"First Assignments"
by Chief Counsellor Resanna Jhenal
Counsellor Ainsley Chambers
and Lieutenant Grixble Flummux

Location: USS Sulu, Deck 5 Counselling Area
Stardate: 57907.01, 08h35

***

As the shift schedule began to settle in from the night shift to that of the morning, the regally dressed Counsellor Jhenal believed now would be the perfect time. After showing her newest assisting counsellor the lay of the land, Resanna began to introduce her to the individual offices that she had under her control. With a nice sit and chat with fellow counsellor, Galil F'Zal, they moved out into the corridor bridging all four offices.

"Ensign Mel'Chir, I still believe, suffers from night terrors. The experience with the aliens of Dorvali 449 would do that to even the most brave of officers. I want you to see her at least two times a week. Whenever your schedule will permit it. She is very open about the situation, but tends to babble.

"Lieutenant Tagliesh--" Counsellor Jhenal paused, giving a brief sigh of annoyance at the mere mention of her name. "I am meeting with once a week. In a few days in fact. You should also meet with Ensign Jarod Steele. Be careful, he was reprimanded for getting a little...vigorous with the female officers. Some bet. If you have any problems, give him to Counsellor F'Zal."

The Counsellor had hoped she wasn't laying too much onto the new officer. While it was only a few patients, it still was a handful to deal with on her first assignment. "Also, F'zal, you and myself will meet for biweekly updates on how things are going. I hope I'm not laying too much on your shoulders, Counsellor Chambers."

Ainsley shook her head lightly. "No, this should be fine Counsellor." She looked around the office a little. When she had first seen that the other counsellors on the Sulu were both Betazoid she had gotten a little nervous, wondering how they would look upon a Terran with absolutely no telepathic or even real empathic abilities joining their department. Since meeting with the two counsellors she was feeling a little more at ease.

"And I'm sure I'll be able to handle Ensign Jarod Steele if he gets to vigorous with me." She grinned at Jhenal.

"Good. There are a few other members of this crew that can be a bit of a handful, you just have to know how to--"

Counsellor Jhenal paused, sensing an oddity coming from down the corridor. Something to which she had sensed much earlier. Though, Jhenal wouldn't dare speak it - let alone consciously admit it, she dreaded what was coming down her way.

"Hello," a tentative voice called. "Counsellor Jhenal? It's Grixble. We, uh, we did have a meeting today, right?" He made a sniffling sound and could be heard shuffling forward. "Oh dear. Counsellor?"

"Lieutenant Flummux, I believe that was in two days. Right now I'm giving our newest counsellor, Ensign Chambers, a tour of the Counselling section. And I have a meeting with Crewman Parlov. If you wish, Ensign Chambers can sit in for this emergency session..."

"I do really need to talk to someone. Oh thank you very much, Counsellor. Thank you. Oh dear. Should I just...just tell you now, or should I lie on the couch?"

Ainsley looked at Jhenal for a moment and then back at the Lieutenant who had come rushing in. "Well... Lieutenant, please make yourself comfortable. If you'd rather lie on the couch that's perfectly fine, but it's not necessary."

"It is a comfortable couch," Grixble answered, and quickly stretched his thin frame onto it. "This is much better. This doesn't really feel like a counselling office if I'm not on the couch. I mean...I didn't mean-- Oh dear. I mean, it's a counselling office, but I don't feel comfortable... Oh I don't know what I mean. This is better though. Thank you very much. Oh dear."

Resanna smiled. "Enjoy your first assignment aboard the Sulu, Ensign Chambers." Tilting her head, she nodded and departed Ensign Chambers' office.

---

"First Impression"
by Ensign Niesha
Captain Salinger

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.01 11h10

***

It had been a long hard day for Niesha. She was finally on the Shuttle heading to the USS Sulu, her new assignment. Packing was such hard work she had taken fifteen minute breaks every hour. The stray thought brought a smile to Niesha's face. She did like life's small luxuries as they weren't often thrown her way.

Most people found her to be a little...'strange' was the best word to describe it. Most people thought her to be human which usually put her in a bad mood, as she was far from human; humanoid, yes, but that was where the similarities ended. That and her constant companion Ash who never really liked any of the women she was interested in.

The fact was the only real woman Ash liked was Anna, her long lost lover. It seemed only yesterday Niesha was in Anna's arms in her quarters, enjoying the touch of her soft skin and her warmth. A single tear appeared in her eye, running down her cheek. Niesha never noticed it until she looked up and saw her reflection in the cockpit window.

"Not a good idea meeting your commanding officer for the first time with tears," she whispered to herself, wiping the tear away with her right hand. It was in that moment that sensors picked up the warp signature of the USS Sulu right where she was supposed to be, which was a strange difference as in most of her experience captains usually made detours.

She quickly flew the small shuttle into the back of the vessel after getting clearance from the bridge to come aboard. The shuttle glided through the open bay doors, passing through the force field like a hot knife through butter.

"Computer, locate Captain Salinger."

"Captain Matthew Salinger is currently in the captain's ready room," replied the computer while Niesha was making her way out of the shuttle bay.

She'd heard a few interesting thinks about the captain, firstly he was one of the youngest captains in the Federation at the moment and in their short history. Secondly this was his first command but by the records Niesha had read he seemed to have potential. But records were a poor substitute for firsthand experience, so only time would tell if her feelings would prove right. The moment she came aboard the Sulu, it felt like coming home. She had a feeling she was going to like it here.

Then she suddenly stopped at entering the turbolift. She turned and saw Ash seated right beside her, breathing quietly with his mouth open and his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. "I don't think he'd appreciate seeing a wolf stroll into his ready room or onto the bridge...but then again you will have to meet sooner or later. Might as well get it out of the way." With a smile she pressed the button to call the lift. Stepping inside with Ash right behind her, she headed up to the bridge to meet with her commanding officer for the first time.

When the turbolift doors opened it seemed as if all sound on the bridge ceased while the entire crew present glanced at the arriving lift, and then stopped to stare at the woman and creature standing there. From the center of the bridge, a man cocked his head to the side, his golden eyes glittering in the light of the bridge. He was about to speak when another man approached from the opposite side.

"It's okay, Sam," said the man, the captain by the four solid pips on his collar, "I'll handle this." He took several more steps toward the center of the bridge to stop and regard the pair. "Crewman, I suggest you take your pet back to your quarters and make certain that it stays there. You might also consider making arrangements to have it transferred to someplace more hospitable to a wolf than the rather small confines of a small, Starfleet-issue cabin aboard an Intrepid-class starship. Perhaps a pet the size of a wolf was acceptable on your previous posting, but the Sulu is a small ship and doesn't have the resources to make such accommodations. We will be arriving at Risa soon, so perhaps you will be able to make more amenable arrangements..."

"Thank you, Captain," she replied, bowing her head at him. "Do not worry he doesn't bite, often." She looked down at the wolf and spoke something in El-Aurian. Ash looked around the bridge, sniffing the air before following the El-Aurian off the bridge back into the turbolift with the door sighing as it closed behind her.

It took Niesha an hour to arrange suitable accommodation for herself with enough space for her companion as well, once the wolf had sniffed the entire quarters he seemed comfortable. "Now I'm off to see the captain and introduce myself. I don't want this place looking like a bomb's hit it like the last time. Clear?"

The reaction she got indicated Ash knew exactly what she was saying as he instantly lowered his head as if shamed of what he did.

"Okay...there's a treat in if for you when I get back, otherwise the couch is yours." Smiling Niesha walked out of her newly acquired living quarters, hearing the sound of Ash jumping up onto the couch, moving around until he was comfortable where he crashed down like a ton of bricks.

It was getting on in the day coming up to 1400 hours when Niesha returned to the bridge. Most of those on the bridge were the same crewmen who had seen her with Ash little over an hour ago. The looks she got brought a soft smile to her face. She almost came under the urge to shout 'boo!' to them all, but her El-Aurian heritage held her back.

Her finger touched the button at the door of the captain's ready room. She waited for a few seconds before she got a reply. The door slid to the side, revealing the ready room beyond and the young captain awaiting her.

"Good afternoon, Captain." She spoke just above her whisper, using her El-Aurian charm to full affect; the room almost seemed brighter as she stepped through the doorway.

"Good afternoon," Captain Matt Salinger said without looking up from the padd in front of him. "I see that you've chosen to keep your pet aboard the Sulu. While I can understand the attachment, I do not believe it is fair to an animal of that size to keep it in your private quarters aboard a starship, especially one with the size of quarters here on the Sulu. Perhaps if this were a Galaxy-class starship with its luxury accommodations, there wouldn't be a problem. But, the Sulu is an Intrepid-class starship with quite a bit less space."

The El-Aurian nodded despite the fact the captain wasn't even looking in her direction. "I have gone over this with him, Captain and I assure you that he was quite happy to stay aboard. There will be a lot of adjustment for the both of us but I'm sure we'll adapt."

Matt looked up at her and then gestured Niesha toward one of the chairs opposite his desk. "Welcome aboard, Ensign," he said. "I hope, despite the situation with your pet, that you're getting settled aboard the ship. We'll be leaving the starbase in a couple days. I've talked to Lt. McKenzie and for now he's placing you on primary control for gamma shift. Ensign Haskins was scheduled for that spot, but he accepted a transfer to the USS Churchill."

She sat down, nodding at the mention of her shift. No doubt with her luck she'd end up having to alter her sleep patterns again. Last time that happened, Ash wasn't in the best of moods. Missing a meal seemed to put males in bad moods and then that multiplied by five worked out to be a wolf's mood.

"I'm settling in very well thank you, Captain. I was a little surprised at the lack of space given this ship is an Intrepid-class and no doubt will take some time to adjust. But I'm looking forward to my tour of duty. It's my first time at the controls of an Intrepid-class starship and I'm looking forward to taking her for a spin."

She looked around the room for a moment while continuing. "I understand that it's your first command assignment with this vessel. Getting butterflies in your stomach yet?" she asked with a warm smile.

"The butterflies have long passed," Matt answered. "Before the Sulu, I had command of the Harriman, and then I've been in command of the Sulu for nearly a month now."

"Glad to hear it, the butterflies I mean," she said, smiling. "Is there anything you wish to ask me, Captain, before I report for duty?"

Matt raised a questioning eyebrow. "Is there something I should be asking you, Ensign?"

Niesha just shrugged in response. "The last few COs I've had asked me questions on my life in the Starfleet, the last 'interview' lasted almost two hours as he wanted to how I felt about not being promoted to lieutenant yet. He said he was a counsellor in another life. Go figure." Niesha paused looking at the captain before continuing. "If there's nothing more there's a whole ship to explore and my new roommate to get to know."

Matt chuckled and shook his head. "I don't have any questions specifically," he said. "I hadn't expected to be having an interview right now. If you'd like to go look around the ship and we can talk about your life and future aboard the Sulu later, I'm sure I can think of a few questions for you."

She nodded slowly before replying, "I'm sure you will, Captain. Until we meet again." She rose from the chair, taking the captain's statement to be the end of this little 'interview', as he called it. She stepped out of the ready room, vanishing behind the door which slid behind her, hissing as it moved.

Things looked like they were on the up for the El-Aurian. She liked her new captain though she couldn't specifically put her finger on why. Perhaps it was everything but then perhaps it was nothing. "The universe is infinitely strange," she said, entering the turbolift, smiling to herself. "But if it wasn't...it would be a very dull place."

---

"Naked and Vulnerable"
By Ensign Dwayne Sanchez - Operations Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Turbolift Car Two and Mess Hall
Stardate 57907.01, 12h00

***

When Cristobel stepped onto the turbolift, he found himself face to face with an officer he'd never met before. Strangely, the officer seemed familiar. "Do I know what you look like naked?" Cris asked.

Dwayne glanced at Cris. "I beg your pardon?" He'd gone through his complete wake-up routine and made his way to the lift. He was on his way to the mess for breakfast then on to his shift, in two hours. He'd never met the man who'd entered the lift at the stop and he couldn't possibly figure out how he could possibly know what Dwayne looked like naked. He, Cris, wasn't at the pool party with himself, Amy and Kelli...so how would he know and why in the hell did he even ask? "I don't know you."

"No, you don't," Cris agreed slowly, trying to figure out how he knew Dwayne. "Oh! But Amy knows you, and she gets the most vivid mental pictures when she talks. It's hard to ignore sometimes. You're the skinny-dipping guy," Cristobel realised, and made the "hunh" sound he always vocalised when he found something interesting.

What the hell was it about this guy? He'd never met him but something about him sort of made him feel...uncomfortable. "How do you know Amy? And what did she tell you about me?"

"Mess hall," Cristobel called out to the computer, remembering where he was. Turning to face Dwayne again, Cris responded, "I work with Amy in Sickbay. All she's said about you is that you're good to spend off-duty hours with and that she went skinny dipping with you, before she even really knew you. Is there some secret you're afraid of her telling her other friends?"

Secret? What could Amy really tell this guy that would really be embarrassing? Not a damn thing. And since he hadn't done his homework on Cris, he wasn't aware that Cris could read his every thought and that at that moment a grin was on Cris' face.

"Well, not really. I guess I really wasn't aware that she had any other friends aside from myself and Kelli."

Dwayne would be blushing if he knew that Cris could read his thoughts, as he thought of the time he and the girls had gone skinny dipping. The tattoos that Amy had, the one on her lower back, the other just over her breast... Then his mind wandered and he felt the reaction to that very strongly. He turned so it wouldn't be very noticeable, but again if he'd known that Cris was far from human, he wouldn't have worried about trying to hide.

If I keep this up, I'll have to go and take a cold shower...yeesh.

Cristobel was always very careful to avoid mental eavesdropping whenever he met someone new, because it always fascinated him to see how a person chose to present him or herself, only relying on passive empathy to discover how genuine that presentation was. It often saved him from taking a look into cluttered or disturbing minds that he would much rather avoid. Thusly, the only thing Cris knew of Dwayne himself was that he seemed to be aroused by Cris.

"I've quickly learned not to underestimate Amy Reese," Sefton said.

The doors to the turbolift opened up on deck two, just outside the mess hall.

"She's a hard one to ignore, that's for sure." Dwayne stepped from the lift and started for the mess. He'd as much as dismissed Sefton as he made his way to the mess and as the sensor for the door sensed him there, the doors opened to admit him into the boisterous room.

Cristobel entered the mess hall just slightly behind Dwayne, and joined him in the line of people waiting for fresh food. Silently. Dwayne seemed uncomfortable now, probably because of the telepathy issue, Sefton assumed. Cris wondered if maybe more of the mouth-talkers really were paranoid about mentalists, as Corran feared and Taylor suggested, which led Cris to considering getting out of line to simply get food from a replicator.

Dwayne really didn't have a problem with telepaths; his roommate at the academy was a Betazoid, and he had no problem with him. He turned to glance behind him at Cris. "So, are you getting settled in?"

"Completely," Cris said contentedly, now that Dwayne seemed more comfortable. "The Sulu's Sickbay is an absolute thing of beauty compared to the Intrepid-class standard. The other doctors and nurses have been completely welcoming and are teaching me the equivalent of several volumes of medical texts on a day to day basis. The moment we arrived, Corran and I unpacked everything in our quarters, and broke in the bed and couch, so our quarters feel like 'home'. Most importantly, the crew compliment is of a comfortable enough size that doesn't result in too many thoughts trying to bash their way into my skull and slowly drive me mad." Cristobel grinned. "Have you been on the Sulu long?"

Corran? He didn't ask. "I was on board for the last mission. That was a hard one to be there for. We lost some good officers on that mission, almost the Chief Science Officer. I've never met her but she stood her ground when it counted, even with the reputation she had aboard. The rumors flying around now is that she's dating the captain." He shrugged. "Not that I take stock in rumors anyway." He ordered the food he wanted and got to the end of the line, with Cris still behind him. "Um, you sitting with anyone?"

"Not that I know of," Cris admitted, and then quickly ordered the same food. Turning back to Dwayne, Cristobel suggested, "Y'know, one shouldn't discount gossip altogether. It tends to begin with a foothold in reality, at least. I've met the esteemed Lieutenant Tagliesh, and let me tell you: that woman is quite brilliant and passionate. If she wanted the Captain, there's no power in the 'verse that could stop her."

"Well, if she's someone who could do that, I can bet she could do anything. She's a strong woman, or so I've heard. Anyway, want some company?" Of course Dwayne didn't know this man so he was unfamiliar with him or his personal life. "She sounds a bit like Amy," he said, mostly to see what this man would say to that.

Cris nodded at Dwayne's offer for company, and followed him towards an empty table. "In meeting Tagliesh, I think you would find that she's not much like Amy at all. Amy actually likes people."

Dwayne sat down and placed his tray on the table. "Considering I haven't ever met Tagliesh, I'll have to take your word for it. But you are right, Amy does seem to like people, she seems to like everyone." He shrugged as he took up his roll and nibbled at it. "She and I are so opposite that I can't see how we're going to make our living arrangements work. You know I'm her roommate?"

"I had heard that, but I also heard that your quarters has separate bedrooms. More importantly, I had thought you and Amy were getting along well enough." Genuinely curious, Cristobel inquired, "Where do you think the greatest difference between you and Amy lies? I mean, it must be something specific, if you're starting to ponder finding a new roommate. Again."

"Oh no, it's not that. Our differences are that she's very outgoing, almost brazen at times. I'm not used to that. I grew up in a place where girls and women were supposed to be ladies and didn't do that kind of thing. I mean, throwing themselves at men all the time. I'm somewhat reserved, shy... I'm just not used to the attentions a woman would pour on a man...that's all." He looked at the man. "And yes, we do have our own bedrooms...it's just that our personalities clash sometimes, that's all."

"Do you think maybe it'll be good for you?" Cris suggested. "If you can get used to it, that is. I mean, I think there are more women like Amy Reese, unapologetically demanding what they want, than there are women like the ones you grew up around. If you can't handle Amy, what are you gonna do when you get to Risa, and every woman is chanting 'All that is ours is yours'?"

Dwayne shrugged. "I don't know. Amy is sort of rubbing off on me anyway. That skinny dipping thing was as much a surprise to me as it was to her." He took a bite of his food and swallowed before speaking again. "Maybe I won't go planet side, who knows."

Poking his own food with his fork, Cristobel insisted, "You have to go to the planet. Why orbit Risa if not for the pleasure?"

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. The only way I'll go down is either go down willingly or someone kidnaps me and takes me down forcefully." He took another bite and chewed it thoughtfully.

"Amy and I are going to be practising our kidnapping skills tonight," Cristobel said in a tone of voice that was ambiguously shifting between smirkingly facetious and dead serious. "Just ask Ensign Viraj tomorrow."

"Ensign who?" He'd never heard of that person before. "I'm sure Amy's got some skills somewhere, but she's not willing to work with me on them." He was, of course, speaking of a sexual nature. "Oh well. I guess she thinks I need to grow up some before she'd consider me at all." He shrugged and took another bite of food on his plate.

"Plus she'd have to break up with her boyfriend," Cris said bluntly, making the situation sound even more hopeless for Sanchez, but not so much Sanchez's fault. "Ensign Viraj is in Operations, actually. Gamma shift, I think."

Boyfriend? "That must be how come her bed hasn't been slept in." Then thinking about the Ensign of before, he nodded, "That is why I don't know the Ensign. Same department, different shift."

"I haven't met the new boy-toy, Kit, either," Cris admitted. "But, I think Corran and I are going to go on a double-date with them on Risa."

"I guess I could go down with Kelli. If she's not going down with anyone." He shrugged again. "If she is, I'll just stay aboard. I'd feel like a third wheel anyway if I was to join anyone." He then grinned. "Or in your case a fifth wheel."

"You could always meet and greet the natives," Cris suggested. "You never said if you were up for that or not."

"I'd likely hole up in a room somewhere if I went down by myself," was Dwayne's response.

"And do what?" Sefton asked.

"Probably read, relax." He didn't tell this man he just met how he relaxed... He shrugged. "I'm the shy type. I don't know if I'd ever find a girl who would like me as I am."

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, Cris said, "You're a Starfleet officer. All the testing means you're clever, mentally sound and physically healthy. What's not to like?"

"I don't know, I've never been to space till I was assigned to the Sulu." He'd seen the stars and thought they were pretty as a child, that and his parents were in Starfleet. "I stayed on Earth while my parents were with their assignments. I lived with my grandmother. That was till my mother couldn't live not seeing me everyday then she resigned her commission."

"Why didn't you go with them?" Cristobel pondered aloud, having lived a Starfleet childhood.

Dwayne shrugged again. "I was a child. I didn't have a choice. My folks didn't want me to get hurt on board a ship. They'd had so many children and lost all of them, I was the only one to survive infancy."

"I'm sorry," Cris muttered, expressing sympathy. He played with his food some more, unsure of what to say, for once.

"I never knew them. They all came before me. And all died before I was even conceived. My parents loved every one of them...and they loved me. And they died doing what they loved, I mean work-wise. But in order for me to survive, they thought I should stay planetside till I was old enough to choose for myself...and when I was old enough, I chose the Academy."

Feeling another awkward silence approaching and unsure why Dwayne turned the conversation from Risa to his parents, Cristobel took his first bite of his meal, and found it to be only lukewarm. He stood suddenly, and apologetically said, "Gotta go. I don't meant to slipstream off like this, but I was supposed to bring lunch back to Amy in Sickbay, and then I ran into you here, and didn't think you should eat alone."

"Oh." He finished his meal, having eaten it while they talked. "Well, have a good shift then, I guess."

Cringing, Cristobel said, "Sorry. We've still gotta pick out our outfits for tonight. Sorry."

---

"Roommate"
Ensign Niesha - Flight Control Officer

Location: Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.01, 12h00

***

Niesha came back to her quarters right after her meeting with the captain. He seemed to be one of those captains that could change the galaxy, the silent type, though not in his words but in his actions. All the greats were the same: Kirk, Picard, and now this one. "This will definitely be an interesting tour," she whispered, smiling as she pressed the button to open the door.

But what she found in her quarters instantly wiped the smile from her face. There was a woman on the sofa crying her eyes out. Her first thought was that Ash had attacked her but she saw Ash was lying right next to her and she was stroking him from time to time.

The human crewman looked up and saw the El-Aurian standing just inside their quarters. Niesha stepped forward so the door would close and she moved up to the young woman. She looked to be in her early 20s and was a lieutenant by her rank though only a junior grade.

"What's the matter... What's happened?" Niesha asked, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"It's nothing...really..." the young lieutenant replied. "Just home sick I guess. Just needed a good cry. Your friend here was most comforting though I was a little shocked to see him."

"My name's Niesha, I've just come aboard. You sure you're ok?" the El-Aurian asked. Not sure but something didn't feel right about this. It just didn't fit her being homesick.

"Yes..." the young woman replied, forcing a smile. "Stop worrying. My name's Joey, with Security. Just been posted to the Sulu myself. I was here for her maiden voyage. Where have you been before this?"

"Here and there, you?"

There seemed to be a long pause as Joey hesitated in replying but finally her mouth opened. Niesha saw the hesitation again as no words came out for a good while. "I was on Earth" she replied. "Security officer on Earth. This is my first starship posting and deep space mission."

"Don't worry, you need any help just ask. I've seen and heard most things that go off in the galaxy, though the Federation don't seem to appreciate me," Niesha smiled. She saw Joey hadn't caught on to the fact she was El-Aurian. "Sorry...that was supposed to be a joke. I'm El-Aurian..."

"Oh... Oh!" she said, the words finally registering with the lieutenant. "Welcome aboard the Sulu," Joey said, her hand reaching out to Niesha who took it warmly. "She's small but she can put up a fight with the best of them."

"I have no doubt," smiled Niesha, looking around the quarters. "The space may be a problem; I never had a chance to ask if Ash was a problem. People do get nervous with a wolf around..."

That seemed to surprise Joey and she knelt down, running her hands through Ash's thick fur, rubbing the sides of his face as he turned to look up at her. "This adorable creature, that's hard to believe. I was wondering what his name was. I think we're going to have a great time! If you need a tour of the ship let me know."

"It's a date..." Niesha replied, walking into the bathroom to wash up. Ash didn't even bother to look and to see where Niesha was going. He was too preoccupied with getting attention from Joey and loving every second of it. His tail was swaying left to right along the carpet as he moved his head so Joey could scratch behind his ear.

"You like being scratched behind the ears?" Joey asked, laughing at the affect it caused Ash when she started rubbing in his sensitive spot.

"Looks like you've found a friend, Ash. It took less time than I thought," Niesha said, smiling at the two.

---

"Bleed"
by Captain Matthew T. Salinger - Commanding Officer
and Ensign Ethan Storm - Security Officer

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.01, 12h09

***

Ensign Storm's fingers flickered over the controls of the tactical station, simultaneously updating the armory inventories, coordinating with flight control, and keeping a close eye on the sensor readouts. So far, his shift had been mostly uneventful, leaving Storm with the secret wish for some kind of small crisis to prove his mettle. Apparently, a Ferengi Marauder had briefly shadowed the Sulu around 08h30 while Saris had been on the bridge and Storm had been below decks taking his turn at shield emitter maintenance. With a small tinge of regret, Storm had to remind himself that there were no small duties aboard a starship and consoled himself with the fact that he had been getting more than adequate time at tactical. Lieutenant Thalan had proved to be good as his word.

Storm was glad that Captain Salinger subscribed to the long-held Starfleet tradition of combining the position of Chief Tactical Officer and Chief of Security. Ever since the Dominion War, after heavy losses in both space and ground engagements, there were some in Starfleet suggesting that this combination of very different duties was inefficient and a few starships had separated the department. While Storm himself had not picked a side in the ongoing debate, he knew well that it was something of a comfort to have the same officer working Tactical also making the decisions about who to send on a particular Security detail. It simply felt right.

Storm allowed himself a glance around the bridge. Most of alpha shift had left for the mess and the various supernumeraries had efficiently slid into their stations. The Captain himself sat in the center seat, his head down in a padd. Captain Salinger spent nearly every moment of his shift on the bridge. Storm found the trait admirable - so many Captains retired to their Ready Room the moment the ship was underway. It almost made it seem like they didn't want to be there.

Storm had overheard a fair amount of gossip about the Captain once he got on board. In fact, Storm had broken up one such bull session among some Security NCO's while overseeing the shield emitter maintenance work crew. While some of the talk had made Storm raise an eyebrow, so far he'd seen nothing that would make him doubt the Captain's professionalism. Ethan knew that very few Starfleet personnel ever saw the rank of Captain at such a young age. There was just Tryla Scott, James Kirk, Storm's own grandfather, Salinger, and a small handful of others. That alone deserved serious respect.

Matt Salinger glanced up from his padd and tapped in a sequence of commands into the console built into the arm of his chair. Readouts quickly scrolled across, giving him immediate access to the status of all the ship's systems. Things were well within parameters, but he was noticing a bleed in one of the aft phaser relay couplings. It wasn't noticeable and wouldn't cause a problem even if they were forced to use the ship's weaponry. However, such a problem, if left unattended could grow into something worse. He glanced back to the tactical station. "Ensign Storm," he said. "Have a team run a level three diagnostic on the aft phaser systems. I'm reading a power bleed in one of the couplings."

Storm had begun tapping his console as soon as the Captain had said his name. "Level three. Aye, sir." A level three diagnostic required actual crewmembers to verify the key mechanics while Storm verified the sensor readings from the tactical station. Once the work crew was on its way, Storm moved to one side of the console in case the Captain came over to supervise. A level three could take as long as ten minutes.

It was several moments before Matt showed up to Storm's side, though he kept his distance and let the tactical officer work. Still en route to Risa, there was little chance there would be a danger, but he had heard reports as recently as last week that there were some pirates working along the routes in to Risa. He had confidence that pirates wouldn't go after the Sulu, but one of their primary duties was to render aid when it was required. "That one's a tricky one," Matt finally said. "Its partner in the port ventral array had the same trouble during shakedown."

"The Sabre-class had a similar problem," Storm volunteered while continuing to work the console. "Only a bit more serious since they have a pulse phaser system. Hopefully this won't be quite as chronic."

Matt nodded. "I remember that problem," he said. "I believe one of the new Defiant-class ships was running into the same problem." He brought data up on both the Sabre project and the Defiant. The information scrolled across a data screen on the tactical console. "Looks like they managed to work around the problem by creating a binary flow in the EPS relays. Take the load off the conduits heading straight into the array."

"Aye, sir." Storm made a few taps on the console but looked troubled. "I'm not sure this will be a long term solution for the Sulu, sir. The relays on a pulse phaser system can handle the excess flow but I'm not sure ours are up to the challenge. We may have to go outside for a walk in a few days and make some modifications to the external array."

"While we're orbiting Risa," Matt said, "there should be plenty of opportunity for that. We'll just need crew who aren't planning on using their shore leave, or all of their shore leave at any rate. The one thing to watch out for will be errant orbital skydivers."

"I took leave right before I came aboard, sir," Storm noted. "I can take a look when we hit orbit but I'll need the help of an engineer who is zero-G trained and isn't in too big of a rush to get down to Risa." Storm considered his own words and smiled. "I guess that might be a short list."

"Either really short or really long," Matt answered. "I've often found that either everyone wants shore leave, or no one does. Though, this time it's looking like we'll be working with a very skeletal crew."

"It's Risa," Storm said simply as if that explained everything. "I'll be working full duty shifts throughout our stay. Shall I schedule the modifications, sir?"

"Go ahead and log them," Matt said. "Work with Sam on the logistics if that's necessary. I'm not certain if Lt. Thaine will be taking shore leave or staying to work through things. But, I'm certain he'd be willing to either help you out or assign you the engineers to get the job done."

"Aye sir," Storm said, tapping the console before leaning in a bit to scrutinize the current readings. He stepped to the side to allow the captain to take a look for himself. "It looks like the binary flow is doing the trick for the time being, sir. I'll keep a close eye on it and I'll instruct the other tactical officers to do the same. If it acts up again, I'll be on top of it."

"Good work, Ensign," Salinger answered as he edged away from the tactical station to return to his seat. "And, welcome aboard."

---

"Farehn'ti"
by Abrin an'Korii, Farehn'ti Administrator [NPC+]
and Minister Dalil V'ril, Ktarian Mediator [NPC+]

Location: Norambra Hotel, Risa
Stardate 57907.01, 16h15

***

It was the center of paradise. At least, by Federation standards. Of course, the weather was perfect, the people were beautiful, and the food was the most amazing thing he'd ever tasted. Why was it then that the majority of time here in this place had to be spent sitting in meeting after meeting with Federation diplomats and finalizing the details of admission into the Federation?

His name was Abrin an'Korii, and he was the head of his delegation to admit his people, the Farehn'ti, into the United Federation of Planets. With pride, he led his people to this point. With joy, he met with the Federation ambassador. And, now, the final days of the talks were nearing an end. Soon, Minister Dalil V'ril would take the information back to the Federation Council and a vote would be held.

All in all, things were progressing very well. There had been no major disruptions in the negotiations and Dalil seemed very enthusiastic about their future. The Farehn'ti had been considering Federation membership for nearly one hundred years, but internal strife had always stood in the way. However, now, finally unified, they stood at the crossroads, ready to make the final step that would bring them into the larger confederation of planets.

Abrin glanced up to the other end of the table where Dalil sat, his exquisitely tailored suit making him appear almost royal. The man's enlarged forehead with bisecting crease gave him a truly exotic appearance. The minister's exotic tastes were also well known, almost legendary on Risa. When the events here today would end, Dalil V'ril would change his attire and begin touring the various clubs. The rumour that Abrin had heard was that he shared his bed with a different woman every night.

Abrin didn't begrudge the Ktarian man his sensual tastes. Such was not uncommon on Farehn, and he himself had been known to engage in some wild frivolity during his youth.

"So," Dalil was saying, "is there anything else we need to cover today? I believe we have taken care of all of the religious and political matters. Tomorrow we can begin discussing Federation and Farehn'ti needs in this upcoming union. But, that can wait until tomorrow."

The Ktarian's voice was rich and melodious, and all of the Farehn'ti delegation had been charmed almost instantly. They hoped that, once they were members, that interaction with the man would not cease.

"Tomorrow it is," Abrin said. "So, what is on your agenda for this evening, Dalil?"

The man laughed, a joyous sound that one only could hear from those who thoroughly loved life. "Tonight, I believe I will be at the Eyschyu Room for a good deal of the night. And, then I will be at the Horg'rhi'mom Lounge until I finally return to my room. You still won't convince Miamra si'Doss to join me tonight?"

Abrin sighed. "Alas, my friend, but Miamra doesn't care much for entertainment. She desires the company of a warm mug of chi'kri tea and one of our government earning reports."

"And each denial is like a wound to my heart," Dalil replied, and quickly followed with a hearty laugh.

"If you don't mind the company, though," Abrin went on, "I wouldn't mind joining you tonight."

"I would be delighted for the company."

"I shall see you at sundown?"

Dalil gave the Farehn'ti an elegant bow. "I will meet you at the Eyschyu Room, my friend."

Abrin smiled as he watched Dalil V'ril walk away, and thanked the Seven for the chance to meet such a man. If all the people of the Federation were like Minister V'ril, then becoming a member of the Federation would be the greatest moment of Farehn'ti existence.

With joy in his heart, Abrin an'Korii left the meeting chambers, knowing that they were one day closer to becoming members of the Federation.

---

"Banding Together"
by Ensign Jermaine Gordo
Ensign Kit Markham
and Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardage 57907.01 16h25

***

Jermaine entered the lounge where he had heard the auditions for the band were to take place. He looked around to see that he was in fact the first to have arrived.

Making his way over to the stage he found a drum kit that was still to be set up. Jermaine arranged the multiple pieces of percussion until he was satisfied.

Taking a seat on the drum throne he picked up a pair of sticks and began warming up. More like exercises at first before he turned his attentions to the set in front of him.

Much to his liking the bass drum was equipped with a double kick pedal as opposed to a second bass. Like lightning his feet began slamming against the pedals pouring a flurry of bass beats into the vacant lounge.

Next he mixed in his upper extremities with a few quick but basic rolls down the toms. Accented with some crashes here and there he kept the rhythm going for a few minutes before he came to a halt as the doors to the lounge opened.

He was heading in that direction anyway, but the thump-thumping coming from the lounge up ahead drew Kit Markham forward even faster. He stepped through the door to the lounge and spotted the man hidden behind the drum kit, sticks flying. He grinned to himself and edged forward. Near the bar, he saw Stencil wiping at a stain with a rag while one foot was tapping along with the beat the drummer was laying down.

Kit approached the small stage, but the man was lost in his own rhythm. With a smile, Kit hefted one of the practice guitars and plugged into an amp. He wasn't sure if he had the drummer's attention, but when he started working through a series of chords, he knew he'd been spotted. He flashed a smile across the set of drums, and set up a rhythm to go along with the beat being pounded out in front of him.

As the chords from the guitar meshed with the rhythm he had started Jermaine lowered his head and swayed his dreads back and forth as the sticks blurred another roll down the toms. Accented with a loud distinct china boy crash he abruptly changed from the fast paced warm-up tune to a good 4/4 time mixed with a few creative fills.

Looking over top the drums to the man playing the guitar he took a moment to watch the way his fingers worked the strings.

Though it was still too soon to tell, Jermaine got the feeling like something good would come of this.

Working his way through the part, he stopped playing and stood from behind the kit. Un-buttoning his shirt he wiped the sweat from his dark brow and extended a hand, after wiping it off as well, to the man playing.

"I am Jermaine, and you are?"

"Kit Markham," the guitarist answered. "You're good. You here to try out?"

"Yes I am," Jermaine responded with a slight sigh as he caught his breath. "Are you here to try out or are you the one holding the audition?"

Waiting for a reply he fanned the silk of his shirt near his body to cool himself from playing so intently.

"I'm the one holding them, I guess," Kit said. "Since we were on light duty as we head toward Risa and we'll be on shore leave once we get there, I figure now's as good a time as any to start something up. We've got a few days, if we're good enough maybe we can find a gig on Risa once we get there."

"Sounds good to me," Jermaine replied. "Shall we play another or do we have to wait to see if there are others coming to the audition?"

Inwardly Jermaine hoped to be selected because he had to find something to do to occupy his time other than the constant beating of holosims and other various training programs. After all, that was not what he was all about.

Tying his dreads behind his head with one of the longer ones he secured them into place before sitting down once again at the kit. Waiting for some sort of lead before beginning again he cracked his neck loudly.

"So, have you played in a band before, Jermaine?"

"Yes, Kit, I played in a band with some of my friends back in school, though we were not all that bad, we certainly didn't have a future in it."

Jermaine shrugged his shoulders as he sat and conversed with his fellow crewman. "So what about you, were you in a band before?"

"I've been in a few actually," Kit said. "Mostly small stuff, but still fun. I thought it'd be nice to have someone to jam with here on the ship. I mean, I imagine we'll all be together here for awhile."

Jermaine nodded in agreement with Kit as he commented on the length of their service on the Sulu.

Taking a seat once again he picked up the wooden sticks and awaited the beginning of the next song. By no means wanting conversation to end he softly played a light jazz riff.

The ride sounded out a light double hit as he gently struck the snare so to not overpower the beat, the bass drum thumped out with a few accent beats.

Looking back up to Kit to see what sort of reaction he would receive from the change in tempo he let out for the first time a large grin, his bright white smile followed by his voice once again. "Jazz fan?"

"As long as you can jam to it," Kit said as his fingers began playing over the strings again, "I'm a fan of it. I think we've got the good makings here, but we're still missing a few key pieces. So far, Jermaine, my friend, I think you've got a spot in the band." He flashed the drummer a grin.

"What about me?" a decidedly exuberant, female voice called out from behind them. "Got any spots available for a spunky, beautiful, back-up singer?"

Kit spun around at the sound of the voice that seemed to start his heart hammering in his chest. "Hey there," he called. "Of course. Get up here and let's hear some back-up singering sounds."

Amy started forward happily, but her light, jaunty pace slackened as she saw Jermaine. "Oh...didn't recognize you up there, Ensign Gordo," she said awkwardly. "Uh...hi."

"Well hello there, Ensign Reese, it has been a while since we last met, though I hope we can move on from that little episode."

Jermaine stood up from behind the set and stepped off the stage to come to rest in front of Amy. He extended his hand and looked to her. "Friends?"

Amy studied Jermaine's hand warily, then gave a bright smile and slapped her palm into his. "I promise not to taunt you about your hair again. I'd actually like you to teach me how to do that sometime. The entire band can be braided!"

Jermaine shook his head for a second. "Or dreaded, however you want to look at it." He smiled at the play on words, though thought he might be in for it again.

He would have to hope things would be better now, but he definitely felt better himself.

He made his way back to the drum set and sat down again. Picking up the sticks again he looked to Amy. "Well what would you like to do?"

"Well...I dunno," she replied, glancing at Kit. "What spots still need to be filled?"

"Bass and keyboards would be good," Kit said. "I can actually play both, so if we found another person for the guitar, that would work too. How quickly do you think you could pick up the guitar, Amy, dear?"

"Well, Kit, dear," she replied sweetly, "I believe I can do alright with the easy stuff. As long as I get lotsa practice in with you." She looked between him and Gordo, then asked, "Is this all of us?"

"For now," Kit answered. "I posted a note in the lounge yesterday, but no one else has shown up yet. Though, if we want to just play around in here for awhile, we can see if anyone else will show up."

"Sounds good to me," Jermaine added as he watched the two exchange their comments.

Patiently he waited for some signal to start, or a cue to let him know what to play at least.

"Well." Amy hopped up onto the squat platform and looked around for a spare instrument. She noticed the stool resting on the center of the stage, instead, and moved to sit upon it. "So...what do we do? Do we just improvise or what?"

"Sure," Kit said. "Improvising sounds good." He slipped himself out of the guitar and brought it over to Amy. "You want to play around with that? I'll grab a bass and we'll see what sort of sound the three of us can make."

Amy accepted the instrument reverently from Kit, ensuring her hand brushed over his as she did. With a smile just for him, she slipped the strap over her head and stood the instrument upon her lap. As Jermaine pattered the drums with his sticks, she languidly thrummed the guitar. "Hey, Gordo!" she called back. "Don't even think about trying to drown me out." She looked over her shoulder at him and shot him a teasing smile.

Jermaine looked to her with a cold stare that seemed to last forever, though momentarily it broke into a loud bellowing laughter. "What? Me drown you out? That hardly seems possible, your voice would be heard over anyone or anything."

Jermaine laughed again as he maintained the rhythm and awaited the others to join in.

Kit settled the bass into position, and thumbed out a quick bassline that cut under the guitar and drums nicely. He shifted the beat to something more retro, back to the early twenty-second and shot a grin at both Gordo and Amy. "Let's jam!"

---

"Intruder Alert!"
By Ensign Amy Reese
Ensign Cristobel Sefton
Ensign Ethan Storm
Ensign Viraj [NPC]
and Crewman 1st Class Shyla Lynn Moreau [NPC+]

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.01, 19h06

***

The bridge of the USS Hikaru Sulu was littered with the corpses of its skeleton command staff. Ensign Corrigan was slumped over the exploded Tactical control panel. Ensign Viraj was dead on the blown out Ops panel. Hansen had been vaporised in front of the Engineering console. Commander Lyrr sat in the Captain's Chair with a fatal disruptor burn in her chest, while her pair of assailants, Trill and Romulan members of the Azarath Alliance, lay sprawled over the CONN.

Ensign Storm drove open one of the turbolift doors with a laborious heave, and crawled onto the bridge. When the deck began to rock, as explosives were set off in the Sulu's computer cores, Storm nearly fell back down the turboshaft, but retained his balance through sheer determination.

The Alliance communicator on the bicep of the dead Trill chirped. A tinny voice sounded from it. "This starship is forfeit to the Azarath Alliance's war against Order. Prepare your soul for its return to Chaos."

Storm stumbled to the station and grabbed the communicator band from the Trill's arm. Pulling the Romulan off the console, Ethan popped the cover off the communicator, sat it on the CONN, and struggled to crosswire the transceiver with the encryption circuit. Soon, it began to emit a low-pitched hum. Storm replaced the cover with a satisfied snap and, as he drew the band up his own arm, he was struck hard from behind.

The now conscious Romulan, his face a mask of abrasions and flowing emerald blood, threw several more wild swings at Storm before diving at a disruptor lying on the deck. Seeing the weapon, Storm dropped and lashed out, violently sweeping the Romulan's legs with his own and sending the alien crashing solidly to the ground. A second kick to the Romulan's groin doubled him up into a sitting position, giving Storm the opening to grab both ears and twist until he heard the neck crack.

Gasping for air, Storm grabbed up the disrupter and staggered to the environment station, one of the few that hadn't been destroyed. It soon became clear that the main computers were offline and most of the shared subprocessors had been wiped. Grimly, Storm realized what those explosions had been when he crawled onto the bridge. He started to work the console frantically, knowing that if he could just get one subprocessor up, he could get an idea of what he was facing.

The sensor readout came to life with a burst of static. It looked like there were three lifesigns to Storm but he was no sensor technician and it would have taken some specialized training to understand the inaccurate signals under these conditions. It looked like three lifesigns, moving together, somewhere in the lower decks of the primary hull. As long as the intruders stayed together, they wouldn't be using their communicators and he wouldn't be overhearing any of their conversations. Realizing his communicator alteration may ultimately prove useless, Storm decided he couldn't wait them out.

Ethan pried a second disrupter out of the Trill's lifeless hand and tore one of the sleeves from Commander Lyrr's tunic. He tied one end in a knot, dropped the two disrupters inside the makeshift bag, and went back to the turboshaft. Clutching the tied sleeve in his teeth, Ethan swung himself out into the darkness and disappeared.

***

Striding down a deck seven corridor, clad in clunky combat boots, red leather trousers and a black sleeveless soft-armour jacket, Cristobel Sefton continued speaking into his armband communicator. " We have no intention of harming the rest of your crew on the surface of the pleasure planet, and if you join them now, you will not be harmed either."

Cristobel snapped off the communicator and muttered, "Nothing. No response." Back in his normal flippant tone of voice, Cris suggested to his associates, Amy Reese and Shyla Moreau, "Maybe one of you should taunt him for a while."

"Who is the him anyway?" Shyla asked, trying to keep up but occasionally stopping to struggle with the thick boots. She had put in a twelve hour shift and was the last to arrive. The simulation was already up and running while she was still getting her costume.

"He is a nameless, faceless, Starfleet slave to Order," Cris said, snapping back into character, but stopping so she could catch up. "Well, he is!" he added, when he noticed Shyla's amused look.

Amy giggled again at Cris. " 'Prepare your soul for its return to Chaos?' What was that supposed to mean!?"

Amy too had chosen leather to match Cris' outfit, though instead of red, Amy's fitted pants were tawny and the waist-length jacket covering her black tank top was coloured to match. For the occasion, she had her hair dyed black again, with thick strands of white throughout, and her nails were painted the same shade of black as her hair, using the polish she'd borrowed from Kit. Even with the heavy, knee-high boots she wore, Amy managed to skip lightly before Cris as they marched down the corridor, teasing him in a sing-song voice occasionally interrupted by laughter. "Oooh...scary villain! What next? 'Surrender...handsome!' ?"

Scoffing gently, Cristobel explained, "The Azarath Alliance worships chaos. Their ultimate goal is to bring about the Big Crunch and return the Universe to its 'natural' state. To be honest, I just think it's a good excuse to run around the galaxy blowing stuff up, which is why I chose them for us to represent in this simulation." Suddenly sounding overly pleased with himself, Cris said, "I did research!"

Amy stopped bouncing abruptly and returned to her position by Cris' side. "Well, I didn't," she replied. "So, I have no idea what's going on. But, at least I look good." She grinned facetiously.

Shyla limped up to the both of them. "Yes, you do but I must have replicated the wrong size boot. I don't think I could ever be too terribly evil. The clothes are ridiculous."

"All of this is the beauty of worshipping Chaos. We can do anything!" Cristobel exclaimed. "We can be destructive and claim it to be an act of construction. Chaotic construction. Anything can happen!" Cris gasped sharply, and not too manly, when an unexpected sound came from behind them -- the holodeck doors opening to allow the entry of a bald Starfleet ensign.

Once the triad turned to look at him, the uniformed Ensign Viraj asked, "I'm not too late am I? The explosive climax is still ahead, yeah?" Excited to join the intruders, he added, "Are we on our way to take out the warp core?"

"You're time of arrival is perfect, Hostage," Sefton told him with a playful sneer.

***

The Deck 6 turbolift doors slowly pushed apart with some effort and Storm landed with both feet on the deck, the torn uniform sleeve still gripped in his teeth. He removed the two disruptors and took off down the corridor towards the Main Security Office at a full, yet strangely quiet, sprint.

The Security Office was gutted. Corpses and parts of corpses were strewn everywhere, courtesy of several well-placed photon grenades. Storm ran to the Armory and found a similar sight: The charge here had blown nearly all the weapons and phaser rifles to bits. Storm smiled coolly. You could say what you wanted about Cristobel Sefton but the man could program a good scenario. He may have missed his true calling.

Storm returned to the Main Office and slumped into a chair. All of the consoles were out. Internal sensors were practically useless. The weapons were destroyed. All Storm had on his side were two disrupters, an Alliance communicator, and the bodies of a bunch of dead security officers. Storm looked morosely at the holographic corpse of Chief Petty Officer Jance, most of his face missing.

"Any ideas, Chief?" Storm asked.

***

Shyla stood at the far end of the cargo bay, taking holographic readings with her holographic tricorder while Cris and Amy took charge of their "hostage." Moreau was having a bit of trouble getting into the proper spirit of things as her replicated boots pinched her toes mercilessly but she was getting a lot of entertainment from Cris's occasional in-character ramblings.

Near the entrance to the cargo bay, Amy snicked the binders into place around Viraj's wrist. At his grimace of discomfort, Amy grinned innocently. "Sorry." She then loosened the bindings and patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "If Ethan's any good, this should be over in no time, Viraj."

Suddenly, all three of their communicators whined as the channel was opened but no message was forthcoming. Cris and Amy fell silent as they struggled to make some sense of the ambient noise coming over the device. Shyla reset her tricorder and began scanning the communicator on her arm.

"It's one deck up," she said, looking at the ceiling while walking back to the group. "The open channel is in the Security Office." Shyla looked back at her tricorder with a frown and added, "There's something weird about the transmitting communicator."

Cris tapped his own communicator off, and gestured to the others to do the same. He walked over to Shyla and took a look at her readings but he couldn't make heads or tales of them himself. "Well, he may have figured out a way to monitor our communications," Cris said, enjoying the leadership role. "Watch what you transmit. Keep communication silence."

"Security is precisely where we've got to not be," Cris decided. "Do you think we should get away from here, and head down to the Engineering hull as our little hostage suggested" -- Cris nodded towards Viraj, who appeared to be bored -- "or do we stick to this area, and hope he'll expect us to head down to Engineering? Maybe we could see how pristinely I programmed Astrometrics to survive all this."

"Aw, you kept my baby girl in good shape?" Shyla asked with a genuine smile. "Thanks Cris!"

"Well...wouldn't moving targets be harder to catch?" Amy asked, giggling slightly at Shyla's warm sentiments for her work station.

"Right," Cristobel nodded. "Down the Jeffries tubes we go."

"Joy," Shyla said, her smile fading with the thought of climbing in her cruel boots. "You may have to carry me and my bloody little feet the last couple of decks. And how's Viraj going to climb with his arms in binders?"

"I -- hrm -- I guess we're going to have to unbind our hostage," Cris frowned. Suddenly smirking again, he asked, "Unless...can Deltan's fly?"

The dark look from Viraj encouraged Cristobel to personally remove the binders speedily. With that chore complete, Cris enthused, "It's only five decks down to Engineering. Shouldn't be too bad a climb...if we'd worn Starfleet regulation boots..." Trailing off particularly unenthusiastically towards the end, Cris bit his lower lip.

"Oh, we can do it," Amy assured them. "We're Starfleet-- I mean...the Azarath Alliance! We can handle it." She smiled cheerfully and showing her usual vigour, skipped towards the hatch to the Jeffries tube. Once there, she pulled out the holographic disruptor and fired at the control panel. Sparks flew from it, blue arcs of electricity scrambled over the smoking panel, and then the doors slid partway open. She frowned and looked to Cris, motioning towards the jammed doors.

"You're right, of course," Cris agreed, with a sly grin. He took advantage of his heavy boots to kick each of the doors several times, until they both were open all the way. Sefton examined the tube, ensuring it wasn't occupied by Storm, nor destroyed by an explosive, and crawled into it.

***

Storm had stood across from the Security Office in a small corridor alcove watching for Sefton and company for what seemed like hours even though it had been a scant few minutes. He had placed the holographic corpse of Chief Jance in a sitting position, put his back to the open door, slicked his salt and pepper hair down with holographic blood, and put the Alliance communicator on him with the channel open. From a distance, in the low light, the Chief looked to be a reasonable facsimile of Storm but Cris didn't seem to be taking the bait. It was a simple case of the gung ho security officer underestimating the nurse.

Had this been a real situation, the smart thing would have been for Storm to be patient and bide his time. The real Alliance would have gone about the ship for hours, setting charges and reveling in the destruction. A security officer properly armed and unnoticed in that situation could pick off half a dozen before the Alliance would change their tactics. Storm knew he would never live it down if he didn't win the scenario, even with the disparity between personnel and equipment. Cris had given Storm exactly what he asked for: Kobayashi Maru.

Ethan had been involved in more holosimulations than he could count, but the reality of this one was almost eerie. It wasn't the programming -- such things were easily accomplished. Sefton had most likely simply asked the computer to create a complete recreation of the Sulu and the computer with the structural, personnel, and operation files, had done just that. Complete was the key word: Everything in this facsimile was designed to operate as it would in reality. Holographic flesh was rendered and torn by holographic explosions. If Storm had set his holographic disruptor on high and blasted the holographic wall it would have revealed holographic optical data cables and holographic bio-neural circuitry. In the infancy of holotechnology, detail even approaching this degree was unthinkable. Now, anything was possible and Sefton had fully utilized the potential. The attention to detail was simply amazing if not a little morbid.

At that moment Sefton and his group were mere feet from Storm but the holographic walls, substrate forcefields and sound suppressors placed them meters and meters away through a starship maze. Storm had to approach it as if the scenario were real. Searching deck by deck may be his only option considering he was alone with not one ally.

Not one ally.

As something slowly dawned on him, Storm emerged from his hiding spot. As he followed his thread of thought, he found himself at Chief Jance's corpse, retrieving the "hotwired" Alliance communicator from the hologram's arm and replacing it on his own. And when he had reached the end of the thread, Storm was off sprinting again to the nearest turbolift.

Storm realized that he hadn't counted all his assets.

***

"We're not terribly effective terrorists, are we?" Cristobel asked his team, and himself rhetorically, as they climbed vertically down the rungs of a Jeffries tube. "It's probably for the best that we have our Starfleet careers. I mean, all the Sulu's damage was pre-programmed into the simulation. We haven't done anything yet."

"What about kidnapping me?" Viraj called down to Cris.

With a light 'pfft', Cris declared, "Deltans are even more pacifistic than Betazoids. A small fluffy animal could have taken you hostage."

"Valid point," Viraj muttered, while Shyla giggled at the thought of small fluffy animals taking over Delta IV.

"Well, look at it this way," Amy called down from above Viraj. "If we do lose, we can always do better next time around. And besides, the game isn't over yet! All we need is a little planning to outwit our opponent."

"You're right, A; we could do well with a plan - a real sense of purpose!" Cristobel agreed cheerfully. "One of our objectives is to destroy the ship, but I'm hesitant to simply race to Engineering and create a warp core breach. It's what the Azarath Alliance would do, but it's just too inelegant. If we take out our predator, though, we could then destroy the ship at our leisure..."

"I'm all for an activity that involves leisure," Shyla said, trying to sound chipper in spite of her crushed toes. She couldn't wait to get out of the Jeffries tube.

"Leisure?" Amy snickered. "I know a few activities I would define as 'leisure' but I doubt that's what you had in mind. Or...maybe it is." Suddenly thinking of said activities, Amy began missing Kit terribly. She'd have to have some 'leisure' time with him later. Shyla simply blushed dark crimson and kept quiet.

"Are we about to learn why having fun the Amy Polly Reese way is so legendary?" Cristobel asked brazenly.

She looked down over her shoulder at Cris and rather ineloquently stuck out her tongue. "No demonstrations," she then said. "Though, you may observe if you wish. There are shows playing at every hour on the hour, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, most of the time in the shower, though sometimes we get daring and...perform in the holodecks. Jealous?"

Cristobel just laughed at first. "I could be having sex telepathically with Corran right now, and you wouldn't even know it," Cris teasingly boasted.

***

"Activating emergency applications in a non-emergency situations is a violation of Starfleet regulations and I, as a trusted officer, am required to report such --"

"I know that!" Storm argued. "But you're not an emergency application. You are the holographic representation of an emergency application. You may know what it knows but you are not the EMH. You are the EMHH. Follow me?"

"I don't see the difference," the EMH said, stubbornly.

Storm put his head in his hands and rocked in frustration. This idea had looked so promising. He had made it back up a deck in record time, found the sickbay and its subprocessors relatively intact, and had ascertained that the holoemitters for the EMH were still operational. If the EMH would just agree, Storm could send it to various emitter locations throughout the ship to look for Sefton and his group. Storm hadn't planned on a debate.

"Look," began Storm, as if speaking to a child. "If you were the real EMH and this was really happening, it would be in your benefit to give me all the help you could. It would only be a matter of time before the Alliance would make their way up here, discover your programming, and have all kinds of disturbing fun with you before destroying your matrix. If Sefton and his group are playacting their parts correctly, that could still happen."

"Well, since I'm just the EMHH..." the EMH began before its eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What was that name you just said?"

"Who? Sefton?" Storm said, growing tired of the argument. He was frustrated and completely unaware of the EMH's change in mood.

"I'll do it," the EMH volunteered simply and suddenly.

"Look, don't make me delete your autonomous decision subrou..." Storm began, before finally hearing the hologram. "What did you just say?"

The EMH walked over to the medical console and actually smiled. "I said I'd do it. How do we get started?"

***

As he and Amy were fusing photon grenades onto the warp core, Cristobel offhandedly asked her, "Have you ever seen a starship explode?"

Amy clapping her hands wildly, while adding boisterous giggles to the mix. "No, but I think I'm about to!"

"Thankfully, I'm also a starship-explosion-virgin, but let me tell you: for our very first, this is going to be quite the spectacle," Cris declared buoyantly, his eyes bright and wide. "When the antimatter containment fields are breached, the simulated explosion has been programmed to progress in slow-motion to give us plenty of time to observe it. And there'll be sound effects! It'll be perfectly harmless, of course. It doesn't really seem like explosions do much for Shyla, but I hope she gets as front row a show as we do."

Amy frowned slightly. "We'll have time to reach the escape pods ourselves, won't we? I mean, we can't win the game if we die too."

"In theory, we'll have time, but in reality, Storm isn't easily predicted. Our primary objective is to avoid being captured by him. That's it," Cristobel explained. "Secondary objectives do include blowing up the ship, and, y'know, not dying, but if he doesn't catch us, we win. The chance of Storm's success is nigh-impossible." Cristobel shrugged, suddenly not sure how he ever convinced Storm to play. "This is the way he wanted it."

"Suicide mission?" Amy shuddered deliberately. "Scary guy." Sighing heavily, Amy asked, "So...what are we waiting for?"

"This." And Cristobel tapped his communicator.

***

"Amy, secure the hostage," Sefton's voice announced, creeping out of the Alliance communicator on Storm's arm. "Prepare one of the pods on Deck 12, Section 15."

Amy mumbled an afirmative but it was drowned out by the pestering EMH, who actually sneered at the sound of Cris's voice. "Is he talking to you? Why's he calling you 'Amy'?"

"He's not. Now, shhh..." Storm said, shushing the hologram but there was no further communication forthcoming. The EMH waited patiently for an answer.

"I hotwired this communicator to monitor them," Storm explained. "I had to fuse the channel open across the band spectrum. That's the first time they've used them to talk to one another."

"What hostage taking part of your little game?" the EMH asked with disdain.

"The game was Intruder Alert," Storm shot back. "There are no set rules except survival. However, Sefton chose the Azarath Alliance to be the intruders so he may be following their tactics."

"And what are their tactics?"

"Destruction, mostly," Storm answered. "Wanton, chaotic destruction. They do take captives but this is mostly for their own entertainment; they nearly never hostage them."

"So," began the EMH, saying its thoughts aloud. "This is most likely..."

"It's definitely a trap," Storm said with absolute conviction. "Sefton may have convinced someone to play the part of a hostage to make the game more interesting but that communication was meant for my ears. Of that I am sure."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to the escape pods on Deck 12, Section 15," Storm answered. "You heard that background hum. Sefton was within three meters of the warp core. He's preparing to blow up the ship and Amy is going to be at their escape pod waiting to kill me. Are you ready?"

The EMH exhaled, though it had no need to do so. "Ready."

"Okay," Ethan said, smiling and punching buttons on the medical console. "You're off to Engineering. But first, we have to make some changes."

***

Having sent Amy along to the escape pods, Cristobel carefully watched the entrance to Main Engineering, hoping Storm wouldn't do anything foolish like ignoring the hostage situation. While he waited for word from the girls that they'd disposed of Storm, Cris folded his arms across his chest and smirked, realising that coming up with the plan was absolute perfection. Since he came up with the plan, it had involved everyone else running around shooting people - an activity Terrans seemed to enjoy, but Cris found distasteful. All the while, he stroked the trigger for the photon grenades placed all over the warp core and antimatter storage tanks.

"I always knew I saw homicidal sociopath in your eyes," the Emergency Medical Hologram accused Cris from the catwalk above and behind him.

Flusteredly turning to face the EMH, Cristobel questioned it shrilly, "What are you doing here?"

Cristobel's dark eyes bulged in surprise at what he saw looming beyond the EMH. Or, more accurately, what he didn't see.

"Where's the warp core?"

The EMH's face stretched out to monstrous proportions, becoming a ceiling to floor forcefield. Cristobel jerked back, but bumped into the EMH's enlarged torso after only half a step. It was the EMH's turn to smirk large.

"Ejected it."

***

By the time Storm reached Deck 12, he felt as if both shoulders had slipped out of their sockets. Storm was all for a challenging scenario but secretly he wished Sefton had left the turbolifts operational. He had spent most of this one climbing between decks with a bloody sleeve between his teeth. At least he could probably skip his workouts for the next day or two.

Storm crept along slowly once he got close to Section 15, the two disruptors at the ready. He'd hoped that Sefton and his team were busy setting charges in Engineering and that the EMH might be able to trap them long enough for Storm to check if there was indeed a hostage. If there was, he could effect a rescue and have another ally for the end game. If there was no hostage, then hopefully Storm's superior experience could handle whomever was left free, assuming that the EMH came through on his end. It was a big assumption.

His two disruptors came around the corner a microsecond before Storm peeked carefully around it himself. Just a few meters away from the escape pod alcove, a woman Storm recognized from his extensive perusal of the personnel database as Ensign Amy Reese paced the corridor slowly back and forth. Her hair was jet-black with white streaks and she wore tawny-colored leather clothing. Amy held a disrupter in one hand and casually tossed a photon grenade up and down in the other. Storm had to smile: She definitely looked like a friend of Sefton's, even without the Alliance clothes.

Beyond Amy there were two escape pods with both doors open and Storm could make out a figure wearing a gold and black Starfleet uniform sitting in one of them. The figure had its back to him, making it impossible for Storm to figure out the identity or even the sex from this distance. Storm wished he had grabbed a tricorder from sickbay so he could scan and ascertain if the figure was a real live player or if Sefton was simply attempting the same holographic corpse trick Storm had tried himself in the Security Office. Storm was reminded of the single scan he'd managed from the Bridge: Three lifesigns. Cris. Amy. The Figure. That was three.

Maybe Sefton had convinced someone to wait for a rescue the entire game but Storm doubted it. More than likely, the figure in the pod was one of the Alliance members and would be on Storm the minute he tried to take out Reese. If he was going to do it, he had to do it fast and quiet. When Reese finally disappeared around the corner, Storm slipped out into the corridor and began to creep up slowly on her position.

"Gah! What is taking Crissy so long? Shouldn't this ship be blown up yet?" Amy simply sighed and continued her patrol of the corridor. She propped her shoulder against the wall and abandoned her patrol for the moment. She tapped her communicator and called out to Cris, asking him to move his cute little butt and give her the fireworks display he'd promised.

When Amy tapped her Alliance communicator, she heard an answering chirp from the corridor and the echoing sound of her own voice. She also fancied she'd heard a stifled curse and the sound of something hitting the deck.

Amy's voice faltered for a moment, but she resisted the sprint around the corner and search for the source of the reverberations, for she had a feeling she knew where it was coming from and that their quarry had fallen into their well-laid trap. A self-satisfied smile pulled at Amy's lips as she tightened her grip on her disruptor and continued her one-sided banter with Cris, who seemed to be refusing to speak to her. Must have been the 'cute butt' comment. "You know," she said especially loudly, almost wincing at the magnitude of the twin voices broadcasting through the small corridor, "that fella sure is good at this. I imagine he should be on top of us anytime now."

She sighed airily and started an idle pace to where her ears were pinpointing the origin of the echo, and hopefully Storm. "You know...now that I think about it," she continued, stifling a giggle as she neared the alcove wall behind which the sound seemed to be arising, "he's not very good at all." Amy noisily sniffed the air. "In fact, he stinks!"

Emitting a shrill war cry, interrupted by slight giggles, she sprang forward, her disrupter ready. "Peekaboo," she called out.

There lying on the deck along with two disruptors was an Alliance communicator.

"What the--?"

From the shadows of the alcove, Storm lashed out lightning quick and jerked the disrupter from the distracted Amy's hand. A fraction of a second later, he had her weapon pointing back at her. Storm couldn't believe his stupidity; forgetting to power down the communicator when he got close to her position. Now, standing face-to-face with her, Storm realized just how lucky he'd been.

"So...whatcha gonna do, tough guy?" she taunted. "Hmm?"

Storm didn't speak but took a quick glance at the figure in the pod and insured there had been no movement. He then held out his other hand and motioned for Amy to hand him the photon grenade. A slight hesitation on her part to do so found the disruptor pushed even closer to her face in an implied threat. Amy handed him the grenade and he motioned her inside the unoccupied escape pod that shared the alcove.

"You know, if this is your way of asking me out, you're coming on a little strong." She sighed and moved to the back of the pod, turning around to face Storm who still had the disruptor leveled on her chest. "Big meany," she muttered.

With another quick glance at the figure sitting quietly in the other pod, Storm calmly activated the photon grenade and tossed it to the surprised Amy as he jammed his hand down on the launch button. The pod door closed swiftly with a mechanical whoosh and it departed the ship. The last sight Amy saw through the observation window as the thrusters carried the pod away from the Sulu was Ensign Storm, standing behind the shimmering blue forcefield that sealed off the area the pod had just vacated. He smiled at her and gave a slight wave.

Storm had misjudged the power of the photonic charge and the resulting explosion rocked the ship, throwing him off his feet and sending his disruptor skidding. All the panels around him showered the deck in sparks and for a moment Storm feared that the hull may be breeched or the forcefield might fail. From the occupied pod, he heard an exclamation of surprise even as the computer kept score:

"Ensign Reese has been killed," it announced, barely audible over the destruction.

Still being showered in sparks, Storm began to crawl inside to check on the hostage. Now closer, Storm noticed that the figure appeared to be female and also appeared to be wearing a black and grey and gold Starfleet uniform that was much too large for her. All around them, panels inside the pod were crackling and fizzling with blue energy.

"Are you okay?" Storm asked, reaching out to the figure and forgetting all his training and his initial misgivings.

Shyla Moreau spun around, a disruptor leveled at Storm. She was trembling at the force and realism of the explosion but that was nothing compared to the surprise of seeing Storm's face. Storm, on his knees and covered with holographic grime and cuts, shared her surprise in spades. When he opened his mouth to speak, Shyla pulled the trigger. The beam caught Storm in the chest, burning away his uniform, flesh, bone and opening a fist-sized cavity in his ribcage.

The computer voice of the holodeck chirped and simply announced: "Ensign Storm has been killed. Simulation is over."

Storm rose to his feet with his chest still smoldering, his face a mask of rage. "Computer," he said evenly. "End program."

The holographic facade of the USS Sulu fell away along with Storm's simulated wounds and uniform grime, revealing each of the players. Ensign Viraj, who had been shirtlessly tucked away with hands bound in another escape pod, looked around with relief. Ensign Sefton, free of his Engineering prison and the taunting EMH, looked to Storm with a smile but it fell when he sensed the rage radiating from the security officer. Amy had been made invisible when the holographic Sulu simply wrapped itself around her after her destruction and substrate forcefields had moved her to the arch so she could leave without disturbing the simulation. She wasn't telepathic but she could clearly tell that something was wrong. Shyla simply raised her chin and looked at Storm defiantly.

Storm turned on Cris and jabbed a finger at Shyla. "What's she doing here, Cris?! What did you do?! Poke around in my head?! Come up with her just to humiliate me?!"

"How have you been humiliated?" Cristobel asked completely evenly, showing no physical response to Ethan's aggression. "How do you even know Shyla?"

Storm crossed the distance between him and Sefton in an instant and Cris sensed the clear intention from Storm that he was going to be struck. When it came to it though, Storm checked himself with Herculean effort and simply seethed for a moment before speaking.

"Sefton," Storm said through clenched teeth. "Stay out of my damned life." And then he stalked past Amy to and through the holodeck door.

---

"Bracing For Aftershocks"
by Crewman 1st Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician
Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
Dr. Corran Quezith - Civilian Biologist

Location: Ensign Sefton and Dr. Quezith's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.01, 21h44

***

Cristobel Sefton emerged from the head dressed in a robe and still wiping the water from his hair. Choosing a shower with actual water had been uncommon and a tad rude, considering that he had a guest waiting, but it was so much more soothing than the sonic option. And right now, Sefton needed some soothing after what had happened on the holodeck.

Crewman Moreau, the aforementioned guest, was sitting at the table in the small dining nook, engaged in hushed conversation with Corran Quezith. She was actually listening rather than talking at the moment, her face a bit melancholy. When Sefton appeared around the corner, she visibly brightened, but maintained a bit of sadness in her eyes.

"Cris," she said accusingly, trying hard to be mirthful. "Dr. Quezith was just telling me about your Cadet Instructor on the Miranda."

"Which one?" Cristobel asked tentatively, unsure if he even wanted to know. "Dr. Bitch, the schizo, or Mr. Sleepy, the one I had those nightmares about having sex with?"

"The...uh...first one," Shyla responded, and mentally reminded herself to ask about the second one another time. "How she always arranged for you to pilot the runabouts in the holosimulations, and how you managed to smash them all up. I assume he exaggerated the number of--"

"No exaggeration," Cris deadpanned, and then animatedly pointed to the pot on the dining table. "Is that tea?"

Corran nodded quietly, but it didn't take long for him to crack a slight smile. "A little something I finally got around to programming into the computer, something from home. It should have cooled down enough by now." He got up and reached for it and started to serve two cups, one for Cris' friend and the last for Cristobel. He himself had felt that his stomach had tightened up in knots, so he wasn't hungry or thirsty.

Shuffling over to Corran, Cris squeezed his shoulder and quickly thanked him for the tea. "I presume formal introductions have already been made." Cristobel nodded from Corri to Shyla. "Have you been down to Shyla's domain, yet?" he asked Corran.

He shook his head as he glanced over to Shyla and smiled haphazardly, " 'Fraid not, I'm still dodging out into microscopes and plants as much as I can." He walked over to the replicator to get himself a glass of milk or something. He didn't want Shyla or Cris to register on his not feeling well.

"This is the first I've laid eyes on Dr. Quezith," Shyla said. "After three days on board, I was beginning to regard him as somewhat a mythological figure like Bigfoot or the Spore Render of Celtris III."

"I'm sure you'll find he's much more like Prince Charming," Cris remarked, as he sat down in his chair.

"Ohhh, damn. Here I was finally getting myself a reputation," Corran finally joked a little, although the idea of being mythological to the crew was actually kind of entertaining to him. How many people became 'mythological'? "Too bad, don't have lots of hair, big feet, or spew spores."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Shyla said with a wistful smile, her mind returning to recent events. When she noticed them looking at her she quickly revised her statement: "I hear it's not all it's cracked up to be. I have no firsthand knowledge of big hairy feet or spore spewing."

"Crud, here I thought I might have someone to put under my microscope 'finally.' " He tsked as he sat down on the couch finally, actually getting a little sociable while avoiding the glances from Cristobel. He had a feeling he'd picked up on his emotions for sure. Figured.

Growing slightly frustrated with his inability to catch Corran's gaze, Cris turned to Shyla, and bluntly asked, "So what happened?"

Shyla started shaking her head. "With Ethan? I don't know, Cris. That was not the guy I knew from the Academy. He used to be so laid back...to his detriment even. When I saw him on the station, I could tell something was different but I would have never thought he could even get that angry."

"He wasn't that angry. He was angrier," Cris said without a trace of humour.

"I just wish we had gone over the list of players before our little game," Shyla said, trying hard to smile. "We could have avoided the whole mess."

"Did he mention not wanting to run into you when you talked to him on the station? Were you two going to avoid one another?" Cris asked, racking his memory for possible reasons for Ethan's outburst.

"It was civil enough, I guess. We hadn't talked for nearly two years, even before things went bad for him on the Yeager. I had no plans on avoiding him once I made the decision to transfer here. I was actually kind of hoping..." Shyla stopped and reconsidered her words. "Maybe he had other plans," she finished with a shrug, leaving her hopes unspoken.

"Well, why do you suppose he was embarrassed?" Cristobel inquired, trying a different line of questioning. "I mean, before the angry and before he accused me of trying to humiliate him, he truly felt humiliated."

"I can't even imagine," Shyla said, looking truly shocked. "If anyone in our little scenario should have felt embarrassed, it should have been me. I was the one that fell kind of hard, kind of fast."

Thinking she was referring to the scenario, Cristobel said, "Ouch. Did you scrape your knees?"

Shyla went crimson instantly at the innuendo though she wasn't sure if it was intentional. "I meant the situation with Storm and me at the Academy. I helped him in some of the fourth year science requirements and we got kind of clo --"

"You tutored him in the gardens at the Academy," Cristobel said as if he were reciting a long-forgotten line from a school play. With a furrowed brow, Cris just stared into Shyla's eyes, perplexed over why he had recalled that.

The redness drained from Shyla's face instantly. "How did you know that?" she asked, suddenly aware that she was in the room with two telepaths and that she had secrets that she didn't want to be common knowledge.

"I don't--" Cris shook his head, and then his eyes lit up like twin novas. "Ethan. When I first met him. I...mentioned the arboretum and he had the most intense memory of you. In the gardens. On Earth." Cris sounded surprised at the words that came out of his own mouth. "It didn't seem remarkable at the time. Even when I met you -- the two faces never synched up before."

Shyla was relieved and even a bit flattered that the information came from Storm's mind and not her own. The relief was fleeting and was soon replaced with a degree of concern after she had looked at Corran sitting quietly on the couch. There was nothing overtly disturbing about his appearance -- he seemed to be listening politely -- but there was a flicker of something in his eye that Shyla noticed and recognized.

"Dr. Quezith, are you feeling okay?" she asked.

Corran had been sitting quietly, but his eyes had given him away. What Shyla had seen as a flicker from a distance had actually been color fluctuations in his eyes. He'd been picking up on certain things from Shyla he should not have, and now it was hindering his abilities further...

He nodded a few times as he glanced over to her. "I'm fine, this is just really interesting..." But the look he gave her projected knowledge. He knew something and wasn't saying it. He didn't know if Cris had picked up on it too yet, but he had no right to go fishing for it, not in this Federation universe. He was consciously hiding this knowledge in dark areas of his own mind that had started to form after his assignment to the Miranda.

Whipping his head towards Corran, Cris silently scrutinised him with incredulity in his eyes. Then: "Lying much?"

Corran got visibly upset, and his eyes changed to a very dark tone of brown as he looked to Cristobel, not even sure what he should say to that. He looked at Shyla and then at his own glass before he decided to stand up. "I'll be back in a little bit, you two can talk..." He wasn't irritated, but Cris' words had been hurtful, and Corran was admittedly vulnerable these days. It didn't help that Shyla was adding to that emotional instability. He stood up and walked out of their shared quarters to go for a walk around the deck.

I'm sorry for being harsh, Cristobel 'pathed to Corran just as the doors slid shut behind him. You surprised me, and you know I'm not emotional-control boy. But you-- you're hiding things, which isn't exactly natural for either of us.

We'll talk later, Cris, just please don't ever do that to me again in front of anyone... Corran wiped his eyes lightly as he started to breathe in and out slowly, recuperating little by little.

Cristobel picked up the mug, and gazed down at his tea as Shyla did the same. Although Shyla was not privy to the words exchanged telepathically between Cris and Corran, the room had suddenly been cast in shadow and her own mood was darkening rapidly. She couldn't place a finger on it but there was something disturbingly familiar in the way Dr. Quezith had looked at her. She no longer felt comfortable.

"I should go," she said, rising. "It's late and we're all on alpha." When Cris didn't look up from his mug, she added: "Cris, am I crazy?"

Cris still didn't look up from his mug immediately. He stared at the dark liquid, and then he blinked hard, and looked up at Shyla abruptly. "Wuh?"

"About Ethan, I mean?" she asked. "There is something about the guy, right?"

Contemplating her question, Cris' eyes shifted to stare over Shyla's shoulder to the viewport. Before another awkward silence could arise, Cristobel nodded in agreement.

---