry, Cris," she apologized while still giggling. "But he is pretty funny. Why do they program them that way?"

"Aren't they based on real people? Probably not even the most bright doctors, since the EMH is given the entire medical database to call its memory," Cristobel presumed. "Maybe... Hey, were you a personal friend of Doctor Zimmerman?" Cris asked the EMH.

"Whoever it was," Shyla said before the hologram could respond. "He needed a haircut."

The EMH stiffened in outrage. "I'll have you know, missy, that activating emergency applications in non-emergency situations is a violation of Starfleet regulations and I, as a trusted officer, am required to report such --"

"Computer, deactivate EMH," Cris said quickly.

"Hey..." the EMH whined, before dematerializing in a sparkle of lights.

"The joke's on him: I was the prom queen," Shyla said, jumping back on the biobed. She grew a bit serious. "Cris, thank you for doing that. He's right: It's kind of a frivolous use of technology. It's just that Astrometrics hasn't been as...entertaining...as I had hoped."

"I think we might have a larger problem than frivolous use of technology..." Cristobel diagnosed. "Have you been relying on Astrometrics to be your only source of fun?"

"It is fun. At least it was on the station. But here...it's not what I expected." Shyla shrugged with a deep sigh. "Maybe it'll get better once we get underway."

"While I can see the allure of Astrometrics - it had practically felt like a second home, when I was Cadet Cruising on the Miranda - I'm thinking you've got to diversify your entertainment," Cristobel suggested. "In fact, there's this hologame I want to play, but I need more players first, and I've never had a bestest friend ever before..."

"I don't believe that for a second," Shyla said, almost sure that affable Cris probably had more friends than he could count. "What's the game?"

"Intruder Alert," Cris answered. "I volunteered for the simulations quite a few times at the Academy, and I thought I might arrange it as a game on board. What do you say? Want to be bad?"

Shyla shook her head as if to scold Cris but was smiling. "You little boys with your guns...running around shooting each other. Do you ever grow out of it?"

"Hey, who said anything about firearms?" Cris said defensively. After a beat of silence, he admitted, "It's all about blowing things up. Who wants a phaser when you've got photon grenades? But, if it's too immature for you..."

"No, no. I'm in," Shyla said, grinning hugely. "I was a tomboy and the prom queen. We're a very rare breed."

"Shiny! I'll fill you in on the details as I make them up," Cristobel promised.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," a voice from the corner of the room said. Framed in the doorway was a woman who stood at 1.62 meters tall, and had obviously feline features. Two ears were perched atop her head and a long tail could be seen swaying gently behind her. "I am Dr. M'lira. Is everything ready, Cris?"

"Yes, doctor," Cris asserted, and ever so slightly straightened his posture.

Shyla simply beamed when she saw M'lira. It was so nice that someone familiar with her case would be handling the treatment.

"Good afternoon, Shyla" M'lira said. "This should only take a few minutes, and then you'll be off back down to the science labs." She picked up a tricorder, and set it to passive scan mode. She then began taking readings of the young woman. "So, how have you been feeling?"

"I've been feeling great, sir," Shyla said with a look of apprehension directed at Cris.

Sefton, following orders and keeping his telepathy in check, mistook the apprehension for some kind of scan anxiety so he winked to reassure her. He had no way of knowing that the apprehension was because of his presence.

"That's good," M'lira said. "Cris, I think I can handle this one from here. Could you go prepare a room for Lt. Flummux? I think he believes he's caught the Bollarian flu again. Do what you can to reassure him. I'll be there in just a few minutes."

"On my way," Cristobel falsely enthused, as he headed out the door. He was starting to strongly believe that the Medical Database should be kept classified for some officers.

M'lira smiled as she watched the young Betazoid leave the room. Once he was gone, M'lira turned back to Shyla. "So, you're feeling great. No pain or nausea? I brought over my copies of your medical file from the starbase."

"No pain," Shyla affirmed with a smile. "I felt a little sick right before I left the station but I think it was the excitement about the transfer and the stress of telling all my friends goodbye. You probably went through the same thing too. Right, sir?"

"I did," M'lira answered with a smile. "It's hard to just pick up and go from a place that's been your home like that, especially someplace where you feel so comfortable. Have you met many people aboard the Sulu yet? Those I have met seem like very nice people. I think this will be a good ship, Shyla. And, I feel confident we will be able to make some progress here as well."

"I hope so, sir," Shyla said with a shrug and a wistful smile. "I haven't met many people yet but Ensign Mel'Chir seems real nice and Nurse Sefton looks promising. I just don't want any of them to know, especially on a new ship. You don't know if you're making friends or sympathizers."

M'lira nodded. "If they become your friends first," she said, "then I think you have a fairly safe bet that you're not getting sympathizers."

"Well, that's what I had thought had happened at the Academy," Shyla explained. "Then I made the mistake of telling a few people. It changed everything. They always had this worried expression when they looked at me. It was too much."

"I understand," M'lira answered. "Well, no one will hear a word from me. And, I'll do everything I can to keep the information completely confidential."

Shyla bowed her head towards the floor. "I realize the confidentiality seal doesn't apply to the Captain or the First Officer but a crewmember's department head is more of a nebulous area. Does Lieutenant Tagliesh have to be informed?"

"As long as it doesn't affect your performance in her department, I see no reason why she must know."

"That's good," Shyla said simply, continuing to look down at the floor. "How often do I have to be examined?"

"For now, let's make it once per week," M'lira answered. "Perhaps if things continue to look good, we can adjust to every two weeks. And, if you ever feel dizzy or nauseous, I want you to let me know right away. I've got all the readings I need for now, so you're free to get back to work if you'd like."

Shyla jumped off the biobed with a grin. "Thank you, sir," she said, heading towards the door. M'lira nodded absently, absorbed in the readings she had just taken.

Shyla stopped at the door. "Sir?"

M'lira glanced up from the padd. "Yes, Shyla?"

"I'm glad you're here with me," Shyla said with a smile.

M'lira returned the smile. "I'm glad to be here," she answered. "I'll see you later, Shyla."

She watched the woman leave, and then turned her attention back to the tricorder for a moment. She smiled gratefully, glad that there had been no substantial change. Now to just keep it that way, she thought as she headed off to check on Lt. Flummux's latest ailment.

---

"Nurse Nuisance"
By Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Science Lab
Stardate 57906.30, 15h48

***

Knowing that he'd be finding himself in a laboratory filled with aqua-collared officers, Cristobel strode into the Science Lab sporting a pale blue medical smock over his uniform. Sefton took the scenic route across the lab, looking over the various experiments and sensor readouts on-screen as he made his way towards Lieutenant Tagliesh. Finding her in conversation with a junior officer, Cris interrupted, "Lieutenant, can I see you in your office for a moment?" He smiled genuinely, and tacked on, "Sir."

Xayella narrowed her eyes quizzically at Cris, ignored him briefly to refocus her attention on Ensign Mel'Chir, then regarded him again. "Why?" was all she asked. "And who are you?"

"I'm Nurse Sefton," Cris explained as if the name would mean something to Xayella. "The doctor sent me to take some readings" --he pulled a medical tricorder out of one of the smock's pockets-- "to ensure that you're recovering properly and that you haven't been working yourself too hard."

Xayella scoffed at Cris, waved a dismissive gesture, and brushed past him as she strode towards a nearby station. "I don't need a check-up," she snapped. "Do I look sickly to you, Ensign?"

"That's not my decision to make, sir," Sefton replied immediately. "I'm simply here to check your stats, which we can do here while you work." He took the handheld scanner out of the medical tricorder casing. "I only suggested heading to your office, because most people like privacy."

"What--" Xayella whirled around to face Cris, looked with contempt at the scanner in his hand, then grabbed at his wrist and jerked him along like an insolent child caught misbehaving, as she stalked towards her office. "I'm not sick," she told him again curtly. "This is stupid."

"I will wholeheartedly pass along that message to the doctor," Cristobel assured her, as he was dragged into her office. "Since this was supposed to be the convenient alternative to bringing you to Sickbay."

"Convenient for who?" she quipped. The doors to Xayella's office quailed under her presence and parted for them. Once inside, she released Cris' wrist and stood facing him with arms stubbornly folded beneath her breasts. "Shall I strip down completely as well?" she asked sourly.

Cris pointed the handheld scanner towards her again. "Are you asking me as a medical officer or a man?" he questioned in response cheekily.

Xayella snorted at that remark. "Hardly a man..." she muttered as her eyes glossed over his form.

Cristobel's eyes narrowed, and he filled his field of vision with the medical tricorder. "This'll only take a minute more."

Xayella tapped her foot impatiently and pointedly glanced towards the chrono on the wall every half second. "So...am I dying?" she asked with a smirk.

"It...doesn't appear that way," Cristobel replied, after taking a long thoughtful look at the tricorder's screen. "But..." He pressed the handheld scanner back into its slot, and finished the last couple of scans with the tricorder. "The doctor should be reviewing your data now. If you'll wait just a few moments more, we'll find out if you're about to be paged down to Sickbay for a more intrusive examination or if you can resume your duties."

Xayella laughed abruptly, derisively. "Intrusive? This has already been intrusive, on my work, my valuable, precious time...." She narrowed her eyes at Cris and asked again, "What was your name? Ensign..."

"Sef-ton," Cristobel stated slowly, making no response to her other comments.

"Well, Ensign Sef-ton," she replied equally as slowly, "you're a nuisance. Has anyone ever told you that? Or have they simply not had the guts to?"

"No one has had the guts to say that," Cris exclaimed elatedly. Suddenly deflated, he added, "It's kind of disappointing, really. You'd think that, in general, Starfleet officers would be more direct about it - more efficient."

"Well, I'm not like other Starfleet officers," she replied quite proudly. "But yes, it is quite disheartening. It's much more fun snapping off rude comments to individuals who can deal them right back instead of breaking down into tears." She sighed resignedly. "Though, I have promised to be good...." Then she grinned at Cris and added, "But you won't tell if I make you cry...will you?"

"Only to my Corri," Cris said with a grin of his own. "I haven't even told anyone about that time I saw my mother make three nurses cry in the course of a single operation."

"She did, did she?" Xayella smiled with amusement and leaned her rear against her desk as she watched Cris with growing interest. "She sounds like an extraordinary woman. I bet she'd really like me."

"Probably." Cristobel nodded and then deadpanned, "Or she'd tell you to shut up and pass her a hypospray."

She laughed lightly in response. "And that's when I'd absolutely worship the woman. You really should try to be more like her, Sef-ton; I would've given you an easier time to begin with."

"I will remember that," Cristobel promised, with half a smile. "I haven't heard any calls from Sickbay, and so that means you're free to go back to making ensigns weep."

"Well, that was the most tortuous few minutes of my life," she said airily, though in her eyes there was a twinkle of humour. "So...will you be leaving now?"

"Affirmative." Cristobel dropped the tricorder back into his pocket, and showed Tagliesh his empty hands, as he backed out of her office.

Xayella followed him to the door, shooing him away as she went. "No offense, Sef-ton, but good riddance," she said playfully.

---

"Tencils Urprises and a Meeting"
by Lieutenant Sam
and Lieutenant (J.G.) Arthas Hex
Also Barkeep Stencil [NPC+]

Location: Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57906.30, 15h30

***

Arthas Hex entered the lounge in a fresh uniform and a recently washed face. He had gotten ready for his first dutyshift on the bridge and had realised that he still had at least twenty minutes before he would have to go on duty.

Arthas walked up to the bar and was met by a Bolian, in civilian clothes.

"Ah," the Bolian said with a cheerful smile, "another newcomer to my establishment. I'm Stencil, the head bartender here in the lounge."

"Junior Lieutenant Arthas Hex." Arthas offered his hand over the bar. "Glad to meet you."

"Very nice to meet you too, Mr. Hex," Stencil said with a slight bow. "I've known quite a few Trill in my years tending bar. Though, I must say, you do look quite young for a joined Trill. So, Arthas, what can I do for you?"

"Could I have a drink? Uh, I'm not sure which type. Surprise me, just nothing too strong, I'm on duty in twenty minutes," Arthas replied.

With a wide smile, Stencil turned back to the bar. A moment later, he slid a tall glass in front of Arthas with a flourish. "This, I call the Tencils Urprises, though only Tellarites appreciate the humour of the name. Tell me what you think."

"Thank you," Arthas replied taking the drink and tentatively sipping it.

It tasted similar to a Coke but hadn't the same colour, texture or consistency to it. Arthas liked it

"What was this called again?" Arthas said.

"Tencils Urprises," Stencil said with a chuckle.

"Stock up, I'll be having more of these," Arthas smiled.

He turned his back on Stencil and the bar and surveyed the lounge. There were people similar to him spread about the large room, waiting to go for their shift, talking amongst friends. Everything he expected, he turned back and stopped, looked again and noticed an orange topped officer shirt, sitting in the corner of the lounge. He hadn't a drink and he seemed totally content to view the crowd.

"Stencil, who's he?" Arthas asked pointing toward the man.

"That is the Sulu's operations manager."

"Oh that's the android isn't it? Sam?" Arthas asked

"Correct on both counts. He comes in here every once in awhile, but doesn't drink much."

"He look's lonely. Excuse me." Arthas made his way over to Sam.

He arrived in front of the Operations manager. "Junior Lieutenant Arthas Hex, sir," Arthas said.

Sam looked up at the Trill officer standing before him. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant," Sam said. "I am Lieutenant Sam, Operations department. Would you care to have a seat, Arthas?"

"I would love to," Arthas said, putting his tall 'Tencils Urprises' on the table in front of him.

There was a slight uncomfortable silence that often followed Arthas around on dates but Hex decided to break it. "So, do you come here often?"

"I do not," Sam answered. "I have visited the lounge on a few occasions, though it is usually to observe the interactions of the crew. However, today--" he indicated a glass sitting in front of him "--I have chosen to imbibe a beverage as well. You are a recent transfer to the Sulu. How are you acclimating to the new environment?"

Interesting choice of words, Arthas thought to himself, while smiling. "I'm acclimating rather well, I believe. I was on a different starship for many years before having to switch to this one, so it's a little odd not having any friends. If you pardon my asking, how far are you more advanced compared to Commander Data? Do you have emotions?"

"My range of emotional expression is rather limited," Sam said. "Commander Maddox constructed me based off of what information he had available from his time studying Commander Data. While I do not have an Emotion Chip, like the commander's, I have been programmed to experience simulated emotional growth during my lifespan."

"So, you're learning?" Arthas replied

"I believe it could be considered learning, yes," Sam answered. "As I encounter new stimuli in life, my experience and capacity expand."

"What do you do in your spare time then? Do you spend a lot of time observing humans and humanoids?" Arthas asked deeply interested in what Sam had to say.

"That is correct," Sam said. "Additionally, I maintain two duty shifts per day. I have not yet sought entertainment on the holodeck, but I believe I may attempt that soon. It appears to be a primary form of recreation for most of the crew."

"Would you like to join me after my shift?" Arthas asked. "I use the holodeck to ride a horse-like creature. It is exhilarating because the animal understands and responds in basic Trill."

"That would be acceptable, Arthas," Sam said. "I shall meet you at the holodeck at the end of your shift. Will we be attiring ourselves in clothing appropriate to the setting?"

"I have a traditional Trill attire, but you could wear a starfleet uniform suitable to outdoor exercise. I must go now, Sam, it was a pleasure to meet you," Arthas replied, standing.

He offered his hand for Sam to shake

Sam accepted the hand and shook it, mimicking the human gesture.

"And I'll see you outside of the holodeck after my shift," Arthas said as he walked away.

"I shall see you then," Sam called after Arthas, and then returned to his observations. He did, however, divert some of his processor time to equestrian sports.

---

"Getting To Grips"
by Lieutenant (jg) Arthas Hex, Deputy Chief Security Officer

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57906.30, 15h55

***

Arthas exited the turbolift at his destination - the bridge. He looked around the large oval-shaped command center and smiled, Nebula-Class starships like the Blizzard contained bridges that paled in comparison to this fine vessel, and now Arthas was the deputy chief of security aboard one.

Looking at the records, the USS Sulu had only recently been commissioned but the starships previous mission had been exciting, if costly.

Arthas looked to his right and nodded to an ensign who was at the tactical station. He did not recognise the ensign but he wore security yellow and must have been the bridge duty officer for his shift.

Alpha shift was not over for another few minutes but the ensign obviously did not mind as he quickly smiled and left the bridge.

Arthas himself wore the Class-B uniform of black and yellow, although this was slightly different to the usual Class-A of a grey and black, but he had been told that his new captain did not mind about which his officers wore and due to the usual Class-B used on his old ship, he decided to wear the same one.

Arthas took his place at the Tactical station and brought up the displays. Security was under a usual scan by Engineering, fixing small problems and due to the large safety of the Starbase the shield grid was unavailable.

These things have to be done, he thought to himself

Yes, they do. In my day it was much more slack, Gredala started inside of him. 'If it isn't broken why fix it?' was the reply from my engineer aboard the Lexington...

Gredala started to babble, and Arthas simply concentrated on other things.

She soon stopped, quite satisfied to be informing the new host of her history and improving his performance.

Arthas resigned to looking through the previous mission again and thinking up improvements he could suggest to the Chief, and perhaps a security squad training that they could do - if they didn't do already.

Beta shift came and went and Arthas returned to his quarters. After showering he then decided to go to a social place. It was time to meet his new crewmates.

---

"Prelude, Part 2"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Alexandria Druschev - Science Officer

Location: In Transit on board ITS Do Little
Stardate: 57906.30, 16h45

***

Domenic Druschev stared moodily out of a portside view port as the bulk freighter Do Little pulled away from the stardock at Starbase 324. The nine year old boy watched as his home slowly reduced in size until he could see the whole Starbase hanging above the Gas Giant like a poised dagger. The cloud of smaller ships and cargo pods, maintenance pods and the few Starfleet vessels in the orbital parking station became glimmering dots of reflected light as the civilian freighter increased her impulse power.

It wasn't fair! All his friends were on that Starbase - at least there was room to explore and thousands of people both Starfleet and civilian to interact with. He was going to a stupid little Starfleet Intrepid Class Starship with a few hundred crew - all Starfleet! It wasn't even a real family ship like a Galaxy! There wasn't even a school for him to attend! He'd have to complete studies over the Sub-space relay! His mom had told him it was better that way - he'd be able to do everything at his own pace - learn in an environment that would expose him to exploration and be where the 'action' was!

Domenic wasn't fooled at all. He pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the port and focused his eyes on his own face. A shock of blonde hair and blue eyes looked back at him, mocking his mood. It was all because of that asshole Covington! He hated the Starfleet Officer and everything he represented. His mom didn't understand. She thought he just hated the men she went out with. The real truth was he hated Starfleet! She wouldn't listen to that - how could anyone hate Starfleet? Self righteous arrogant know-it-all Starfleet! His grandparents were Starfleet - his mom and even his real dad were officers serving in the mighty fleet! There was no way Dom was going to follow the mind-washing indoctrination that had forced his mom to suffer in the fleet! If only she had stayed on Earth! He was sure she'd be an important scientist if she just escaped the uniform of a drone! That was all she was in the scheme of the fleet. A drone. A worker-bee that did as she was told by assholes that didn't know as much or understood even less.

Domenic wasn't going that way. As soon as he was old enough he was going to Earth to study. He'd be 'somebody'!

The Starbase was a bright star now hanging next to a green jewel in the black of space. The freighter accelerated to warp drive and the light elongated into lines of rainbow hue. They were heading for Risa. At least that would be fun - not that he wanted to be with 'girls' - they were mostly stupid - and at nine years old he didn't see what all the fuss was about. Of course he knew all about the reproduction process and the eventual attraction that they would have - but intellectually they were a distraction that he didn't need.

Some of the older boys made a big deal about sex - but Domenic thought they were stupid too. When a male reached a certain age that was all they worried about! Especially when it came to his mom. She was beautiful - Domenic knew that, but the men she went out with only saw that - not her intellect or her personality! He just knew that they were only interested in her for one thing! Didn't she see that? No, she didn't.

It made him so mad! They deserved everything they got! He smiled at that. Memories of David Covington sputtering mad as spaghetti dripped from his pristine uniform. Wasn't his fault that he'd tripped while carrying dinner to the table...ruined a 'family' dinner that did. No matter how he acted - Covington would never be a member of Domenic's family! He couldn't replace a real dad. It didn't matter that Domenic had never met his real dad. Of course it was Starfleet that had sent him away from his mom. And Starfleet that had kept them apart.

Bloody Starfleet!

"Don't be so miserable, Dom." Natalia Druschev tousled her son's hair as he looked out of their cabin port. She stood behind him and watched the stars squeezed into bands of Doppler-shifted waves. She placed a hand on Domenic's shoulder and squeezed it gently. He'd get over it quickly she knew. A new home and a chance at seeing more of the real universe was what he needed. The exposure to a real Starfleet ship and crew would do him good. Maybe he'd get into an early academy program..

"I hate it." Domenic moved his shoulder away from his mom's grip with a flick that shrugged off the affection.

Natalia sighed and stepped away. "You'll get over it," she said in that typical motherly voice that made it clear that the boy had no choice and would get over it because she was right and he was wrong.

"There'll be no-one my age there, mom!" Domenic turned on the bench seat under the port and crossed his arms. He gave her his best 'I'm never going to comply' look. "Have you read the specs on the Intrepid?" he asked in disgust. "It's smaaallll." He dragged out the word as if it was the deepest of insults. "What am I going to do?" he asked. "It only has a few holodecks - and you can bet they'll be rationed! I won't be able to do anything!"

Natalia smiled and hunched down in front of her miserable-looking son. "Dom - it won't be that bad! The Sulu is a good ship - she's new - with the best technology available to the Federation. You'll be able to see the universe - not just learn from others! We'll be out there amongst the stars witnessing things that have never been seen before - exploring and expanding on the knowledge of the Federation. That's exciting, Dom!" She tried to get him to look into her eyes, but he avoided that and just pouted. He was being sulky.

"You can study just as well there as at the Starbase. I bet the holodecks will be available because everyone else will be working..." She knew that wasn't exactly the case... Training programs were an important part of Starfleet duty and off-hours crew on three shifts would be using the decks to unwind. There was no point in making the situation worse. She told herself again that he'd get over it once he was there. He'd be swept up with the excitement of Starfleet just like she had been when his age.

---

"Downtime, Part 1"
by: Lieutenant Samantha Ashbury

Location: Ashbury Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57906.30 20h00

***

The Ashburys had enjoyed some quality downtime during the Sulu's brief visit to Starbase 163. Sam had never been to Starbase 163 and Michael had visited only briefly, years before during his tour on the Endeavour. With the usual assortment of alien cultures to be found at any Federation starbase, Sam had thoroughly enjoyed exploring, usually with Madison in tow. Madison seemed to be picking up her mother's interest in other cultures along with her father's outgoing and vibrant personality. It was proving to be an interesting combination.

Sam recalled with a shudder the time when Madison asked an Andorian if his antennae were anything similar to the antennae of an ant or a bee. Surprisingly, the Andorian hadn't gotten angry at all. He'd simply laughed himself silly and told Madison, 'Yes'. That had seemed to satisfy her daughter's curiosity about Andorian antennae.

At the moment, Michael was off with Madison on one of the holodecks, exploring a popular children's holobook. Sam was writing up reports for the science department and finishing the analysis of the Dorvali ecological system.

The comm panel beeped, drawing Sam's attention away from her reports. She set down her padd, scooped Ash off her lap - he looked at her with one golden eye before going back to sleep - and stood up.

"Computer accept incoming transmission," Sam said as she sat down at the desk. The standard Federation symbol blinked out to be replaced by a very familiar face.

"Tular!" Sam said with surprise. Tular had been one of her astrophysics professors and her host at the Vulcan Science Academy. "I haven't talked to you in months. How have you been?"

"Samantha, it is agreeable to see you again," Tular responded with what could only be called warmth from a Vulcan. "I have been well. I trust everything is well with you?"

"Tular, that's the most emotion I've seen you display since I interrupted you in my very first class," Sam said teasingly.

"I know," Tular said gravely. "I will have to cut back. How are Michael and Madison?"

"They're well. Michael took Madison to the holodeck a little while ago. He won't be back for a while."

"I understand. Give him my greetings. Now, I trust you've been monitoring the reports from the -793 system?"

Down to business. Sam mentally reviewed the reports that she had received. The -793 system was a binary system, home to a white dwarf and a red supergiant. The white dwarf was on the verge of collecting the 1.4 solar masses necessary for a type IA supernova, an event that had only been studied a handful of times at close proximity by Federation scientists.

The more common type of supernova, type II, had been studied extensively because of the short time frame the stars underwent before the supernova detonation. With type II supernova it was usually only a matter of hours between the last phase of the star's collapse and the subsequent supernova. With a type IA supernova, the process took thousands of years.

"I have. How close is the white dwarf to collecting the necessary mass?"

"Several days - maybe a week. The Vulcan Science Academy dispatched a vessel two months ago to monitor the event. I trust you would like all the data as it becomes available?"

"Absolutely. I'm sorry I can't be there myself to see it," Sam said regretfully.

"As am I. It would be quite an...experience."

"Yes, it would," Sam agreed. "How are T'pel and the kids?"

"T'pel is well. Tolan is starting at Starfleet Academy next year and Sural will be entering the Science Academy in the fall."

"I'm glad to hear it." Sam's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "You know, you could have just sent a standard communiqué about the data."

"T'pel insisted that I contact you directly," Tular said gravely. "We hadn't heard from you in some time, since you left Starfleet Academy at the end of the last term. The experience on Calevere was...difficult for you. We would regret it if anything were to happen to you, Samantha."

For a Vulcan, that statement was the human equivalent of saying that Tular and T'pel had been worried sick about Sam.

"Thank you, Tular," Sam said softly. "I'll keep in touch better from now on."

"Live long and prosper, Samantha," Tular replied in the traditional Vulcan manner. With that, the screen went blank.

---

"Sumptuous Supper Soiree For Two"
By Corran Quezith
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton

Location: USS Sulu, Mess Hall
Stardate 57906.30, 20h04

***

"Maybe we shouldn't have left our quarters," Cristobel decided out loud, once he stepped into the mess hall. "I suspect we may not find a table here, and if we'd stayed in our quarters, we'd have a perfectly good table to eat off of and we could have left our clothes off."

We can still do that, stud. It's a turbolift away... He projected the image of them both nude, dancing around, eating, and of course doing other things, but then he glanced around the Mess Hall. "This might have some charm though." He wasn't so sure about that statement.

Bringing certainty to Corran's indecision, Cristobel told him, "You're right. It'll be refreshing to socialise with officers who aren't sick or dy-- Oh! That table in the corner, where no one will bother us, just got empty." Cris grasped Corran's hand and dashed towards the two-chaired table, wedged between a wall and a viewport, startling the departing officers in the process. Waiting for the unhurried pair to carry away their empty trays, Cris said to Corran, "Besides, there are plenty of more hours, before the next alpha shift, to have sex during."

"Wow, we've gone from having nice long love sessions to making it all casual, now haven't we? Kinda makes you hungry." He grinned teasingly and winked at Cris as he glanced around them. The mess was definitely full today, but he imagined it was like this all the time. There were only so many places you could relax onboard a starship, and that's what the Miranda had taught him.

Cris sat in the chair with his back to the viewport, firmly claiming the table. Gently, he kicked Corran's chair out for him, as he grinned lopsidedly. "Neither of us are Deltan, and even being young only affords a finite amount of stamina. I don't see anything wrong with casual - it satisfies all the same, and it keeps the infrequent hours-long holonovel-esque nights from getting boring. I do agree with you on the hungry part, though." He looked down to the padd he customarily carried around, and called up the menu of what food was being prepared freshly tonight.

Corran shrugged. "Well yeah, you're right about that...but, let's see just how right you are with that menu of yours." His brow cocked up as he eyed the padd and then Cristobel. He'd never dated anyone this organized. Cris had a padd for almost everything, even though he too loved improvising every now and then.

"Meh. I'm not too shiny with what's being served," Cristobel decided and cleared the screen on his padd. He cocked his head to the side, and looked up to watch Corran's eyes shift colour, almost undiscernibly, for a moment. He looked down at his padd again, but quickly shoved it away towards the edge of the table. "The replicator's menu is much too massive to read through - what flavours are you in the mood for?"

"Something sweet and sour, and spicy..." He made a strange face as he looked at the replicator, and then it struck him. "On my world we have a dish similar to Earth's oriental dishes, a bird close to the chicken that's bathed in a sweet sauce that's spicy...no, wait. I don't feel like chicken." He crossed his arms thoughtfully as his eyes shifted slightly and looked into Cristobel's. "Something light."

"Save the table," Cris instructed as he rose to his feet, undaunted by the vague request. "I'll be back in a few hundred jiffies."

Cristobel returned from the replicator in a few seconds, with a pair of spicy Chinese cucumber salads and sweet iridescent-purple syntheholic drinks. "Okay. So. I've had a night and a day to think on it, and I still can't make up my mind. I need to know what you think. Would it just be asking for vexation by inviting a third of the junior officers on the ship to another attempt at a games night in a week or so?"

"Depends on if you liked the first one..." Corran chuckled. He had gone out to work in the science labs when Cris had been playing with some of his coworkers. It had been a perfect example of how they were still capable of having separate lives and enjoying their lives together, or at least Corran felt that way. He wasn't so sure how much Cris had enjoyed himself though, he'd felt mixed emotions coming off Cris the entire time he'd been in the game and after it. Must have had everything to do with making new friends.

"I can't figure if I liked it or not. I mean, I don't think I made any new friends and I ended up arguing with my alreadyfriend, Amy, but I don't think I want to give up on trying to find a group dynamic with some of the new officers." Cris shrugged, trying to find the right way to explain it. He ended up thinking aloud, sounding lost in reminiscence. "I didn't have it on the Miranda. I had roommate number one to argue with, roommate number two to drink with, the security chief to vent with, and you to have sex with, and none of you knew one another. At the Academy, my group of friends were really tight - even though it feels like it only lasted for a second, really - I wish I could get something like that back." Cristobel blinked hard and stuffed his mouth with lettuce, the rational part of his brain taking over. Shaking his head, he muttered, "It's foolish of me to try so hard to create synergy."

"Yes, it is," Corran answered solidly. He sipped some of his juice before he explained himself, "Let someone else in the band decide what the group should do. It shouldn't have to be a game, you don't really learn about each other if you're all only agreeing to sit around a table instead of all agreeing to sit into an event planned by one of you, a different one of you, each time. Someone might want to go to the movies, another might want to play water polo, someone might be into going to bars, making dinners at their place or sharing lunch." Corran had only begun to understand how complex social outings were with non-telepaths after he'd returned to Achicar Prime. They tried so hard to understand each other but instead of understanding they excluded and forced others into their own fun. In some ways, it worked because they could find someone that their interests combined with, but in another manner, it closed the doors on many others.

Cristobel nodded thoughtfully at Corran's words and afterthoughts. "That would be an interesting plan, Corri...if there was a group to speak of. There's a plethora of strangers, a handful of separate acquaintances, and then just me. Even if I can turn my acquaintances into friends, I don't know if they'd even want to be friends with my other acquaintances. And while I'm all pro-egalitarianism, I'm not going to sit and wait to be invited out for some fun."

"Then don't sit and wait." He smirked at Cris as he ate some of his own salad and pathed the rest to him: I'm suggesting you get a group of people together and bring this idea up with them to see how they react. The ones interested will stay, the ones not will disappear. You can't lose what you don't have.

Perhaps, Cristobel responded playfully. But I'll pitch it in such a way that it sounds less like organised fun. Wouldn't want to have to set up an itinerary just to play a game. Cristobel smirked as he munched on more of the tangy salad. Once he swallowed, he asked, "Now, since you have been spending so much of your time in the science labs, tell me: what do you think of the Chief Science Officer?"

"Would you be terribly surprised to know I haven't met the Chief?" Corran smirked unsatisfactorily. He had to be honest with himself, he'd been sort of sneaking his way around, purposefully avoiding people as much as he could. He got bashful as he started to play with his food using his fork.

Telepathically catching on that Corran had avoided more than simply the Chief of Sciences, Cristobel gently placed his fork down and looked directly at Corran. "Not surprised to find out you'd avoid her, considering her rep, but why the rest of the science staff?" Cris asked from genuine curiosity.

"I sort of ignored the reputations and gossip, and telepathy..." He blushed embarrassingly just before explaining, "After everything that happened on the Miranda I just sorta got the feeling it's best to take things extra slow, acquaint myself and then introduce myself... I know a lot of people take it as deception if they find out but non telepaths in the Federation make me nervous...excepting on Earth."

Nodding as Corran spoke, Cris squeezed the back of Corran's fork-free hand with both of his hands. He didn't have Achicarian gills on his palms to transmit emotions, but even simple physical contact could be of utmost comfort. Cristobel optimistically asked, "Taking it slow is making your transition onto the Sulu comfortable, then?"

"I'm just...nervous. Of so many people on your starships, only a handful are truly prepared to welcome and meet new races...the others are scared. I feel endangered somehow." He did take some comfort in Cris' hold, especially since he'd felt fairly lonely since they'd come aboard.

His gaze unwavering from Corran's eyes, Cristobel entreated, "Is there anything I can do?"

Corran looked at him with a bright smile, changing his mood completely. "Protect me!" he joked.

"I shall try, my Imzadi." Suddenly grinning amusedly, Cristobel faux-seriously informed Corran, "It could prove to be difficult, though, as my qualification to use hand-phasers is something of a technicality, more than a reality, not to mention that I don't like them. But I do have easy access to anaesthetic hyposprays now."

Corran sighed and shook his head. "Have I taught you nothing? Just use those hot and sexy looks of yours, you can nail 'em no matter what."

"Mo dhia!" Cristobel cursed in Betazoid (a phrase for which there was no direct FS translation), and pointed at a young Security officer across the mess hall. "He's about to attack you. I must defend your honour, and fight him off. With sex."

Corran laughed heartily at Cristobel's reaction, but decided he'd go in for the kill as his voice started to carry out to him gently, slowly raising in volume, every intention of making Cris blush and to let his own emotions out into a simple song. A little tune he'd picked up from Earth.

"I'll be there when you're sleepin', and every hour you're awake... I wanna hear your secrets--wanna share your worries, wanna go the deepest--I don't wanna hurry. I wanna take a lifetime to memorize your face. Wanna hold you closer--kiss you longer, wanna hear your heartbeat--stronger and stronger...

"Wanna know you all over, 'til I know you be heart. Gotta know you with all that I got.

"I wanna know you that good! Like no one knows you. Gonna reach way down deep in your mind. I wanna get to know you--wanna get to know, wanna get to know you that good!

"Gonna know you right through. You know I want to. So badly it hurts all the time. I wanna get to know you--wanna get to know, wanna get to know you that good. Yeah... I wanna know you that good..."

"Every feel of your fingers-every curl in your hair... Don't wanna miss a minute--wanna be right in it. Do everything you're doin'--go everywhere you're goin'!

"Wanna know you all over, 'til I know you by heart. Gotta know you with all that I got...

"I wanna know you that good! Like no one knows you. Gonna reach way down deep in your mind. I wanna get to know you--wanna get to know, wanna get to know you that good!

"Wanna know you that good! Wanna know your emotions--wanna taste every tear. Wanna hear you breathin'--feel what your feelin'... I wanna get to know... Know you that good! Like no one knows you. Gonna reach way down deep in your mind! I wanna get to know you--wanna get to know... I wanna get to know you--wanna get to know... Wanna get to know you! To know you! I wanna know you by heart... I wanna know you that good..."

As strange as the obviously Terran song sounded to Cristobel, he couldn't help grinning uncontrollably throughout the song and clapping rabidly once it was complete -- he loved Corran's voice. So much for taking it slow, Corr, Cris teased. I do believe you have seduced everyone in this room into not being afraid of you and your psionic prowess.

Corran chuckled as he stood up and bowed to the rest of the crew mess as a few others applauded. Once he sat down he was completely red. "Hey, I have to have some fun around here don't I?" I mean, besides with you of course, not that you were out of this dinner's fun...

Cristobel put down his glass after taking a large gulp. "Of course! I'm a huge fan of you having fun," he insisted, with eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, but sometimes you answer you're too tired..." He was recalling the one night they'd gotten back together and had had sex for almost two days.- Corran had been ready for another round on the second day but Cris had been exhausted. He chuckled at him warmly.

Gaping playfully, Cris defended, "Betazoids are fragile." Suddenly putting on an air of sophistication, Cristobel offered, "Besides, there are pleasures to be found beyond the sensual."

Corran laughed at the intonation before posing himself, "Oh of course, I will tend to you with the use of specialized gloves from now on. I wouldn't want to hurt you." He batted his eyelashes sweetly and seriously.

"Seriously though, I don't exactly know how to approach people anymore. I've lost my touch!" His eyes widened exaggeratedly as he finished off his food with one last bite.

"You're kidding, right?" Cristobel asked astonished. "Lost your touch? Bah. Let's not even consider that. On the Miranda, you made many, many more friends than me in significantly less time, because that was over a year ago, and people change. What we must consider, though, is that, now, half the people in this room wanna get to know you - wanna get to know you that good. Can't you feel it?"

"Oh good, you're good Cris..." He chuckled at the reversal of tune, glancing around themselves briefly as he caught a few eyes from the people in the crew mess. If only they knew he was reading their minds, he knew they wouldn't be smiling so much. What was worse was he felt guilty for reading their minds, with these people being so paranoid about telepaths... "I should take up Boothby's style of living."

Shaking his head in confusion, Cris simply asked, "Boothby?" The guilt radiating off of Corran overshadowed any of the conscious thoughts Cris might have been able to pick from Corran's mind.

"Groundskeeper for your Academy..." Corran was looking out the viewports now, his mind seemingly light-years away. He was...feeling his telepathic twin for a moment. He turned his eyes away from space and to Cristobel again. "This is a second chance assignment from my people, Cris. If I don't succeed in adapting here, they won't have any Achicarians joining your fleet."

"Well then I'm going to work extra hard to ensure you find your very own place on this ship," Cristobel assured him. "The Achicarians aren't the first telepaths to join the Federation, and I'm sure there must be some you can contact, who are much wiser than me, to give you advice. What was Boothby's philosophy, anyway?"

As usual, Cris had a way of dismissing Corran's concerns in a good way. He smiled and started talking about Boothby, the elderly man he'd met on the Academy grounds when he'd gone to Earth to find Cris. "To garden, and to garden. If he had some kind of advice to offer, he did, and he was usually good at it. I accused him of being telepathic..."

Cristobel chuckled and finished off his drink. "It's sounding like you need to start your begging to create an arboretum on board. Having your own garden to tend to ought to give you a distraction from the loud Starfleet minds. Till then, I could have my mother give you some pep talks. She was the first person in her family to join Starfleet, I'll have you know. She was even the first of them to leave Betazed at all."

"Did she have as many difficulties adapting?"

"Not as many," Cristobel responded tentatively. "While she had similar concerns, she never really changed around her belief system to think that reading thoughts is wrong or an invasion of 'privacy.' Out of politeness, she does restrain herself, but she has never, and will never, feel guilty for just having that constant passive awareness of the minds around her. Plus, she ignores the thoughts and words of mouth-talkers who are paranoid about telepathy. They're a waste of time."

Corran sighed this time. Passive-awareness wasn't a common practice with his people; they were like the Borg, all interconnected all the time. It just became a habit and custom since birth. "This isn't going to be easy."

"If it was easy, you wouldn't have a job, darling," Cris reminded Corran. "Aren't you excited? You are engineering the future social culture of those of your people who choose to live among the civilisations of the Federation!"

"I just don't know if I'm all that excited, I mean...the inhibitions, the silence. It almost killed my people when we lost billions in the massacre...how are individuals going to survive in this lake?" He was actually tense and even a little upset at the concept. He and a few others of his people had been given the hefty assignment of figuring out how their people could adapt to Federation society, because the alternative was to simply remain on their own world, with their own fleets, even if they were part of the Federation.

"As explorers we never had these problems, even if it did cause Savior Fleet to decimate my people."

"I'm...sorry. I keep on thinking of the Achicarians as if they're simply Betazoids new to outside worlds, but you're not. Your telepathic abilities and culture are completely different, and you shouldn't have to give any of it up," Cris insisted. "Don't be inhibited; refuse to let your mind fill with silence. The Federation is about uniting worlds just as they are. The Achicarians shouldn't have to change much at all to get accustomed to the UFP; it's the Federation that has to grow accustomed to your people."

"But if they grow to fear or hate us here?"

"There are many races with varying telepathic abilities already living, friction-free, among the Federation," Cristobel answered through example. "I think you may be underestimating the Federation's ability to adapt."

"I think I'm worried because several races came together once already to try and eradicate my people..." His eyes flickered, not settling on any color as his emotions were perturbed. This had never been an easy topic for him at all, and to think he had been considered one of the best candidates for introduction to the Federation because of his experience in the field of exploration...

"The Federation defends its own," Cristobel told him consolingly. "Starfleet may tend towards overaggressive at times, but it's on the same side of the Achicarians, and will be there for your people. Hell, Starfleet's even been known to prevent the eradication of its worst enemies."

And to that, Corran finally had no answer. He'd read about those cases, but there was one with a fleet officer attempting to run the fleet over and take command of it and the government... Thankfully, it hadn't happened. "Alright."

"You can do this." Cristobel slightly pouted at how unsettled Corran still seemed to be. "Now... Does somebody need dessert?"

---

"Downtime, Part 2"
By: Lieutenant Samantha Ashbury
Lieutenant Michael Ashbury

Location: Ashbury Quarters
Date: 57906.30 22h00

***

Sam hadn't gotten much done since her brief conversation with Tular. She'd sat curled up in her favorite chair, staring out at the stars beyond the window. It was strange how the galaxy tended to view Vulcans: aloof, arrogant, uncaring. The reality of it couldn't be more different. Sam had learned such during her four years on Vulcan. No one could express more in just a few words or a mere touch than a Vulcan. Sam had learned that Vulcans care just as much as other races did; even more so in some cases because they tightly suppressed all emotions. They had learned over the millennia not to show it and to rely on subtle nuances instead. Her conversation with Tular had made her realize what she'd been doing just recently. She'd found herself pushing people away without really meaning to.

She hadn't really thought about pushing away those who cared about her; it just seemed to have happened. Her own internal logic told her that other people couldn't possibly understand her own ambivalent feelings about being back onboard a ship. Michael was always there - and he definitely understood her own personal feelings about Calevere. He had his feelings about his own personal experience - an experience that Sam's mind still shied away from imagining. She couldn't imagine being accused of the murder of a spouse. That sort of experience was unthinkable - at least to her. For Michael however, it was reality and Sam knew he still wrestled with his own private demons from that hellish experience.

The doors hissed open behind her. Ash's ears flicked slightly as he raised his head from his curled position in Sam's lap. Madison ran into the main room, almost leaping with excitement.

"I got to help the water sprite today!" she said gleefully as she leaped into her mother's lap. Ash had seen this coming and moved onto a safer place - the floor. Michael entered the quarters a moment later, chuckling slightly.

"Well, good for you," Sam said as she shifted into a more comfortable position. "So, tell me everything that happened."

Madison went on to tell the story of the fifth chapter of Merrill's Adventures with all the enthusiasm of a five-year old. Sam listened patiently as Madison described the several adventures that Jora the water sprite had gone through trying to help her tree friends prepare for the coming winter.

***Later***

Michael stepped quietly out of Madison's room. "I thought she'd never settle down," he sighed as he sat down next to Sam on the couch. "That's the last time I take her to the holodeck at night."

"That's what you said last time," Sam said wryly. Michael snorted with laughter but didn't say anything. Sam was quiet for a moment. "Tular called tonight."

"How is he?"

"He's good. Michael, he was worried about me, about us. That says something I think. I guess I haven't done very good in keeping in touch with everybody lately. I know they're worried but..."

"I know." Michael wrapped one arm around Sam's shoulders. "I think a lot of people were worried about how we would handle this. I know Mom and Dad were really worried for a while."

Sam was surprised at that. Michael wasn't very good at keeping secrets; he was just too open about most things. But she hadn't had any idea that his folks were worried about her.

"You didn't say anything," she said, almost accusingly.

Michael looked at her in surprise. "I didn't want to worry you about it. Your folks left me with very strict instructions to let them know if anything happened. My folks too."

"Oh." Sam suddenly felt very foolish. She should have known better than to assume people weren't worried about her. "I just feel like I've been pushing people away lately. It's almost like I don't think they understand."

"I think people understand better than you think," Michael said thoughtfully. "They don't know exactly what happened or why you have such strong feelings about Calevere and many times they don't need or want to know. That doesn't matter. If you want to tell them, you will. They understand that. They just know that it's troubling you. They also know you love them and you'll work through this eventually. And that they're always there to talk to if you need them. Sometimes, that helps even more."

Sam mulled that over. If there was one thing about family, it was that they were always there. Her folks had a saying: 'You don't choose family; family chooses you.' Family always being there wasn't always a good thing; sometimes it was downright inconvenient. But at times like this, it could be very helpful.

"I guess I've just been preoccupied with being back on a ship," Sam said in a small voice. "More worried about my own fears than anyone else's."

Michael's arm tightened around her perceptibly. "I know. Me too. But if it helps any, you did fine on Dorvali. I was a nervous wreck at first. I'm still a nervous wreck if you're off the ship. But I suppose facing your fears is the first step to overcoming them. Or so my folks used to say." Michael's face took on a pained expression. "Not that it really helped with sky diving for me. Haven't gone sky diving since but still... The theory is sound, right?"

Sam burst out laughing. Michael looked at her with concern. "Feeling any better now?" he asked. Sam nodded, still chuckling over his sky diving comment.

"Much," she said as she kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he said with a grin. "That's what we men are here for: a shoulder to lean on and comic relief."

---