"Swingingly Yours"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck One
Stardate 57907.10 00h30

***

Ainsley walked down the hall toward holodeck one, and spotted Mason before he spotted her. He was dressed to kill, in two-tone oxfords, a rich brown pin-striped suit with a double-breasted jacket, and a cream-colored tie. He had a fedora pulled low over his eyes, and was leaning against the corridor wall, arms folded and one leg crossed over the other.

Ainsley slowed a little as she got closer to the doors to the holodeck. She was feeling a little nervous, and a little self conscious as well. She'd asked the computer to provide her with a dress that would match the shoes that she had been asked to wear. But she wasn't quite sure that she was dressed appropriately. She had on a cream coloured dress which reached to a few inches below her knees. It had a square neckline, a fitted bodice and a full skirt made of a filmy material that allowed it to flow around her.

She'd been fairly certain that she knew who she'd be meeting. After all Mason had told her in her office that he wanted to take her dancing. She was pleased now to find that she had been right. She gathered her wits and approached Mason. "Hi!" she began. "You look great."

Mason looked up and smiled from beneath the brim of his hat, every inch the dashing rogue. "You too." He took her in. She was an impressive woman, no doubt about it. Smallish and delicate, with beautiful eyes. She had been the talk of the Ranger, and he could see why. "Glad you made it," he continued. "Shall we?" He extended an arm and faced the holodeck door. A sleepy engineering crewman rounded the bend with a toolbox, took a look at the pair, and went back the way he had come.

Ainsley smiled as she watched him go and then nodded at Mason, taking his arm. "He's going to think he was dreaming I'm sure..."

"No doubt," Mason said with a smile.

The holodeck doors hissed open, and Ainsley stepped into a dancehall lobby straight out of the 1940s. Several couches sat along one wall. A coat check window held a bored-looking young lady popping her gum. A ceiling fan revolved slowly overhead. Mason handed his hat to the coat girl as he escorted Ainsley in. Everything seemed tinted brown ever so slightly. It gave the place a dreamlike feel.

"Do you swing?" Mason asked as they approached the main hall doors. A low rumble of drums could be heard from beyond.

Ainsley was a little overwhelmed by the entire program. She felt her face redden slightly. "Ummm...swing?"

"It's a dance. Swing?" he prompted.

Ainsley shook her head. "No, I'm sorry I've never swinged...errr...swung." She rolled her eyes at herself. "I've never tried that type of dancing."

"No problem," Mason chuckled. "I'll teach you the basics tonight, then. How much time do you have? I'd hate to have to face your father for getting you home too late," he added with a wink.

"This is shore leave! I have all night," she replied with a grin. "And if my father asks where I've been I'll tell him the truth. I'm old enough now and it's none of his damn business!"

Mason put on the comical look of a man impressed. "Well, then, let's dance." And with that, he pushed open the door.

The music washed over them as they entered. If the lobby had carried a dreamlike atmosphere, the dancehall itself was a wonderland. People in the dapper fashion of centuries past thronged the hall, twirling, spinning, and stepping lively. At the far end of the hall stood a raised platform on which sat an orchestra, tuxedo-clad behind half-high covers bearing a stylized top hat and cane symbol. The orchestra was belting out an old tune, deeply rhythmic yet fully melodic. Ainsley couldn't help but tap her foot just standing there. The atmosphere was dynamic, the energy of the dancers contagious.

Mason led her out to a spot on the floor. "There are four basic moves," he began. "We'll work on those tonight and start putting them together. And don't worry, the computer's programmed to give us all the space we need."

"Ok..." Ainsley responded. She looked around at the people dancing again and swallowed nervously. "But do you really expect me to do that" --she pointed at them-- "in these?" She gestured down to her shoes. She'd had her doubts when she had first put them on that she would be able to dance in them, and they had been the second pair that the computer had provided. The first pair had had very thin heels that she couldn't imagine anyone being able to walk in, let alone dance.

Mason looked down. "Those are a little high, aren't they? Let's get you something in a little lower heel. The heel itself isn't that big a deal; you'll be up on the balls of your feet anyway, but it's probably better to have something a little more stable. Computer, freeze program."

Everything halted. It was surreal to be within such a large group of unmoving people. "Computer," Mason continued, "remove the dancers and orchestra. And provide a pair of dancing shoes in the size of Ensign Ainsley Chambers, one-inch heel, tan colored."

The dancers vanished, leaving them alone in the cavernous hall. On a table to one side, a pair of shoes appeared.

"Here," Mason said, walking over to the table. "Try these on." He pulled her out a chair to sit on, and hung his jacket on another. He was wearing suspenders and arm garters to match his tie.

Ainsley sat and removed her shoes and picked up the ones that the computer now provided. They fit perfectly and appeared to be a little better suited for dancing. She got to her feet and nodded. "These are much better!" She took Mason's offered hand and stood.

"So have you done any ballroom dancing?" Mason asked, leading her out onto the main floor.

Ainsley nodded again. "A little, mostly when I was younger." Now that the other dancers were gone she was feeling a little less intimidated and a little more sure of herself. She smiled at Mason.

"Then you'll know the basic stance. We'll start from there," he said, stepping politely near her and taking her hand, placing another on the small of her back. She laid her free hand on his shoulder.

"Now look down," Mason instructed. "You may as well watch your feet to begin with. Now everything happens on a series of beats. We'll start with a basic four-beat figure, and see where it goes from there. Start with your right foot, and..."

And so it went. The next hour was awkward, but interesting. Ainsley stepped on Mason's feet countless times. He took it all in stride; he finally had to ask her to stop apologizing.

Ainsley was having a good time. She was learning something new and, like any new language or new skill, it was difficult and a little frustrating but she excelled in new things. She was picking up the steps fairly quickly but hoped Mason's toes wouldn't feel the brunt of it the next day.

"Okay," he said at last. "Ready to try it to music?"

She stepped back from him and nodded. "Think so. Can we try it a few times with the music but without the other people?" She could just picture herself knocking in to one pair of dancers and causing a domino effect.

"Sure," Farrell said with a grin. "Computer, orchestra."

"What's your pleasure, Mr. Farrell?" the chocolate-skinned conductor asked pleasantly from in front of the freshly replaced holo-band.

"Something simple, Theo," Mason called back. "Give us some Ellington. 'Caravan.' "

Theo nodded and whipped his baton into the air. Mason met Ainsley in the basic stance as the drums began again, and they started well. In fact, the whole piece went well. The music was glamorous and heady, first a trombone, then a clarinet, then a muted trumpet bell. The melody sounded vaguely Arabic, but it was superimposed over a rhythmic backbeat that went straight to the bone. It was over before she knew it. And she didn't step on Mason's feet once.

Mason spent the entire first song watching Ainsley closely. Part of him was working on avoiding her feet. The other was admiring her form for one so new to this dance style. She was agile, and picked up quickly. And, of course, she was gorgeous. He could watch her smile all night.

"Not bad," Mason said as the song wound down altogether too quickly. "Want to do another?"

"Yes, definitely," Ainsley replied, allowing her hand to play back and forth lightly on his shoulder. "I'm really enjoying this, thank you for asking me." She smiled radiantly at him.

"Theo?" Farrell called. "Give us a basic set, please." Theo moved to oblige.

"You know, I think I'm ready to have some of the other people brought back in here," Ainsley ventured.

Farrell's eyebrows rose. "I do love the Intrepid," he mumbled, just before he commanded five other pairs of dancers onto the floor.

The music began again, and Ainsley and Mason fell into the tempo easily. Both started to relax, growing used to dancing with each other.

"I have a bit of a confession to make," Farrell said slyly.

"Hmmm?" Ainsley asked, looking up at him as they moved together.

"I checked out your personnel file. How does a girl grow up the daughter of University professors in Rome and not learn to dance?" he asked with a smile.

Ainsley felt her cheeks redden slightly. "Well...I don't know. We tried a few different types of dancing when we were younger. Ali took to ballet a little better then I did, I liked tap for awhile. Then I discovered languages." She grinned at him. "What about you? How'd you become such an expert?"

"Oh, I'm no expert," Farrell chuckled. "Where I grew up, there was no close school, so all my learning happened through computer extension. That left us kids with more free time than normal children." He paused to spin Ainsley, and continued after she had completed the move. "On the ranch where I grew up, my abuela saw to it that rather than get into trouble in our spare time, we'd learn something useful. She taught us to dance. I'm actually a little out of practice. You ought to see my brothers."

"Brothers? You mean there are more of you?" Ainsley asked with humorous sarcasm. "And are they all so charming?"

"Three brothers and a sister," Mason said. "I am, of course, the most charming." He let that hang for a moment, and then both he and Ainsley laughed. "In my own mind, at least. When none of them are here to argue. All of us together are really something. All of McNary knew about the 'kids from the Double J.' "

"McNary? Is that the name of the town you lived in?" Ainsley asked, truly interested in knowing a little more about her dance partner.

"West Texas, outside El Paso," Mason nodded. "The Double J was my grandparents' ranch. Real beef for luxury markets."

"That must have been an interesting childhood," Ainsley replied, thinking about what it must have been like to live on a ranch like that. "I don't know that I could have handled it. I mean, I assume they shipped the beef out for people to eat, I would have been too attached to them and have a fit every time one of them was sent away."

"We all had to deal with that," Mason said sagely. "Every kid who deals with cattle gets attached to one somewhere along the way. It happens. Personally, I don't think I'd have been able to handle growing up in a big city. I imagine you can't just pick a direction in Rome and ride until sunset."

Ainsley smiled. "No, you can't. But I enjoy the history there; I used to walk around the art galleries and the museums. And there was a fantastic little café at the coliseum." Her smile turned a little wistful as she thought about growing up in Rome and her day dreams about gladiators.

"Speaking of cafés," Mason said, as the current song drew to a close. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes, please!" Ainsley responded with a nod. "And maybe a brief rest..." she added. She was feeling slightly winded after dancing for so long. The first hour hadn't been too strenuous but the last couple dances had been fast enough if you weren't used to that type of dancing.

Mason gestured back to the table where their things were, and ordered drinks while pulling a chair out for Ainsley. "So" --he sipped his ice-water-- "anybody ever ask you out with balloons before?"

Ainsley giggled. "No, I'd have to say that you are the first." She took a sip of her water and began crunching on the ice, thinking about her reaction when she had opened the door to find the balloons there. "I almost didn't answer the door. I'd just stepped out of the shower and the computer told me that there was no one there. How did you do it? Did you transport them there or something?"

"Actually, I ran a communications bypass from your doorchime to a tricorder. I left the balloons, and triggered your doorchime from down the corridor. But I probably shouldn't have told you that. Now you know. I'll have to think of something better next time," he winked.

"Do you ever do anything the normal way?" Ainsley asked, then shook her head. "Don't even answer that, I think I already know the response. You never do anything that people would expect!"

"Normal's boring," Mason said, taking another swallow. "One time back home my brothers and I went to a girl's house and serenaded her into dating my brother. Besides, I'll bet you get asked out all the time. One must do something," he said in a sonorous tone, "to make one's request stand out."

Ainsley shook her head lightly. "It's been ages since I got asked out. The last date I went on I was the one who did the asking, and it was really just dinner with an old friend. Nothing really came of that one." She looked sad for a moment, then turned her eyes back up to Mason. "You on the other hand, I'm sure you're being chased by adoring women all the time!"

"Oh yeah," he said facetiously. "I have to beat 'em off with a stick." He laughed. "No, I haven't really dated for years. I had a bad reputation on Ranger as the 'guy-who-got-demoted,' so no career-minded woman would even think about it."

Ainsley's eyes searched his face, trying to see if he really believed what he was telling her. She was pretty sure that he did. "That demotion affected you much more than you let on..." Ainsley stated. "Are you sure that it was the actual demotion that turned people off? Could it have been the way the demotion made you feel instead..." She trailed off then and shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's habit. I'll turn my counselor mode back off."

Mason laughed. "I imagine you can't turn it off. It's part of who you are. And it suits you." He looked at her squarely, his eyes twinkling. "But, are you saying I didn't have that reputation on Ranger?"

Ainsley shook her head. "I'll admit you did have an undesirable reputation...but I was asking what you thought caused that reputation. Maybe it wasn't solely because you were demoted..." She trailed off. "It was just an observation, and something to think about."

"No no no," Mason smiled, wagging a finger in mock warning. "Now you have to tell me what you mean. What was my reputation?"

"The way I understood it was, you were the guy who had been demoted and hadn't bounced back from it." Now she wished she hadn't brought it up; she hoped it didn't put too much of a damper on the fun they were having.

Mason's humor died. He sat very still for a moment, and then sat back heavily, as though deflating. "Wow," he said quietly, his mind corkscrewing around the idea.

Ainsley closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. This is why I never go on second dates! she told herself. She watched Mason as he sat there deep in thought. She started to worry when he didn't say anything for a bit.

"Almost five years," he said, more to himself than to Ainsley. "I thought I was past it."

Ainsley sat forward in her chair; that wasn't quite the response she had expected, but she ran with it. She placed her hand on Mason's leg and said, "From what I've read in your profile you didn't give yourself the chance to get past it. Things like this need to be discussed. Sometimes it helps to just bounce thoughts off of other people. All of us are like that. I don't believe you ever let anyone help you. You did your time, but you kept everything tightly inside and attempted to deal with it yourself."

Mason nodded, taking that in, looking at her hand on his leg. He gave a single shallow laugh then, appearing as though he'd had an epiphany. "My first department head, the one that died, always told me that the job of Ops was to assemble the right people for the right job. I thought I'd learned that lesson." He looked up, managing a smile. "I guess not, eh?"

Ainsley smiled then, too. "It's never too late! I hear there are fantastic counselors onboard!"

He laughed genuinely. "You snuck up on me," he pointed affably at her, his humor back. "I'll consider counseling. Again." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "But enough about all that," he said, waving the topic away. He looked pointedly at the dance floor, and then back to Ainsley, the question obvious in his eyes.

"You think your toes can handle more of the abuse?" she asked with a grin.

"My toes are at your disposal, ma'am," he grinned back as he rose and offered her his hand.

***

It was quite a few hours later when Mason led a tired but happy Ainsley back to her quarters. The ship was exceptionally quiet, the lights dimmed for night-cycle. They walked down the corridor silently, with Ainsley's arm linked in his. She was walking bare foot, holding her first pair of shoes in her other hand; she hadn't even attempted to put them on when the other pair had disappeared with the holoprogram.

Ainsley purposely slowed their pace as they approached her quarters, not really wanting the night to end just yet. But they eventually made it to her door.

"Well, this is me..." she said. Stopping just out of sensor range, so that the doors would not open, she turned and looked up at him. She flashed him a glowing smile.

"I really enjoyed tonight," Mason said, turning to face her in the hallway, taking her hand in both of his. "Thanks. For everything." He let that hang in the air, his meaning clear. "I hope I haven't kept you out too late," he grinned back at her. He could watch her smile all night. He wondered if he should try and kiss her. It struck him as odd that he would even think about it. Given the events of the last few days, if she had been anyone else they'd probably already be in bed. Thinking about that made him feel guilty, but he pushed the thoughts aside so he could listen to her reply.

"No, not at all. It's still shore leave and I don't have anything important going on later. And even if I did, I had such a good time!" She looked down at their hands for a moment. She wondered if he was expecting her to ask him in, and really she was a little tempted, but she knew she wouldn't. Looking back up at him, she raised up on her tip toes and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "It was lots of fun!" She sunk back down to her normal height and looked into his eyes.

"Shall we get together again sometime, then?" he asked.

"I would really, really like that," she responded with a nod.

"Good," he said, as he tugged on her hand. She, having been following his lead across a dance floor all night, reacted by turning about. Mason brought her in close, her back against his chest, and his arm across her waist. He lightly kissed Ainsley's cheek, and then spun her back out, letting go of her hand as he did so.

"Thanks again," he said, tipping his hat. He gave her a final smile and turned down the corridor, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked away.

Ainsley watched Mason walk away until he turned the corner and then she leaned back against the wall and sighed happily. She'd really had a great time. She was happy that she had learned something new in the process. She was also happy that she seemed to have gotten through to Mason; she hoped that he really would go see a counselor. She took one more look down the corridor and then entered her quarters.

---

" 'dent'ty Cr's's"
by Ensign Viraj - Operations Officer [NPC+]

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57907.10, 04h29

***

Carefully putting one foot in front of the other, Viraj silently walked out of the scrub station. He grasped a dormant tricorder, set to operations configuration, from a medcart, and motionlessly stood just barely inside the threshold of the operating room. He paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark. All of the lights in the adjacent rooms (except for ones with conscious patients) were set on low night settings, and yet the operating room seemed to have even less illumination. Nurse Annikafiore Szerda remained in the scrub station, squinting at the patient through the transparent observation wall.

The patient was sitting upright on the bed, hunched forward, with his back to Viraj and Szerda.

Everything on the ship seemed out of sort - most officers' circadian rhythms, in particular. It was difficult to sleep when the entire crew seemed to be in a sort of holding pattern, waiting for something else to go wrong, and then deal with it. This was why Viraj decided to make something go right, even if it was small and unimportant.

"How are you feeling?" Viraj asked in his softest, most gentlest voice.

"Aren't I the one who should be asking you to state the nature of your medical emergency?" the patient, the EMH Mark II, asked of Viraj.

"I...suppose so..."

One half of Viraj's smile curled up. He was relieved that the patient still sounded like the original Mark II EMH. Viraj had managed to scrounge together more memory chips yesterday, and before that, at Cris' farewell party, he had talked to Flummux about reprogramming the EMH's physical form once more. From his conversations with Flummux at the party, and then this morning when Flummux had been able to make the EMH a priority, Viraj wasn't entirely sure that he had communicated himself properly. Flummux had made some odd conversational responses to the things Viraj had said.

"You gave me my body back..." the EMH murmured, as he bent forward to clasp an ankle. After his brief time as only a head and hands, it felt good to have any body again, even if it didn't quite feel like his own. His entire build felt significantly slighter than before - to save memory, he supposed...until he slid his hands higher up to his calves. His legs felt more muscular than they had been before. His waist and chest felt firmer as well. He examined his hands; the fingers were longer and seemed better tapered, more befitting of a surgeon. "You've improved upon me," the EMH said with pride.

"I did?" Viraj asked, looking to Annikafiore with concern. He had thought that he'd asked Flummux to restore the EMH to its original form. "Uh, I did," Viraj said more assuredly, to put the EMH at ease. When the EMH sat up straight, Viraj nearly gasped, noticing that his hair wasn't the shade of blond it should be. The EMH's hair was short, spiky, a rich brownish colour and it seemed to almost shimmer.

"Computer, lights," the EMH ordered. The operating room filled with brightness, and the EMH instantly gaped in absolute horror at his reflection on a darkened control panel. The EMH looked exactly like nurse Cristobel Sefton.

"Holygod, no. No. No. No!" the EMH said to his own reflection. He stood up from the bed and slammed a fist into the control panel. It didn't break, of course. And so he slammed his fist into it again and again. And then he added a second fist, and swung his entire arms at the console. It still didn't break or even scratch.

As the EMH continued to pound his reflection, Viraj remarked to Szerda, "I don't think he likes it. Do you?"

"Not so much," Annikafiore said dryly. The EMH was punching his reflection with an open palm now. "He's always trying to slap, Cris," she noted.

"Hand-held glass mirror!" the EMH ordered of the replicator. He stalked over to the dispenser, picked up the mirror, gaped at his horrifying reflection once more, and then smashed the mirror on the replicator's control panel.

Viraj couldn't help rolling his eyes (as he'd noticed most of Sickbay's nurses were wont to do). He set about to programming the shipsystems to clean up the shards of glass, but was stopped by the EMH pointing a finger at him and gravely stating, "You."

"You have to fix me," the EMH continued irately. "Make me right. Now. I will not look like this Betazoid insult to the practice of medicine."

Practically whimpering at the rage pointed in his direction, Viraj explained, "We can't. Not yet. It took over a day for Flummux to find the time to overhaul you like this, and if he resorted to using personnel files to base you upon, we probably lost what you really look like. We'll probably have to contact Starfleet Medical to..."

The EMH let out a despaired whimper of his own, before evenly saying, "Computer...just...delete Emergency Medical Hologram."

"That command is not recognised," the computer stated.

Off of the EMH's pained look, Viraj meekly explained, "We deleted your suicide subroutine."

The EMH muttered a soundless, "Oh," and his shoulders slumped. Viraj bit his lower lip and broke eye-contact with the EMH. Annikafiore looked up at the ceiling, in thought, and then she looked to the EMH. She pursed her lips, and then thought of what to say.

"...I guess he had to make room for designing all that shiny red hair dye."

---

"Diplomacy 101"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla - First Officer
Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Lt. Saavar - Deputy Chief of Science
Members of the Farehn'ti Delegation

Location: Tomorian Towers, Diplomatic Wing, Risa
Stardate 57907.10, 08h00

***

Lyrr had arrived early at the conference chambers to mentally prepare herself for the day's negotiations. She had read over the agenda Matt had compiled the night before his stabbing and the list was an extensive one. No matter how much progress the Farehn'ti made, there always seemed to many more issues to discuss than were resolved. At this rate, Lyrr estimated the Farehn'ti would be waiting for Federation membership for years. Though, after reviewing the evidence they had acquired to suggest Farehn'ti involvement in the violence surrounding the negotiations, she imagined that was their intended goal.

Lyrr, however, was determined to end the charade soon enough. She smiled again at Saavar, who had seated himself behind the conference table, and was there to provide encouragement and counsel when needed. Lyrr wasn't anything close to a qualified diplomat in her mind, so his presence was crucial. T'Kal had volunteered to sit in on the negotiations as well, and had spent much of his time surveying all areas surrounding, and inside the room for possible security vulnerabilities. He was meticulous, that much she was certain of, and it instilled confidence in her of his ability to protect her if need be. Still, Lyrr felt just slightly uneasy.

The Farehn'ti were keen on mindgames, that much was obvious during her meeting with them the previous night, and it made them that much more dangerous. If one's enemy is always smiling, it becomes difficult to anticipate when they're going to strike. But Lyrr was determined to be ready for it.

Saavar remained impassive. Utilizing the typical Vulcan emotionless expression served well in diplomatic terms. It neither gave away important information in terms of reaction, nor did it aid either of the two delegations. He was restful. The night had been 'difficult,' with Xayella Tagliesh's memories and emotions churning through his mind and the knowledge that the Ryuck delegation held an assassin who was actively sabotaging the talks. He sat with hands clasped before him on his lap, this morning wearing Vulcan robes instead of a Starfleet uniform. It was a ploy. Neither the Ryuck nor the Opai would guess the significance, however the absence of a uniform after being a part of the talks for the last few days would cause them to ponder whether Saavar himself was a proper diplomat that had been witnessing the discussions without taking part. If Commander Lyrr needed his assistance he would better be able to give it.

Benedict T'Kal had been up since 0500. Security teams from Gamma watch had combed the conference area and secured it against intrusion or threat. He had cancelled shore leave for the security department. The Sulu now had its full compliment of officers, minus two available if he needed them. There had been few complaints. The rumour mill was just as effective on the Sulu as it was on any other Starfleet ship. They all knew the score and they all wanted to get even with the one who had attempted to take the life of the captain.

He had doubled security on the ground and had a standing watch ready to beam down. The armament of the ground team was standard, he didn't want to raise suspicion with the delegation, but the away team on the Sulu was armed to the teeth. Benedict himself carried a few concealed surprises. He finished his initial security check and re-entered the conference room. He noted with satisfaction that his teams were alert and they knew a little more about their new boss now. He wasn't a slouch. He covered the bases and then some, and he didn't tolerate lax behaviour on duty. He was a professional and he expected them to be also.

He nodded to Lyrr Tayla as he came to stand inside the room. He took up a position directly behind her and cast his eyes over the two delegations who were already squabbling intermittently in preparation for the real arguments of the day. His eyes found Viata. Benedict's demeanour was hard, his expression inscrutable, but his eyes locked with hers for a moment and he gave a hint of a smile. The kind of smile that said, 'I know you....'

Lyrr took in one last deep breath then set down the datapad she'd been studying. Wearing a smile that was as pleasant a one as Lyrr could muster under the circumstances, she rose and gave a call for attention. The Ryuck were proving attentive that day, and immediately came to silence. The Opai continued bickering, but realizing their attempts at goading the Ryuck into an argument were futile, they too went quiet.

"We have much to cover today," Lyrr began. Her voice was steady and its tone strong. It was the only way to demand and hold their attention. "Now, before we begin, you all know Lieutenant Saavar, but we have with us today, as well, Lieutenant T'Kal." She gestured to him with one hand. "He will be taking up the role Lt. Tagliesh held and will be observing." She waited for any objections, then inclined her head and took her seat as she was greeted with only murmured agreement.

After taking up her padd again and scrolling briefly through it, Lyrr set it down again and regarded the factions. "The first topic on the agenda is the matter of defining Farehn'ti territory. Now, we realize the Ryuck have one figure, and the Opai another, but the trouble seems to lie in the fact that you have divided that territory amongst each of your factions. We must now combine them."

"Combine them?" Lo'ril of the Ryuck said, eyes wide. "They've been...been separate for so long." He smiled at Lyrr, then nodded. "But of course, you're right. How could we ever be a part of the Federation while still harbouring so many grudges amongst ourselves. It will be difficult, as all change is, but we will change and adapt, as we must."

"Combining them will change nothing," Alos of the Opai interjected. "They will still claim ownership over part of Farehn'ti space as they always have. They will still restrict our access!"

Lo'ril shook his head. "If we are to do this thing, then we must do it. That means if we are to combine our territories, then we combine them. We cannot do it halfway, no matter how much our instincts demand we do."

"Which means you must both dissolve any deeds stating your claim on a portion of Farehn'ti space in order to abnegate it," Lyrr told them. "We will then decide the true extents of your planet's ownership. Since it is relatively unoccupied space, there will be plenty of room for everyone, believe me."

Alos pressed his lips thin, holding back a protest, then curtly nodded. Lyrr smiled. "Good." She tapped on the console embedded to her right in the table and called up a starchart of the Farehn'ti's system. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Lo'ril said. "By all means." He looked at his people, the Ryuck, and gave them a cautioning look. "Let us begin."

Lyrr acknowledged and tapped a command into the console. Overlaying the map was a red border surrounding Farehn and a portion of space around it. "That is Farehn'ti territory as it stands," Lyrr announced. "The Federation does not dispute this."

Alos nodded, satisfied, but Lyrr again spoke and he stilled himself to listen. "This area has proven troubling, however." A section of the charts was enlarged and a series of coordinates displayed beneath the spherical stellar body at the center. "This is Farehn's moon, as you well know. This has proven troublesome, for although you will no longer have separate territories for each faction, this lies within the Ryuck border. The Federation is here to facilitate longstanding peace among your people, and to hopefully welcome you as members of our Federation of planets, however it is not our place or wish to interfere with the economy or any other potentially contentious aspects of your planet's internal affairs. And considering this moon has been claimed by the Ryuck, as they have insisted upon including it as part of their territory, we wish to know if there is any reason turning over ownership of it to all of Farehn will cause a dispute."

"Of course it will cause dispute," Lo'ril said with a laugh. "We wouldn't be Farehn'ti if we didn't dispute everything. We will of course turn over all territory to all Farehn, for the good of our relationship with the Federation." At his side, his aide gaped. "Of course, I trust the Opai will do the same, especially with the particular band of croplands near the moon's equator."

Alos' aide leaned over and whispered frantically into his ear, but Alos waved him away and smiled serenely at Lo'ril. "If it will mean our croplands will thrive with the aid of your people, then by all means...."

"Thrive?" Imen of the Opai echoed incredulously. "They've been poisoning our soils for years with their toxic runoff."

Alos silenced him with a quelling glare.

Lyrr frowned. "Toxins? From what?"

"It is merely a matter of perception," Lo'ril said. "One man's toxin keeps the other man's crops alive. I assure you that which we use on our crops has been verified and approved by the global safety board."

Imen's eyes grew wide. "Crops--" Alos raised a hand to silence the man. "We are agreed on the matter," he reiterated, and held Lo'ril's gaze for a brief moment to assure the faction leader that he would not divulge their secret.

Lo'ril gave a terse nod to the Opai and turned back to Commander Lyrr. "We will fully cooperate in any matter the Federation believes will improve our way of life. We don't wish you to believe us defiant or unruly, I assure you."

Lyrr nodded slowly, and furtively glanced at T'Kal and Saavar. There was more to their moon than they were letting on, but pressing the matter would likely get her nowhere. She decided to proceed to the next matter at hand.

Saavar leaned across to speak softly to her. He made sure that the delegations could not see his lips moving. "There has been significant conflict waged on Farehn regarding the ownership of the resources on the lunar body. It has been the cause of two major conflicts resulting in many civilian and military losses. It is suspicious that both parties have reached a concession here. Obviously they do not wish to open a discussion on this point in this forum. It is significant, Commander."

T'Kal could hear the science officer's words and they made sense. The arguments had been stamped out ruthlessly by both party leaders - they were in collusion. He could see the looks they traded. Very different to the worried expressions of their respective aides. He kept his silence however. Viata was watching the proceedings also.

Lyrr nodded slowly, then quickly tapped a brief message to Saavar's padd, reading: "Shall I press them on the matter?"

He glanced down at it and followed suit. "No," he typed quickly. "This is moving the discussion to a rapid resolution, perhaps you might press with the other issues and commend them highly for putting aside their differences. At this pace the talks will finish quickly. This is what we want to catch the assassin." He traded a meaningful look at the First Officer of the Sulu and sat back, turning his emotionless visage upon the delegates.

Lyrr cleared the data on her screen and set the padd aside. He was asking her to place herself directly in the line of danger by provoking the Ryuck into further sabotaging the negotiations...even if it meant attempting her assassination. She sighed. She couldn't remember where it stated performing one's duty to one's ship involved becoming a target for a league of assassins. But it was her duty nonetheless. "Alright," she finally announced, "next topic on the agenda." She smiled at them all. "I have a feeling we're going to be making great progress today."

She couldn't tell for certain, but the room seemed to fill with an air of displeasure. According to Saavar, it seemed progress was the very last thing on their minds.

***

"So, we're agreed then." Lyrr glanced to either side, regarding each of the factions. "The Ryuck will concede one seat on the Farehn'ti planetary council to the Opai. That ensures that both factions will share an equal voice in the government. Correct?"

"That is correct," Lo'ril answered. "And, our representatives to the Federation will also include equal representatives. In time, perhaps even Opai and Ryuck will disappear and we can be united as one, single Farehn'ti people with no factions and no divisions."

Alos smiled from the other end of the table, though it was difficult to ascertain whether it really was a smile, or a mild sneer. "One day, perhaps...."

"It's settled then," Lyrr announced, then entered the information into her padd. "And that..." she said slowly as she typed, "is that." She smiled and set down the device. "I believe we have covered enough for one day. And if I may say, both your factions have accomplished much today. I think at this rate, we could be welcoming you to the Federation within a week's time. I hope tomorrow's negotiations are as successful as today's were." Lyrr inclined her head at each faction leader. "Meeting adjourned."

"Thank you, Commander," Lo'ril said with a bright smile as his aides began putting away his papers. "I must commend you on your skill at navigating this meeting. Would it be too forward of me to say that yours and Captain Salinger's talent for this sort of affair are most remarkable. Should your vessel ever encounter unknown species out in the great beyond, your skills at negotiating will be well-served, and I daresay the Federation is in good hands."

Lyrr chuckled demurely. "Thank you, Minister. I'm glad I am succeeding in progressing these talks. As long as I am mediating, you can rest assured that there will be no further delays."

"That is a great comfort," Alos replied, and rose with the rest of his delegation. "Until tomorrow then."

"Until then," Lyrr concurred and joined Alos in rising. "If any member of your factions wishes to discuss anything urgent or otherwise with me before our next meeting, I have taken up lodgings on the planet so that I may be more accessible to you. Feel free to contact me at any time."

Alos grinned a wide toothy grin at Lyrr. "I'll have someone bring a care package around to you, Commander," he said. "The Farehn'ti will extend the same hospitality to you as we did Captain Salinger. You have no allergies, Commander? Fruits, vegetables or cheeses?"

Lyrr smiled to conceal her suspicion. "No...nothing at all. But that really won't be necessary, minister. I'm here to ensure your people have a fair shot at Federation membership. It's an honour."

"And, the package is a kindness, Commander. But, if you don't wish to accept our gift for you, I will understand. The Opai have nothing more today. Thank you, Commander Lyrr. I look forward to tomorrow's achievements."

"As do I." She watched the Opai faction depart, and after exchanging smiles with them, the Ryuck followed. When the doors closed behind both factions, Lyrr sank back in her chair and sighed. "That was...interesting."

Benedict nodded thoughtfully. "It will happen tonight," he said. "I'll make the arrangements. Don't worry, you'll be safe. I'm going to be with you." His voice indicated that he was looking forward to the prospect. He couldn't help thinking of his dream of the other night. Something was nagging at his subconscious.

"You can't very well...be with me," Lyrr said with an uncomfortable shift in her seat. "If they know someone is with me, it won't work. Besides, I'm not a threat yet. Although we got through much of today's schedule, we still haven't covered a lot of ground."

Benedict gave her a predatory grin. "They won't know I'm there. Trust me." Benedict at one time had been a member of the Maquis. One of the reasons that the Maquis were so successful in raiding Federation storage areas for supplies was that they had their own sensor inhibitors. Two could play at that game. "I think that you are a threat. They think so. The Opai gave the Ryuck a reason to think so."

Saavar nodded agreement. "I believe the Lieutenant to be correct, Commander." He sat composed at the meeting table and folded his hands on its polished surface. "There was a great deal of consternation in regard to the lunar resource rights by both delegations, however the leadership put aside all of their differences and prior conflicts so that the topic was not openly discussed here. Perhaps the alleged involvement of the Cardassian Union has something to do with this?"

"Something on that moon the Cardassians are interested in and have been promised by the Farehn'ti?" Lyrr ventured.

Saavar considered that. "Possible," he said. "Although we cannot know for certain, it would be a logical assumption."

"If it is," Lyrr replied, "then the Opai are protecting the Ryuck, which could mean they may have knowledge of the assassination and Matt's attack. Or," she added, "they could be in on it."

"If they are protecting the Ryuck," Saavar said, "I believe it would be something that concerned the race as a whole. I do not think that they would collude with the Ryuck to assassinate the Federation delegates in order to sabotage talks that they themselves initiated. If both parties wished to retreat from this treaty, all they have to do is indicate so. No I do not believe the Opai are a part of the assassinations, but they certainly did support the Ryuck on the resource matter. I believe that it holds significance to the Farehn'ti - not just one faction."

Lyrr sighed and retrieved her padd from the table. "Whatever the case may be, I'm certain we'll find all the answers we need once we apprehend the perpetrators. Which means I should be proceeding to my lodgings now and...waiting, I guess."

"Not yet," Benedict said. "I have some preparations to make. It would be best if you went back to Sulu until I'm ready. Find an excuse to contact the Ryuck leader when you get aboard so that he knows where you are and that you intend on being there for a few hours before coming back down. I'll beam up with you, do what I have to do, then come down before you. If I didn't make a security sweep of your new quarters it would be suspicious."

Lyrr sighed wearily. "So...wherever you go, I must go as well, and vice versa?" She smiled tightly and started for the door. "This is why I hate diplomacy," she muttered.

Benedict gave her a long look as she turned away. "It's really up to you, Commander, but I'd rather that you lived through the cloak and dagger diplomatic tactics that are being employed here, and as your safety is my prime responsibility you'll have to put up with my company. You'll have plenty of time to be on your own when this is over." He grinned.

Lyrr shook her head in disbelief and waved for Benedict to follow. For all the trouble she was going through, she hoped the Farehn'ti did try to murder her that night.

---

"Before and After"
Ensign Vincent Chan - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.10 08h01

***

Vincent brushed his hands gently against his uniform. A nervous sweat had collected on them, which annoyed him. There wasn't any reason to be nervous. Vincent, very carefully, filled a glass beaker with a light, white powder. Glancing around, he took out a bottle filled with a thick clear solution and poured it onto the powder, which, almost instantly bubbled and spewed a frothy white solution all over Vincent's workbench. Vincent let out a shout of joy; mixing bicarbonate soda with vinegar had always been a favorite pastime of his since he was a kid.

All around him, in Lab 3 of the USS Sulu's science department, science officers and technicians all raised their heads, thinking something was happening. Upon seeing that all Vincent had done was to reproduce an immature, childish science experiment, they all glared at him angrily before turning back to their work. Vincent smiled sheepishly, a smiled he had had since he was a kid, and went about cleaning up the mess. He knew the little experiment had been a waste of time, but Vincent just couldn't settle down anywhere without performing it, and so it had always been the first thing he did when he came to any new lab; and the Sulu was very new to him indeed.

Vincent had only been on the Sulu for a few days now and had so far, in his own mind anyway, done a fairly good job of settling in. He hadn't talked to a lot of people onboard because, although he was quite social, he had a bit of shyness in him, and didn't want to make a complete fool of himself in the first week. He would of course, open up a bit later on, so as he could have friends to play practical jokes on. He loved practical jokes, but thought it wiser to settle down before playing any.

Vincent needed people his own age around him, and though he himself was 24, he had a streak of immaturity in him. He could adapt to being more adult-like, but he found this boring and quite humorless. He convinced himself it was the need to settle down and to have something to cement him onboard that drove his need for friends, not desperation and loneliness. But he was desperate. He was desperate to play his practical jokes, and without anyone to play them on he was crumbling. His practical jokes had always been an outlet for stress, and without them he found himself taking to the synthe-alcohol a bit too much. That didn't worry him, it was a temporary thing, he hoped. Maybe he could play a practical joke on Stencil in the bar.

Vincent had only met a couple of people so far, mostly his direct superiors and those who worked with him on Alpha shift, but they were all higher ranked than he was and, considering himself the newbie, Vincent decided against becoming friends with them yet. Despite all this Vincent was quite happy with his current position. He had been assigned to Alpha shift (thank god), which to him was much better than Beta, although he would be happy just as long as he wasn't stuck in Gamma, which he considered to a backwater position. Vincent was grateful for the appointments he was getting.

Sure he might still be the new kid on the block, but given some time he was sure that it would be a thing of the past. He had the new kid before and it had always turned out fine afterwards. He still liked a drink every now and then, but apart from that he was settling down nicely into the Sulu and was beginning to like it there.

Vincent finished cleaning up the mess and smiling to himself, began to work on what he was meant to be doing. Of course Vincent was a bit casual, but he certainty wasn't lazy or slack.

---

"Aquatic Getaway"
By: Ensign Raina Derrell

Location: Thrakar Point Beach, Risa
Stardate: 57907.10, 08h30

***

Raina had enlisted the assistance of one of the local dive masters. Thrakar Point Beach was a secluded, absolutely gorgeous spot for diving. Mostly known only to the locals, except for a stray tourist here or there that wanted something other than a highly commercialized venture. As she made her way towards the beach with her dive gear, there was no mistaking the smile in her expression.

"Good morning," Raina commented to the good looking, dark haired Risian.

Tzarr smiled. "Beautiful day for a dive. Glad you agreed to join me Raina."

"I've never been the type to turn down such an enticing invitation. Besides I can't think of a better way to spend the first day of my leave," she added. While she had been here for a few days already Sulu wasn't scheduled to leave immediately from Risa. Even though Raina was only officially reporting into her new department head tomorrow.

Of course that was the last thing on her mind as she set up her dive gear. This was one of those rare times that work wasn't foremost on her mind. But then was there ever a really a time that the Starfleet medical officer forgot about it totally?

Part of Raina had to wonder what Tzarr really had in mind, since it was just the two of them. Risa was a very open society. More than once in the past couple of days she had been asked if she was seeking jamaharon.

***4-1/2 Hours Later***

The cool, crystal waters of a Risian ocean enveloped Raina as she took a last look around her. It was beautiful, tranquil, utterly unspoiled. As much as Raina wanted it to last, she knew that all good things had to end. This was her second dive of the day and it was time to return to the real world.

Raina broke the surface of the water in enough time to make it back through the surf when she left the ocean. Carefully she swam the rest of the way there to the shore. In comparison to some other places she had dived this one had very gentle surf. Her dive partner for that day was right beside her then assisted her with removing her gear once they were safely on the beach.

"You know you look very appealing like that," Tzarr commented with a sly smile.

She shook her head. "Give it up, Tzarr I'm not interested. Thanks for the compliment though." Briefly Raina returned his smile as she worked to rinse off and break down her gear. "Since we have some time I think I'm going to just lay here in the sun for a bit."

Tzarr nodded. "Consider it part of my professional services for the day. I'm a licensed massage therapist. Let me unknot your muscles. After that dive and your hectic schedule you could benefit from it."

"I'm reporting to a new assignment how am I supposed to relax," Raina commented quietly.

He gave her that charming smile of his. "Leave it to me. As I said consider it part of my professional services. You'll feel more centered and at ease when you report in."

After the reports Raina had heard coming from the Sulu, their trip to Risa hadn't exactly been too quiet. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had to wonder if Tzarr could ease her mind as well as her tense muscles. Stretching out on her stomach the Ensign decided to find out.

---

"Healing Harmonies"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton

Location: a cottage on Betazed
Stardate: 57907.10, 13h57

***

Cristobel awoke to the alluring sight of Corran Quezith.

Cris always expected to wake up with his Imzadi by his side; what he hadn't grown to expect was waking up alone in bed, looking at Corran's holoimage on the nightstand. Cris hadn't heard from Corran since they'd parted ways in orbit of Betazed the previous morning. He supposed Corran was nearly at Achicar Prime, to be examined and subsequently cured of his puzzling medical condition. The medical condition that had brought Cris to Betazed, the near catatonia of Andraia, had improved. Relatively.

The presence of her parents, Damhnait and Fortu, and brother, Cris, had forced an awareness of reality upon Andraia, and yet an awareness of unreality, and the overwhelming thoughts of countless minds around her, quickly followed that lucidity. Compared to two days ago, Andraia was vastly improved, and yet she seemed less mentally stable than the last time Cristobel had spoken to her in person.

Cristobel considered returning to his nap - sweet blissful dreamless sleep - but the natural sunlight filling his room of his parents' cottage proved to be too intense, even though he uselessly called out, "Computer, dim lights." The sunlight was streaming in through the four windows looking out at the lake, the doorless doorway leading into the rest of the cottage, as well as the dozen little circular windows in the wall that separated his room from the hallway.

Pulling the light burgundy sheet from his naked form, Cristobel sat up, looked around the room for his trysette case, and instructed the replicator to provide him with clothing that would be fashionable in this geographical region during this particular week.

***

Gently tuning each string of his trysette, Cristobel sat on the sand by the water's edge, with only the toes of his bare feet within lapping range of the water. He wore the clothing the replicator had given him: formfitting black trousers, which had a long slit running nearly all the way up the side of the right leg, and a classy, but comfortable, translucent long-sleeved white shirt, which laced only halfway up.

For a time in his adolescence, when telepathy seemed horrifying to him because of his sister's illness, Cristobel had been a strong enthusiast of modern Terran music. Since that brief phase, though, Cris had experienced a strong predilection towards a widely popular style of Betazoid music that was lyricless and was all about melody, rhythm, non-verbal vocal sounds and emotional projection. Regardless of his preference, ever since Cristobel had toyed with joining the Terran-styled Suluists, the melodies that Cristobel's subconscious invented had been joined by verbal lyrics.

During his extensive meditations on the Sulu, recently, Cristobel had hoped to find the words, or even lyrics, to explain his contorted emotional state, but his feelings had been too big and undefined. There were no words in all of existence that were precise enough to explain how he felt. The last time he attempted it, though, he found it easier to put together words and musical notes about older pains. With months and years of consideration, he could recall situations as a whole, and could look on them with his typical sense of ironic detachment. He had been spending all of his time on the Sulu hurting in frustration and despair; what he really needed now was simply to laugh at some of his old pains. It would help him believe that current hardships would eventually be laughable.

Cristobel looked from side to side and across the shore until he was satisfied that he was alone. As much as he loved to sing, he had little desire for performing, and while the content of his first lyric-ful song was by no means autobiographical, it contained more personal aspects than one might expect. He played through the chorus a couple of times, and once he was sure he had it right, he began to softly sing the song he called Alt-U Twin.

"I'm sorry if you think that I was crude / That I licked your best friend's neck / That groping your ex was lewd / How can I prove I was not in that skin? / Ohh / It was my evil alternate universe twin / It was my evil alternate universe twin"

"I'm sorry that your dear pet dog is dead / I wasn't told to feed it / While you holidayed misled / The one you told does not feel my chagrin / Ohh / It was my evil alternate universe twin / It was my evil alternate universe twin"

"I'm sorry 'bout the time that your throat swelled / That it stole your breath away / When I served you that fish shelled / I know you're allergic - 'Twas not my sin / Ohh / It was my evil alternate universe twin / It was my evil alternate universe twin"

"When word got out that your heart was nearly in my grasp / The sound must have vibrated quantumly / Space-Time tore open, out came distorted mirror kin"

"It was my evil alternate universe twin / Yeah, it was my evil alternate universe twin / It was my evil alternate universe twin / It surely was my oh-so-very e-vil alternative universe twin."

---

"Humble Abode"
By: Ainsley Chambers
and Ai'Pal

Location: Sulu, Chambers' and Ai'Pal's personal quarters
Stardate: 57907.10, 14h15

***

Ai'Pal was meditating in his quarters, when his terminal chimed to alert him of a new message. He thought about ignoring it, but realised that with the skeleton crew still in place, there might be some emergency that needed attention.

The message had been sent by operations, who had made a match with another new crew member - Ainsley Chambers - who Ai'Pal would be required to share with. In small print at the end of the message was notification to vacate his current quarters within 1 hour. This was a most intrusive, but predictable, way of dealing with such a move, but he would comply.

Ai'Pal set out to gather his few possessions.

***

An hour later, Ai'Pal stood outside his new living quarters. He would share with a Human, a thought that interested him, but at the same time made him aware that he should try and get promoted soon. Never the less, he closed his eyes and pressed the door chime, waiting for the call within to permit him to enter.

***

Ainsley looked up from the book that she was reading, with a puzzled expression on her face. She wasn't expecting anyone. She shrugged and called, "Come in!"

As the man entered she got to her feet. She'd never seen this officer before, she looked him over for a moment. He was obviously Vulcan. "Can I help you?"

The Vulcan looked at the young officer. His face gave away no emotion, but his eyes shone green, almost enchantingly.

"Please excuse my apparent intrusion, Ensign Chambers. My name is Ai'Pal and I received notification to move to these quarters. I would assume that we are sharing this room, although it is apparent that you have not received the same notification.

"Please accept my apologies. I will seek out other arrangements for the current time, until a point where it is convenient to return..."

Ainsley put her hand up to stop him before he could leave. "Oh no, please don't leave." She hadn't heard that she was getting a roommate but that didn't mean that she had to be rude. "The other bedroom is completely empty, no reason why you can't move in right away."

There was a pause before Ai'Pal spoke. He remained emotionless throughout. "Thank you, Ensign Chambers. I appreciate your consideration. May I enter now?"

Ainsley nodded. "Sure!" She then did a quick survey of the common living area that they would be sharing. She never considered herself a messy person but she could only imagine how it looked in the Vulcan's eyes. There were 5 or 6 books in a sloppy pile on the living room table and a couple drinking glasses sitting around. To her horror she had even left a bra on the back of the couch earlier. She snatched it up and felt her face burn red.

Ai'Pal entered the room. The quarters were much the same as he was living in before, with the exception that he now had half the amount of space. The common area was in an adequate condition, although he had the feeling that the Human was somewhat embarrassed by the current state of the room. He made a note to speak to Lieutenant Saavar, to discuss the possibility of promotion.

"If you will excuse me, I will move my possessions out of the corridor."

The Vulcan had only a few possessions, which he carried into the spare room. There was a general sound of objects being moved as Ai'Pal shifted furniture to make room for mediation and rest. About half an hour later, Ai'Pal returned back to the shared area and waited patiently for Ainsley to acknowledge his presence.

Ainsley was sitting at the computer console, going through her mail. Since Ai'Pal had arrived she had found the message from ops informing her that she would be receiving a roommate. Not for the first time she chided herself for not keeping up with her mail a little more.

Suddenly she could feel someone's eyes on her and she turned to see her new roommate standing a few feet away. "Hi!" she said.

"I would like to know if you would care to...umm. 'Break some ice?' It is probably better to know something about each other if we are going to be living in the same area."

"That would be nice," Ainsley said, turning off the console and getting to her feet. "Want something to drink? Then we can sit and 'break some ice.' " She laughed at the wording.

"Some spring water would be acceptable, thank you, Ensign. Tell me, were you able to take shore leave on Risa?"

"Yes, I've gotten down to the planet a couple times," Ainsley responded as she made her way over to the replicator. She got Ai'Pal some water and replicated herself some lemonade. "It's been nice and relaxing," she added as she handed him some water and sat down on the couch.

"As you have probably guessed, I am from Vulcan. I keep the traditions of our people by upholding the disciplines of Kholinar. I am also a scientist, which I appear to use more socially than I do on duty."

If Ai'Pal was human, he would probably have laughed, or at least tried to get a laugh from Ainsley. Ai'Pal - as he had clearly stated, was Vulcan.

"What is your role on the Sulu, Ensign Chambers?"

"I am a counselor," she responded as she took a sip of her lemonade. She smiled at him. "You say you use science more socially than on duty? What do you mean?"

Ai'Pal raised an eyebrow. Had he stumbled across her counselling couch already or was it difficult for the Ensign to break the patterns of her professional career? "I often find myself studying those around me. It is interesting how emotive beings allow their feelings to interfere with their daily functions. As a counselor, do you find yourself asking your patients how they are meeting their objectives how they are succeeding in their lives, or do you find yourself battling to find deep rooted fears, or other such inefficiencies?"

"Well that really depends on the patient. Different people have different needs," Ainsley responded pleasantly. "It's my job to help people get their emotional needs met, whatever they may be."

Ai'Pal sat for a moment then responded.

"You have a valid point. If I were capable of feeling emotions, I would still not envy your position. A recent study showed that not all counselled patients respond to counselling questions in an effective manner. Do you not find it frustrating dealing with people who clearly require assistance but do not wish to cooperate?"

"It can get very frustrating, but that makes it all the more enjoyable and rewarding when you do have a breakthrough." Ainsley sat there, deep in thought for a moment. "Unfortunately, too often there are the ones that you can't make any progress with at all. Those are the ones that you basically have to write off...after you've tried everything you can that is."

"I am sorry, I do not wish to burden you with such heavy questions. I was simply...curious. The use of emotions is an interesting phenomenon, which I will get over in time. I would like to speak more of this subject, but should not weigh you down with it tonight, for we have only just met."

Ainsley nodded. "I would like that very much." It looked like it was going to be very interesting to have a Vulcan roommate. She'd never really gotten to know a Vulcan before - all the ones that she'd known in the Academy all seemed snotty and stuck up, like they thought they were above everyone else at the school. "If we're going to be rooming together we should definitely get to know each other."

"Do you play chess?"

"I've never gotten the opportunity to learn," Ainsley admitted. To be honest she'd always been too busy jumping out of planes and stuff.

"Then if you wish, I shall teach you. My knowledge is limited but I know enough to play an 'entertaining' game."

"I would like that, thank you!"

"Then maybe the next time we are in this situation. I will teach you to play.

"If you will excuse me, Ensign Chambers, I must meditate before I begin my cycle of rest. You may feel free to join me at any time. I can help you free yourself of the pain that others give you."

"Thank you. I might take you up on that as well," she responded with a nod of her head. She'd tried meditating on her own and had never really gotten the hang of it.

"Very good. May you receive an appropriate amount of rest." And with that the Vulcan turned and returned to his room. He sat in the middle of the room and lit two candles, one for himself and another for his new colleague. It was not uncommon for a Vulcan to do this, as he knew that they would no doubt form some sort of friendly bond over time. Ainsley Chambers was a well balanced individual, who obviously did well to control her emotions.

This room assignment would not be as challenging as he had first imagined.

---

"Perfect Relationships, Part 1"
By: Ensign Tchalla Mel'Chir
Ensign Kit Markham
Ensign Kelzira Rax
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Risa
Stardate 57907.10, 15h40

***

Deft hands slid over Amy's eyes. She'd approached from behind, silently so as to not alert her friend she was there. She fought back the giggles that wanted to bubble up. It seemed like forever since they'd been able to spend any time together, and since she had nothing to do at the moment (since Lt. Tagliesh didn't trust her to work on something as important as analyzing the weapons), she sought out Amy. "Guess who," she whispered softly.

Amy's fingers brushed over the smooth, slender hands and her nose recognized the soft, floral scent coming off the body pressed against her back. Amy sighed with a mixture of contentment and anxiety. "Kelli," she murmured, and turned as the hands slid away from her eyes. She was to keep her distance from Kelli to save what she and Kit had, but she couldn't resist slipping her arms around her friend and embracing her. "Hi," she whispered.

Kelzira returned Amy's hug happily, always finding comfort in her friend's arms. "I've missed you," she whispered. "We haven't had much time together since the party. How are you? Oh, I see someone's been working on her tan. I must say, my dear, I do approve."

Amy held out both arms and appraised the light golden colour the sun had tinted her. "It is pretty nice, isn't it?" She giggled and shifted closer to her friend. "So what have you been up to? Sampling the pleasures of Risa?"

"Some of Risa, some of Sulu," Kelli answered with a wicked grin. "They have this one house down there that's pretty wild...all sorts of drinks and people and...it's just wild. And, Crewman Lucas is quite dreamy...and for a security guy he is very talented, if you know what I mean."

Amy snickered and playfully slapped Kelli's knee. "Careful or they'll be starting rumours about you."

Kelli giggled. "Well, I can't let you steal all the rumour limelight, can I? I don't mind though. I'm having fun and so are they. You know Lt. Flummux? He nearly passed out when I smiled at him. His friend Chief Riley, he smiled back at me. Haven't talked to him yet, but I think he wants to have drinks with me...though, I could be wrong. You wanna go down for some sunning? I know a great place."

Amy smiled warily at Kel. "Oh yeah? Where?"

"Remember where you had the party? There's a little spot just across that bay. It gets great sun, the sand is beautiful and the water is perfect. Also, without so many people there, it's really peaceful. So...interested?"

"Peaceful...." That alone had Amy uptight. "I-I dunno, Kel.... I think Kit's coming back soon and I shouldn't go too far." She grinned. "But you can stay here and we can just talk."

Kelli nodded. "Sure," she said. She waved over one of the cute guys in little blue shirts that served drinks on the beach and ordered two fruit juices. "So, how are things going for you and your Kitty Cat? The two of you look so happy and in love."

Amy smiled fondly. "That's because we are. We've been working things out and I really think we're gonna make it this time."

"That's great news! You guys deserve to be happy together. Whenever I see the two of you together, it makes me so happy. Seeing you on stage, and then off...it's perfect, Amy. I really do hope you guys make it."

She covered her friend's hand with her own, then kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Kel," she said softly. "It means a lot to us. We've even started writing songs together and planning on performing them during our next show. You coming?"

"Of course I'm coming," Kelli said. "Do you think your biggest fan would ever miss out on a show? Heck no, Amy. You'd have to hire a security team to keep me away."

Amy grinned and embraced her friend again briefly. As they parted, the attendant arrived with their drinks, served in rotund, curvaceous glasses that each had a floating, indigo flower on the liquid's surface. Amy accepted hers with a gracious smile, and handed Kelli hers. She sucked on the straw thirstily, then sighed once the sweet juice went down. "I wonder what fruit this is made from. Maybe you and I can buy a plant and add it to the arboretum." She giggled. "We can call it...Kelmy! You know...Kelli....Amy...."

"I think it's perfect! I bet they have Kelmy trees all over the place here, and the fruit is the perfect combination of sweet and tart, and you never get tired of it...and it's always in season."

"Then that's what we'll do!" Amy announced. "You and I will go shopping and pick one up."

"Shopping with you has to be one of my favourite activities," Kel said. "Oh, I have to get an outfit like the one Tchalla had at the party. That dress was amazing, wasn't it?"

Amy smiled tightly. She remembered clearly that night. It was when she realized Kelli was getting too far out of hand. "It was a lovely dress and she looked great in it. Though...you made her really nervous, Kel. You...you shouldn't have done those things to her."

"She's so beautiful though," Kelli said. "I mean, that hair and those eyes. Did you actually look into her eyes? And, oh gods, Amy, her body is... If she hadn't been so scared... She was...I felt bad for making her nervous and scared, but she's so beautiful. She's blue all over too."

"Well there are a lot of beautiful people out there," Amy told her. "Just...just leave Tchi alone. Please? She's shy and...I don't want you to do anything that'll scare her off."

"Amy, why can't I be attracted to the person I want to be attracted to. I think the decision should be Tchalla's. Don't worry; I'll go slow with her. I won't force her to do anything she isn't comfortable with. I promise."

Amy laughed incredulously. "But you did, Kel! You stole her underpants. When I spoke to her, it didn't sound like she was very comfortable with that."

"That was then," Kelzira answered. "This is different now, Amy. I've gotten to know her, and I want to get to know her better. I know she's really shy, and I'll scare her away if I come on too strong. But...but I won't steel her underpants anymore."

Amy nodded slowly. "And you won't push her until she's ready?"

"Not until she's ready," Kelli answered. "If I push too much...she'll run, and...and I wouldn't want to do that to her."

"Really?" Amy smiled knowingly at her friend and gently nudged her arm with one elbow. "You like her, don't you. A lot?"

"I do," Kelzira said with a smile. "She's so sweet and cute and...and innocent." She sighed and brushed a hand along Amy's arm. "And, she's so blue. I never thought I'd find myself so attracted to someone so blue, but I am. I'm probably silly, but...but I can't help it."

Amy giggled. "Not silly. Just infatuated. You should ask her out, and promise you won't touch her underwear."

"Only if she asks me to," Kelli said with a grin. "Maybe...maybe you and Kit could come with us. We could make it a double-date. We could go to a show then dinner, and maybe...something after that. I don't know what, but we can think of something."

"Of course," Amy told her, relieved that Kelli was prepared to move on already. "I'll even help bring her around to the idea if you want."

Kelzira leaned forward and kissed Amy's forehead. "Thank you," she whispered. "That means so much to me. We...we can't be together anymore, can we? I'm...I'm going to miss us... We were really good, weren't we?"

Amy grinned as she brushed the back of her hand against Kelli's cheek. "We were. We had fun, Kel, and we still can. Just...not that way anymore. If we do...I'll lose Kit."

"As much as I want to be with you, I know how much he means to you," Kelzira said. "I won't ruin that for you, Amy. And, besides, I don't think Tchalla would appreciate having a slut for a girlfriend."

Amy snickered. "Neither does Kit!" Still laughing, she pulled Kelli into a warm embrace. At least she was certain she'd never lose her.

"I like being able to be with whomever I feel like, but...but I guess not everyone likes that. It's more important to have them with us, than driving them away by making them feel like they're less important. We'll make this work, Amy, all of us. Me and Tchalla and you and Kit. We'll make it work."

"And I'll still love you through it all, my Kelli." She chuckled. "We are naming a plant after us, after all. So it has to be love!"

Kelzira grinned. "Definitely love," she said. "Oh, hey, isn't that her over there? Oh god, Amy! What do I do?"

Amy glanced over her shoulder at the blue-skinned girl walking along the edge of the ocean, and hopping out of the way just as the waves rolled in again. She smiled at Kel. "Call her over. Come on! I'll be here with you."

Kelli nodded and stood up. "Tchalla!" she called.

The Andorian girl turned, looking around. When she saw Kelzira she hesitated, then she saw Amy and smiled. She grinned brightly at both of them and then strode over. "Hi, Kelzira, hi, Amy. It's a beautiful day, isn't it? How are you?"

"Just fine," Amy replied cheerfully, then shifted over on the blanket to make room for Tchi. "Have a seat. We were just drinking some fruit juice and talking." She grinned slyly at the girl. "About you, mostly."

Tchi glanced between them. "About me?" She swallowed nervously and adjusted her bikini top. "I was just...working on my... About me?"

Kelzira smiled and then nodded. "About you," she said. "We were talking about how we both like you and...and we think you're a really nice person."

Amy nodded in ready agreement. "And how we really like the colour blue." She glanced conspiratorially at Kel. "And how one of us would really like it if you'd go out to dinner with them one day soon."

Tchalla blinked.

"We wouldn't have to do anything you didn't want to, Tchalla, but...but I like you a lot, and...and I...I was wondering if you wanted...wanted to go on a date."

"I...I don't...would I have to get naked?"

Kelli grinned. "No," she said. "You wouldn't. It...it'd just be me and you, on a date. Would...would you like to go out on a date with me, Tchalla?"

Tchalla blushed and looked at Amy, then back to Kelzira. "I think I would like that...I've never been on a date before, but...but I think I would like to go on one with you, Kelzira.

"Really?" Kelzira asked, her face showing her shock. "That would be...that will be very nice."

Amy could do nothing to stifle an excited giggle as she threw her arms around both Kel and Tchalla. "This'll be great! You two are gonna make the perfect couple, I know it. Does tonight sound good?"

Kelzira looked to Tchalla, who was still wide-eyed. The young Andorian finally smiled and nodded. "I would like that very much," she said. "But, I'll need to shop for clothing. I've...I've never been on a date before."

"We'll all go together," Kelli said. She reached out and brushed her hand across Tchi's, and Tchi's blue hand closed around Kelli's. "It'll be perfect. Me and you, and Amy and Kit. It'll be the best ever."

"And you don't have to be nervous," Amy added, "because you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just think of it as making a new friend."

Tchalla looked down at her hand, joined with Kelzira's, then smiled. "It'll be fun," she said. "And...and I can wear underwear if I want?" she added with a deep blush.

Amy smiled warmly. "Yes...you can. And I imagine Kelli will be too." She regarded her friend pointedly. "Right?"

Kelli pursed her lips and frowned. "We'll all be wearing underwear," she said, then returned Amy's pointed look with one of her own. "All of us."

Amy's mouth opened wide in protest, but she instead sighed and pouted. "Fine. All of us." Then she giggled. "Even Kitty."

Tchalla giggled. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she said. "I don't mind. It was...it was just...strange. I...I think I liked it though. That isn't too strange, is it?"

"Believe me," Amy confided, "nothing is more strange than Kelli and I." She set down her drink, then sprang to her feet. After brushing the sand off her legs and shaking her head vigorously to accomplish the same with her hair, Amy held out a hand to the two girls. "Shopping time, ladies. We need to find some especially lewd outfits for tonight," she teased, with a wink to reassure Tchi.

Tchalla was first on her feet as her blue hand slipped into Amy's. Kelzira was only a moment behind as she fell in on the other side of Amy. "Come on," she said. "I think I know just the place, and they're really close."

Amy sighed happily and allowed her friend to lead the way. Breaking up with Kelli had been much easier than she'd expected. Perhaps things were turning around for her after all.

***

"What about this one?" Tchalla asked, holding up a short top. "It has a skirt to go with it, and if I got a pair of sandals, it'd be perfect, don't you think? I've always loved teal and purple together, and...and...I think...I think it goes well with my skin tone."

Amy tapped her chin with one forefinger while appraising Tchi's selection. "Hmm...I believe it does. Go on and try that on while Kelli tries on hers."

Tchalla nodded, and then gathered up both top and skirt and hurried off to the changing booths. Her excitement was clear, from the way her eyes lit up to the way she moved. It was also clear that she was definitely warming up to Kelzira. Any anxiety she'd been feeling seemed to have disappeared.

Amy sighed with pure contentment as she searched through the clothes on the rack. She'd never been so free of anxiety before and realized it was the feeling of everything going right. "Hey, Kel! You done yet? I want to see that dress on you."

"Just about," Kelzira said. Then, after a moment, "Okay, are you ready? Close your eyes, here I come." The door to her stall opened and Kelzira stepped out in her dress. She grinned at Amy. "Well?"

Amy gasped, then bounced excitedly before rushing forward and taking Kel's hands. "It's a perfect fit! Oh...spin! I wanna see the whole thing!"

Kelzira laughed, and did as she was asked. "I'll let you see the whole thing, though there isn't all that much to it. Isn't it great though? It's so beautiful and it fits perfectly!"

"And it'll definitely make Tchi blush," Amy pointed out. The dress' back dipped low, as did the neckline, whereas the skirt's hem fell to Kelli's ankles, covering all, save for the large amount of bare thigh revealed by the long slit running down one side. Amy felt her heart beat faster as she watched Kelli spin. Her breasts fit snugly into the bosom of the dress, but bounced lightly as she moved, as did her rear, which the dress absolutely molded to. Amy's cheeks grew warm and she was forced to look away before she reached out and brushed a hand over Kelli's arm. It was a discouraging moment. "I-It's perfect," she said again, awkwardly. "I wonder how Tchi looks."

A moment later the door to Tchi's stall opened and she stepped out. The top fit snugly, and the bottom was cut in an inverse V that left her navel exposed. One arm was bare and the other was covered in a thin, gossamer fabric. The skirt rode low on her hips and was split on both sides, showing plenty of blue flesh. She smiled at Amy and Kelli. "Well?"

"Oh my God," Amy laughed in complete shock. "Tchi-- What happened!"

Tchalla looked startled as she glanced quickly between Amy and Kelzira --- who was just staring dumbly. "Wha-- What is it? Is it bad? Oh no. Oh, I'll...I'll change back...I'll find anothe--"

Amy grabbed Tchalla's hand and pulled her back before she could get far. "No, Tchi," she told her gently. "There's nothing wrong. You look really great, that's all."

Tchalla looked at Amy, then at Kelzira again. She noticed the look in Kelzira's eyes, and it sent a fluttering sensation through her. She looked down at herself and smiled. "It...I look really good?"

Kelzira stepped forward and slipped her hand into Tchi's once more, and quickly felt Tchalla's hand close around her own. "You look amazing," she said softly. She looked to Amy and nodded slowly, a hopeful smile on her lips.

Amy, in return, felt elation. Kelli would have someone now; it wouldn't feel so much like abandoning her anymore. "Come on." She held a hand out to each of them. "Let's go pay. Then we can plan our dates."

Kelzira glanced at Tchalla and smiled. "You're...you're alright going on a date with me, right?"

Tchalla nodded slowly. "Yes," she said, then smiled. "Yes, I am. Very much. You...you made me nervous the other day, but...but I like you."

"Thank you," Kelli whispered. They took their purchases up to the front, all smiles and bouncing steps. She looked over to Amy and grinned. "You don't think Kit will mind a double-date, do you?

Amy grinned. "Not as long as it doesn't consist of having to share me with two other guys," she quipped.

"Well, he won't have to worry about sharing you," Kelzira said with a wide grin. "Tchalla and I have each other, so for as cute and bubbly as you are, you'll just have to settle for your Kitty toy."

"Yes," Tchalla said, trying to be more bold. "Kit is very cute, but he doesn't have spots." She blushed.

Amy snickered. "He sure doesn't. Kelli has plenty to satisfy anyone's spot fetish." She leaned in towards Tchi and whispered, "They go all the way down, you know."

Tchalla blushed even brighter, and then grinned. "I saw," she whispered back.

Amy made a low sound of approval, then grinned serenely at the woman manning the counter. "We'll take these," Amy told her as Kelli and Tchi deposited their purchases onto the counter. The woman smiled pleasantly and proceeded to ring them up. "So...seafood for dinner?" Amy asked both girls.

"I love seafood," Tchalla said, her antennae twitching with excitement. "It's been so long since I've had any that wasn't replicated."

"Me too," Kelli said. "Oh, we have some of the best seafood on Trill. Maybe, sometime...we could...you know, go there..."

Tchalla grinned and quickly turned her attention to the purchases laid out on the counter.

Kelli brushed a hand along Tchalla's arm, and Tchi slipped her hand into it without hesitation. "I think that means that seafood will be perfect tonight. What about that place down along the harbour? Their food looked so good, and they have that band that plays there. Wouldn't that be perfect, Amy?"

Amy smiled fondly at the affectionate scene being displayed by the two. It gave her comfort to know she hadn't ruined Kelli, even though she had taken away some of her innocence. She sighed, and replied, "It'll be perfect."

The woman behind the counter had finished ringing up their purchases, and then displayed the total for them. "Very attractive selections to be sure. Are you with that Starfleet ship in orbit? Oh, I heard about the captain...so very sad. It's a shame when things like that happen on a place like this."

Amy nodded solemnly. "It is. But I hear he's doing just fine." She handed the woman her debit chip, and smiled back at Tchi and Kelli as she took it. "On me."

"Thank you," Tchalla said. "That's very kind of you, Amy."

Kelli grinned and leaned in to kiss Amy on the cheek. "That's what best friends are for," she said. "Next one's on me."

Amy laughed lightly. "You bet it is! Kit will start wondering where all my credits have gone." The woman handed her back the chip, and Amy took both it and their bags with a grin. After a quick thank-you, the three girls sauntered out of the shop. "Now, you two should run along and get all ready, and I'm gonna go track down Kit, and make those reservations. Sound good?"

"That sounds perfect," Kelzira said. "Come on, Tchi. We can beam back to the ship and change in my quarters. Oh, I have a great hair clip that'll be perfect for you."

Tchi didn't say anything, couldn't around the grin she was wearing.

"See you soon, Amy. We'll meet you at the fountain in about an hour."

She nodded and waved at the two as they departed. "Be good!" she called out to them.

Both Kelli and Tchi waved and waved, and then Kelli suddenly rushed back and flung her arms around Amy. "Oh gods, isn't she great," she rasped. "Oh please please please, Amy, don't let me screw this up. Please don't let me screw this up."

Amy tenderly pushed Kelli's hair back behind her ears, then kissed her friend's forehead. "I won't let you screw this up," she promised. "You deserve to be happy. And if Tchi is your key to that, I'm not letting you ruin your chance." Amy sighed and held Kelli to her securely. "Go back to her," she whispered, then kissed her friend again and pulled back. "You're new potential girlfriend is waiting."

"I have no idea how I'm going to be able to survive with that dress she got," Kelli said as she started backing away. "I'll see you soon. Say 'hi' to Kit for me, and make sure he knows how much you love him." With that, she skipped back to Tchi. The two girls seemed to have really taken to each other, and as Kellia approached, Tchalla actually held her hand out. Then together, hand in hand, they disappeared down the street.

Amy sighed once they were gone, and lazily strolled off in the opposite direction. Letting Kelli go had been easier than she thought it would be, and the Trill woman hadn't seemed one bit upset. It made life much easier for Amy, who would have likely faltered and attempted to console Kelli if she'd showed signs of sorrow. And consoling would have likely led to other things. But Kit would be proud of her.

She had experienced yearning for Kelli in the shop, watching her twirl to showcase her dress, but only succeeding in enticing Amy with the lures of her body. But Amy had resisted, and prevailed. She smiled. She knew it probably wasn't something Kit wished to know, but she had to tell him. He'd be proud of her, and more than anything, Amy needed his respect and approval. And Amy would have it.

---

"Vulcan Analysis"
by Ensign Ai'Pal - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Science Lab 2
Stardate 57907.10 16h00

***

Ai'Pal entered Science lab 2 just moments before the start of Beta shift. He had seen Lt. Tagliesh the previous day who had provided him with adequate work to complete.

However, it was apparent from the condition of the lab, that his work would have to wait for a while. Samples had been left out and experiments lay uncomplete. If he had beamed onto this part of the ship on an away mission, he may have determined that the users of this particular lab had been killed in a firefight during a shift. He realised that this was not the case, but that shore leave offered more excitement than discipline of cleaning up allowed.

It is of no consequence, he thought as he set out to clean the ship's second laboratory. It took one hour to file samples and clean the lab to Federation Standards.

It took a further three hours to reorganise - "Vulcanise" - the laboratory's filing system. Instead of being in Alpha or Numeric order, each sample or piece of equipment was filed according to where it should logically be. In addition, he added a few basic Vulcan commands to the computer. He should work efficiently and what better way?

Although Ai'Pal was incapable of feeling pride, he acknowledged a sense of completion on finishing this task.

There was something still bothering him. During his work, he had allowed his mind to travel back to his encounter with his fellow Vulcan. Saavar had indeed proven to be a wise man but there was something illogical about the way that he had made light of his lack of emotional discipline. One who is trained in the Kholinar Discipline, does not easily break it. What had been most disturbing was that Saavar had mentioned that his emotions were used as an advanced form of comunication with emotive beings. Ai'Pal was not emotive and so Saavar had either made a mistake at displaying emotion or had simply made an excuse. However, an explanation for his illogical behaviour would have to wait for another time.

The soil samples from Dorvali 449 were brought over onto an examination table, where Ai'Pal began his analysis. The examination would be simple. Firstly determine the chemical and biological make up of the soil. Secondly, determine its reaction to temperature and light variances and finally, determine the samples' risk to the crew. This, he thought, is the most logical approach.

On the Vulcan's command the computer created five soil samples from the main specimen and began the experimentation.

During the time required to complete the required work, Ai'Pal sat patiently and watched the samples as they reacted to each scenario. Some time later, the computer gave a small chime to signify that it had finished.

"Computer, relay results."

"In which language would you like to hear the results, Ensign Ai'Pal?"

"Computer, please relay results in Federation Standard."

The sample results proved most interesting. According to his experiments the soil had no distinguishing features. It was simply ordinary soil that by all accounts was healty.

The most interesting part of this sample was what resided with it. The initial scan picked up a single cell organism, living within the soil. At first glance this looked to be nothing, except that on closer inspection, there were at least two organisms per one part of soil. The organisms would react to various simulations, in heat they would multiply, in cold they would shrink in size, presumably to preserve thier existance. Ai'Pal had also proven that as well as feeding on harmful soil agents, they secreted a natural fertiliser thus both soil and organism maintained each other's existance. This indeed was an interesting discovery, and would no doubt contribute to whatever plant life was found on Dorvali 449.

"Computer, file all samples and test results with the files for Dorvali 449. Save report under Ai'Pal - Dorvali 449 soil sample and send to Lt. Tagliesh."

His shift was over and work for the day complete. He fully intended to return to his quarters and meditate.

***

On the crew deck Ai'Pal meditated in his quarters. His day had been long and there was much to mediate on, thus the need for calm and peace was great. He was aware that he was to expect a new room mate, as it was regulation that non-senior officers shared quarters. Maybe in the midst of this chaotic crew, he would share his accomodation with a like minded being, but then he would have to wait and see.

---

"An Unexpected Rendezvous"
By: Ensign Jackson Thompson
Ensign Ainsley Chambers

Location: USS Sulu, Mess hall
Stardate 57907.10 16h30

***

Jackson Thompson walked out of Main Engineering while stifling a yawn. He had gone in early, starting halfway through Gamma shift rather than waiting for his own shift, and worked straight through. It was the same principles he had applied at school and at the Academy. You had to work hard to succeed. There just seemed so much still to learn, all of the classes in the Academy hadn't actually prepared him for the awe inspiring power that you could feel when you were in that room. It was the true heart of the ship, the place that made everything else possible. He grinned, he really was enjoying this.

Thompson rubbed the back of his neck as he walked idly down the corridor, a destination fuzzily in mind though he hadn't yet thought about where he was heading. Instead his head was still swimming with technical schematics, EPS conduits, and everything else that he had spent the last 12 hours absorbing. It wasn't until he was standing inside a turbolift, by himself, and he heard a rumbling that he realized he had forgotten to take a break to eat.

"Food," he mumbled realizing that he was on his way to mess hall. Looked like his stomach had finally just said 'screw this' and taken charge. Good thing, he was hungry.

With Alpha shift ending only 20 minutes before the mess hall was rather crowded, but that didn't deter Jackson as he waited in line for the replicators. He picked up his tray of food and walked through the crowded room, glancing for a place to sit. He was about to sink down with a group from the science department when a familiar face in the corner caught his eye. He walked over, putting on his best smile. "Well hello, Ms. Chambers."

Ainsley was playing with her mashed potatoes and her mind was off in la la land. She was staring out the view port at the planet below and she was going over the appointments she'd had that day with members of the crew. She was grateful for the interruption and looked up with a big smile. "Jackson, please join me!" She indicated the chair across from her. "How are you?"

He gave her an appreciative nod and sat down, giving her a sly smile. "That depends on who's asking? Counselor Chambers or just plain Ainsley?"

"Just plain Ainsley!" she replied with a smile, pushing the last thoughts of work out of her mind. "My day's done, and I'm glad you came over because I was allowing myself to dwell on work."

He shook a finger at her. "Now, Counselor, you should know better than any of us about being able to separate work and your life." He speared a fried sweet potato with his fork and smiled, "You know what they say, all work and no play..."

"Lately it feels like I have been all play and no work!" She shook her head and took a bite of her potatoes. "I've been down on Risa so much that it can't be good for me!"

Jackson shook his head. "Too much of a good thing is a false concept created by miserable people." He took a bite, using the brief pause as an excuse to admire Ainsley before continuing, "Plus, Starfleet gives us shore leave for a reason. You're supposed to have more fun than work."

"You're starting to sound like a counselor!" Ainsley replied with a grin. "What have you been up to since you got here?"

"You know, if you weren't so cute I'd take that as an insult," he said with mock severity. "I've been working, actually. Trying to get familiar with the ship and all."

"How are you liking it?" Ainsley asked, knowing that this was Jackson's first posting. "Your first ship can be a little daunting, I know. This is only my second."

"It is, and there is a lot to learn, but I like it. I really do." He grinned, "It's just... I can't explain it."

She nodded then. "I know. So why'd you join the Academy so late?"

Jackson paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Has someone been checking up on me, Ms. Chambers?"

"Checking up on you?" Ainsley replied, looking down at her plate. "That's not it at all. I just assumed you joined late, because this is your first ship, and I joined late as well, so..."

"Ah," he smiled, "I see." He took another bite of food, chewing slowly. "Well, I actually went to college on Earth before deciding to join Starfleet."

"So did I," Ainsley responded. "I have a degree in Philosophy from the University of London." She thought back on her time at school. "Where did you go?"

"Tulane University, back in Nawlins." He shrugged. "Mine's in Terran Literature. Useful, huh?"

Ainsley smiled and shrugged. "No less useful than a degree in philosophy, but what the hell, it's all about bettering ourselves now a days isn't it?" She grinned more. "My parents instilled in me and my sister a love of learning just for learning."

Jackson nodded. "Now you sound like my momma. She's a Professor of Literature back home. She's always said that education is a life long process." He set down his fork and pushed his mostly empty plate away. "I think that's part of the reason I'm here. To learn."

"My parents are both professors as well. My mother in Terran Civilizations and my father in Philosophy." She placed her fork down as well and sat back in her chair. "I'm here for the same reason. I'd found I'd reached my capability of learning on Earth and needed to see other things."

"I just had to get away," he said absently. "I wanted to see the universe." He shook his head and grinned. "I know that sounds campy."

Ainsley's smile matched his own. "Nah... At least I don't think so. What a better place than Starfleet to see things and make a difference at the same time?"

"Exactly," he said as he leaned forward, looking directly into her eyes. "And where better to meet beautiful counselors?"

Ainsley blushed slightly and looked down at her plate. "You're too kind, Mr. Thompson!"

"No, it's just my momma taught me to be truthful."

"Well thank you!" she responded. "And your momma must be very proud of the wonderful son she raised!"

Jackson's face turned dark momentarily, but he quickly regained his control and laughed. "No, she is a true southern mother. Never happy till you have a wife and ten kids."

Ainsley saw the momentary change in his mood; it was her job, she did it everyday. But she also knew when to pursue something and this was definitely not the time. Neither of them were on duty. "Let's get out of here. Wanna go walking? Maybe we can hit the Arboretum or something?"

He gave her a reproachful look. "Now you are going to hurt my delicate southern sensibilities. The man is supposed to ask the beautiful young lady to take a walk, not wait so long that she finally decides to do it herself." He laughed. "Of course, Ms. Chambers, it sounds like fun."

Ainsley grinned then. "Good, it's getting too crowded in here." She got to her feet and picked up her tray and plate.

Jackson followed her through the bustle of people, taking a moment to admire the counselor from behind. That too was the southern way. "I hope it's a little less crowded over there."

She placed her tray in the reclamator and then led Jackson out into the corridor. "I don't think the arboretum is ever very crowded," she stated as they began walking down the corridor. "I would think it would be more popular, making people feel like they are on a planet or something, but that doesn't seem to be the case."

He shrugged. "Maybe it's just too different from a planet that it just makes people realize what they are missing, makes them homesick."

Ainsley nodded. "That would really make sense." She looked up at the tall man walking beside her. "Do you miss home?"

Jackson staid silent for a moment, reminiscing. "I miss the Gulf, I miss the Mississippi, I miss my friends, I miss a lot, but I think everyone does." He gave her a tight smile. "It is one of the sacrifices that we all make to come out here."

"What about your family?" Ainsley asked. "I think it's them that I miss the most. It's made me realize how much I really love them, though I know that when I go back to see them I can't take much more than a few days in their company and then I have to take a break."

"I do miss my family," he smiled. "It is hard being so far away. It's also liberating."

"No one looking over your shoulder, telling you that you should be studying this, or working on that." Ainsley sighed. "My dad really wanted me to join him at the university as an assistant professor. I think I really blew him out of the water when I told him that I had decided to join Starfleet. But thankfully my parents have always been very open. As long as Ali and I were always learning things and not doing anything illegal then it was ok."

Jackson smiled, this time it was a little bittersweet. "Well, I won't lie and say that my parents were near as understanding as yours. I actually haven't spoken to my father since I joined the Academy." He sighed, "Rather he hasn't spoken to me."

"Oh..." Ainsley stated, feeling like she had put her foot in her mouth. "And here I am going on and on about family and home. I'm sorry!"

Jackson smiled at her, a real one this time, and touched her arm gently. "Don't worry about it, you couldn't know." He shrugged. "And it's not that big of a deal. It's his loss, not mine. He'll get over it in time."

"That's a good attitude..." she responded as they approached the doors to the arboretum. The door opened for them and, in Jackson's typical gentlemanly fashion, he motioned for Ainsley to step in first. She'd never managed to make it down to this part of the ship before and her breath was taken away by the pure beauty of all the plants. "My goodness..." was all she could say.

"Impressive." Jackson glanced at the numerous flowering plants nearby. "I'd say that y'all've been busy."

Ainsley nodded as she looked around. "If I remember correctly this was just completed quite recently. Are you much of a gardener?"

"Actually, yes." He walked over to a particularly large bush of flowers. "Back home I always used to work with the gardener. It's...relaxing. Like working with machines. You can just work, sweat, and focus."

Ainsley nodded. "It's one of the simple ways of getting back to the earth that is still available..."

They walked among the plants for awhile, chatting a little more about themselves and their lives, but really just enjoying each other's company and their surroundings.

---

"Perfect Relationships, Part 2"
By: Ensign Tchalla Mel'Chir
Ensign Kit Markham
Ensign Kelzira Rax
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Risa
Stardate 57907.10, 17h45

***

Kit looked up as Amy approached and grinned from ear to ear. "Hi there," he said and stood up and set his guitar aside. "I was wondering where you'd gotten off to. I had an urge to spend some time with the woman who makes my songs happen."

Amy, flustered, sank into Kit's embrace and nuzzled her lips to his neck, while grinning broadly. "I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you too," Kit said as he slipped his arms around her. "So, what have you been up to? I've just been writing songs about you."

Amy smiled down at Kit. "Me? Really?" She chuckled and kissed him lightly. "Well, I'm glad I went shopping with Kelli and Tchi, then, since it gave you time to write me ballads."

"Shopping, hm? So, how'd that go?"

Amy shrugged. "Fine. Kelli bought a dress and Tchi bought a new outfit." She barely contained a squeal as she added, "For their date!"

Kit laughed. "Their date? Wow. I didn't realize... I mean, I know there was that...at the party... But, I didn't realize it was mutual. That's great though."

"It is," Amy agreed with a vigorous nod. "And it was great...because she wasn't at all sad about not being able to be with us anymore."

Kit let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried. Out of all of this, that was going to be the most difficult part. It's great that she's fine with this, and that it sounds like she's moving on. Tchalla seems like a very nice young woman, and...and I'm sure they'll be happy if they stay together."

"If?" Amy raised an eyebrow and chuckled as she petted Kit's cheek. "Growing pessimistic, my love?"

"Not pessimistic," he said. "Just...cautious. You never know with Kelli. Do you think they'll make it? You've seen them together."

"Well...can't be sure yet," Amy admitted. "We'll see tonight...when we join them for dinner." Smiling sweetly, she asked, "Can we?"

Kit laughed. "Of course we can," he said. "Hopefully this double-date won't end like the last one. I think a double-date with Tchalla and Kelzira will be perfect."

Amy giggled. "Great!" She slapped her hand into his, then tugged. "Let's go. We have to get ready."

"Of course," Kit said. "I think I want to wear that shirt we got me earlier today. The one with that flowery pattern. How formal are we going tonight?"

"Well...Kelli's dress has a slit up to here" --she dragged one finger along her thigh to demonstrate-- "and Tchi's shirt goes up to here. So...formal, but comfortable." Amy smiled dreamily and leaned against Kit as they strolled along. "It'd be so wonderful to dress up.... Feel so sophisticated and grown up..."

"Well, in that case," Kit said as he slipped an arm around her waist, "then I think I'm going to need to pick something different to wear. And, I think I know what that'll be...though, I may need to borrow a replicator. You know what you'll be wearing yet, my love of loves?"

Amy giggled and shook her head. "Were you going to pick something for me, my minstrel?" She brushed her lips against his and grinned. "Hmm?"

"Oh, I think I can do that," Kit whispered. "Should we find you something that goes along with what it sounds like Tchalla and Kelli are wearing? Something super sexy?"

Amy pressed her hand to Kit's chest and leaned in closer. "It's the only way to go," she purred.

"Oh, I love it when you do that," he said. "So, super sexy it is. Maybe your skirt should be slit up to" --he brushed his fingers along her hip-- "there."

Amy chuckled and dropped her hand to where Kit's was resting at her waist. "You can even help dress me, you know," she murmured against his cheek. "And we can even dye our hair matching colours."

"Oh, I'd like that very much," he said. "I'd say we could dress exactly alike, but I don't really look very good in a skirt. I think it would be kind of nice if we sort of matched though. We could coordinate all our colours, and make everyone sick of our overwhelming cuteness."

Amy giggled and pressed herself against Kit. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's go get dressed. We only have an hour."

"The nice thing about getting dressed," Kit said as they moved off to change, "is that we have to get undressed first. You get the dyes ready, I'll get our clothes."

Amy grinned as she slipped her arms around Kit's waist and strolled off with him. She knew they were a perfect pair and no one else would ever compare to him. That made her far more determined to work it out between them. It just wouldn't be the same without her musician, and he wouldn't be the same without her. She gazed at him as they walked, wearing a curious, yet tender smile. "I love you."

"I love you too," Kit said. His confidence in their relationship had wavered, but now, with Amy, it felt like it was stronger than before. "We make the best duet."

She nodded emphatically. "In every way. We don't have time to make any music before dinner, but there's always after."

Kit grinned. "We have the whole night," he said. "I'm sure we can get in quite a few songs in that time."

Amy cooed and smoothed her hand over his chest. "The whole night and morning too if you're up for it." She glanced down suggestively at his groin, then giggled.

"I think, my love, you already know the answer to that question. Now, let's get our clothes changed before we end up making ourselves late and Tchalla and Kelzira have to have dinner without us."

"Oh, I don't think they'd mind," she told him. "But then you wouldn't get to see how cute they are together! Though," she added, "not nearly as cute as us."

"I don't think anyone anywhere could ever be as cute as us," Kit said. "Though, I do want to see them together, and it's good to be social. We'll have our private fun later." He grinned. "Maybe they could get a room next to ours."

Amy snickered. "So we can listen to them? Oh, my naughty, snoopy love."

Kit laughed. "You're just jealous because you didn't think of it first," he said.

Amy pouted playfully. "You're right. I am." Then she kissed his brow. "Beautiful hands and a beautiful brain too," she sighed.

"Very beautiful," he said with a laugh. "So, we should get them the room before we go. It'll be our surprise for them."

"And our pleasure?" She grinned and rested her cheek against the side of Kit's head. Everything was right, which meant it could also go so horribly wrong. But she refused to let that happen, not this time, and hopefully not ever again.

***

While they didn't exactly match, their colours were coordinated from clothing to hair to fingernails. Hand-in-hand, they walked down the street toward the fountain where they were scheduled to meet Kelzira and Tchalla. "Hopefully this will be better than our last double-date," Kit said for the second time. "Though, Corran was very...edgy that day. I doubt Kel or Tchi will be. You don't suppose they were naughty when they went to change, do you?"

Amy's pink glossed lips sparkled as they curled into a smile, almost outshining the glitter peppering her aqua hair. "I think Kelli's taking it slow. She doesn't want to scare away Tchi," Amy told him. "Though I imagine she was tempted."

"Hell," Kit said with a laugh. "I'd be tempted."

Amy narrowed her eyes at him, displaying the dash of pink eyeshadow brushed onto their lids. "You would, would you?" She haughtily turned her cheek on him. "That's good to know."

"Only tempted," Kit said with a grin. "She's very cute and all blue. But, cute and blue still doesn't measure up to cute and perky and Amy-y."

Her mouth broke into a grin, and Amy quickly turned her head to plant a kiss on Kit's cheek. "I know that. I was just playing hard-to-get. Isn't it better than easy?"

"As long as it's my Amy, everything's better," Kit said with a grin. "Hey, there they are."

Amy almost squealed as she saw the two girls, sitting on the fountain's edge and holding hands while they spoke. She finally giggled boisterously and towed Kit along as she scampered towards them. "Oh my God! You guys look great!"

Tchalla looked up and felt herself blushing. Amidst the teal and purple of her outfit, there was a considerable amount of blue flesh on display. Kelli's outfit showed off about as much flesh, but in different places. They both looked extremely happy, especially the way their hands were laced together.

"We weren't sure if you were going to make it, knowing what the two of you are like together." The innuendo had Tchalla blushing again, but she hid it by hiding her face against Kelzira's shoulder.

"Hey! It takes long to get our hair the perfect colour," she protested. "And you try getting into these fancy clothes." She gestured to the knee-length skirt she wore that followed the curves of her hips and thighs, then flared out slightly at the knee. There was one slit in the silver material on her right that allowed freedom of movement, and travelled high enough up her thigh to reveal that she wore no undergarment beneath. The sandals on her feet were held in place by a single thin strap across the top of each foot, then secured fully by the laces that twined around her ankles and reached mid-calf. The top that she also donned was made of a sheer, black fabric that covered both arms and her torso but left her shoulders bare, and was tight, yet still loose enough that it didn't cling fully to her. The material was dark enough to conceal her flesh to some degree, but still transparent enough that it did nothing to disguise the fact that her breasts hung freely.

She grinned at them both, then winked. "He just couldn't keep his hands off me."

"I don't blame him," came Tchalla's soft voice, prompting a giggle from Kelli. "You look amazing, Amy. I could never...I couldn't dress like that."

Kelli nudged her and giggled. "You already are," she said. "Your top just doesn't show everyone your boobies."

Tchi giggled and blushed brightly. "I know I shouldn't have," she said with a somewhat defiant grin, she then leaned close enough to Amy to whisper, "but I'm not wearing any underwear either."

Amy's eyes grew wide, then she leaned heavily against Kit and snickered uncontrollably. "They're becoming more like me everyday!"

"And, that, my love, scares me. How am I going to survive this night with three beautiful women who are dressed to entice and tease? Oh woe is me, for certain."

Tchi giggled. "Don't worry, Kit," she said. "I already have my date. You don't have to worry about me."

Kelli grinned at Tchalla. "She's got you there, Kit. You may be a handsome stud, but I've only got eyes for Tchi tonight."

Kit mocked wiping the sweat from his brow. "Saved," he said with a laugh. "But the two of you look very nice, and you look very nice together."

Tchalla grinned. "Kelzira's roommate transferred, so I'm going to change quarters and move in with her."

Amy raised an eyebrow at Kelli, then asked with slight seriousness, "Is that a good idea?"

"Two small beds in two separate rooms," Kelzira said. "We'll be fine." She glanced at Tchalla and smiled.

"Kelzira mentioned that she was scared...about what might happen, if I moved in. And...and we're taking everything slow, and...and it'll be... We like each other very much, and...and when she's not trying to seduce me, I really like Kelzira. I like her when she is trying to seduce me...and she's...she's very effective, but she knows it's just...just because I'm uncomfortable with that... But, I know that...someday, maybe, we're going to make love. It scares me, but I'm becoming less scared. But...but...we'll be good."

"We're sleeping in different rooms and we're going to be careful. I think it'll be fine, Amy. It's more than just lust now."

Amy smiled at them both, then sighed and laughed with relief. "Good. I want us all to be friends and I don't want anything to ruin it. And you two deserve to be happy.... That's what I want to see."

"I'd like that very much," Tchalla said. "Aside from Lieutenant Tagliesh, you're my only friends on the ship."

Amy frowned quizzically. "Tagliesh? I thought you said she was evil, Kel?"

"For some reason, Lt. Tagliesh hates me, but she really likes Tchi. I mean, who wouldn't like Tchi, but...but she doesn't like me for whatever reason."

"Then she's a fool," Amy told her. "Except in that she likes Tchi," she added with a smile for the Andorian. "Now, come along, you two. We have reservations to keep."

"Oh, I can't wait," Tchalla said. "We are still having seafood, right?"

Amy smiled enigmatically, then turned with Kit and started away. After a moment, she leaned in towards Kit and whispered, "Stop drooling. I may not be blue, but I'm still a looker."

Kit chuckled. "Are you saying you're not drooling over her either," he whispered with a grin. "It's okay to drool as long as there's no pursuit, right? Besides, she's too happy with Kelli to even notice us. And, not that this has anything to do with anything except maybe drooling, but...she's not wearing a bra."

Amy smiled alluringly as she gently thrust her chest forward to brush against Kit's chest. "Yeah, well neither am I...in case you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, I noticed," Kit said with a laugh. "Well, what do you say we leave Tchi's bralessness to Kelli, and I'll concern myself with yours." He kissed her quickly, allowing him the opportunity to brush a hand against her unnoticed.

Amy pulled back with a shuddering, blissful sigh. "That works perfectly well for me."

She grinned and happily skipped alongside him as they approached the restaurant. It was an establishment much like the rest of Risa's. Its entryway was flanked by two torches and the entire structure was built of bamboo rods tied together by braided rope, and topped with beds of reed. Still, it had an air of luxury and sophistication to it, which worried Amy that there might be a dress code they wouldn't meet.

A man met them at the door. He looked them all over with a hungry, sensual look. "Good evening," he said. "My name is Torik. How may I help you this evening? And, I must say that the four of you look positively ravishing."

"Why, thank you," Amy replied with a radiant smile, that surprisingly held no hint of lust. "We have reservations. They're under Kelmy." She glanced back at Kelli and winked.

Kelzira giggled and returned her wink, then she pressed her lips to Tchi's ear and quickly told her the meaning of Kelmy. As she explained, Tchalla's smile got bigger and she nodded, then couldn't help giggling along with Kelli.

"Kelmy, yes," the man said. "Your table is waiting. Please, follow me."

Amy inclined her head to the man, and with her arm through Kit's started into the restaurant. The lighting was soft, provided only by the torches occupying each corner of the room, and candles alit on each table. Rich aromas hung in the air and new ones were created as waiters with trays of steaming food in hand passed them by. Amy nearly moaned with delight. "Oh we're so going to spoil ourselves tonight," she said. "I hear some of the seafood has certain...qualities." She smiled suggestively at Kit.

Kit chuckled and glanced over at Tchalla and Kelzira. "Does it?" he asked. "I guess it's good we got them that room, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Amy replied musingly. "Though, they're trying to go slow, so maybe they should stick to the breadsticks."

Kit chuckled. "I'm sure they'll be fine," he said. "And, if we need to, we can always separate them."

The attendant stopped before a table large enough to seat four and extended an arm towards it. Amy smiled up at Kit as he slid a chair out for her, then giggled as he rushed to the other side to do the same for Kelli and Tchi.

"Oh, what a gentleman," Kelli said as she sat down into her seat. She grinned as Tchi slid her chair a little closer. Under the table. they joined hands again.

Menus were set down before each of them, and after thanking the attendant who'd seated them, he departed and was replaced by a waiter. "Four Blistering Sunburns," Amy told him, then he was off. She grinned at Kit as she opened her menu and held it between them so they could both share. Dropping one hand to his thigh for added intimacy, she began reading off potential appetizers, though once in a while glanced up at Kelli and Tchi, heads touching as they perused their menu together. Amy smiled. "They're cute," she told Kit.

"They are," Kit said with a grin. "Watching them together, it gives you a sense of hope, doesn't it?"

"For them?" she asked, then raised an eyebrow at him. "Or us?"

"For everyone," Kit said with a laugh. "Still, they're very cute. I can't think of a better match for either of them since we're already both taken."

Amy squeezed Kit's thigh affectionately and smiled. "Definitely taken. No matter what. I'm doing a lot better already, Kit. I-I think I'm gonna do it this time."

"I think we are," Kit said. "And, we can watch them find their happiness too. I like the sound of that. I think the four of us, we'll make a good group of couples. Me and you, the two of them." He looked up and saw one of Tchalla's antennae brush gently against Kelli's head. Kit grinned.

"I feel like a proud parent watching her daughter on her first date," Amy sighed. "Except that I have two daughters, and they're on a date together...." She wrinkled her nose quizzically, then shook her head quickly. "Well, they're cute and I'm proud, that's all."

Kit laughed and then nodded. "Very cute," he said. "And, I think they're very happy, which is wonderful. Look at them... You know, they kind of remind me of us during our more silly romantic moments. It's probably overly voyeuristic of me, but it'd be very cute to see their first kiss."

Amy smiled and pressed her cheek to Kit's. "Well, while we eat, we can watch. But for now, you pick."

"How about that one?" Kit asked, pointing to a fresh kaimae, a tuna-like fish found out beyond the bay. "That garlic sauce sounds very tasty."

"Hmm..." Amy tapped her chin in contemplation, then gasped and pointed to a pasta dish. "Fresh clams. And still garlic sauce. How about that?"

"Oh, that sounds very tasty," he said. "We'll get that." He looked up. "You two know what you want."

Tchalla looked up and grinned. "Yes," she said. "It's...it's okay if we share, right?"

Kit smiled. "I'm sure it is," he said. "Well, if we're ready, let's get our waiter back over and we'll order."

Amy, in complete disregard for etiquette, hollered to their waiter and waved him over. She snickered at the astonished look Kit was shooting her. "What? He's coming over, isn't he?"

Kit chuckled and shook his head. "I guess he is," he said. "Well, I guess that's one way to get service." He leaned close and kissed her. "I think you're going to get an extra special treat tonight."

***

Amy again groaned as she leaned against Kit for support, while one hand covered her distended stomach. "Too much food," was all she could utter, then she turned her face into Kit's shoulder.

"But it was good food," Kit said with a grin. "You're just a glutton, my love. And, I told you that piece of pie was going to be too much."

Amy pouted. "It wasn't when I started eating it," she explained.

Kit laughed and kissed her. "Then you should have stopped before you finished," he said. "Now what am I going to do with you?"

Smiling sweetly, she replied, "Oh, I know a few things..."

"Well alright then," Kit said with a grin. "As long as your bloated tummy isn't going to be a hindrance for us, then all is good."

"Not at all," Amy assured him. "I mean, I just lay there and you do all the work... No problem at all."

"Dear god," Kit said with a laugh. "Someone's replaced my girlfriend with an imposter!"

Amy grinned, though her discomfort shone through. "And how is that, my love?"

"Because from the beginning of our fast and passionate relationship until our little frolic in the water, you have never just laid there and let me do all the work. You have to be the most wild and rambunctious sexual partner that I've ever been with. Therefore, if you're just planning to lie back and work my magic, you must not be you."

"But I am!" she insisted. "And better now. I'm just so full, Kitty. I'm afraid I may have ruined our night."

Kit grinned and nuzzled his lips against her throat. "Oh, there are a few things that I can think of that we might be able to do without upsetting your bursting belly," he said. "And, there's always listening to Tchi and Kel in the next room."

Amy smiled lazily at the two girls walking hand-in-hand in front of them. "Oh, I really hope they make it, Kitty. They're so perfect for one another. I mean...Tchi just brings out the innocence in Kelli. I-I almost caused her to lose that."

"It's good to see her not trying to rut with everything in sight," Kit whispered. "They do look really cute together, don't they? I think as long as they don't rush things, they should last. They're both scientists and they seem to get along really well, and Kelli definitely seems to have the knack for making Tchi laugh."

"Tchi laughs when she's nervous," Amy pointed out. "But...you're right, they do look content." She then groaned again and whimpered. "But I don't feel that way at all."

"What can I do to make you content?" Kit asked with a grin. "What can I do put a smile on my Amy's lips? Anything your beautiful heart desires."

Amy pouted pensively, then smiled up at Kit. "Digestion?"

"I'll get right on that," Kit said with a laugh. He then grinned as he glanced up to where Kelli was kissing Tchalla's cheek.

"They're gonna be so good together," Amy whispered, watching them fondly.

"Like us," he said. "We should tell them about our surprise for them...before they try to beam back to the ship."

Amy gasped. "They wouldn't!"

"Well, if they don't know they have a little love nest to crash in tonight, they might just do that...since they have their quarters up there."

Amy's eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted into an expression of outright indignation. "Kelli! Tchi! Stop your hanky panky and get over here!"

Tchalla's antennae shot straight up, and she spun around, her skirt a swirl of fabric around her legs. Her face showed near terror at the prospect of being caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing. "I wasn't-- We weren't-- It's not... No hanky panky!"

Amy snickered, then asked in all seriousness, "And why not!" She smiled at the girl and waved her over. "Silly...Kit and I just wanted to give you two our surprise, that's all."

Tchalla and Kelzira altered their course, and moved back to where Amy and Kit were. As they walked, Tchalla suddenly squeaked, and reached back and pulled Kelli's hand out from behind her. She blushed, and looked away, but still slid her hand into Kelli's, giving it a squeeze once their fingers were laced. "A surprise?" she asked.

"I love surprises," Kelli said with a big grin.

"Good," Amy said with a satisfied nod. "Then you'll love it when we tell you Kit and I got you two a room on the planet...next to ours. This way you can stay up all night and talk or...do whatever it is you want to do." She grinned slyly at the two.

Tchalla blushed again, and buried her face against Kelli's shoulder. Kelzira grinned and reached a hand out to Amy, since she couldn't really rush over and hug her with Tchi clinging to her. "You guys are so wonderful," she said. "Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to us."

Amy gazed upon the two, Tchi seeking to melt into Kelli from embarrassment, and Kel simply beaming with joy. "Oh, I think I have some idea..." She winked at her friend, then chuckled and gestured her forward. "Just around the corner and we'll be there."

Tchi pulled herself away from Kelli, and her smile beamed in the lights offered from above. "Thank you," she said softly. "You're a great friend, Amy. And, you too, Kit. Thank you so much."

Amy shrugged. "It's no problem. You're our friends and we thought this would be nice. You two could do with some time alone to get to know one another."

"Especially since we'll be living together from now on," Tchalla said. "Can...can we stop somewhere and get some things? Just...just some things for us...like...I don't know, but something that would be good...something..."

Kelli watched Tchalla searching for the word, and then leaned a little closer and offered, "Romantic?"

Tchalla blushed and grinned. "Yes," she said. "Yes, romantic."

Amy lifted both eyebrows at Kit in slight amusement. "Romantic, huh? I'm almost afraid to ask what they have in mind."

Tchi giggled. "Candles," she said. "Candles would be very nice, I think."

"And maybe some naughty books to read together," Kelli suggested, bringing out another blush from Tchi, though the Andorian nodded.

"And definitely something for my stomach," Amy complained as she sulked at Kit. "It really hurts..."

"We'll get something for your tummy then," Kit said with a grin. "And, maybe we can get some candles of our own."

She pouted. "Maybe..."

"Okay," Kit said and grazed his lips against her cheek. "We get candles, and perhaps some incense. How about some pieces of coloured fabric to drape over the lights? How does that sound, my love?"

Amy attempted to withhold a full-blown smile, but it came anyway, along with a boisterous giggle. "Can it be purple? Ooh! And red?" She moaned happily and practically hung off Kit's arm as she feigned her feet melting away beneath her. "I love red."

"Then purple and red it will be," Kit said. "Me, and you, and our multi-coloured paradise. Come on, let's go see what we can find. I'm sure that Kelli and Tchi are just as anxious to get to their room as we are to get to ours."

"As long as Tchi can handle it," Amy said. "Look at her." She smiled at the blue girl. "She's so sweet and innocent.... I think Kelli will be good for her. And she'll definitely be good for Kelli." Amy glanced sidelong at Kit, then kissed his cheek. "Just like you're good for me."

"And, you're good for me," Kit said. "I think the four of us should stick together. It's nice having good friends and people you care about around you. With us, it feels so comfortable, like...we could all talk about anything and it'd be okay. Hell, if they could play instruments or sing, I'd say they should be in the band. Could you imagine?" He kissed her. "It's all going to be good, my love. All of it will be good and perfect."

Amy smiled in wonderment. Perfection? She'd never known that in her life...except when she was with Kit. When that happened, she experienced it all: perfect bliss, perfect calm, perfect physical pleasure.... With Kit, she had it all, but still her eyes wandered at times, and her heart still beat rapidly for others, and she couldn't fathom why. She only wanted Kit, and to be as content as Tchi and Kelli appeared to be with one another. But Amy still yearned for others, and she wanted to know why.

Nestling her cheek to Kit's shoulder and holding both arms tightly wrapped around his waist, she clung to him, determined not to lose her first love. As they entered the shop that would sell them the items they required for a romantic evening, she knew her answers would not lie there, or in her fervent promises never to betray him again; getting to the core of her troubles and facing them was the only way, and if it meant hours of counselling sessions, she'd do it. She was just afraid she'd discover something about herself she wouldn't like, or worse, that she was incorrigible. If that was the case, the only use she'd have for a counsellor was seeking consolation after Kit dumped her for good.

---

"An Engineer's Work Is Never Done"
By: Jackson Thompson, Engineer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.10 19h15

***

Jackson looked around his quarters in disgust. He'd been so busy the last few days trying to fit in and get used to life on a starship that he still hadn't unpacked or replicated anything for his part of the room. Of course, he had yet to see his roommate either.

He sighed and walked to the first box his eyes stopped on, pulling the top off and starting to sort through the contents. Most of it he should have left back in Louisiana, but he had always had trouble letting go of things. Some items just had too many memories attached to leave behind.

He pulled a picture from his bag, smiling at the image of his parents at his father's last inauguration. He set it on his desk, tapping the control on the corner as the image begin to move and the sound of his father's voice filled the room.

"Citizens of Louisiana," his father's rich baritone began. Jackson listened to the speech without actually paying attention to the words that he had long ago memorized. He dropped the empty box on the floor, picking up another box, letting out a small grunt as he realized that this one was full of books. He set it on his bed and opened it up, smiling as he looked at a few of his old favorites before putting them on a shelf.

Jackson yawned, mainly out of boredom, and sat at his desk. He activated the computer terminal, sending a few quick messages to friends back home before taking a few moments to think before writing a short message to Ainsley telling her how much he'd enjoyed their time together earlier. It was the polite thing to do. Not to mention that it was the truth.

Jackson shut down his terminal and glanced around the room. He'd made enough of a dent for one day, and he really should get back to studying. There'd be plenty of time for decorating once he was more familiar with the ship's systems. He picked up a padd and once again went back to examining the results of the last major overhaul the ship had undergone.

With a sigh he tossed the padd onto his bed and stood up, stretching his back and heading towards the door to the refresher. Maybe a quick jog around the ship would help him relax.

Not to mention that it would give him a chance to check out a couple of areas that he'd only read about.

After all, an engineer's work is never done.

---

"The Usual Suspects"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Malthus [NPC]

Location: Guest Quarters; Commander Lyrr's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.10, 19h30

***

"So here you are," Farrell said as the doors opened. "Your quarters. I'm sorry we couldn't get you in sooner, but the medical staff insisted you stay overnight for observation."

Malthus harrumphed and wandered into the room. He looked inside the replicator. "Does this thing make grub-worms?"

"If not, I'm sure we can rustle you up some. From somewhere," Farrell said. "And here's the database we'd like you to look over." He placed a padd and a stack of iso-chips on the table. "Do me a favor, though. Take a quick look at the first few, just so I can make sure I set it up right, and then I'll leave you be."

The Ferengi huffed some more and sat at the table, sweeping the padd into one claw-nailed hand. He made a great flourish out of opening the database while smirking at Farrell. Then he looked down.

"That's the one!" he squeaked, dropping the padd. It skittered across the table and Mason caught it. "That's...that's..." he trailed off, pointing at the small screen.

"This is the race of the assassins in your apartment?" Farrell asked intently.

"Yes," Malthus said.

Farrell sat at the table. "Then let me show you some other pictures," he said. "Tell me if you recognize any of these Farehn'ti specifically."

***

The doorchime rang. Lyrr imagined it was T'Kal come to retrieve her for their trip back to the planet. As the doors parted to reveal her most beloved ensign, she could only react with a slight sneer. "You want to come in, correct?" She sighed and stepped aside for him.

"Hello, sir," Farrell said politely as he entered. "I've got something for you." He extended a padd.

With a raised eyebrow, Lyrr accepted the device. "Something else that's going to make my day?" she muttered.

"Malthus has made an interesting identification. He swears that the assassins in his home were Farehn'ti. On a hunch, I pulled up every image I could find of Farehn'ti in the Risan media, but he couldn't identify any of them specifically as his attackers. The list is all there." He indicated the padd. He stood quietly as she perused the list. "I won't presume to ask what you think, sir. That's all I have for you."

Lyrr nodded her head slowly, then glanced up at Farrell with a tight smile. "You've reached the same conclusion we have, Ensign. We discovered last night that Captain Salinger's attacker was a member of the Farehn'ti delegation. But considering the delicacy of the situation, we are unable to directly confront the Farehn'ti on this matter." She regarded him sternly and added, "Which means I would rather you not discuss this with anyone else."

"Of course, sir," Farrell said. "May I offer a suggestion?"

Lyrr smirked. "You'd better before you decide to run off and do whatever it is you're planning without permission."

"Malthus represents a loose end to these people, as do I now," he said, opting not to hear her sarcasm. "I'd like to request permission to see if we can't draw these assassins out again."

Farrell's suggestion received an amused chuckle. "So...bait? Now why does that sound familiar..." She snapped her fingers. "Ah, yes.... That's what I'm supposed to become this evening. You haven't been giving Lt. Saavar ideas now, have you?"

He gave her a quizzical look. "No, sir," he said. "I assume the idea of you as bait has something to do with the negotiations?"

"Assuming one of the Farehn'ti factions wishes these negotiations to fail," Lyrr explained, "and considering I'm heading the negotiations, Lt. T'Kal and Lt. Saavar agree that my life has been placed in jeopardy by leading the talks. Hence, bait."

"I see," Farrell said. "Want some more? Bait, I mean."

Lyrr chuckled, still slightly amused. "Bait? As in you? You do remember getting shot in the arm, don't you, Ensign? Now you wish to put yourself into danger again? They might not let you get away so easy this time."

Farrell smiled. "I'll be alright. I'll have a one-eared Ferengi to take cover behind."

Lyrr pressed her lips thin to suppress a smile. She finally managed it and cleared her throat before replying. "So, this will require you to return to the surface with the sole intention of luring in the Farehn'ti and being attacked. You realize I can't allow you to do that without a security team close at hand."

"Absolutely, sir," he nodded. "I can work up a communicator code with security, and we can have a team standing by. They're all back on the ship, and ready for action, as far as I can tell."

"And you're sure they'll actually go for you and this Ferengi?" Lyrr asked. "Security is spread thin as it is. Devoting some of its resources towards tracking you and the Ferengi because you might become attacked by our assassin isn't exactly a good enough reason for a security team to stand by to aid you if needed."

"True," Farrell said. "But they're going to be standing by anyway, right? Surely there'll be a response team or two set aside just for this purpose. And as for the Farehn'ti going for it, the more bait you put in the water, the more likely you are to attract a fish."

Lyrr nodded thoughtfully, then smiled wanly at Farrell and gestured for him to sit. Farrell sat, his face placid.

Once both were settled, he in a chair at the table, and she in the other opposite his, Lyrr folded her hands before her and stared levelly at him. "Why do you want to do this? Really. If you're trying to be a hero, then don't bother. If you're trying to prove something to me, then the same."

Farrell leaned onto one arm of the chair, touching his lip with a finger. He thought a long time before he answered. "Two crewmen died yesterday," he began, his tone quiet and serious. "The captain's been hospitalized. And another officer's disappeared. And I've been shot. The people responsible need to be caught. If I'm in a position to help, I'll do it. I've known heroes." He smiled slightly, and then shook his head. "I'm no hero."

Lyrr shrugged and shifted her gaze to her one thumb rubbing over the other. "I wouldn't say that," she said slowly. "Being a hero and wanting to be a hero are different things. Wanting to be one is a noble aspiration, although somewhat foolish. And being one is sometimes a difficult thing to live with. Not everyone makes a good hero, Ensign. And sometimes those who wish to be create far more problems than they solve. So...you just have to be who you are, do what you believe in...and it'll all work out." She sighed and again met his gaze. "If making yourself bait and catching this assassin is something you believe in, then you have permission to do it. But," she added with a stern expression, "be careful. Whether it's your intention to become a hero or not, sometimes you're thrust onto that path and it really isn't something I'd recommend for you. I think you've performed enough heroism in your career to realize it's not right for you." She paused and added quietly, "I hope."

Was that what she thought, Farrell wondered. How wrong. And how wonderfully condescending. She wouldn't recommend heroism? What was that about? Old bitterness rose, at Lyrr, at Starfleet, at a ganglord from years ago. He forced it down, and schooled his voice calm.

"What about you?" he asked, maintaining the calm he had entered with. "Why are you offering yourself as bait?"

"Because my captain was almost murdered," she replied simply. "And it's my duty to this ship to ensure his attacker is found. I'd rather it be me than another member of this crew."

They locked eyes again, and Farrell looked deep. Better her than another? Interesting.

"You'd better be careful, too, then," he said softly.

Lyrr smiled imperceptibly, still holding his gaze. "Thanks." Her eyes remained fixed to his in a moment of curiousity that approached near awkwardness in the genuine gratitude she'd expressed. Lyrr cleared her throat quickly before the feelings could fully form, and finally looked away. "However, it's my duty and I accept any consequences that may arise from it. And I'm quite capable of handling whatever those may be."

Of course you are, Farrell thought, with deep sarcasm and a trace of pity. He looked down as she looked away, and lightly scratched an eyebrow. "Well," he said, almost getting his voice back to light and cheerful, "we've got things to do, then. I'll let you get back to it." He rose from his chair.

Lyrr nodded and did the same. "Be sure to keep the security team informed if anything at all happens," Lyrr told him. Her voice had quickly reverted to its stiff, detached tone. "Good luck, Ensign."

"You too," he said, and was out the door before Lyrr realized he hadn't called her 'sir.'

Lyrr regarded the sealed doors in silence, then chuckled wryly and looked away. She was beginning to gather that Ensign Farrell was a far more complex character than she'd initially pegged him as. On the one hand, it meant that he would require even closer attention. And on the other, that she may have misjudged him. Though, she wasn't too eager to give much credence to the latter just yet.

---

"Preparations For A Hit"
By: Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security

Location: USS Hikaru Sulu
Stardate: 57907.10 20h10

***

Benedict T'Kal sat alone in his quarters. He had been busy since beaming back to the Sulu. A security team was ready to beam down when they were required, and he had already beamed down a portable forcefield generator and a set of pattern scramblers. He was preparing himself for the evening. Now dressed in black, with his katana before him he meditated upon the 'void.'

When he was ready he clasped the Maquis designed sensor inhibitor to his upper arm and slid the katana onto his back. The assassin preferred blades, and in such a situation, both his Japanese and Klingon cultures were coincident upon his own choice of weapon. If it came to a confrontation, Benedict would allow honor to be served. Live by the blade - die by the blade.

He stood and looked up at the eyes of a woman who had died and taken his heart with her. Tebrianne stared back at him and he remembered the last touch of her spirit - the mental link between them at the moment of her death. "Perhaps tonight," he said quietly to her painting. Benedict did not fear death - he embraced it. Only in death would they be reunited.

He tapped his commbadge. "T'Kal to Transporter Room One. Ready to beam down."

The voice of the Transporter Chief replied, "Aye sir," and Benedict felt the lock of the confinement field and a moment later he was beamed down to Risa.

He materialised inside the hotel room that had been reserved for Lyrr Tayla. The moment he was released from the confinement field he activated the sensor inhibitor. The room remained in darkness and he set about preparing the transporter scramblers and the portable force field generator. He hid the force field system beneath the bed, setting the parameters of the field to encapsulate the bed when activated. The assassin preferred to strike sleeping targets; Tayla would be safe when the field came up. Benedict had the remote that would trigger both systems. Once the assassin arrived he would activate the scramblers and force field - leaving Tayla safe inside the field and the assassin without her transporter get-away. Then he would deal with her.

He'd thought about the repercussions of a conflict. She would attack and he would defend, and in the end there would be only one outcome. A security team would beam down to the perimeter of the inhibitor field when it was activated, allowing only a minute or two before they entered the room. Benedict would try to take her before then.

Once he was finished he concealed himself and waited. Lyrr would arrive soon with the security escort through the lobby, making a public entrance to her suite. She would prepare herself for sleep and climb into bed, ignoring the fact of Benedict's presence. Then they would wait in silence.

Any transporter system had between four and five seconds to re-materialize. More than enough time for Benedict to activate the force-field. Once the assassin was fully materialised he would trigger the scramblers. No escape. The Sulu was scanning the room constantly, and the transporter beam's carrier wave could be tracked to its source. They already had the frequency signature from the tricorder scans of the Ambassador's room and Salinger's beach house, so they would be able to lock onto the signal with little difficulty. The security team were waiting to beam to that location to take whoever was operating that system.

In the darkness, Benedict smiled.

---

"Triple Jeopardy, Part 1"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Captain Matthew Salinger; Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal; Chief Security Officer
Malthus [NPC]

Location: Risa
Stardate: 57907.10, 20h15

***

When the haze of blue-white transporter energy unwrapped itself from around her and dissipated, Lyrr was left staring at a faux wood door with a series of four Risan glyphs emblazoned across the top in gold lettering. She imagined they indicated she'd arrived at the appropriate room. She nodded to the four guards who had materialized with her, who surveyed the area to ensure she made a safe entrance, then beamed away again to fool the Farehn'ti into believing she was truly alone. T'Kal hadn't informed her completely of his plan's every aspect, so not even she knew if they had returned to the ship, or simply another area of the hotel; as long as T'Kal knew, she was somewhat satisfied.

Adjusting the strap slung over her shoulder, and attached to the pack she carried, Lyrr swiped the keycard through the portable scanner and the door slid open. There was a moment of hesitation before she stepped inside, knowing she was about to walk into danger, but for Matt and for anyone else who had been harmed by the Farehn'ti, Lyrr willingly did so.

She gazed around the quaint living area as the door sealed behind her. It wasn't as luxurious as the Farehn'ti's lodgings but it would serve her needs. Clearing her throat, she moved further inside.

Benedict watched her enter. He was concealed from view of any of the windows, sitting comfortably behind a decorative screen, waiting patiently. The hour was getting late and the room was quiet apart from Lyrr Tayla's movements. Such was his concealment that she did not see him, nor could feel his presence. It was as if she was truly alone - and vulnerable.

He made no sign that he was there; he did not wish to bring attention to that fact. He was supposed to be invisible and he made sure that he remained so.

"So," Lyrr said, talking to the room, to the tabletop she'd just run her fingers over, to no one in particular.... "Nothing much to do in a place like this except...." She sighed, then chuckled wryly. "Well, nothing, really."

Before heading into the bedroom, Lyrr turned to survey the living area and to ensure she was alone, aside from T'Kal, wherever he had positioned himself. She hadn't felt so nervous in her life, not even before going into battle during the Occupation. At least then, she knew the enemy she was facing, knew where they would be. She was going in blind this time, and it unnerved her. Taking in a deep breath to bolster her resolve, Lyrr gripped her bag's strap for security, and started into the bedroom. It was dark and unfamiliar; a grunt as she nearly toppled over a stand in search of the light panel made that quite clear.

Benedict almost chuckled in the darkness. He remembered Tayla saying that she tripped over vases late at night and didn't like it when her security escort commed her to see if she was alright. He'd told her to be careful and switch the lights on, but this was like a preordained action on her part. She really did trip over things at night. He just shook his head in the darkness and grinned.

He wondered just what had gone through her mind as she'd been talking to herself... and perhaps to him. What was there to do in a Risan hotel room late at night? He couldn't miss the innuendo. She had a sense of humour that was for sure. He was beginning to think that was all she thought about.

He knew by her direction of movement that the lights would come on next and he closed his eyes to ward off the sudden illumination. He didn't need light in order to fight, in fact he practiced blindfolded so that he could rely only upon his other senses.

Depositing her bag on the ground, Lyrr sat down upon the oversized bed and waited. She couldn't sleep, nor even pretend to sleep with someone likely to attack her, and with T'Kal hidden away somewhere in the room. She didn't fear what was to come, for she knew she was protected, and that she could handle herself if the need arose. She just hated waiting.

Sighing impatiently, Lyrr pushed off the bed and headed for the refresher. To further convince whoever was watching her that this wasn't a trap, Lyrr decided a shower would accomplish that, and fight off the tedium of waiting idly in the process. Besides, it felt as if she hadn't taken one in weeks.

Keeping with what T'Kal had advised for safety, Lyrr kept the door wide open as she disrobed, and stepped into the steaming shower. She sighed when the water hit her, and the warm fog embraced her. This was the most appropriate way to relieve stress and boredom, though she did wonder for a moment if T'Kal had planted surveillance devices even within there, invading what little privacy she had in the current situation. But it didn't matter.

Already the knots were coming loose and Lyrr was again at ease. The floral fragranced soap also provided a therapeutic effect as she lathered it over her arms, and torso, and legs. She appreciated the thick, white foam produced; they covered every scar received during the Occupation, every reminder of what she'd lost in those days. Leaning her head against the shower wall, she smiled. That was the best part about showering, she found.

"Go ahead," she whispered to whoever might be listening. "Add another to the collection. I won't even feel a thing." Lyrr smiled serenely and closed her eyes.

Benedict grinned and shook his head. She was likely paying him back in-kind. From his position in the bedroom, he'd made certain that he could see into the only other room off the main suite - the bathroom. He hadn't imagined that Tayla would take a shower with the doors open! He didn't want to see what she was doing - but he couldn't look away either. He watched her undress and found his pulse quickening with the sight of her. He would have been embarrassed, but he knew that Tayla knew he was here. Was she doing this to tease him? He wondered if she had an exhibitionist streak.

She was attractive - and he could see the tone of her muscles as she turned in the light - and also the scars, like white streaks on her back and legs. He knew she was the right age to have been on Bajor during the Occupation - and seeing her like this explained a great deal of her reactions to him on their first meeting. Had the Cardassians done that to her? He felt the old anger burn inside of him.

She stepped into the shower and kept the door open. He could see her relaxing and soaping up - almost erotically as he watched. He couldn't take his eyes away, even though he chided himself for it and felt a little voyeuristic - he was here in case the assassin struck and it would be just a stroke of evil luck for the assassin to catch her in the shower with him looking the other way!

She was fully engrossed in spreading the lather across her body, Ben likening her use of the soap to that of a lover's caress. He could see through the steam she was smiling as she luxuriated in the hot water and the fragrant soap that he could smell as the air-conditioning spread in through the room. He swallowed hard as she leaned against the wall, showing her rear to him as the water flowed down her back, taking with it any of the concealing foam. For some reason he was beginning to sweat. Was she doing this on purpose? Of course she was... She said something - whether to herself or to him he couldn't tell, he only caught the "Go ahead..." the rest was lost in the sound of water. Was she inviting him into the shower? He shook his head again to clear the mist and fog of a sudden ache he hadn't felt in ages.

He wondered what it was like to feel her body against his. She stayed leaning against the shower wall, and he seemed to hold his breath.... There was no way he was going over there....

Only when she had doused herself fully, and every trace of soap was cleansed away, did Lyrr Tayla finally step out of the shower. The cool air hitting her warm flesh sent a chill rippling through her. Her skin reacted by raising into tiny bumps, and the most visible display was centered around her breasts and the two nubs of dark pink flesh hardening there. She emitted a shuddering sigh at the sensation, which had become oddly pleasurable. She imagined it was the Risan air that did it, and that if she weren't so reserved that she might experience more of what it had to offer.

After raking her fingers back through her dripping hair, Lyrr reached aside for the thick, soft towel hanging on the rack. She wrapped it securely around herself, and paused for a moment to lightly brush her fingers over the scar running along the top of her left breast. It seemed to gleam in the light of the room, taunting her, reminding her of a time she'd rather forget. She clenched her eyes shut and her hand reflexively tightened into a fist as the memories inevitably came.

Flashes of gray flesh in stark contrast against her own; breath smelling of Cardassian Ale falling against her cheek; the long, narrow line cut into her breast, blood running down from it, simply to pique a morbid Cardassian's curiousity. "Is their blood really like our own?" The thought alone had curled his upper lip in distaste.

Lyrr squeezed her eyes tighter and let out a sharp breath as she fought the memories. She mindlessly slammed the heels of both palms into the sink's edge and hung her head low. She hated showers.

It was only a few moments of heavy breathing and clenched teeth later that Lyrr's equanimity returned, and she was standing tall again. She tossed her head to one side to flick back a strand of wet hair falling into her eye, and passed a hand over the fogged mirror before her.

She gazed into her tired, brown eyes staring back at her, then stopped cold. From the darkness, shining like two violet beacons, was the reflection of T'Kal. He sat motionless, watching her, but she couldn't gauge what emotions he was experiencing as he stared; his eyes were unreadable, and the rest of his face was obscured by darkness. She wondered how much he'd seen, and knew it to be everything. She also wondered how long he'd been watching.

Neither of them said a word, nor made a move. They simply peered at one another through the mirror. Did he think this was for him? That her body was in offering for the fulfillment of whatever fantasy he'd imagined involving her? Or was it pride to believe he'd ever had any? Lyrr's gaze finally broke away from the mirror, and she slowly turned. Again, the violet spheres were there, unblinking, inscrutable.

Lyrr's body was beginning to heat beneath the towel, and tremble not from the chill in the air now, but from a twinge of desire that disgusted her. His strong, rough hands roaming over her silken flesh, and pink lips touching her own.... But his bronze skin quickly paled to a sickly gray, and his lips, the same. Lyrr gasped quietly and closed the doors. The images vanished like the fog rising up towards the fan.

The pleasure, carnality, the desires Risa inspired were the reason she had stayed far away from the planet. They always led to recollections she wished to remain forgotten. Now, they would plague her even in her sleep.

He was as still as stone as he'd watched her trace the scar across her breast. With it came memories - for her as well as him. She'd been brutalised and tortured. He'd seen marks and scars like them before. Women raped and tortured by their Cardassian captors. He'd killed enough of the perpetrators of such brutality to know that the ones who did such things were cowards and not worth an honourable death. As she reacted to the memories in her mind, he had been brought back to Tebrianne's death. She had been raped by Marco - and he still carried the memories as if it had been done to him. He carried the scars on his soul. Their eyes had met in the mirror but he was seeing the anguish in her as she stood bared to him in more than flesh. He finally understood her. They were more kin to each other than she would ever know.

At that moment T'Kal would have done anything to take those memories away from her. He burned with the shame of seeing her pain. One thing he did know: no one and nothing would hurt her while he was with her. There was no uncertainty in his mind. His past and his future came together in the moment. He didn't know why she had chosen to show him so much of her inner self. The skin no longer mattered. It was a cry for help that he could not ignore. She was a beautiful woman, with a wounded soul.

Like the days of his past when he had walked upon Bajor as Tikaru - his spirit burned for vengeance. When the assassin came, there would be no divine intervention to help her.

***

"This is stupid," Malthus said for the countless time.

"Shut up," Farrell muttered in response. Again. This had seemed like such a good idea back at the beginning.

They had been canvassing the city for hours. Every salvage shop. Every electronics component merchant. Every transporter dealer they could find. The routine had been the same. Walk in. Show the file image of a Farehn'ti, who was probably some farmer light-years from Risa. Ask if this particular Farehn'ti had been in for transporter parts. Get told no, and make a big show of doing it.

"Tell me what we're doing, again?" Malthus asked, knowing how much it irritated Farrell. They had stopped briefly at a sidewalk café, but were preparing to carry on their search.

"We're trying to get noticed," Farrell sighed.

"So we can get shot again?"

"No, so we can find whoever shot us to begin with. And shoot them first."

"Right. They only ever bought from me. What makes you think this will work?"

"Maybe they didn't just buy from you," Farrell explained for what seemed like the hundredth time. He started walking again. Malthus followed.

"I can't believe I'm actually helping Starfleet," the Ferengi said. Farrell rolled his eyes, but remained quiet.

***

Xayella woke up with a start, at once angry with herself for closing her eyes even a moment. She wondered immediately if Matt had regained conscious ness while she slept, only to succumb to the pulls of slumber again, depriving her of the opportunity to see his smiling eyes again.

Xayella sighed and sat up, only to have a spike of pain driven through her back. She couldn't keep sleeping hunched over as she was, but not until Matt was awake would she leave.

"Come on," she urged him gently. "Just one smile." Xayella smiled ruefully. "Not even a wink?" She watched him expectantly, but nothing. "Fine," she sighed, then chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his brow.

"Hey!"

Xayella straightened upright again at the muffled shout from outside the room. She couldn't be certain, but it sounded much like Ensign Glickman, though there were others as well. The one shout became many, and the characteristic din of a scuffle arose. Xayella frowned as she peered at the two doors closing off Matt's room.

Through the frosted glass panes, there was blurred movement - no defined forms, but their actions appeared undoubtedly aggressive. Xayella's heart battered against her chest. The Farehn'ti hadn't succeeded in killing Matt, and if they were so intent upon eliminating him, they would not simply give up. This might be their second chance to be rid of him, and with the transporter inhibitors planted in the room, their only way in was through those doors.

She shifted closer to Matt, while still watching the door as the commotion increased in volume and intensity. With one arm slung over his waist for what little protection her body could provide, Xayella slid her free hand across her chest, towards her communicator. "Please go away," she pleaded anxiously, as if that would be enough to will the intruders away.

She instinctively held Matt tighter as a loud boom accompanied someone slamming into the doors. Another, more violent this time, then another. Through the glass, figures were clearly seen struggling; black and gold uniforms were pushing back the others wearing nondescript clothing, but it was obvious they were attempting to reach the room.

Xayella's fingers touched the cold metal of her communicator just as one of the aggressors eluded the security officers and burst through the doors. She gasped and gave a violent start. Her hand flew away from her chest and the communicator as she grappled for the chairback to steady herself. She hollered out in alarm as the man approached, shouting at him to go away, to leave them alone. But he ignored and continued forward, intent upon reaching his target: Matt.

***

"I still can't believe I fell for that stupid hue-mon woman you dangled at me at the race," Malthus continued to bemoan his life of the past few days.

"I can't believe you actually race. You'll need to stuff your helmet now," Farrell retorted, pointing at his own ear.

Malthus glared at Farrell. Farrell smirked sarcastically. They kept walking.

"At least I don't stuff the shoulders of my uniform," Malthus muttered.

"At least I don't wear padded pants," Farrell said.

Malthus whirled on Farrell. "All right, that's it!" he spat. "You've been mocking me this whole time, and I've had enough."

"I'm mocking you?" Farrell turned to face him, and glanced around unconsciously. His retort died in his throat, but he kept his face blank. He jerked his head down the street, and started walking again.

"We're being followed," he said quietly.

---

"Triple Jeopardy, Part 2"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Captain Matthew Salinger; Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal; Chief Security Officer
Malthus [NPC]

Location: Risa
Stardate: 57907.10, 20h55

***

When Lyrr finally emerged from the refresher she was fully clothed again in her uniform and her hair had been combed dry. She walked with eyes directly forward, never straying to where she knew T'Kal would still be, watching her as if he were still the golden tiger of Bajoran lore, and she, his prey; however in this case, his quarry was the past he'd glimpsed at, the one thing that truly haunted Lyrr.

It unnerved her, those eerie purple eyes boring into her and probing the memories she'd so securely kept hidden. He was a threat to the privacy she'd always protected herself with, from the safe detachment that allowed her to keep just enough distance between herself and anyone who might learn her secrets.

Lyrr sat down stiffly upon the bed and gazed at her folded hands atop her lap. The assassin no longer troubled her; nothing ever did when the past returned to haunt her. She hoped T'Kal's plan would not be ruined, but as she reclined onto the mattress and stared distantly up at the ceiling, she knew she would not find sleep that night. With a long sigh, she turned onto her side and curled inward on herself. She'd always felt safest that way.

Benedict watched her still. He felt calm and detached as if he was seeing her through the eyes of a pure observer. Curled upon herself she seemed so small and vulnerable. The urge to comfort her was almost overwhelming, but he did not break his control. He was stone still. Waiting.

It seemed only moments later that the chirp of a commbadge and an urgent voice filtering from it pulled Lyrr from her reverie. She sat up quickly in bed, and responded, then listened to the security officer's report. "I'm on my way," Lyrr replied. She swung her legs over the side of the mattress, and immediately made for the door.

Benedict flowed from his place, emerging from shadow to be between Lyrr and the door before she managed to get too far. He held up a cautionary hand and shook his head in denial. He'd heard the report too, through her communicator. He'd assigned security officers to deal with anything that might happen. He pointed at her commbadge and stepped closer so that they were bare inches apart. He was like a black-clad apparition moving soundlessly as he towered above her. His words were soft and meant only for her, so that it would be extremely unlikely that they could be overheard.

"Send the security team from Sulu. They are ready to go and will get there faster than you can. This is a tactic to draw you away from the safe zone. Stay here. That contingency is covered. If ten fully armed security officers cannot deal with it then it is more than we can handle. I trust my team. Let them handle it." He stared into her eyes and this close to her his detachment faltered. His concern was clearly evident as he willed her to stay. "Please?" he asked.

Lyrr sighed and looked away, then met T'Kal's gaze again, even with as intense as it was. "If Captain Salinger is in trouble," she whispered, "then I should be there. If we send a security team over there, we'll be dividing our forces. Could that not be what they want?"

"Salinger is in no danger," he whispered. "Transporter inhibitors are covering him, the Sulu is scanning him, and he has six armed security officers standing outside. Send the Away Team - do what they want. Let them think that our forces are not coming here. But do not move out of this area. I cannot protect you outside as well as I can in here. This is my kill zone - let them come to me!" The intensity of his conviction was evident. "I want you here - where I can protect you." He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Stay. This tactic I expected; they will think that you are alone and that their diversion worked. They do not suspect that I am here."

Lyrr reflexively rotated her shoulder away from T'Kal's hand, and immediately she relaxed again. She knew all he said was true and right, but she was growing restless waiting, confined to a bedroom with T'Kal far too close for comfort. But her duty to her ship required she catch those assassins, so with a grudging nod, she turned and started back towards the bed. Before getting too far, she paused and barely glanced over one shoulder. "You won't-- You won't tell anyone about tonight, will you? It was inappropriate."

Benedict looked her in the eyes. "I saw nothing," he said gently. His eyes said differently; they were filled with compassion - but nothing of pity. He knew where she came from; she didn't deserve pity.

Lyrr nodded stiffly, and resumed her course towards the bed. She'd been weak and lost governance of her emotions. And she'd allowed T'Kal to witness it. Lyrr was more ashamed than she had been during those days that preoccupied her memories now.

With a sigh, she positioned herself on the center of the bed again, this time drawing her knees in close and resting her chin atop them. She needed one moment alone to rein in her emotions, just one, but would not have it until the assassin struck and was subdued. For that reason alone, she welcomed the Farehn'ti murderer.

Benedict stood in the centre of the room, looking at the Bajoran woman as she sat on the bed. He caught her eyes just once and offered a slight nod. Then he was back where he'd been before. The waiting would continue. He allowed his sense to range out again instead of concentrating on Lyrr. His instincts told him that it would happen here. Soon.

He settled down to resume his vigil. The remote for the force-field and transporter inhibitors lay in his palm ready to be activated.

***

Malthus went pale, his anger vanishing. "Really?" he asked cautiously.

"Don't look around, you moron," Farrell said, walking casually. "We'll crossthe street. See the big window?" Across the street was a wide reflective office window.

"Yeah," Malthus said.

"Check it as we get close. See if you can spot the two guys following us. Humanoid, with hoods. In the short jackets."

Farrell and Malthus approached the window, and Farrell actually stopped to check his hair. While they were watching the reflection, two humanoid figures in hooded waist-length coats stopped across the street and watched them. They started across the street just as Farrell and Malthus started moving again.

"See them?" Farrell asked quietly.

"I did," Malthus answered. "They were at that café, too."

Farrell nodded. "Looks like we've gotten some attention after all. Let's see if we can catch them. Turn down that next alley, and then hide." Farrell stretched his shoulders, and activated the commbadge in his pocket. "Farrell to Sulu. Code One. Beam down in" --he estimated the distance to the alley-- "thirty seconds." There was no reply, in keeping with the protocols established earlier.

Five seconds later, the pair turned into the alley, and Malthus immediately scrambled behind a garbage bin. Farrell took up position in a shadowed doorway, quietly counting in his head and drawing his phaser.

***

"What the hell are you doing in here!"

The image capture device gave a series of beeps as it recorded Matt's sleeping form, and Xayella's hand coming up to slap the device away. The man juggled it frantically, but the recorder tumbled to the ground.

Enraged, Xayella stepped in front of him and this time her hand struck his face. "Get out," she spat.

The Risan rubbed his stinging cheek and reached down to collect his device. Xayella kicked it away. "I said get out!"

"I have a right to be here!" the man protested. "The Voyeur Frequency has a duty to give the people an uncensored, unedited glimpse at the events the Risan newsnet wants to hide. We give them the full story!"

"This is an invasion of privacy," she snapped. She shoved him. "Now leave!"

He stammered another protest, but Ensign Glickman rushed into the room and dragged the man away. "Sorry, Lieutenant," the officer said. "They won't bother you again."

She sneered. "Incompetent."

"You can't keep the truth hidden forever!" the reporter raved, feebly resisting Glickman's hold. "You can't-- Ow," he complained. "That's my arm you're jerking, not a--" The rest of his lewd comment was muffled by the doors closing behind them, and again Xayella was left in silence.

She looked aside at the recorder kicked into the corner and shook her head reproachfully. Not even their privacy was safe, let alone themselves. Sighing, she returned to Matt's side and slipped her hand again into his.

"It's okay," she whispered, then kissed his brow. "No one is going to bother you in here, not while I'm protecting you."

Then she lay her head upon his chest and focused on it rising and falling. It was comfort enough for her.

***

Ten seconds after Farrell's phaser had cleared the holster, three hoods came around the corner and entered the alley; apparently one had been sneakier than his fellows. The trio stopped when they realized their prey was nowhere in sight. They looked at each other, and one produced a knife. It glittered dully in the half-light of the alley.

It took them two seconds to find Malthus. "Alright, you," the first hood said. "Give it up."

Malthus stood slowly, looking a little confused, and an unarmed hood moved to search him. Farrell stepped from cover, his phaser raised.

"Let's not move, shall we?" he asked calmly.

Inexplicably, Malthus took off down the alley, and the sudden move distracted Farrell. One hooded man ran after Malthus, another fumbled in his jacket, and the one with the knife rushed Farrell, barreling him into the alley wall. They went down in a heap, flailing, kicking, and punching. Farrell brought his phaser into the man's stomach and fired. The hood shrieked as the maximum stun setting threw him to one side, and Farrell scrabbled to get up.

The fumbling hood gave up on whatever he was doing when his friend screamed. He jumped at Farrell before the ensign could get cleanly off the ground, landing a savage kick to Farrell's kidney. The force made him drop his phaser; the curved gun skittered against a wall of the alley, out of reach. Farrell looked up, and shifted just in time to get the next kick to glance off his head instead of breaking it. Stars of pain danced in his vision, and his ears rang.

Then there was a blue-white light, and the stars and ringing coalesced into four security officers with rifles at the ready. Farrell's attacker tried to run, but was stunned quickly. Two crewmen were dispatched down the alley to find Malthus and the last attacker.

"You alright, Farrell?" The bulk of Ensign Firece loomed above him, and Farrell took the offered hand, standing on shaky legs.

"Where's my weapon?" he asked, wanting to vomit. It was handed to him, and he quickly deactivated it and put it away, watching as the stunned man was checked by a crewman.

The last hood was marched back down the alley by a Bolian security crewman, followed by an embarrassed Malthus. The two standing men assumed a position with their hands against a wall of the alley. That didn't feel right, somehow.

"Who are you three?" Farrell asked as Firece's detail went about cuffing them.

"All we wanted was the credchits," Malthus' chaser said. The other told him to shut up as an officer fished a klingon-style disruptor out of his jacket. The jagged weapon must have gotten snagged in the holster.

"Oh, please," Farrell said with disappointment. "You three are muggers?"

"We want a lawyer," said shut-up-man.

"This was your idea," said chaser.

"Shut up," said shut-up-man, true to form.

Farrell kicked at a piece of trash in frustration. His head hurt. His back throbbed. Then he felt the sting, and reflexively put a hand to his side. His uniform was wet. Apparently the knife man had done more damage then he thought. It didn't seem bad, but he steadied himself against the wall of the alley anyway.

"Crewman?" he said to the man checking the stunned knife-man. The crewman was stocky and swarthy, and looked up with a "Sir?"

"Give me a hand here, will ya?" Farrell winced. The crewman opened his kitbag for a medpack, and Farrell was dimly aware of Firece's commbadge beeping as he pulled his shirt up for the dermpatch.

---

"Triple Jeopardy, Part 3"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal; Chief Security Officer
Malthus [NPC]

Location: Risa
Stardate: 57907.10, 21h20

***

"Thank you, Ensign Glickman. Just make certain to call down extra guards. Lyrr out." She sighed and again returned her cheek to her knees. The incident at the hospital had been resolved. Lyrr smiled wryly. Reporters, of all people. At least it meant Matt was safe. Though it increased the odds that she would be the Farehn'ti's target tonight. She had no idea how Ensign Farrell was faring. Though soon enough they'd discover who the Farehn'ti's eyes were truly on.

Lyrr closed her own. She was tired of the game. She now willed them to arrive, simply so she could at least find sleep, no matter how restless a one it would be. "Just come on," she murmured, wreathing her arms around her legs. "Let's get this done."

The hours ticked away. The night came and the three moons of Risa were high in the night sky. Lyrr was laying facing Benedict, her knees curled up and her arms wrapped around them like a child. Her eyes were closing more often although she fought to stay awake. Benedict hoped that she would sleep. He didn't want to stare into her eyes, but he glanced at her several times.

The soft shimmer was a dim orange that lit the room like a candle's flame. Flickering energy was resolving into a humanoid form. It had begun.

On the Sulu, the lateral sensor array was tasked to scan the hotel on a continuous basis. It picked up the carrier wave of the transporter and locked on to it in less than a micro-second. It began the trace as the form within the carrier wave of the transporter beam became solid. A full five seconds was the duration of the materialization - more than enough time for the sophisticated sub-space sensor grid to pin-point the location of the transmission point of the beam. The security team tasked to take care of this phase swung into action as, down on Risa in the hotel room, Benedict stepped out of the shadows and activated the bed's shield of protection. The shimmering blue force field sprang into being, but Lyrr remained lying and still under the dome of energy to complete the ruse.

The assassin fully materialized and Benedict activated the transporter inhibitors outside the room. No way to beam in and no way to beam out. No way to get to Lyrr Tayla as she lay deceptively helpless and vulnerable on the bed.

The blade was already in motion - the Farehn'ti female was striking fast as a viper at the exposed chest of Lyrr Tayla. It flicked harmlessly across the force-field with a hiss of blue energy that deflected the blade and made her jump backward in surprise. It was then that Lyrr's eyes opened to find those of the assassin. She had never seen the woman display any sign of emotion before, but now, Lyrr distinctly witnessed a trace of shock in Viata's eyes.

"Surprise," Lyrr whispered.

Benedict was a dark shadow in a dark room, but the hiss of the vibro-blade leaving its scabbard drew the assassin's attention. "This time your victim isn't asleep, Viata." Benedict's voice was menacing.

The assassin turned to face him. Their eyes met. She touched a device on her chest with a trace of a smile. Nothing happened. She touched it again and when that too met with failure the smile faded.

"Transporter inhibitors," Benedict said softly. His blade cut the air as he stepped forward, flashing before him in right attitude, his body turning to present his side to minimise his target profile. "I don't want to kill you, Viata. Tell me...."

She moved like lightning. Her body spun, leg whipping out to connect with Benedict's sword arm, but he sensed the movement and stepped inside her arc of rotation. Her leg caught him in the side, but closer to her knee where her momentum was far less and he was suddenly striking out with an open palm, blocking her knife hand. Her instant reaction was a flurry of close in strikes, blocked by Benedict's forearms and open hand. His blade was too long for close-in fighting and he stepped away, but she followed as if anticipating his every move.

They fought a flurry of strikes across the room, Viata using feet, hands, elbows and body to make Benedict back away from Lyrr and her protecting force-field; he ignored the Bajoran's shouted command to disengage it.

His blade was getting in the way and so he threw it straight armed into the far wall. The vibroblade struck deeply and embedded itself as Benedict drew a shorter blade and blocked another strike at his throat. They wanted to capture Viata, but it was already apparent to Benedict that she wasn't going to give anything away, nor give up easily. She was fierce and unafraid.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Benedict produced a short blade and with both blades held parallel to his forearms he moved to retake the initiative. Crouching low he struck at her inner thighs, hoping to cripple her, but his blades cut air as she leaped upward and used Benedict's own body as a vault, somersaulting past him and behind. He continued his forward movement, this time diving toward Lyrr and rolling on the floor, coming up to spin toward the assassin. Once again he was between her and Lyrr, but the assassin wasn't letting up.

She leapt and spun behind him and as he turned to face her she caught him across the chest with a stunning blow. It staggered him, but he turned as her leg reached full extension and allowed the full impact to glance away. His hands were a blur as he struck with both knives, slashing her leg inside the knee and instep.

The results surprised him. She wore armoured cloth. The knives slid across the surface of her suit without drawing blood. As she ducked away her own blade scored a cut across his chest and she was gone - flipping away and coming to a crouch with a feral grin on her face. She was totally silent. Her long bladed dagger was dulled with Benedict's blood. He felt a dull pain, but ignored the blood seeping into his black uniform. The cut was superficial.

He stood upright, walking closer to Lyrr who was still trapped within the enclosing field, and assailing him with importunities to drop it. She was nearly pressed up against the field, watching anxiously and with an overwhelming desire to join the battle. Instead, she was trapped and left to witness her protector nearly coming up short in the fight.

Lyrr beat one fist against the field, which was quickly deflected away. "Dammit, T'Kal!"

He didn't take his eyes off Viata and it seemed that she was recouping her own strength as he was. She stepped sideways and Benedict followed the movement, keeping her away from the bed. The knife in her hands never stopped moving. It was a weaving dance of ritualistic form that Benedict watched with only his peripheral vision. It was a complex pattern, but it was still a pattern. She was a challenging adversary, gaining first blood, and waiting to see if the cut impaired him, weighing his moves and strengths, searching for weakness as he was doing with her.

While she still held a blade, Benedict was consigned to the same. It was a matter of honor. He smiled at her to show that he too was unafraid. Perhaps she was good enough? The first doubt surfaced and he knew that if death was to take him then that would be his fate. All he had to do was deny his opponent long enough for the security team to reach them.

He sheathed both blades; they were useless against her suit. As the blades were tucked away she struck. He caught the flick of her wrist and moved on instinct. The mono-filament whip slashed the air where he'd been a moment before and sliced across the force-field, rippling the energy discharge and causing Lyrr to flinch inside the dome. T'Kal's answer was swift. He threw a throwing dagger straight at her face as he flipped over the whip. The blade flew straight and true, but the Farehn'ti assassin turned her head in time to avoid a blinding injury but it scored a deep gash in her cheek, the only unexposed area of her suit beside her hands. She cried out in a mixture of pain and rage but kept moving, barely avoiding a crushing blow to her knee as Benedict landed in-close again so that she couldn't use the whip device.

He followed up with a double strike, using the edges of his hardened hands against her arm. The circular movement of the strikes were designed to trap her arm and break it, but she barely managed to escape by dropping her body and twisting away, simultaneously whipping her own legs into Benedict's knees. He was thrown backward and flipped over with the sweep, but used the momentum to keep on rolling - and avoided the stabbing long dagger that slammed into the floor.

He came to his feet and leaped, flipping over his own body. She was on the floor directly beneath him and he slammed his hand down upon her chest. The blow was enough to shatter bones, but her suit absorbed much of the force. She was in pain but not out as Benedict came back onto his feet. The whip shot out once again, striking air as Benedict moved again - toward his opponent, not allowing her distance. She rolled to her feet and blocked a savage side kick, deflecting its force rather than blocking its strength. Benedict's foot slammed into a set of drawers and caved the drawer faces inwards where he struck, but he was already twisting and his elbow came around and impacted against the assassin's knife arm, blocking her cut to his neck.

She was bleeding profusely from the opened cheek. Blood was slicking her suit front and splashing across the pale green carpet. Benedict's own blood was smeared across his uniform, the wide gash ripping open with his exertions and the tattered uniform opening and unravelling.

He was beginning to breathe heavily and he could see that she was the same. He came at her again, a flurry of hand strikes at her knife arm and hand which she managed to block or parry, but barely. She was tiring, as was he, the blood loss and pain taking its toll. She was stronger than she appeared, and he briefly wondered at the Farehn'ti physiology. She tried to sweep him again but he blocked with hard kicks to her legs that the suit helped to absorb. The punishment he was giving out was brutal, but she was taking it. He wasn't holding anything back.

The knife still moved, and he knew the pattern. She was tiring mentally, falling into ritual training. His instincts told him when and where to strike. In a blur of speed he came into her arc with the knife and she made a predictable weave in the pattern. His arms caught her wrist and elbow, locking it up and wrapping his body close to hers. He twisted to apply pressure and she flipped over her knife arm, the slickness of her suit aiding her. Before he could snap the arm at the elbow she was sliding away, slashing at his hands with the knife. She cut him again - this time across his forearm as he blocked and parried.

She followed up with a series of kicks to his legs. He parried and blocked but she stunned his thigh with a stab of the blade, the point breaking skin and piercing flesh, glancing off bone and exiting through muscle. He slammed an open palm into her chest, sending her sprawling backward and crashing into a low table. Blood ran freely down his leg and he staggered, collapsing onto the floor. He raised himself, but she was now between Benedict and Lyrr with only the forcefield between the assassin and her target, who was still shouting at T'Kal to lower the field.

The assassin obliged. She spun away from him, facing Lyrr and with savage glee took a device from a pouch at her belt. A shrill electronic scream sounded as she flicked her wrist toward Lyrr who was still on the bed, unable to help Benedict. The object reached a higher pitch in sonic screaming and there was a dull flash.

The force field dropped as it was deactivated. The lights in the room went out.

Viata, the Farehn'ti assassin raised her blade as if saluting Benedict and spun upon Lyrr.

The Bajoran smiled viciously, finally able to be less the helpless victim, and more the stubborn, relentless soldier she had once been. Raising one arm, Lyrr trained the hand phaser she'd had palmed on Viata, whose eyes narrowed briefly.

"We're just full of surprises tonight, aren't we?" she quipped. Then, her thumb depressed the trigger. Where a beam of energy should have launched itself at Viata, there was nothing. Lyrr's eyes flashed briefly towards the dead weapon in her hand, and she muttered, "I hate surprises."

---

"R & R"
By: Ensign Dwayne Sanchez

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.10, 21h20

***

Dwayne lay on his bed. The room was dark and his hands braced against the back of his head. Talk about being stupid. I've never felt so stupid before in my life. The conversation he'd had with Kelzira was, to say the least, interesting. What was more, it was hair raising. He wasn't sure he wanted to be intimate with anyone on board. Not the same way he was with Amy, or the same way he'd been with Amy and Kelly in the holodeck. There was no way in hell he wanted to do any of that again. It hurt too much.

The rest of his evening stood to be a lonesome one, but he didn't care. He was tired of trying and tired of being there for someone when they weren't going to be there for him. He'd almost hated Steele for doing what he'd done, and now Dwayne's chances with Jen were nil.

He wasn't able to sleep so he went and got dressed and headed for the gym. He found a pair of boxing gloves, ones that fit. Then he moved to the punching bag and began going a few rounds with the bag. Every thought that had to do with Steele caused him to hit the thing harder. It's all his fault. My life on board was rather cool till that damned wager. Of course I can't blame him completely, it is partly my fault too. With that thought, he punched the bag again.

He continued with the exercise, not seeing and not really paying attention to his surroundings. He wasn't caring if anyone ever came in, or if he ever left the gym again...

---

"Building Trust"
By: Ensign Cecily Torsten; Yeoman
Ensign Dwayne Sanchez; Operations Officer

Location: Gym, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.10, 21h35

***

The sound of fists hitting leather-like material instantly met Cecily's ears as she stepped inside the Sulu's Gymnasium. She had never considered herself much of a night owl but she did find herself on occasion resorting to doing late night activities such as playing her violin, practicing her music or, in tonight's case, indulging in some late exercise.

She looked around the Gym curiously before her eyes finally fell on the source of the noise she had heard upon coming inside: a young man with tanned skin and dark hair stood beating away at a punching bag, appearing to try and literally knock the life out of the fighting instrument. He was dressed not dissimilarly to herself yet her own outfit simply consisted of red running shorts, and a dark grey tanktop.

Cecily clutched the towel nervously on her shoulder before she proceeded to walk over to where the room's occupant stood. Upon finally approaching him she could see he was quite tall, but he looked to be quite handsome as well. Nervously she wringed the towel with her hand before speaking. "Hi....hi there.... I couldn't help but notice y-you...upon...coming into the gym." Unsure of what to say she held out the water bottle she held in her other hand, doing her absolute best not to appear so nervous. She couldn't help it, it was a bit of a forced habit. No matter what, she always seemed to feel slightly intimidated by others taller than her. "Do you want...so-some water? Y-you like pr-pretty flushed..."

Dwayne never stopped; he didn't even glance down at the diminutive female next to him. What seemed to happen was that his anger flared even more. He was beginning to dislike women. He'd been hurt too many times in such a short time period for even a friendly, if somewhat nervous female to even make a dent in his anger. He swung another punch at the bag as he spat out, "No thank you." He punched at the bag again and again, a couple of rabbit punches and he stopped and stood there a moment.

He looked at Cecily. "What do you want?"

Cecily felt her face flush as Dwayne stared down at her. Nervously she looked at the ground uncertain as to why exactly this other officer was acting so angry, and towards herself considering she not only did not know this person nor upset him. "I'm sorry, I only thought I'd...try...try, and be..ni...nice by c-coming to...greet you..." Mustering up her courage she looked up at Dwayne, and replied sincerely and honestly, "I'm very sorry if I upset you, sir, I only...recently...got onboard..."

It was the truth. While Cecily had only recently gotten onboard, the last thing she wanted do on her first voyage was to make more enemies than friends. Pel'Ga the Klingon was one of which Torsten was uncertain as to where she stood... Holding out her hand to Dwayne she remarked, "I...I'm Cecily...what's your name?"

Dwayne couldn't stay angry. It really just wasn't in him. He glanced down at the young thing at his side. "I'm sorry. You're not the one at fault here." He turned from the bag and pulled the gloves from his hands. "Dwayne." He answered her question inquiring about his name.

She shook his hand firmly. "Dwayne...it's a nice name, it...it suits you," Cecily remarked, managing a small smile. "I forgive you. What's wrong.... I'm...I'm...not trying to be nosey...I just can't help but wonder why someone such as yourself is...so upset."

If he'd had someone say that to him a few weeks ago, he'd have blushed a deep crimson, but not now, not anymore. "It's nothing, just stupid things mostly." He took up her offer of something to drink and tipped the water bottle up and nearly drained the thing before handing it back to her. "Thanks."

Cecily blinked as she looked at the nearly empty water bottle in her hands; for a moment she wondered if she should have brought an extra. Shrugging it off she smiled at Dwayne. "You're welcome."

It was then he started to look at her a little closer. She looked pretty, but it had been in Dwayne's short experience that pretty just wasn't enough. She would need to be able to deal with all his quirks.

He was going to take his time. Not just fall for a pretty face. She had to be more than pretty or have a good body now. Nothing would do better than someone who had a mind and knew how to use it. This girl seemed to stammer too much, and that in itself wasn't a good thing either. She had to have confidence in herself and someone who stammered as much as she did just didn't seem too confident.

Dwayne moved on to the weights and setting the leg lift machine to 150 pounds. He began to lift. "So, what department do you work in?"

Depositing the empty bottle on a Reclamator, Cecily moved over to a rowing machine and sat down adjusting the level to provide enough of a workout for one her stature and build. Placing her towel on a bench Cecily sat down and began to use the machine. "What? Oh, I'm with the Command department..."

Continuing to row with her arms she looked over at Dwayne feeling less on edge than she was earlier. She didn't normally stammer in her speech when she talked to others; that in itself only seemed to happen when she was nervous. Her small height didn't help matters either as she often felt intimidated upon first meeting with those taller than herself giving her the impression she felt overpowered or of lesser stature.

"This is my first assignment, I'm planning on trying to move onto other areas in Command but right now I'm a Yeoman. Granted it's not nearly exciting...as...Science or Xenology, but I enjoy the work. And yourself? What department do you work in, Dwayne?"

"Operations." He shifted the weight on the machine and laid on his stomach to do reverse lifts. "I've been on board a while now. I was with the ship on her last mission. We lost a few people on that one."

Cecily stood and moved over to a bench that would allow her to do Ab Crunches. Hooking her feet under the holding bar she folded her arms behind her neck and began to exercise. "I see. So have you served on any other ships prior to the Sulu?"

"No" --a grunt escaped his lips as he lifted with his legs-- "the Sulu is my first assignment." After doing several repetitions, he moved on to working on his arms, starting with curls.

"This is my first posting ever, somehow I expected I'd be at a Starstation of some kind doing Research on the area...go figure though when one has a professor for a mother and a lawyer for a father..." she replied, shaking her head.

"Well, I wouldn't know about having a professor for a mother and a lawyer for a father. My parents were in Starfleet, and died doing it."

Cecily sat up and turned to look at Dwayne. "I'm sorry. How did it happen?" she asked, reaching for her towel as she proceeded to mop the sweat off her face and neck.

"It was a long time ago, really. I was maybe six, or seven, when it happened. I lived with my grandparents after they died. Well, actually, I'd lived with my grandparents even before they died. My parents didn't want to take the chance they'd lose me too." He didn't explain further, just continued with arm curls.

She nodded, having listened intently to Dwayne speak of his parents. "In truth I never really got to know my parents either, my real parents anyway. My mother passed away when I was born and I-- rather nobody knows whatever really happened to my father..."

Cecily shook her head contemplating her family. "I wonder what they were like a lot..." Throwing her towel around her neck she swung her legs over the side of the bench and hopped off.

"Do you want to get together for lunch sometime?" She blushed, wringing her hands together as she continued. "I'm not tr-trying to ask you out or anything but I'm still relatively a new fish in the pond so to speak and I was wondering if you'd be willing to show me around...that is if you want to?"

Dwayne settled the weights down and took a deep breath. "Oh, sure, I guess." The last time he'd had lunch with someone, it wasn't very stimulating. But then, he supposed Cris had other things on his mind... "Whenever you like. Just leave a message on my computer, or you cou--" What was he thinking, suggesting she come to his quarters. How stupid was he beginning to get? "Oh, how about we just meet in the mess hall?"

Cecily smiled shyly at Dwayne and nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Are you doing anything tomorrow around, say, noon?"

"Not a thing."

"Okay great! I'll see you then. Take care, Dwayne." Having finished an enduring enough workout for one night Torsten exited the ship's gymnasium but she stopped at the porthole to turn and look over at Sanchez. She waved goodbye, a smile on her face. "Don't forget about tomorrow now!" Cecily teased.

A crooked grin crossed over his face. He was beginning to wonder if this girl liked him for more than as a friend. Then he stopped himself and said to himself, Don't be stupid. Then he went back to his workout.

---

"An Encounter at the Beach"
by Hank McGraw
and Ainsley Chambers

Location: Risan Beach
Stardate 57907.10 21h30

***

Ainsley walked barefooted along the beach, watching the sun touch the water on the horizon as it set. It was another beautiful night in paradise. She thought about the last couple days and the people she had spent time with, specifically Mason and Jackson, and sighed. She liked them both very much.

She stepped towards the water and ran her toes through it. She hadn't been in the water in a few days. She wondered briefly if there were any night dives going on tonight.

Hank stood at the edge of the pavement where it met the sand. He had rented a storage space for his bags and the key hung around his neck on a cord. He had a few hours to kill so he decided that the beach would be the best bet for a little R and R.

There were hundreds of people sprinkled across the sands; some were lounging on chairs, some just lay about in the sand. Many were wearing beachwear, a few were wearing less than what Hank thought decent, and that wasn't much.

He gaped at passersby like a fish out of water.

Ainsley decided to go and check and see if there were any dives taking place. She secured the short wrap around her waist and then made her way towards the board walk. As she approached she saw a man standing, watching the people on the beach with obvious awe. "First time on Risa?" she asked with a grin.

Hank blinked at the young woman in front of him and realized he was probably gaping and shrugged.

"Yes," he said, adjusting his hat, hoping it hid the fact he was as red as a tomato, mostly from embarrassment but there was a touch of sunburn involved, "it's also my first time seeing this much exposed flesh in one place." He extended his hand and smiled.

"Dr. Hank McGraw."

She shook his hand firmly. "Ainsley Chambers," she responded. "Nice to meet you, doctor!"

She looked around at the people on the beach. "If you think this is bad you should see some of the other beaches. Most are clothing optional, some have signs saying clothing not allowed!"

"Glad I didn't bump into one of those." Hank whistled through his teeth and blinked in surprise. "Chambers?" He cocked his head to one side. "Like Counselor Chambers from the Sulu?"

She looked at him with a little confusion. How did he know who she was? She was sure that he was not a current doctor on the Sulu. "Yes, that's me. Didn't know I was that famous," she finished with a grin.

"I read your name on the roster during my flight here from Earth." He folded his arm and pretended not to look at a passing Risan woman who only had a few cloth strips over the most revealing places and even the strips were skimpy.

He looked at her and shrugged again. "I read a lot of things on the flight. Did you know that if a shuttle were to crash you can use its cushion for a flotation device?" He shook his head like it was an amazing concept. "I started reading the warning labels on the shuttle when I ran out of books, you know."

"You were reading the roster, so that means that you're assigned to the Sulu?" she asked.

He nodded and looked away from the half naked beach combers and focused on the counselor's face. "Yes indeedy doo," he said, shrugging. "Medical department. I'm a virologist, of sorts." He pursed his lips, wondering if that was exactly the right term for him. "I'll more than likely be on bedpan duty, but hey," he laughed, "someone has to do it right?"

"That's the way the old saying goes anyway!" she responded with soft laugh. "How long have you been on Risa?"

He looked up at the sun then to his bare wrist and thought a moment. "Twenty minutes."

"Really? That's all?" Ainsley replied with a smile. "Well then you've barely even had a chance to see the pleasure planet. Do you participate in any sports, doctor?"

"No not really." He thought a moment. "I mean not really. I've been here for a few hours and well not really." He frowned, "That second one is in reference to your second question." He rubbed his chin and looked confused. "I think."

Ainsley face mirrored his confusion. "So you've actually been on the planet for a few hours, and you don't play any sports?" At his nod Ainsley continued on. "Well that's still not long enough to even see a fraction of what's offered here. You sure you don't play any sports? Are there any you want to try?"

"Yes." He looked at a woman wearing only a smile and carrying a surfboard and shook his head as though clearing it. "No. Yes and No. Yes, I'm sure, and no I don't." He took off his boot and held up his foot. "Bad arches you see and my back gives out on me if I get too crazy." He stuffed his foot back in the shoe. "But I do play a mean game of cribbage and my checkers ain't too bad either if I do say so myself."

Ainsley nodded with a smile. "You'll probably like the casinos that are all over the place here." This one was going to be interesting.

Hank held up a hand and shook his head.

"I don't believe in gambling." He hopped around on one foot trying to get his foot back into his boot. "I find games of chance to be quite...." He hopped the wrong way and went down on his rear.

He looked up and smiled sheepishly. "What was I saying?"

Ainsley grinned down at him and offered her hand to help him up. "You were telling me what you think of games of chance." She wasn't quite sure what the good doctor would be able to find interesting on Risa. He could spend his time in his room playing cribbage and checkers but what fun would that be?

He thanked her for the hand up and brushed sand off of his posterior.

"Games of chance are by far merely an attempt by a sentient being to risk things. Some people find it invigorating to take risks and come out on top based on the proverbial roll of the dice." He retrieved his boot yet again and sat down to place it back on his foot. "I myself have always been a firm believer in the sure thing. I find the greater risk I take the more I pay for it in the long run." He frowned at himself as thoughts of his quarantine, long thought buried, bubbled from the depths of his mind.

His foot was firmly in his boot and he hopped up to his feet and held up his hands. "Sorry, that was a little heavy huh?"

Ainsley grinned then. "That's ok. I'm a philosophy major and a counselor, I'm used to heavy stuff. So you're not into sports or gambling. What do you do for fun, Doctor?"

"Fun?" He rubbed his chin. "I listen to music, sometimes to really kick things into high gear I'll get good and liquored up and break out a guitar and try to sing Creedence Clearwater Revival songs." He shrugged, "In all honesty I'm quite dull and for the most part try and stay that way. I've had all the excitement any one man should in my life and am looking forward to the tedium serving on a starship has to offer." He laughed and smiled, "Maybe if I luck out they'll give me Gamma shift in sickbay. I could catch up on my crossword puzzles."

"Creedence Clearwater Revival?" Ainsley asked. "I don't know them." A loner, that's what this man was. It was odd cause as she spoke with him now she never would have guessed it.

Hank chuckled. "Not surprising they've been dead for a few hundred years." He adjusted the shoulder straps of his bags and pointed to the refreshment tent on the edge of the beach. It was a big billowy thing with red and black panels.

"Would you like a cold drink? I've been standing here sweating like a prostitute in church and your slow roasting out here in the sun." He motioned with his head towards the tent.

Ainsley looked around. "Sure, sounds good to me." They began walking towards the tent that he had indicated. "So you're into old music then?"

Hank nodded and pulled a PADD containing some of his favorite selections out of a leg pocket and handed it to her. "It's a hobby."

Ainsley took the PADD and skimmed over it. She recognized a few names that were legends even to that day. The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Beach Boys. But there were many others that the had never heard of Five Man Electrical Band, Herman's Hermits, The Village People, The Beegees, Blondie, Queen, KISS, 10CC.

"Wow, I've never heard of most of these bands. When are they from?" She handed the PADD back to him.

Hank took the PADD back and stuffed it in a random pocket. "Mostly middle to late twentieth century."

They walked to the tent and took a seat at a bar located inside.

"Do you have Earth drinks here?" Hank asked the bar tender who was wearing only a skimpy pair of swimming trunks.

The man nodded.

"I'll have a glass of vodka with one ice cube and a shot of grenadine for color." He placed a strip of latinum on the bar and inclined his head towards his companion. "And whatever she's having."

Ainsley ordered a margarita and they chatted some more.

---

"Just The Trick"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer
Ensign Vincent (VT) Chan - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.10, 23h25

***

Natalia and Domenic were strolling on the beach. The Risan sands were warm and the suns were on the edge of the horizon, threatening to set anytime now. She walked beside her son, kicking sand between her toes and enjoying the feel of the cool breeze. She wore a swim suit - a single red body sheath that set off her figure admirably - it made her dark tan and dark features glow. Domenic was in a pair of board shorts and wore a t-shirt around his waist. He was absently picking up shells and tossing them into the surf as they walked.

There was no one about. Natalia had edited them from the program. They were on holodeck two, enjoying a standard access program of Risa that was in the crew leisure files.

"You really loved Risa didn't you?" she asked with a grin.

"You bet!" Domenic's mood had lightened considerably when Natalia had brought him to the holodeck. "It was great...." He skipped another shell. "I miss my mates though...."

"And the girls?" Natalia laughed when he gave her a rolling eyed look and a scowl.

"Still hate girls huh?" She teased him. For the last three years girls had been the enemy.

"No...." he smiled and blushed. "I got a girlfriend...." He pulled a face when Natalia reacted with mock surprise. "She was nice...and she kissed nice too."

"Domenic!" Natalia laughed - so he had been experimenting on Risa! "You're too young to be thinking about girls! Let alone kissing them!"

"Moooomm." He laughed and ran into the surf and back again as if being chased by a wave. He splashed cool water in an arc with his foot and she skipped backward avoiding it.

She gave a brief thought to her own experiences on Risa. Her night with Mason...it still made her feel slightly guilty at giving in to those pleasures - but God he'd been perfect! What a night.... She put it out of her mind again for the hundredth time! Domenic was looking at her with a look of suspicion. She'd been smiling dreamily.

"I've arranged for you to take your school lessons in our quarters," she said quickly, changing the subject. "You can use the holodecks for your practical lessons and for exercise. I'll check with Lieutenant Tagliesh to see if you can do some work in the labs too. You can eat in the mess hall too if you like. You have the free run of most of the ship - but you have to stay out of everyone's way while they perform their duties okay?"

He nodded. "Can I use the holodecks for other stuff?" He turned an eager face to his mom.

"Sure...as long as the computer allows you an allocation. You'll be given the same credit allowance as any other member of the crew." She gave him a grin. He liked that idea. "I'm also going to have a chat with the senior counselor - she will be someone you can talk to besides me if you have anything you're worried about - especially if I'm on duty. You can't come up to the Bridge - that's strictly off limits - and I don't want you getting in the way of any of the senior crew okay?"

"Okay...okay!" He danced around her - playing with a stone as if it were a football.

She was reaching for him when the computer voice cut into their frolicking. "Red Alert. Holodeck session terminated. All hands to Battle stations."

The holodeck grid replaced the sands and surf of Risa and both Druschev's stared at each other non-plussed. The first impact shook the whole deck and Domenic fell heavily. Natalia screamed out as her son went sprawling away from her. She almost followed him but she used her hands to balance against the floor. The Arch opened automatically.

Domenic was on the floor - unhurt but surprised as the ship rocked again. "Come on!" she screamed reaching out for him. "We've got to get to quarters..." She grabbed his hands and lifted and in her fear for him, she lifted him clear into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her neck as she started to run. Dressed in a bright red swim suit she would look a sight in the middle of a Red Alert. It was Beta shift and she hadn't been assigned to anything during this period as Domenic's presence allowed her family time. She wondered what was going on - the ship was in orbit around Risa for Gods sake!

***

Glancing down at his watch Vincent saw that it was almost midnight. He frowned. He had spent more time than he had expected in the holodeck. Vincent had been playing in one of the numerous go-karting programs he had brought on board with him. Brushing his hands against his racing coveralls, Vincent swung a towel around his neck. The door gave a soft hiss as he left the holodeck. He had begun to walk back to his quarters when the blare of alarm klaxons surrounded him, and as Vincent looked around in confusion, the corridors and decks were bathed in a dim red light. Instantly he knew what this meant. The ship was under attack.

The ship rocked with the first impacts.

Suddenly out of the nearest doorway a woman stumbled out, cradling a boy. The woman looked familiar to Vincent. It took a couple of seconds before he recognised her as a lieutenant and science officer, who worked on the same shift as he did. What was her name again? Was it Lieutenant Draker? Drukev? Druschev? It didn't matter what her name was, it looked liked she was in trouble so Vincent rushed over to help.

Natalia ran out into the corridor with Domenic held tightly in her arms. As the ship rocked again she stumbled and almost fell. A hand grabbed her before she hit the wall and Domenic screamed. He was heavy but she wouldn't let him go. She turned as a man held them both until the motion stopped. "Thank you," she said thickly. "What's happening?" The man was Asian by looks - dark eyes and short cropped hair.

"I don't know, Lieutenant," Vincent replied. Even though they were off duty and she was wearing a bathing suit, he thought it best to stick to formality. He looked down at the child. Her son? He wasn't sure. Vincent could see that he was scared.

Vincent was on the verge of panic. He had never been through an attack before. He reached out with his free hand to steady himself as the ship rocked again. Vincent swore. He couldn't go on like this; one hand supporting a superior officer and her son, the other against the arc ledge, and without a single idea as to what was going on. Glancing up and down the corridor for a comm terminal he failed to see one. The child was starting to cry now. He pushed all other thoughts aside as training took over.

"We've got to get him to a safe place," Vincent said. "Your quarters?"

Natalia nodded. "Deck three," she said. They were on deck four and a turbo-lift was at the far end of the corridor. "Where are you supposed to be? Where's your battle station?" she asked as they started down the corridor.

"I'm meant to be in Science department's main sensors room," Vincent replied. "But I think it would be better if I stayed here with you. Besides," Vincent added, "I'm probably not needed."

Vincent couldn't help but smile at the thought of around half-a-dozen science officers crammed into the small scanner room. Though it was true that the bridge science station handled a lot of the scanners, the sensor room handled everything else and with all that equipment in there it was always a tight fit. It reminded him of a saying, "How many elephants can you get in a Volkswagen Beetle?" He had no idea what a Volkswagen was or what they had to do with Terran insects but still...

Vincent wrenched his mind back to the present. The corridor was still bathed in the red light but he could manage to make out several dark figures running around the place. The sound of startled voices and shouts added to the cacophony of the siren. The sound of heavy boots came from behind them.

Three security officers ran past them at a dead run. They were headed for the torpedo bay. Natalia felt panicked - not for herself, but for Domenic. She clung to him as she walked quickly - she couldn't risk running and falling. Another hit grazed the Sulu's shields.

The lights went out. Vincent swore again.

Emergency lighting came on a moment later - small strips of dim light showing ceiling orientation in case of gravity failure. They kept going - past the access hatches for the Emergency Evacuation Pods to the turbo-lift.

They had to wait. Domenic was getting really heavy, and Natalia had to put him down. She knelt as she released him and he didn't want to let her go at first. "Dom - everything's okay - we're fine." He stared at her through welling tears. She wiped his face with a hand and gave him a smile. Taking his hand she stood and turned to her companion and said, "I'm Natalia..." She didn't recognize his face - she'd only been on the Sulu a day or so. Domenic just stared at the other science officer, silent as he gripped his mother's hand. The sounds of running feet and the red alert klaxon still sounded.

"I'm Vincent," he said. Then he smiled, "You can call me V.T though, everyone does." Vincent looked down at the child. He seemed so calm...calmer than Vincent at least. But the child still had the look of fear in his eyes.

"What's his name?"Vincent asked.

"It's Domenic." Natalia smiled down at her son and he didn't acknowledge her. That worried her.

Vincent knelt down and looked at Domenic. Yep, he thought, the kid's scared. An idea struck him.

"Hey, Domenic," Vincent said. "Do you want to see a really cool trick?"

Domenic just looked at him. He frowned slightly but didn't say a word.

Vincent reached behind Domenic's ear and pulled out a replicator chip. This trick had always worked in getting a laugh from kids. Vincent remembered how he used to pull this trick on all his little cousins back home on Earth.

Domenic looked unimpressed. In fact his frown deepened. "That's really lame!" he said after a few seconds. "You suck!"

How do I get out of this one? Vincent thought. Then the lift door opened. He wouldn't have to find a way out after all.

Natalia looked down at her son and said, "Dom!" with a touch of shock - she smiled thankfully at Vincent as she pulled Domenic into the lift. "Don't be rude!"

"Well - it sucked. That wasn't a trick - he just had it hidden in his hand the whole time! Honestly grown-ups must think kids are stupid!" He cast a side-long glance at Vincent. Natalia covered her smile with a hand and winked at the science officer. She felt a little uncomfortable dressed for the beach in a turbo lift with a stranger in the middle of a red alert crisis.

"Deck three," Natalia said. As the lift started moving she looked across at Vincent and said, "Thank you - for helping. I'll be okay..." She looked down at Domenic. "We'll be okay - you'd better get to your Battle station."

With a sudden inspiration Vincent turned to Domenic. He knew that though the kid looked small the child really was mature and adultlike. Vincent became determined to befriend him. There probably weren't any other kids on board...and Vincent was immature, and had plenty of hologames, that he was eager to share with someone.

"Say, Domenic, I've got a couple of games that we could play together. Do you like soccer? Or maybe go-karting?"

Domenic raised an eyebrow. Soccer? Go-Karting? He cracked a smile. "Sure - I've got a cool surfing program."

Vincent turned to Natalia. "Maybe Domenic could come over and play around with me sometime? Is that alright?"

Natalia shrugged. "If that's okay - I guess it's up to Domenic." She looked down at Domenic and he gave her a grin and a nod. Something about his grin told her there would be some kind of trouble in store for the friendly Vincent - but she put that aside. Domenic was still frightened, but it had taken the calmness of VT to show him that it was okay. Natalia couldn't thank the man enough for taking the time with Domenic. She gave the scientist a nod. "Sure," she said with a smile. "I think I'd like that too..."

Vincent couldn't help but admit it. He liked the kid. Was it the directness of the kid's earlier response to his little trick? Or maybe he was reminded of himself. The ship rocked again as a phaser grazed the shields. This snapped Vincent's mind back to present. He saw the Druschevs off at Deck Three, before ordering the lift to go to Deck Seventeen and his battlestation.

---

"Showdown"
by Lieutenant Sam
Lieutenant Saavar
Ensign Taylor Bennett
Crewman Shyla Moreau
Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Space around Risa
Stardate 57907.10, 23h30

***

Duty Officer's Log. Stardate 57907.10. Lieutenant Sam reporting.

Despite our presence at the peaceful planet of Risa, the Sulu remains at yellow alert. Captain Salinger is still recovering from injuries sustained at the hand of an assassin, and Commander Lyrr has taken over his position in discussions with the Farehn'ti. Our investigations into the murder of Dalil V'ril and the attack on Captain Salinger have turned suspicion toward the Farehn'ti. Proof of their involvement still has not been determined. However, Commander Lyrr, Ensign Farrell, and the Ferengi, Malthus, have devised a plan to act as bait for the assassin.

We have been monitoring them from the ship, and as yet, there have been no attempts to confront them. We continue to wait.

Sam shut down the recorder, and checked ship's status once more. There had still been no change. They would continue to wait.

Saavar was monitoring the science station lateral array sensors. A sub-space sweep was conducted at all three sites designated by commander Lyrr to be areas in which the assassin may strike. The computer was tasked to sweep each area ten times a second. This did not interfere with normal ship's sensor operations and was sufficient in Saavar's mind to provide advanced warning of any attack.

He sat back and looked across the Bridge, his eyes passing flight control, command and operations to tactical. It was routine, nothing amiss yet, although the very air of the Bridge seemed to be full of anticipation. Commander Lyrr expected an attack tonight - and the trap had been laid as Saavar had suggested. He was pleased that the Commander trusted his judgement; she was far easier to work with than Lieutenant Tagliesh. He went back to scanning the systems and waiting.

The tactical station indicated no changes in the situation on the planet below. Taylor Bennett cycled through the various sensor feeds, and hoped that nothing happened. As much as they needed to catch the murderers, she hoped that nothing happened to those being used as bait on the planet below. There was too much room in the situation for something to go wrong. She glanced around the bridge, allowing herself to relax. She used some of the techniques her mother had taught her, easing both her mental and physical distress brought on by the anxiety of waiting...for the other shoe to drop.

The strident beeping of the lateral array grid brought Saavar to examine the sensor sweep. The computer had already been tasked to set in motion a chain of events should a transporter signature matching the previous energy readings appear within the locations under constant watch.

He took only a moment to pin-point the location as the computer was already triangulating the direction of the transporter carrier wave. The grid reference was numerical, and though Saavar, and certainly Lieutenant Sam could determine the location by pure numerics, the bridge crew would not. Saavar nodded and turned to Sam.

"Lieutenant Sam," he called out to gain the Watch Commander's attention. "Sensors are detecting a transporter signature matching the energy pattern specified. Triangulation indicates an orbital rather than planetary source. I would suggest Astrometrics sensors be tasked immediately along the indicated path." He looked back at the sensor readings. "Arc of path is three degrees from terminator and six degrees of latitude - approximately nine thousand six hundred and seven point eight seven two kilometers to port."

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," Sam said. He called up the information on the monitor set into the armrest of the command chair. He turned to the backup science station---currently configured for Astrometrics data gathering---where Shyla Moreau was still working on tracing the substance. "Crewman Moreau," he said, "please scan the coordinates provided by Lt. Saavar."

"Aye, sir," Moreau said, very nearly grinning in spite of the gravity of the situation. She had her station linked to Science One and had begun scanning the coordinates the minute Saavar's sensors had targeted the coordinates...well before Lieutenant Sam gave his official order. A few deft key taps narrowed the Astrometric sensors' scanning capacity to the path. Soon her console was beeping out its own tune.

"I'm reading trace elements of the substance along what appears to be an orbital path." Shyla turned back to Sam but kept a hand on her console. "Permission to overlay on main screen, sir?"

"Permission granted, Crewman," Sam said. He leaned forward in his place, intent on the new discovery they were making.

Moreau tapped her console without looking, keeping her eyes on the forward screen. A graceful arcing trail of computer generated red specks shimmered in along the path that Saavar had triangulated. Each speck represented a small measure of the substance identical to the one the Sulu had detected within the anomaly. As they watched, more specks appeared along the path looking somewhat like the tail of a slow-moving, invisible comet.

"Red Sands," Shyla said, more to herself than to anyone else.

Saavar raised a typical Vulcan brow. "Sir." He turned again to face Sam. "The data suggests a cloaked vessel. The Farehn'ti delegation admitted that our mysterious unidentified material was a substance produced by a warp imbalance of their drive systems. I speculate that the vessel has a Farehn'ti drive - however there is no indication in the Federation Database to suggest that the Farehn'ti have developed cloak technology." He looked up at the main screen. "If we were looking for a reason for the Cardassian Union to want the Farehn'ti as a Protectorate - cloak technology would be a good one."

Shyla shook her head. "Begging your pardon, sir, but that is simply not logical." She faltered a bit when Saavar turned to regard her with an emotionless stare, considering her choice of words. She soon recovered. "If that is a ship then it is definitely not at warp. It can't be a warp imbalance. I suspect that explanation was merely a cover story and that the residue is a byproduct of their cloaking technology."

"Sir," said Ensign Bennett from the tactical station, "it's moving." On the screen, it appeared that the pattern of red speckles shifted its course. Taylor made a quick calculation. "It appears to be on an intercept course." She was about to look to Lt. Sam for orders when the form displayed on the forward viewscreen and her tactical display lurched forward. The speckles of "red sand" on the screen resolved into a sleek and dangerous looking starship. "They're powering weapons!"

"Raise shields," Sam ordered. "Go to Red Alert."

Taylor Bennett's fingers flew across the tactical console, putting the ship to Red Alert and alerting the weaponry crews that it was time to get to work. Tactical information was fed to her station, giving her an instant assessment of the ship outside. The board was green and all systems were ready for the battle that appeared to be inevitable.

The comm chirped. "Sir," came the voice of Chief Riley, "shields are up. I can't beam anyone down to the commander with the shields up, sir."

"An unidentified vessel is about to fire on the Sulu, Chief Riley," Sam explained. "I will notify you when we have a window of opportunity with which to beam the security team to the surface."

"Aye, sir," Riley said. "We'll be ready here, sir."

"Bridge out," Sam said. His attention had never left the forward viewer. Two spheres of coalesced purple energy closed the distance between the two ships quickly, and slammed into the Sulu's shields. The ship lurched hard to port, throwing anyone not holding on to the deck. A quick status check showed shield strength down to seventy-five percent. Whatever the attacking ship was using was, without a doubt, powerful. "Ensign Bennett, return fire. Target their engines with phasers. Helm, evasive pattern Alpha-Salinger-Two."

"Aye, sir," Taylor answered. "Returning fire." Arcs of phaser fire lanced out toward the other ship, grazing shields and illuminating it in a glow of deadly energy.

"Alpha-Salinger-Two, aye," Lt. McKenzie replied. The inertial dampeners compensated for the sudden pattern of evasive maneuvers the flight control officer sent the ship through. He'd certainly give whoever was trying to open them up to space a difficult target.

A re-evaluated threat assessment poured into Taylor Bennett's station and she knew this was going to be a tough fight. More phaser fire danced across their opponent's shields. "Shields at seventy percent," she announced as more of the enemy's weapons caught their ventral surface. "They're holding though."

Saavar lurched against the science station. Luckily he was at a seated console and he was only shaken by the initial blast from the weapons of the adversarial vessel. His fingers danced on his systems, sending out probing sensor lances at specific locations of the target vessel. Weapons and shields were taking a drain on the Sulu's available power and he used what he had to the best advantage. "Enemy vessel has sustained only light damage," he called out. "Their weapons are similar to Romulan plasma torpedoes - they are charging again. Brace for impact!"

Shyla gripped her console with white knuckles as another blast rocked the Sulu. Moreau was completely terrified but she went about punching in key codes between the volleys, sending stellar analysis to Bennett's tactical station. About the only use Astrometrics had in a battle situation was either supplying tactical with local stellar phenomena that might be exploited in battle or providing flight control with navigational information should escape become necessary. Even as she did these duties, she was still focused on the residue.

"Sir?" she shouted out over the blaring klaxon, not caring which 'sir' answered.

Sam watched the tactical data being fed to him from the console in the arm of his chair. "Go ahead, Crewman," he said, casting a brief glance in Moreau's direction.

"Assuming that the substance is..." -- Moreau's voice was drowned out as a near miss rocked the Bridge -- "...duct of their cloak, couldn't we do some reverse engineering on it? If their weapons and shield systems utilize similar technology, maybe we can figure out a way to neutralize them."

"Do you feel it within your capabilities to work on such a solution, Crewman," Sam asked as he sent updated data to the tactical station. "Mr. McKenzie, alter course to three seven four mark two. Engage evasive pattern Alpha-Salinger-Six. Crewman Moreau?"

"Aye, sir," Shyla said, turning back to her station without a clear notion of where to begin. Still, she added, "I'm on it," and began to tap the keys at her station at a frantic pace.

Saavar raised an eyebrow at the young Human's audacity. To attempt to reverse engineer anything would take more time than the battle would conceivably give them. Considering the starting point - the substance that had remained unidentifiable to Federation science thus far - what did they have to go on but extrapolations that could do more harm than good? He tried to imagine how he might assist her attempt within the time-frame. The Vulcan aspect of his personality told him it was illogical - a similar accusation that she had made about his previous observations given available facts; whether those facts were true or false - that depended upon the truthfulness of the Farehn'ti and he was doubting that now. The only thing he could do was utilize the tools at his disposal.

He requested a boost in power from operations and set parameters for a dense sub-space probe scan of the enemy vessel. He targeted power systems and main engineering and sent the pulse at what he could only extrapolate as their shield frequency. If he could determine that rotational frequency of the shield modulation he would be able to give tactical a window to the Farehn'ti vessel. It would take time, but he relayed his sensor reads directly to tactical and the science station at the rear of the Bridge.

"Thaine to Bridge." The Chief Engineer's voice came through the comm-channel, with more than a hint of warning in it. The engineer didn't wait for a response before continuing, wasting no time. "Lieutenant, one more good hit on the forward lower hull, 'till we get the backups up, and we may lose sensors."

"Understood, Lieutenant," Sam answered. "Lt. McKenzie is doing an admirable job in remaining out of the path of enemy weapons' fire, however appearances would indicate that our adversary's weaponry officer is highly skilled. I would recommend expediting your efforts to get backups online; in the meantime, divert all available power to the shields."

"Understood. Thaine out." The comm-link to engineering ended.

McKenzie wasn't paying attention to Sam's comments, and ran through another series of evasive maneuvers that helped keep most of the pulsing weapons from finding the Sulu. A few shots, however, found their mark. The ship lurched hard, tossing bridge officers about.

Phasers and photon torpedoes fired, streaking off toward the attacking ship. The Sulu lurched again as the unknown assailant launched another barrage of weapons fire. Taylor braced herself against her station and held tight as the deck rolled beneath her. She only wished it reminded her of the motion made by the sailing ships her father had told her about. This was something different, more like the rough and violent shifting of an earthquake.

Damage assessment reports scrolled over her screen and she frowned at the results. It appeared that the enemy was targeting a specific location. She ran a quick check and her frown deepened. Another series of blasts rocked the ship and she turned to Lt. Sam. "Sir," she said, as she launched another salvo and followed it with phasers, "they have targeted the section of our secondary hull that houses the primary tactical EPS nodes..." She let the words trail off, knowing the ship's android operations manager would pick up on the significance.

"Strengthen shields in that area," Sam said. "Keep that section of the ship out of our opponent's line of fire as much as possible, Mr. McKenzie."

"Aye, Lieutenant," came the flight control officer's response.

The ship shook once more as, again, the enemy's attack found its target. Alert lights flared on every board as damage reports started flowing in. Ensign Hobbs turned from the Operations station. "We have hull breaches on decks seven through nine. Casualty reports are coming in."

"Dispatch engineering and medical teams," Sam ordered. "Helm, evasive pattern Picard-Delta-Epsilon. Ensign Bennett, prepare a full spread of photon torpedos, pattern Omega-Three." A jolt shuddered through the ship again, but the crew, now used to the rolling and shaking of battle, held their places.

That was when Shyla Moreau's station exploded in a shower of sparks.

Shyla had continued to work at her console at a fevered pitch throughout the battering of the Sulu and had fortunately just turned away when it took that last hit. Still, the impact threw her out of her chair to the deck and when she pushed herself to her feet, she felt an instantaneous sharp pain in her side. She stumbled up to the command chair and leaned heavily on the arm.

"The substance..." she began, gasping for air and wincing at pain.

"Go ahead, Crewman," Sam said, not taking his attention away from the battle.

"Before it's transported, it's something akin to alumina silicate. But after, it's more like magnesium nitrate, only more unstable. Potentially explosive."

Sam gave a terse nod. "Continue."

"We can configure the shields to allow our bussard collectors to collect the substance." Shyla pointed to the screen. The substance was still represented by shimmering red dots in the overlay that no one had bothered to delete. "We use the transporters to beam it into a segregated chamber in the ramscoop and then we flush the BC system of the mutated substance and excess hydrogen. That--"

"--will produce an explosive substance that can be emitted in a cloudlike formation, and thus ignited using our phasers. If our timing is precise, we should be able to catch our adversary within the cloud."

"Aye, sir," Shyla said with a satisfied nod, but her face stayed troubled. "However, there are risks..." She trailed off and turned to Saavar, the senior officer being more qualified to access those risks.

Saavar looked over his shoulder at the Crewman First Class who was decidedly setting herself above her station. He looked across the Bridge at Sam and said, "Sir - Crewman Moreau's tactical skills aside, there is clearly insufficient particle density to cause any appreciable damage to the vessel's shields, however an attempt to transport the substance into our own drives could conceivably cripple the Sulu. I would suggest that a spread of photon torpedoes would be a more appropriate response to the Farehn'ti attack."

Shyla turned back to Lieutenant Sam, biting her lower lip and bowing her head. She disagreed with Lieutenant Saavar but didn't quite have the nerve to say it out loud again. In the last day and a half, she'd spent nearly twenty-four full hours doing nothing but staring at the substance and its chemical makeup while she scanned for more of it in the system. Still, it was hard to simply ignore Saavar and his superior experience - she knew her suggestion was risky. Shyla looked to Sam from under her lowered eyes and was glad it wasn't her decision to make.

Sam looked to Saavar. "Lieutenant, are you certain there is a minimal chance of success in Crewman Moreau's plan? What would you estimate our chance of success in such an endeavour to be?"

Saavar nodded. "The premise of this plan relies on the Sulu dropping shields in the middle of a battle to transport a quantity of gaseous material that is spread over sixteen point nine three thousand kilometers - beaming that material into our drive chambers and then expelling it from the Bussard collectors. I would estimate that the Sulu's shields would have to be dropped for a total of thirty seven point eight four seconds to accomplish this - meanwhile the enemy vessel will not likely cooperate with our endeavour by not firing at us during this window of opportunity. The substance is highly volatile after transport - but it does dissipate rapidly. Combat maneuvers are fluid - there is no certainty that the Farehn'ti vessel will attack us on the aft quarter, nor are they likely to enter a cloud of gas which their own sensors would be aware exists. The chance of success in this endeavour is impossible to estimate - it relies on too many uncertainties." In other words Saavar would not guess.

Shyla opened her mouth to speak but then snapped it shut again. She obviously disagreed.

Sam cocked his head to the side and regarded the Vulcan science officer. "Based on your variation on Crewman Moreau's plan, I would estimate chances of success at thirteen point seven three seven five zero two four percent. However, following Crewman Moreau's plan for collecting the substance, our shields will not require lowering. Ensign Bennett, configure our shields to allow the Bussard Collectors to gather the substance emitted from the enemy vessel." The beeping of Taylor Bennett's console indicated she was doing so. Sam opened a channel to the torpedo bays and transporter room three. "This is Lt. Sam. We will be acquiring a large quality of particulate matter through our Collectors. Chief Riley, on my signal you will perform a site-to-site transport of the material gathered in both port and starboard Bussard Collectors. Chief Daniels, the material shall be loaded into torpedo casings. Deactivate the proximity charges, they will be detonated from the bridge. Utilize dispersal pattern Zeta-Seven."

Both men acknowledged his orders. "Tactical and Flight Control, buy us the time we will require to facilitate this endeavour," he said, then turned to Crewman Moreau. "Begin collecting the material."

"Aye, sir," Shyla said to Lieutenant Sam as she spun on her heel, her face a mixture of excitement and misgivings. On her way to a free station, a particularly nasty hit made the Bridge lurch violently but Shyla kept her feet. She slid into the chair and began to configure the ramscoops for material collection. She avoided looking at Lieutenant Saavar.

On the main screen, the perspective shifted as the Sulu moved into the former orbital path of the Farehn'ti vessel. The red specks now filled the screen as they were being collected into the ramscoops. As Saavar had predicted the enemy ship moved behind them, trying to fall in behind the Sulu and get in a few shots on the aft shields.

"Shields at twenty percent," came the call.

"Reroute all non-essential systems to power for the shields," Sam ordered. "Ensign Bennett, aft torpedos, fire."

The torpedos streaked away and slammed into the enemy shields. There was no effect. Ensign Bennett and Lt. McKenzie's efforts were commendable, but the aggressive assault of their opponent was nearly more than the Sulu's systems could take Somehow, though, they managed to not only keep the ship intact, but the enemy at bay.

Sam turned to the science station where Moreau was monitoring the gathering of the substance. "Crewman?"

"A few more seconds, sir," Moreau answered, intent on her work. The Sulu needed to collect enough of the substance to generate a sufficient payload. She looked at the precious seconds ticking away on the chronometer, knowing that only a few more solid hits might leave the ship without shields.

Moreau's console beeped and she tapped a few keys in reply. She turned to Sam and grinned, forgetting the peril for the moment. "Collection is complete, sir. The material is ready for transport."

Sam opened a channel to transporter room three. "Chief Riley, initiate transport."

"Aye, sir," Riley answered. There were several tense moments of waiting, while the ship continued to be buffeted by enemy attacks. Then finally, Riley spoke up again, "Contents of the Ramscoops are transported, sir."

"Thank you, Chief," Sam answered. "Chief Daniels, notify me as soon as the torpedos are ready for use."

"Aye aye, Lieutenant," Daniels said. "Just be a moment or two, sir."

It turned out to be three, but Daniels did notify the bridge that the torpedos were primed and ready to go.

"Crewman Moreau," Sam asked as he glanced between Bennett and Moreau, "while Ensign Bennett continues to fire phasers, you will target the torpedos and fire them. Proximity charges have been disabled and the weapons will require manual detonation. Is this a task you feel capable of handling, or would you prefer that Ensign Bennett target and fire your torpedos?"

Moreau felt like everyone on the Bridge was looking at her and she imagined that she could especially feel Savaar's intense Vulcan eyes. "Ensign..." --Shyla choked on the word-- "Ensign Bennett should do the targeting and firing, sir," she said, her voice suddenly small and unsure.

Without sparing a moment, Sam returned his attention to the forward viewer. "Ensign Bennett, targeting pattern Omega-omega. Fire when ready. As soon as torpedo dispersal is at optimal range, fire all phasers."

Taylor quickly slaved the new torpedos to her station and brought up all the data she'd need for them. As the enemy ship came around again, still firing, she targeted per Lt. Sam's instructions, and fired. "Torpedos away!"

As the torpedos sped toward their target, the other ship tried to juke out of the way. They didn't move fast enough, and Ensign Bennett's hands reacted with lightning quickness when Sam ordered, "Now."

A blue phosphorescent glow surrounded the other ship as the particles touched shields. Orange fire streaked from all of the Sulu's phaser banks, and the substances from the torpedos ignited, whiting out the viewscreen.

As the viewscreen returned to normal, Sam checked his status monitor. Were he human, he would have smiled. Instead, he merely nodded in acknowledgement of the results he was reading. As the enemy ship continued through their evasive pattern, Sam ordered for all weapons to commence firing. A quick calculation of their planned trajectory immediately set off a red alert in his positronic neural net. "Strengthen shields in quadrant---"

It was too late. Though the other ship's shields had been collapsed by their attack, they hadn't truly been evading, but merely lining up their shot. All available banks of beam weapons on the other ship fired, almost a mirror of the maneuver just pulled off by the Sulu and raked the ventral shields, weakening even further the already strained shields. Twin suns of plasma and energy streaked through space and tore into the weakened shields of the Sulu's underbelly. The ship lurched hard, sending all those not sitting, or already braced for impact, to the deck.

Sam was impressed at the speed and efficiency with which the crew recovered. "Helm, evasive maneuvers and keep them to our protected sides. Full spread of photon torpedos, Ensign. Fire."

Taylor Bennett was already targeting the enemy ship when she'd pulled herself back up to her station. Chairs would have been really nice. Chairs with seatbelts. And gyroscopic mounts. She quickly put the wishlist out of her mind and fired phasers and torpedos. At least, she told the ship to. Sulu had other ideas though. A quick diagnostic drained the color from her face. "Sir, it appears that all tactical systems are offline. Primary EPS relays are down. Engineering teams are already working on it."

Ensign Bennett's words brought the bridge to silence. All eyes turned to the image on the viewscreen. It would be a race between the Sulu's damage control teams to get the tactical EPS relays rerouted and their enemy's ability to come around again and finish them off.

"Ensign Bennett," Sam said, "as soon as you have tactical control, target their engines and fire."

"Aye, sir," she said. "I'll keep the weapons locked."

The ship swung around and came at the Sulu. It continued to grow on the forward viewer.

"What are they waiting for?" McKenzie asked.

No one answered.

A minute passed, and the ship kept moving closer. Sam watched the repair indicators as engineering struggled to get the tactical systems back online. The other ship drifted below the Sulu. There was a surge of power from the other ship, but it wasn't a weapons discharge.

"Sir," Ensign Hobbs called, "I'm detecting a transport."

"Location?"

"To...to the planet's surface, sir."

"Location?"

Hobbs frowned at his station. "It appears to be...Commander Lyrr's hotel room...sir."

"Lieutenant, the ship is heading out of the system. Now approaching full impulse. Exit vector oh seven three mark three."

Sam turned to the tactical station. "Status of weapons, Ensign?"

"Still down, sir," Taylor answered. "Engineering indicates just a few more minutes to finish bypassing the junction."

"Analyze their flight path, Crewman Moreau. Track them as best you can."

"Aye, sir." Shyla pulled up the Astrometrics readings from the surrounding systems and locked sensors onto the enemy vessel. As they went to warp, she hoped that they wouldn't go too far, too fast. If they did, she'd lose them.

Sam watched, helpless to do anything, as the ship vanished from the viewscreen. A moment later, Ensign Bennett announced that partial tactical capabilities had been restored.

"Shall I lay in a pursuit course, sir?" Lt. McKenzie asked.

"Negative, Lieutenant," Sam answered. "Stand down from red alert. Begin contacting our people on the surface and ascertain their condition. All damage control teams should continue working on affected systems; tactical systems are the priority."

As the crew set to work, Sam moved to the Astrometrics station and peered over Shyla Moreau's shoulder. The results displayed on her station appeared to confirm the theory he had devised: the vessel's course would lead them directly to the planet Farehn. The Farehn'ti appeared to be much stronger than they had led the Federation to believe. Hypothesizing on what would come of the encounter they had just taken part in was not part of Sam's programming, but he was certain that if he could experience emotions, he would be feeling a sense of foreboding at the next encounter with the enigmatic species.

---

"Damage Control Party"
By: Crewman Emma Summers - Counselor & Medical Technician
Chief Engineer Mark Thaine

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.10, 23h30

***

The Red Alert Klaxon sounded. It was a strident call to the entire crew to assemble at Battle Stations. Alpha shift crew - or the best operators would be heading to the prime stations, Emma Summers was neither. She was a Newbie; a Rookie as far as the Sulu went. Still, she had more Starfleet training and experience than she had let on. She'd been an officer once - in a past life. Instincts like that were impossible to suppress.

She was assigned to a Damage Control Party as a roving medic and she rushed from her quarters with her emergency medical case slung over her shoulder. She was in uniform thankfully - she had just returned from the holodeck and it was late in the evening - in fact she'd been assigned to Gamma shift, so she was preparing to go on duty fairly soon. That wasn't going to happen.

Her assigned place was Engineering, and she ran for the Battle station with as much enthusiasm as every other member of the crew. She was a Starfleet Officer and her survival depended on everyone doing their jobs right now. Personal goals aside - they were no use to her if she was dead! Trepidation was rising in her gut anyway - Engineering was often the first target for any enemy vessel. It was the warp core that drew so much attention.

She made it to the turbo lift and crammed in with seven other crewmen who were making their way to their own stations. Worried faces and masks of determination and some of fear surrounded her. She could hear a whispered prayer and smirked. Gods had no place in her pantheon of beliefs. She believed in herself and the application of leverage and power.

The turbolift halted and she piled out with three others. She had no idea who else was assigned to DCP Twenty-five BE - but she was sure she'd meet them in Main Engineering. She would be under the instructions of the Chief Engineer for the moment - her role was medical, injured crew, triage, site-to site transport to sickbay - on the spot medical assistance. She would accompany several engineers, operations officers and security officers who were not scheduled to be on shift, and in off-duty hours were assigned Damage Control. If it had been shift time, Emma would have been assigned to Sickbay. She wished she had been that fortunate.

As she ran headlong into Main Engineering she could see that it was organized chaos. Her medical case separated her from other green emblazoned science personnel. The ship rocked violently as she entered the lower level and it literally threw her sideways as if she'd been tackled by a rugby full back at full tilt. She rolled with it, but it still knocked the wind out of her. She came up against a bulkhead hard and the impact hit her in the shoulder and face. Her arm was tangled in the medkit strap, luckily as her arm might have broken if she'd attempted to use it to stop. She lay stunned for a few seconds, pain and disorientation causing her to groan.

She heard a cry for assistance - the universal call for a medic. She looked up and managed to wipe her face - it felt wet and her hand came away with bright blood on it. The taste of it in her mouth was coppery and she grimaced as she climbed to her feet.

The Chief Engineer struck her as a man in the center of a storm. He was shouting orders and working at the master terminal. The warp core was giving out the thrum of power and the blue swirls within it were indicative of a high output. Emma could see a man looking across at her and waving urgently. A fallen crew member was a heap at his feet. It looked like someone had fallen off the upper level with the initial impact.

Everyone was holding on to something now. Bracing for further impacts. Emma had to make her way across the open space to the area behind the warp core stack. She ran. Uncertain of when the next hit would come, she dodged crew and came up to the Engineer. He was kneeling beside a woman who was obviously unconscious. He looked at Emma and she could see his eyes go to the cut on her head and the blood.

"Don't worry," she said, giving him a smile. "Get to your station - I'll take care of her." Giving orders came easy to her. The Ensign momentarily glanced at her insignificant rank stud but said nothing. He nodded, relieved that someone was there to handle a situation he was not equipped to cope with. He looked up at the upper gantry and started up the ladder, gripping the bars for all he was worth on the way up.

Emma Summers' medical training was more significant than just a med-tech would normally have. The initial assessment was obvious. The woman's arm was bent oddly - the hand had two fingers that were way out of shape. She'd landed on the outstretched arm and hit head first. Blood was seeping from a superficial wound, her nose was bleeding, but she was breathing and a fast check revealed her heart still beating strongly. Emma set to work - major traumas first. She'd need sickbay but she had to get her ready for transport. The head wound was primary. Her tricorder was flipped open and the medical sensor passed over her wound. It was superficial - no cranial fractures, a light cut that bled more than it had a right to and an egg sized bruise that was already evident. No intercranial damage, no deeper bruising of the grey matter. Good. No concussion. Her arm must have absorbed the brunt of the fall.

A check of her arm revealed a bad fracture - she had to apply force to pull the bone back beneath the skin and used the surgi-foam from her kit to create a temporary splint that would harden in a few seconds. She left the fingers alone and treated the bleeding. She administered a sedative to keep her under and a broad spectrum antibiotic to prevent secondary infections. A fast check of her again with the medical tricorder and she tapped her commbadge. "Summers to sickbay,"

"Aye," a harried voice replied. They were busy.

"I have a female, compound fracture left arm and broken fingers, superficial head injury - no indication of concussion, transmitting tricorder reading to medical now. She's stabilized, no internal damage, she's unconscious and I've sedated her with a ten cc tritorazine and given a BSA standard dose. Request secondary priority transport to sickbay." Emma's voice was steady and clear, even though the sounds around her indicated that the Sulu was indeed engaged in a battle. The ship rocked again with another impact. She braced the young crewman to prevent further damage. The red lights and alert klaxons just kept blaring. She worked in the middle of a heated situation - an island of calm in chaos.

"Aye aye," the voice answered, "we have a bed available now. Cleared for transport."

"Summers to Transporter one, medical emergency transport on my location to sickbay - one to go." She reached out and tapped the crewman's commbadge. It chirped, giving the transporter a lock-on signal. A second later the woman's still form began to dematerialized. She would arrive safely in sickbay and Emma turned her attention to her own head wound. Blood was running slowly down her cheek and it had already made a dreadful mess of her uniform. She wiped it away and used a dermal regenerator from her kit and sealed the wound. The rest would have to wait.

She pulled her hair out of her eyes and grabbed the rest of her kit. Her face was hurting, her cheek was sore and her shoulder hurt like hell. Other than that she'd live if the Sulu did... She hoped that Ben was at Tactical. She prayed that he was. She'd never known a Tactical Officer better than he - even if she did despise him and want him dead.

Someone was calling for assistance with an EPS grid that was showing the first signs of stress failure. Engineers hurried to re-route the plasma from the failing segment of the grid. Emma shuddered. She had seen an EPS fracture let go - on the Windsor. It had vaporized two crewmen and left one with no left arm and burns to ninety percent of her body. If the plasma escaped the temperature in the area it would reach flash point in milliseconds - the very air would combust. Fear gripped her as she watched in mute helplessness as the Engineers worked frantically. Part of her mind was amazed at their coolness under extreme pressure. They worked quickly, but it was like a dance of complex steps, four engineers working in total accord - synchronicity in action. The grid held long enough for them to change the flow. They didn't even have time to congratulate themselves before being ordered away to another section of the ship.

She found the Chief Engineer. As she stepped up to him he was giving instructions that were too technical for her to follow. He turned his attention to Emma, took in the bloodied sight of her and the medical kit she held up briefly to indicate she was a medic. "Crewman Summers - Damage Control Party... Where do you want me?"

"You look like hell," he told her simply, as the ship rocked again. Another engineer rushed up, looking all the worse for the wear of only a few minutes of battle. Thaine held up a hand to Summers to tell her to wait.

His observation was delivered in a flat tone that she immediately despised. The glint in his eyes told her he had a very dry sense of humor, but she didn't take it as funny - or even remotely so. She hid her reaction by turning away to look at the Engineering consoles as he talked to the other man. One day she just might show this ass-hole just what hell really looked like... The very thought of it made her smile just a little...

The man's eyes were wild, his hair a dishevelled mess, but he was doing his job at least as well as any other. "Sir, Damage Control Team Two reports sensors in the aft array are falling out of alignment. One of the computer processors got taken off-line."

Thaine replied without hesitation. "Get the backups online, and you get down to the damaged processor. See if you can get it working again. I hate relying on backups."

The man gave a nod, and hurried off. Thaine called after him, "Take some breathing equipment; those gel packs give off fumes if they set alight." He tapped his comm-badge, almost appearing to have forgotten the medical technician.

"Thaine to Bridge." He didn't wait for an answer; the problem was worse than he had suggested earlier. "Lieutenant," he continued briskly, "one more good hit on the forward lower hull, 'till we get the backups up, and we may lose sensors."

"Understood, Lieutenant," Sam answered. "Lt. McKenzie is doing an admirable job in remaining out of the path of enemy weapons' fire, however appearances would indicate that our adversary's weaponry officer is highly skilled. I would recommend expediting your efforts to get backups online; in the meantime, divert all available power to the shields."

Emma looked back when she had composed herself. Looking at the Chief Engineer with a mixture of interest and speculation. The Chief was a dark featured, sharp-faced man of bean-stalk proportions.

"Understood. Thaine out." Finally, the Chief turned to look at Summers, taking advantage of what seemed to be a lull in the storm. "Stay here, for now. That may change." He turned back to his station, adjusting something to do with the shield harmonics, though exactly what was lost upon the medic.

She nodded and said, "Aye, sir." Emma gave him a grim smile and curt nod.

It did. An engineer called out from the other side of Engineering. "Chief, we've got hull breaches on decks seven, eight and nine!"

Another cried out from up above; the engineer Emma had seen climb the ladder earlier. "Warp core fluctuations are starting to increase! Trying to stabilize..."

Thaine called up. "I'll go take a look! Send whatever damage control teams that aren't busy with sensors to join me. And make sure you keep those integrity fields online!" He looked to Emma, grabbing a slim tool kit from under a nearby console. "You're with me."

Not waiting to even see if she followed, obviously assuming she would, the Chief moved to the nearest access port to the Jefferies tubes, situated in the wall near his current console.

Emma did follow him. She hated confined spaces and when he made to open the Jeffries tube, she clamped down on the abrupt rise of anxiety that gripped her. In the middle of a battle they were going into the very arteries of the ship. Confined spaces and ladders and tunnels that held the EPS grid loaded with plasma, dangerous gasses and combustible electronics... She began to tremble slightly and gripped the medical kit with tightened hands. Sweat broke out on her lip and brow as she watched him.

The port opened with a hiss, and Thaine clambered swiftly inside with a surprising degree of dexterity. He paused only to call to another engineer that they were in charge till he got back, and then vanished up the ladder.

The hole was large enough to crawl into. She took a step forward but stopped as the Chief Engineer called out and then vanished. Even a deep breath didn't help. She gritted her teeth and smashed down the impulse to just run. Medical officers weren't meant to be crawling inside dark holes and following stupid ass-holes into the guts of a ship in the middle of a full-on battle. She was truly scared - and that shook her up. She swore a very unlady-like phrase as she followed the Engineer. She had to back in and climbed up with her eyes closed.

As she perched on the ladder she looked up - to see the man scampering upward and opening the bulkhead doors in the ladder well. The vertigo was uncomfortable. It made her feel sick. Just a dark hole going upward under emergency lighting that showed only the ladder. She began to swear under her breath as she started up. The medical kit swung from its strap and banged the wall every step, but she concentrated on just feeling for the next step and allowing her hands to on-lock from the rungs. It was perhaps the most difficult thing she had ever done - and right then a bolt of energy smashed against the Sulu's shields making the ship lurch.

She screamed and clung to the ladder, almost falling as her feet lost traction. The vertigo came back like a vicious cramp. She was on the ladder and holding on for all she was worth - her scream echoed up the Jeffries tube like a wail of a lost child.

***

The access port for deck seven opened with a faintly off-putting clunk (the engineer made a mental note to look at that later), providing some light to the Jefferies tube. Still part of the engineering section, and containing the warp core injector access, deck seven held a critical part of the warp core. Coming through the tubes had been a short cut, and allowed him to get an estimate on the damage on the way up, checking the environmental controls and automatic damage feedback on each deck.

Glancing into the room, it wasn't a pretty sight. Consoles still sprayed sparks, and a couple of technicians lay on the floor, electrical burns upon their bodies obvious even to Thaine's untrained eye. He swore softly, under his breath, at the damage, and hoped the hull breaches were far enough away from his current location to give him time to put things back together.

The scream from below startled him more than any of the times the ship had rocked from enemy weapons fire. Hurriedly turning, he peered into the gloom of the tubes to see the medic, clinging to dear life onto the ladder.

It had never occurred to Thaine she hadn't seen battle on this scale before. "Crewman? You alright?" It was a silly thing to ask, he realised, and there wasn't really the time to ask it. He needed her up here, and now, to deal with the injured. She wasn't even that far away; he could probably reach her if they both stretched.

Emma looked up into the dark eyes of Mark Thaine and gritted her teeth, clamping down on the urge to swear at him for obvious reasons. She managed to get a foot back on the ladder but her hands seemed death-locked on the rungs. "Help me!" she almost screamed at him. "I can't let go!" She looked wild eyed and panicked.

Struggling to stretch, the engineer lowered himself as much as he dared to, reaching out with his hand. He tried to keep his voice level. "Crewman, unless you want to stay here, grab my hand. I need you up here. And I need you now."

She struggled to move. His hand was a bare few inches away but it took everything she had to just let go of the first rung. She did it though - and that was all it needed. His grip was firm and he pulled her up with a heave. A few seconds later she was being dragged through the access hatch to sprawl on the decking. The smell of burned flesh assaulted her and she sat up looking about. Acrid smoke and burned plastics and sparks - two bodies.

Casting the Chief Engineer an almost dirty look for making her sprawl and for making her climb up ladders in small confined spaces, Emma grabbed her medical kit and went straight to the closest body. "You'd better clear the air in here," she said shakily. "There might be toxic gasses..."

She took out her tricorder and the medical sensor and began with an examination. While she busied herself there, Thaine went about doing his own thing. The woman was alive - barely. Emma rolled her onto her side and made sure she could breathe before moving to the next one. A male - and he was dead. His eyes were still open and fixed. Emma went back to the first patient - and did a more defined tricorder scan. She uploaded it to medical and went through the emergency transport procedure.

A few moments later the woman was a fading blue haze. Emma looked up at the Chief Engineer. "He's dead," she reported, "but the woman will live."

Turning from the environmental controls, Thaine gave her one, quick nod. There was no point discussing it.

Tapping his comm-badge, he quickly called for a couple of replacement engineers to find some way to this section of the ship, and take over the stations. He received a couple of reports about the status of the sensors, in between making some minor changes to the engine injection systems using the barely operating consoles, and then gave Emma a brief glance, taking advantage of the slight pause in the battle. "You feeling any better?" he asked.

"Peachy," she replied tartly. She brushed off a patch of dust from her uniform. "Sir...."

She wrinkled her nose at the rank stench of burned flesh. It hung in the air and she was sure that it was insinuating itself into her clothes. "Any chance you could fix the venting system, it stinks in here." She looked distastefully at the body laying sprawled on the decking. "I hate that smell..." she said almost under her breath.

"I hate it too," said Thaine, darkly. He coughed. "I've set the environmental controls to refresh the air. It may take a while." The ship shook hard again, and Thaine had to grab hold of the console to steady himself.

She nodded. Her bad mood still hanging around like the bad smell. She was holding on to a workstation when it fried. A shower of sparks and light caused her to cry out with near panic, but all it did was surprise her. She swore as she turned away from it. Her comm-badge chirped. "Crewman Summers, prepare for emergency transport to Sickbay - you are needed for triage." She tapped her badge and said, "Summers here - beam away." She nodded to Thaine. "Been a pleasure, sir - catch you around." The transporter beam took her away from the depths of the Engineering decks leaving Thaine to his long list of things to do.

---

"Triple Jeopardy, Part 4"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal; Chief Security Officer
Malthus [NPC]

Location: Risa
Stardate: 57907.10, 23h40

***

"Say again, Sulu?" Firece couldn't believe what he was hearing. His response prompted Farrell to listen closer.

"I say again, team one," came Chief Riley's voice. It was crackling. Mason recognized the static as indicative of power bled off of communications to feed some other need. "We have lost contact with Big Ben. Lost cont--" the comm skritzed momentarily. "Sulu is under attack and cannot transport. Respond to the Wolftrap, Code One!"

The Sulu was under attack? Farrell knew all these codes, as he'd gone over them with Firece prior to heading for the surface.

"What's your name, crewman?" he asked quietly as Firece asked for confirmation again.

"Chavez, sir," the dark-haired man said absently, finishing the dressing on Farrell's side.

"Chavez, we're going to need transportation," Farrell said quietly. "Get me?"

Crewman Chavez looked momentarily perplexed at Farrell's conspiratorial tone, then gave him a half-smile that told Farrell everything, and then turned to the placid Bolian. The two exchanged a look.

"Okay people," Firece called out, his voice a little shaky, "We've got to go!"

"Now, Chavez," Farrell said.

Chavez burst into the street with the Bolian close behind. A hovervan screeched to a halt, and Chavez slammed his palm on the hood while the Bolian moved to the driver door.

"Starfleet Security! We're commandeering this vehicle!"

***

Benedict gritted his teeth against the savage pain. She'd used some kind of electromagnetic pulse. Commbadges were out, the sensor inhibitor he wore was non-functional and Lyrr was at the mercy of a professional killer. But the transporter inhibitors were outside the room and they would still be working. He looked across the room, illuminated by moonlight through the broad windows as the automatic tinting mechanism had also failed. His eyes met Lyrr Tayla's and his promise to himself drove him up. His leg was cut deeply; he was bleeding in spurts and knew that he would bleed out soon.

Viata stepped up to the bed and looked at the useless phaser in Lyrr's hand. She still hadn't said a word and Lyrr wouldn't be a problem to her - not after taking the security officer. She moved around the bed and slashed downwards, but Lyrr wasn't there to receive the blow. She rolled back and away, coming to her feet at the opposite side of the bed.

Lyrr tossed aside the phaser and watched as the assassin skirted the corners of the bed in pursuit. Her body was lissome and graceful as she moved, but also poised to strike, as all trained killers were, as she herself had been taught to do at one time. Viata was in no hurry. There was a chilling calmness emanating from the woman, and in her eyes, Tayla saw death. Her own exuded defiance.

The display of skill and savage strength that she had witnessed between T'Kal and the assassin instilled in her a premonition of impending doom, but Tayla was not intimidated. She was about to die, as was the conclusion she had faced many times in her past, but that she was here now to face it again bolstered her confidence and gave hope that it would not be her fate this time either.

Coldness gripped her insides as she faced her assassin, dropping low and into the fighting stance she'd used in combat many times. Whatever fear she may have felt transformed to anger. Despite being tormented, ravished, and left for dead by the Cardassians, not once had she submitted to them; she wasn't about to for the woman she faced now, the one who held the presumption that all she had left to do was dispatch her defenseless victim. Lyrr refused to assume that role.

Benedict was staggering across the floor, trying to reach the wall, his face a mask of pain and determination. He'd fought for Lyrr's life and still tried to do so. Blood splashed on the floor as he moved, his hand clutching the wound to try to stem the bleeding.

Lyrr's eyes locked on the assassin's weaving blade. The Farehn'ti smiled condescendingly through the blood streaming down her face; white bone was clearly visible and it looked ghastly and nightmarish. She mocked Lyrr's stance with one of her own.

Lyrr struck out with a kick that was blocked almost casually. The follow-up strike slammed into Lyrr's chest and she flew into the wall, winded. Staggering for breath, Lyrr still smiled, a feral one as she leapt forward to engage her attacker again. She cocked an arm back to feign a sharp right hook, then dropped low before its execution to slam her booted foot into Viata's midsection. It connected against unyielding armour, and only had Viata momentarily off balance. The assassin rapidly recovered, faster than Lyrr had ever seen anyone move, and she hadn't a chance to rise from her crouch before a hand closed roughly around her arm.

She was flung aside with such force as seemed incapable of coming from a woman Viata's size and make; this time Lyrr landed against a wall mirror and it shattered, raining glass shards down upon her. Her back stung as glass ground against her skin, and she revelled in it, as she had programmed herself to do during that long month she'd spent in the merciless hands of her Cardassian captors. She had fed from it, then, derived strength from it and fueled her hatred with it - as she was doing now.

Lyrr gazed up with intense animosity at the assassin, who made no aggressive advances; she simply waited for her prey to rise, enjoying the hunt more than the kill she was confident she would achieve. Lyrr furtively grabbed for a glass shard and it cut into her hand as she gripped it. She rose smoothly and easily, holding her makeshift weapon up before her like a dagger with her own blood seeping between her fingers.

She slashed at the assassin and it was blocked easily. This time her wrist was caught in an iron grip and twisted. Excruciating pain shot through her arm as tendons sprained and were stretched to their limits. She was forced to drop the glass dagger with a cry of frustration and agony. A kick into her knee slammed her to the floor, her arm being used as leverage against her as she was forced against the wall.

The assassin looked down at Lyrr and brought the long bladed dagger around into a stabbing grip. All Tayla could see was the face of her killer and the blade. Was this the image in Xayella Tagliesh's mind? She couldn't move without sparking harrowing pain through her arm, and couldn't defend herself without appearing feeble, desperate. The woman's eyes were dead eyes...and in them Lyrr saw the reflection of herself, of the twisted, fierce grin she wore.

"Your move," she rasped, her voice thick with pain. "I'm not begging, not screaming, so get this done." Lyrr chuckled, a hoarse, unwholesome sound that taunted and jeered. She'd laughed at them, too - the Cardassians who had tortured her, violated her, but who had failed to silence her or break her iron will; Viata would not succeed in that either.

Benedict reached the wall and his goal leaving a dark trail across the carpet. He was weak and fading out, but his will drove him on. He reached up and gripped the haft of his katana, still embedded in the wall. It came smoothly out of the wall as Benedict gritted his teeth and pulled. He tried to make no sound to alert the assassin. Blood loss was making him light-headed.

He was on his knees and swaying as he took it in both hands. The vibro-blade was a twenty-second century version of the ancient Japanese ancestral blades. The osmium-vibranium blade was super sharp, but it also vibrated at extremely high frequency. It could cut through steel even without the vibrations. The sensors in the haft were dead - thanks to the electromagnetic pulse. It wouldn't matter. The blade was heavy and finely balanced. As the blackness reached up to take him his focus narrowed to a single point.

As the Farehn'ti lifted the blade joyously to plunge it into Lyrr's heart, Benedict raised the sword above his head and over his shoulders. He used every ounce of strength he had left.

Lyrr saw it all as if time had slowed: The blade raising and beginning to fall; the blood dripping from the ruined face of the assassin and falling as drops reached down toward her; her pain coming in waves of sickening agony down her arm as the shoulder socket started to give; the look of complete surprise beginning to register on the Farehn'ti's face as the blade of Benedict's katana erupted from her chest and pinned her to the wall.

The assassin's blade fell harmlessly to the floor right before Lyrr's face. It was stained with dark blood. The gurgling spasming death of the assassin was quick. She fell forward against the wall and slowly the muscles in her face relaxed in death.

Benedict was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. He was still bleeding, but a lot slower now.

Lyrr was left to regard the assassin with satisfaction, and with a disappointment that frightened her. Resurfacing was that part of her she'd worked diligently to suppress, the one that had her expectantly welcoming death, embracing it. She growled as she quashed it for the time being, then, cradling against her chest her injured arm, still throbbing with residual pain, she rose and limped to Ben's side.

With a grunt, she dropped to her knees beside him and pressed two fingers to his throat. His pulse was still there, but fearfully faint. Lyrr tapped her commbadge, only to realize the EM pulse had overloaded her communicator as well. She cursed, momentarily nonplussed, then reached beneath T'Kal on a whim and tugged free his commbadge. The device had been deactivated for the mission, and remained so when she attempted to activate it. The EM pulse had quite the range, apparently.

Lyrr was left alone in the room with one dead woman, and T'Kal soon to join her if he didn't receive medical attention. She wondered where the hell the security team was. Word would reach Dojit Terise almost immediately - and Starfleet Command soon after - if she requested aid from a Risan medical facility, but Lyrr would rather suffer the consequences of seeking help from the Risans than have T'Kal die out of cowardice.

Lyrr struggled to her feet, momentarily hesitant about leaving T'Kal alone, but one quick glance at Viata, pinned to the wall by T'Kal's weapon, and Lyrr was satisfied he would remain safe. Only when she was halfway into the living area did she realize she was limping, and that she didn't feel a thing; she'd been desensitized to such trivial, minute pain during her time with the Cardassians, and it was one thing she almost thanked them for.

Connected to the far wall, near the doorway, was the communication terminal each room was equipped with. If the EM pulse had scrambled its circuits as well, she'd have to seek out a neighbour, who obviously had better things to do than investigate the source of the loud disturbance coming from next door.

The terminal beeped as Lyrr punched at its console, and sighed with at least some relief that it still functioned. She had only the vaguest knowledge of how to reach anyone on Risa using the device, but her fingers had managed to input the correct frequency for an operator, who then connected her with Risan Medical. Lyrr was almost unaware that she was speaking as she requested urgent assistance, and barely processed the response as they acknowledged, in polite, hospitable Risan fashion.

She remained standing at the terminal, in a momentary daze. Someone had just attempted to kill her and had almost succeeded. The impact of that still hadn't fully processed in her stunned mind, which made it easier to finally tear her gaze away from the wall and turn back towards the bedroom.

T'Kal was still there, motionless and definitely bleeding out judging from the red stain on the carpet beneath his leg, and the other where his chest was positioned. Lyrr's field training kicked in and she moved to the bed to tear strips from the thin sheet beneath the comforter. It was difficult, and painful, using her injured hand to grip the sheet while the other tore, but she succeeded in creating two long bands of material that would work adequately as temporary bandages.

Again kneeling by his side, Lyrr laboriously rolled T'Kal onto his back. His head landed gently upon her lap, his face turned up towards hers. Those violet eyes she'd found so disturbing before remained closed, and as numerous booted feet pounded down the corridor outside the room, Lyrr brushed away a lock of black hair adhered to his forehead with sweat, and smiled.

"Thanks," she whispered, then proceeded to minister to his wounds, just as help finally arrived.

---