"Now, What?"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Corridor, Deck 2
Stardate: 57907.12 02h11

***

"Let's just start again," he'd told Natalia. Start again. Was that even possible? Could he treat Natalia as just a friend? He could certainly try it. She was probably a pleasant enough woman; the sex had just complicated things needlessly. Better to steer clear of the sex and just start again. Mason absently wished he had the luxury in other areas of his life. He certainly couldn't start his career again.

Or could he? Why not? he wondered to himself. This was a new ship with a new crew. He'd only been on board a week. What was keeping him from starting again?

Lyrr, he decided. Every time he thought he was making progress, she'd show up and denounce him again. There was no way around it, he thought. Lyrr would keep using him as an emotional speedbag, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

Again, the words 'why not?' floated through his consciousness. He stopped in the corridor and thought on that. Why not change his relationship with Lyrr? Randomly, he thought about sex and he shoved the thought down as soon as he had it, physically shaking his head to drive it away. He started walking again. Sex had mangled his relationship with Natalia. He couldn't imagine the damage it would do to his relationship with Lyrr. Besides, Lyrr was just about the least sexual woman he'd ever met. She probably slept in uniform. Putting her and sex in the same thought was even more incongruous than thinking of the captain's affair with the Science chief. Of course, Mason thought, if he was a captain and he had a Science chief like that....

Enough thinking about that. So how else could he make up with Lyrr? He'd done gifts, and it had only made her more defensive. Accepting a gift was a control issue for her. Gifts made her feel indebted, and she hated that feeling, and 'hate' wasn't what Mason needed her to be feeling. No, he decided, he needed to do something that would either level things off, leaving neither with a control edge, or something that would leave Lyrr at least thinking she was still in charge.

And Mason could only think of one way to do that.

---

"Second Impressions"
By: Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
and Ensign Ethan Storm - Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Armory
Stardate 57907.12, 0300hrs

***

Less than three full days into T'Kal's punishment, Storm felt better than he had in a year.

For Storm, doing double shifts was barely a punishment at all; he'd been on double duty more often than not since the Sulu arrived at Risa. Ethan particularly enjoyed Armory work and would have volunteered for it, had it been offered. And while walking the decks for Alpha wasn't exactly his favorite past time, it was better than some of the more mundane aspects of security work he could have been assigned.

At least it afforded him the opportunity to "walk the decks" near Astrometrics and share furtive glances with Crewman Moreau. She'd been quite understanding about the restrictions when he'd explained - fortunately he had his basic intraship communications restored - and they contented themselves with sending text messages to one another while they waited for the hammer to fall. Shyla seemed confident that the restrictions would be lifted soon enough even if Storm was not.

All told, the only thing that really got under Storm's skin was being left out of the battle with the Ryuck vessel. The minutes he'd been confined to his quarters while the Sulu had taken blows were the hardest minutes of his life. While he'd expected to flashback to the events on the Yeager, Storm took some small pride in the fact that he had not. All he'd thought about those tense moments was getting out of his quarters and helping any way he could. When it had passed, Storm felt the first true regret for his illegal acts. They had kept him away from his duties when the ship needed him most. He didn't want that to happen again.

As long as he was assigned to Armory duty, Storm had taken it upon himself to see that every phaser was clean, calibrated, and fully charged. The compression phaser rifles had suffered particular neglect during their stay on Risa and Storm had taken great satisfaction in giving all thirty a thorough cleaning. He was pleased with the work until he noticed that more than half of them needed recalibration.

With one of the offending weapons in hand, Storm tapped a few keys at the duty station causing a section of one bulkhead to fold open noisily and allow access to the testing area - essentially a meter deep, meter wide hollow in the bulkhead equipped with a simple holoemitter, thickened with reinforced duranium, and shielded against even the strongest phaser discharges.

"Standard target," Storm said, taking his place in front of the test area. Obediently, a simple red and white target shimmered into existence inside the hollow. Storm tapped the controls on the rifle, adjusting the power setting for a test fire. A quick hip shot missed the small target by six inches and was absorbed by the force fields. Storm stifled a curse.

"Having problems?" Benedict had entered the Armoury on a walk-around. It was 0300hrs and he couldn't sleep. He was still wearing his black work-out uniform, his leg was sore and he needed time to think about things. Mainly things he needed to attend to in security - but the odd thought about personal issues surfaced. His son. Cathy Page. Lyrr Tayla. Tebrianne. Julia. A jumble of memories and images. Ensign Storm was doing something useful. Benedict had already noted the weaponry tool kits laid out on the benches and the obvious evidence of their use. He was pleased that Ethan Storm had seen fit to use his Armoury time constructively.

When T'Kal had spoken, Storm glanced back at him and offered him a "No, sir" in answer to his question before going right back to work. His expression stayed carefully neutral.

Benedict nodded as he watched the security officer adjusting the auto-calibration on the rifle. "We need to talk," he said matter of factly. He indicated a stool by the bench and pulled a second one for himself. "The other day..." Benedict looked up into the man's eyes as he sat. "I didn't give you much of a chance to explain what and why you did what you did. I read through your reports, and I talked to a few people. It seems that I may have misjudged you. Your punishment detail still stands - and both you and I know that it's administrative - it's better for you and the rest of the security detail if you are being useful. I hate wasting resources, Ensign - and locking you in your room is a waste. I'm glad to see that you are making good use of your time." He indicated the weapons with a nod of his head. "I'd like to hear the why and the what...so I'm listening."

He folded his arms and sat back, giving the Ensign an opportunity to explain himself. Benedict had done a lot of thinking about how he had reacted to Storm. The memories of Dieran Casey had flooded back - and he had been angry. He'd taken it out on Ethan Storm. Perhaps unfairly. He deserved a fair trial.

"What specifically do you want to know, sir?" Storm asked, laying the compression rifle down on the workbench and shifting in his seat. He sat stiffly upright with no slouch at that shoulders.

"I want to know why you acted alone. What prompted you to isolate yourself when Starfleet training would indicate that you should have come to a superior officer. Why you had a belief that you had to do it alone and couldn't trust anyone else in security to assist you."

Storm glanced down at the deck. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"That's what I'm here for."

Storm looked back up and locked eyes with T'Kal, his blue ice chips regarding the Bajoran's twin violet suns. "Sir, I would put myself between any enemy of this ship and its crew. And it doesn't make much difference to me if the enemy is Cardassians, Risan bureaucrats, Ktarian justice, or Ryuck assassins. I did it for Collins because I had to do everything I could possibly do. You can always count on me for that."

Benedict nodded. He could understand what the man was saying. It was duty and honour and the bond of brotherhood in arms. It was everything Benedict stood for.

"What I won't do is ask anyone else to put him or herself in the same position. I can only risk my own skin, sir. I can't ask anyone else to do the same. Not yet."

Benedict nodded. He leaned back against the bench and regarded the young man with a thoughtful expression. He was nothing like Casey. That was evident. "What about me?" Benedict asked casually. "Would you do the same for me? Would you put everything on the line for me? Without knowing me? In the same way you did for Collins, and you didn't know her either."

"Aye, sir." Storm didn't hesitate in his answer.

"Do you think that I would do any less for you?" Benedict touched the material of his uniform jacket. "We wear the same uniform, Ensign. I'd put my life on the line for you without thinking twice about it. But so would Chavez, and Ner'c and Gordo, Hansen, Bennett and Glickman - every single man and woman on this ship who wears this uniform would do the same. Not just once, but every single time." Benedict's voice was gentle, matter-of-fact, but direct. "Starfleet uniforms are filled with men and women who wear them with pride, and they earned the right to wear them. It takes a lot of training, guts and determination just to earn that right. When you tell me that you can't ask anyone else to put it on the line, you're telling me that they - we - haven't earned something you think is necessary. Not yet...." Benedict shook his head. "What I think you're missing, Ensign, is that every single one of us thinks and feels the same about putting it on the line for the next guy."

"We lost two guys on Risa. They died putting it on the line for Collins. Others were hurt - but every one of us didn't think for a minute that Collins was guilty first. Even though there was ample proof to make us think she was guilty - we didn't stop. We didn't give up. Not one of us. Don't think that being on my security detail means that you can wait and see if we come up to your standard. You need to know - not think you know - that you can trust all of us. I have to believe that you will watch my back, as I expect you to believe that I'll watch yours. That goes for everyone in my detail - but it goes for everyone on this ship. I don't need to earn your trust, Ensign - I expect that I already have it.

"I was speaking to an Operations officer the other day. This guy was laying in a hospital bed after getting stabbed in the gut. The day before that he'd been shot - in the same fire-fight in which the two security officers died. He risked his life to save a Ferengi he believed was an important witness for Collins. He even acted as bait to lure the assassin. He's not security - but by The Prophets he earned his right to be!

"I didn't come in here to give you a pep talk, Ethan. But I really want you to understand something. We act together, as a crew and as brother officers. Don't ever doubt that you can ask for help, or ask for someone to risk their skin for the right reasons. You had the right reasons, Ethan - but you judged us harshly. It's all about trust and it's all about honor. As far as I'm concerned you got the job done. That counts for something. Next time - don't think twice about coming to me first. Don't hang yourself out to dry."

Ethan had listened and the words had wisdom but T'Kal had gotten something wrong. For a moment, Storm debated if he really wanted to open up the inner workings of his dysfunction for his department head.

Benedict watched him. There was an inner battle going on and it was obvious to him that Ethan Storm had other reasons for his lack of trust of his brother officers. He let him think for a few seconds before prompting him. "If there's something else I need to know it, Ethan. You expect me to trust you and rely on you - okay, do the same with me. All the cards on the table time." His violet gaze was unwavering. He needed to know what was behind this man's hesitancy. It might cost lives in the future, and Benedict wasn't going to risk that.

"Forgive me for saying so, sir," Storm began, carefully choosing his words. "But I think you still have a small misperception of me. What's more, I think a couple things you said are flat-out wrong."

Benedict let him speak. He wanted to know where the Ensign thought that he was wrong.

"I wouldn't ask anyone to risk their skin in a plan of mine because last time I asked for help, it didn't really work out so good for the helpers. Trust doesn't enter into that. But while we're on the subject of trust, I don't have the optimistic view you do about this entire crew." Noticing T'Kal's expression stiffen, Storm hastily added, "I'm not talking about our department, sir. They're good people, for the most part. But from almost the minute we showed up on this planet, we had a crewmate in trouble. And most of the ship decided to vacation anyway. Even the Captain getting stabbed didn't get them off the beach."

Benedict nodded. He thought that he could see where this was going, but he didn't interrupt. He wanted him to get it all out in the open.

"Like I said, I'd put myself between anyone on this crew and an enemy if it came to that. But I'd be a fool to think that they all would do the same for me. I'll put my trust in my department and I'll put my trust in the people who warrant it. Everyone else is suspect, until they prove otherwise."

Benedict nodded again. "That's a start," he said. "Perhaps your expectations of the crew are unrealistic. Yes, most of the crew were on the beach - but most of the crew are operations, engineers, science and medical personnel that couldn't possibly do anything about what was happening. The people in the know - the ones with real tasks to do - they were on it. Security carried most of the ball on this one - but that shouldn't demean anyone else on the Sulu. They all performed their jobs. It wouldn't have done anyone any good to recall the entire crew because Salinger got stabbed. This is shore leave time - the crew has earned it. The people who needed to be involved were. The crew has to trust the senior staff to know who's needed and where - and when. It's okay to trust security - but to say everyone else is suspect is wrong. In my opinion they earned trust along with the uniform. The odd one that fails that trust - that's suspect. You can't say they are guilty before proven innocent - and you can't distrust yourself too much either. That leads to too many regrets."

Storm stood up and took up the compression rifle. "Sir, if I have one regret about my actions is that it made me unavailable to be where I belonged - either up on the Bridge while you were with Commander Lyrr or planetside myself backing up a certain Operations officer who somehow managed to contribute to the mission, even though it's not his job.You can't always see the road ahead, not when there's a curve in it. Lesson learned."

Benedict nodded. At least he had a good feel for Ethan Storm now. "Good," he said as he stood. "I'll leave you to your duties. Have a good night." He left the Ensign to sighting in the rifle.

After the large double doors of the Armory slammed shut behind T'Kal with that familiar hollow sound of finality, Storm took aim with the phaser compression rifle and fired. The holotarget obediently shimmered out of existence.

---

"It's For The Best"
By: Counselor Ainsley Chambers
Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12 07h54

***

Ainsley took a quick bite of her croissant as she stepped into the turbo lift. She hadn't had time to sit in the mess hall and eat as she'd wanted to get to her office and get things in order for the day, so she'd grabbed some fresh baked goodies on her way down from her quarters.

There were two other officers in the turbolift as she stepped in. She nodded to them. "Deck 5," she said as the doors closed.

She faced the door and started going over her day in her head. She was seeing Grixble in a couple hours, Amy would be by just before lunch...

Suddenly the voices of the two med techs behind her broke into her thoughts. "... I tell you, there was something going on in there before Sherry and I entered. They were standing real close. I'm sure they'd been making out or something..." Ainsley pushed the voices away and began to focus on her day again. She was not one to listen to the ship's gossip.

She was just thinking about what her meeting with Grixble would entail when her thoughts were pulled back to the conversation. "Farrell took off out of the turbo lift and the woman was left in the lift crying."

Ainsley turned and looked at the two women behind her. "Mason Farrell?" she asked.

The woman on the right nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." When Ainsley kept looking at her she continued. "Another friend and I walked in on him and the new Science officer. I looked her name up later, she's Russian I think, her last name is Druschev. I forget what her first name is. But anyway, when we entered the turbo lift there was certainly something going on. They were all over each other, even as the doors were opening. Before they managed to close after us he broke away and whispered something about tonight, and then bolted out the door. She looked devastated and cried all the way up to her stop."

Ainsley felt herself becoming very flushed as the young woman spoke. Embarrassment or anger she wasn't sure which. "And you're sure that it was Mason Farrell?" she asked again.

"Yes, Ma'am," the woman replied with a grin. "You don't mistake a looker like that for someone else. I've had my eye on him since he came on board, a few of us have." With that Ainsley turned around and faced the doors again. The techs said no more about the incident, obviously getting the impression that something had upset the counselor.

As the doors opened on deck 5 Ainsley sighed with relief; the lift was beginning to feel like it was closing in on her. She stepped out before the doors were even fully open and hurried down the hall to her office. A couple officers looked at her strangely as she hurried past. She didn't even allow herself to think until she got into her office.

In her office she reached up to rub her forehead and realized that she had a squashed and mangled croissant still in her fist. She threw it down on her desk and then began pacing. "What the hell?" she asked herself. She reached up and squeezed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. She would have sworn that something had happened between her and Mason that night that they went dancing and then yesterday when he had called her and brought her that chocolate.

"Stop it, woman!" she told herself. All they'd done was go dancing, there was absolutely no commitment or even any plans to get together again. Sure they'd said it would be nice to get together again, but... "You have no right to be getting all upset like this!"

Her computer beeped at her, telling her she had new messages. She sighed happily. Work! Something to distract her! She made her way behind the desk and flipped on her computer screen. She sat down and looked at her mail. The first one was from Bree Scott. She had a new patient for her. She scrolled down the message. Natalia Druschev... Ainsley's heart sunk again. She was sure that was the name that the woman in the lift had said. She felt like screaming.

***

Natalia walked the corridor of deck five in a pensive mood. She was headed to the ship's counsellor's office for her check-in appointment. She'd avoided it since coming aboard - partly because she hadn't seen the need for a visit to a shrink, and partly because she didn't often feel the need to unburden herself of problems. That had changed since her arrival. There was the recent attack on the ship, and Domenic's panic attacks - her nightmares about bringing her son to a dangerous place - and last but certainly not least - Mason Farrell.

He was younger than her, junior to her in rank, clearly not the kind of man she would normally consider as an ideal mate - and they had ended up in bed again. She was ashamed of her actions - playing him and pushing him and using him. The way she looked at it this morning was entirely different to last night! She had just wanted him...but what if he went to a Counselor and told them that he had felt pushed? What if he saw it as her abusing her rank? God what a mess! He'd said there would be collateral damage...at least he had indicated that he wasn't married or seeing anyone!

Her mind was full of complications and she felt so screwed up! She arrived at the counselor's door and pushed the chime. The voice inside said, "Come," and so she stepped straight in as the door slid aside.

Natalia was met by a pretty blonde on the far side of the desk. Big blue eyes in an elfin face, wide smile and arched brows met Natalia's gaze. She was shorter by at least three inches as she stood to welcome her inside. "Good morning, Counselor," Natalia said as she approached the desk. "I'm Natalia Druschev - science officer." Natalia's voice was thickly accented, her vowels well-rounded and her rr's rolled in typical Russian style. The counselor was at least ten years her junior. Natalia gave her an uncomfortable smile and held out her hand.

Ainsley Chambers could see that Natalia was feeling uncomfortable. The taller woman was in uniform, but she looked as if she hadn't slept very well. Her pale blue eyes looked tired, but guarded too. Her handshake was firm, and dry. No trace of real nervousness, just discomfort. The science officer was a jaygee Lieutenant by her rank pips, and she was dark haired - wearing her dark hair loosely tied back with a silver clip. It hung past her shoulders and was glossy with health.

"Lieutenant," Ainsley said as they shook hands. "Good Morning." Thankfully there had been about 20 minutes after she'd read her message from Bree before Druschev had shown up. She had managed to get control of her emotions again. She looked the woman over; she was absolutely stunning. It was no wonder that Mason had... She cut herself off right there. She had no clue about what was going on, or that this woman and Mason had even done anything together. All she had heard was rumours in a turbo lift from two young, gossipy med techs.

"Why don't you have a seat? Sit any where you want." She motioned to the two chairs and a couch.

Natalia sat in a chair and Ainsley got comfortable across from her. "How are you enjoying the Sulu so far? You look a little tired."

Natalia nodded. "I'm settling in," she said. "I have my son with me - Domenic. He's nine. We're sorting it out - though with the attack on the Sulu...it's raised some issues. I haven't slept well." She looked up at the counselor and shrugged. "Honestly...I'm messed up. I know this is only my psyche check-in, but I think I need to talk to someone...." Natalia looked away and spent a little time examining her long nails.

Ainsley pushed any thoughts of Mason completely out of her mind now. She was on duty and this was a woman who obviously needed to talk to someone. "It doesn't matter that this is only your check-in, talk about what ever you need to. That's what I am here for."

"I don't know if my decision to accept a posting on a line ship was a good idea. Domenic is scared - the attack really upset him - and I have to get involved with a member of the crew - and that's another issue entirely!" She looked up at the counselor and Ainsley could see the beginning of tears welling in Natalia's eyes.

"Well..." Ainsley said quietly. "Which issue would you like to deal with first?"

Natalia sighed. "I didn't think about the dangers involved in being on a starship." She sat back and looked at the Counselor, worry clearly on her face. "Here I am with a nine year old boy - he doesn't want to be here to start with and I dragged him away from a Starbase and all his friends. There's no children his age on the Sulu. What can I do?" She clasped her hands together in her lap and shook her head in exasperation. Her long dark hair hung around her face in glossy curls. "What can I do?" she asked again. "I feel like I really messed things up...."

Ainsley looked at the other woman's face. She was obviously deeply troubled by what she perceived to be an awful mistake on her part. "Today is certainly not the day to be making that decision. Today's not the day to be making any decisions in fact. There's too much stress. Give it a few days, allow you and your son to get a little more accustomed to the Sulu before you start thinking that it's been a bad decision."

Natalia gave a short laugh. "I'm full of bad decisions!" She shook her head and wiped her eyes with both palms. She finally met the eyes of the woman opposite. "I met a guy on Risa while on shore leave. We hit it off straight away...you know...the kind of 'instant across a crowded room' attraction." She smiled at the memory. "He took me dancing - we had a wonderful evening and it ended in a Risan hotel room...." Natalia's voice was clearly full of emotion. She looked up at the counselor and said, "It was so perfect...the kind of night with a man that you will remember for the rest of your life as if it was some kind of dream...." She sighed heavily and blinked away a tear. "I woke up and he was gone...."

Ainsley's face remained calm, but on the inside she almost felt like sobbing. She didn't really want to be hearing this; she should ask Druschev to stop and refer her to Bree because of personal conflict. Then she firmly reminded herself that she had no solid proof that the man she was talking about was even anyone she knew, or that it was even anyone from the Sulu. "Sometimes that's the best way for those relationships to turn out, nothing can ever be as wonderful as that first night."

"It would have stayed that way - I only knew his first name," she smiled sadly. "Then I came aboard and we ran into each other in a turbo-lift." She shook her head slightly at that memory. "I was all set to hear that it had been a one night thing...but he didn't say that. He kissed me again - I wanted him so much." She looked up at Ainsley and saw a fixed expression on the woman's face. "He seemed like he couldn't get enough of me - and then he said he couldn't do it and that he'd see me later. We were interrupted by a couple of crew members and he left - and I was so confused!" She shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. "He came to see me after Beta shift. He was talking about collateral damage from our relationship - so I asked him if he was seeing someone - that would have been explanation enough for me - but he said no - and then he asked about my son." She started to cry again. Tears began to roll down her face. "He said flat out that he didn't want to be the man who was shacked up with Domenic's mom!" She looked up at Ainsley then. "He hadn't even met him!"

Ainsley reminded herself that she and Mason weren't seeing each other, one dance lesson and a couple kisses on the cheek certainly did not constitute seeing each other. Especially not after what she heard Mason and this woman had shared. She internally screamed at herself that Natalia had not said Mason's name and until she did she couldn't go jumping to conclusions simply because two yappy medtechs had been gossiping behind her in the turbolift.

Natalia reached out a trembling hand and took a bunch of tissues that were in a box on the corner of the counselors' desk. Wiping her eyes and blowing her nose gave her a breathing space. "I was so angry." She shook her head in denial. "I told him to leave - to get the hell out of my quarters."

"Instead he told me about his own childhood - about what he went through with his mother and her lovers - that he hated them all and that it wouldn't be fair to put Domenic in the same position. I didn't know what to say - I don't even know if it was the truth, but he put his arms around me and I couldn't think straight.

"I kissed him. I shouldn't have - but I couldn't help it. He was angry with me - but he didn't stop either. We...we made love again...." She wiped her eyes. "But it wasn't love - it was something else...." Natalia closed her eyes. "It was violent - angry - and I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted to. But I didn't want to either." She looked up at the counselor. "I feel so guilty. I pushed him - it was all my fault. I'm a Lieutenant and he's a Ensign - I should have known better...."

Ainsley looked the woman over, trying to decide exactly what was being said. "Are you saying that this man raped you?" Ainsley knew that the woman could not be talking about Mason now. That man that she had danced all night with a couple days ago could not have raped anyone.

Natalia reacted as if she had been hit. She looked up at the counselor and said, "No! I didn't mean it like that - it was consensual. It was just...I don't know - it wasn't either of us." She leaned forward to make her point very clear - she hadn't meant to make it sound like that - but she could see where the Counselor had mistaken her description. "Mason was angry - but it wasn't rape. I wanted him and I didn't care what happened. He was angry because I didn't listen to him - I didn't want to. What he said about Domenic wasn't exactly fair. Now I don't know what to do...." She put her face in her hands. "I'm so confused."

Ainsley felt like she had been slapped. All the arguing that she had been having with herself was all for naught, it was all true. "Mason..." she said quietly.

The note in Ainsley Chambers' voice made Natalia look up at the blonde counselor. "You know him?" she asked. Of course she would! She was a ship's counselor - of course she'd know who he was. It was the look in her eyes that gave her away. It was - shock. Recognition. Doubt. Pain. Natalia watched the counselor carefully - the thought that Mason Farrell was a patient of the counselor running through her head. But it was more than that. Intuition told her it was more than that....

Ainsley blinked and was instantly back into counselor mode; she knew how to hide her feelings, she had to. "Ensign Farrell and I served on the Ranger together," she answered, not willing to admit anything more than that. "I ran into him a few days ago in the mess and we had breakfast together."

That wasn't it. Natalia wiped her eyes and sat back, staring at the counselor. "Is he a friend of yours? I don't want to cause you any conflict of interest...." Natalia's instincts were telling her that it was personal. The counselor's mask of professionalism had slipped for a moment - that was enough to warn Natalia that there was more to it than she was admitting.

Ainsley nodded slightly. "I know him fairly well." She really should pass this case on to Bree; it certainly was crossing the line into personal conflict, but for some reason she didn't want to. "I can refer you to Counselor Scott if you'd rather." She had a feeling that Natalia was seeing right through her.

"Then you might be able to tell me how to cope with this...." She shook her head 'no' at the counselor's offer to pass her on to someone else - she'd already started talking and perhaps someone who knew Mason better than she might be able to give her some insight. "I don't really know what's happening. Mason and I really clicked - we spent an entire evening talking, dancing, laughing - it was perfect. We spent the whole night together... I really felt something for him. Then last night was...different. Like he was almost a different man and on Risa he'd been playing a part...." She looked at Ainsley and shrugged. "It was almost as if he was making all the right moves - saying all the right things, and I fell for it! Then I come aboard the Sulu and meet him. I honestly thought that it had been a one night thing...that he would say that - and it would have been okay. But he didn't." She shook her head. "He didn't say that - when he came to my quarters last night I guess he was trying to explain why we couldn't have a relationship. He used Domenic as an excuse - he hadn't even known that I had a son before then. I cried - I really want to get to know him more - we connected. I was upset then...and he was there...and one thing led to another....

"I really don't know what to do. Should I just forget him and leave it at that?" The question hung in the air between the two women. Natalia was clearly upset - she wanted guidance or a sane voice that would say 'It's okay - forget him...' or 'Explore your feelings and go after him...'

Ainsley wanted to tell her, right off the bat, to forget it. Forget Mason and move on. And even to her counselor's mind that sounded like sound advice after what Natalia had said happened the night before, but she needed to build up to that response, explain it before she voiced it. For herself as much as for her patient. "Very often the first date is exactly like you described your night on Risa being, we all play a part when we first meet someone. We want them to like us, we want to say all the right things. Some of us pour it on a little harder, but we all do it." She shrugged slightly. "Risa is especially good for that. You can go down there and be whoever you want to be for a night, a week... What's the likelihood that you'll ever run into any of those people again. It's very slim. In a way you guys are very lucky, whether it's good luck or bad luck who's to say. Most people would have walked away from that night with only first names and never seen each other again. So what I'm saying here is he" --she couldn't bring herself to say his name-- "probably was making all the right moves, and there's no reason to feel ashamed that you fell for it. We all do."

She sighed then. "This business that has gone on since you've met up again here on the Sulu should be the deciding factor I think. You said that he told you that he didn't want to be involved with someone who has a child, and told you about his own experiences as a child. And you saw what happened when he didn't follow his feelings in that respect, he got angry. Is that something you want to be involved with?"

Natalia shook her head. No it wasn't. Ainsley was right, but it didn't make her feel any better. "No..." she said it softly. "For my sake and Domenic's...." She looked across at the counselor. "I hated myself when I got up this morning. Last night didn't make me feel good about myself - and now I've ruined a perfect memory." She wiped her eyes again, determined not to shed any more tears.

"I'll try to avoid him then." Natalia looked away. "I'll try to forget him...." She knew she wouldn't be able to do either of those things. Not on a ship as small as an Intrepid.

Ainsley nodded. She would have to do the same thing; she knew that it really didn't have anything to do with her but Ainsley didn't think she could be with anyone who treated a woman this way. "It probably won't be easy..." she said, not quite sure if she was saying it for Natalia's benefit or her own. "But it's probably for the best." The two woman sat in silence for a few minutes.

Natalia finally nodded. She had to get it straight in her own mind. Mason represented the kind of man she yearned after - but not the kind of man she would be able to keep. He was handsome, sexy and dangerous - enough to make her totally infatuated, but those same qualities made him a man you couldn't possibly live with. There was Domenic to consider above even her own interests. However much she hated it, his welfare was totally her concern, and it had to rank above her needs or wants. Mason Farrell wasn't the steady and reliable man she needed for Domenic. Yet steady and reliable men were more prone to be boring and dispassionate. As Natalia looked up into the eyes of the Counselor, she could see that she too was thinking deeply. "Thank you," she managed to say unevenly. "I think I just needed the voice of sanity to confirm my own conclusions...." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with a manicured hand. She was getting a headache from all the emotion.

"Thanks for listening." She gave the Counselor a wan smile. She looked rather sad, as if the final decision she had made wasn't the one she really wanted to make. "You are right...it's for the best...." She didn't sound terribly convinced.

"Yes..." Ainsley responded quietly, lost in her own thoughts, future plans that she had made for them to go sky diving, or SCUBA diving. Then she mentally shook herself and looked up at Natalia again. "I'm always here to listen and to offer any support you might need."

Natalia nodded and smiled at the counselor. "Thanks." She leaned back in the chair. "I'm sorry." She looked more carefully at the other woman; she was more solemn than she had been when Natalia first walked in. "It's pretty obvious you know Mason Farrell more than you let on. Is he a friend?" She asked the question very softly, as if stating it any louder would break something. "You seem...sad...."

Ainsley shrugged a little. She was the counselor here, she was not going to talk about her personal life. But she couldn't just dismiss Natalia either without looking like she was being a complete snot. "We're friends..." she admitted.

Natalia nodded. The look in her eyes told Natalia that she was trespassing and that slightly irked her. Counselors loved rooting around in their patients' lives and minds but were totally defensive when it came to their own. Who counselled the counsellors? Natalia gave her a smile. "Well," she said, gripping the arm rests of the chair. "I'd better get back to duty." She stood. "Thanks again, Counselor Chambers. I might see you again soon. Maybe I'll bring Domenic. It would be good if he had someone else he could talk to besides me."

"I think that would be a good idea if you're worried about how he's adjusting," Ainsley responded. "And any time you feel like you need to talk then I'm here." She felt bad, felt like she was not giving her everything she could be.

Natalia just nodded. "Thanks." She left the counselor's office feeling depressed. She had however reached a solid decision. One that she would keep.

---

"Favors"
by Captain Matthew T. Salinger
and Captain William Waverly [NPC]

Location: Captain's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12 08h35

***

Staring into space. There wasn't much else to do right now, not with Xayella in a science meeting and the planet drifting past below their orbital position. It felt good to sit in his chair again. It felt good to be on his ship again. Matt Salinger sighed. It felt good to be alive again.

"Captain," Sam's voice announced from the comm, "incoming message for you from the USS Spector."

"Put it through, Sam."

"Aye, Captain," the android answered. A moment later, the Federation logo dissolved from the screen.

Captain Waverly's face appeared on Salinger's screen, square-jawed with a full head of sandy hair. The commanding officer of the Spector was rapidly approaching sixty but still spry for his age. He had been in the Center Seat for over two decades.

"Dammit, Salinger," Waverly said, his midwestern twang coming from the back of his throat. "You look like you been rode hard and put away wet."

Matt offered a tired smile. "What can you expect," he said with a shrug. "Risa." As if the word explained everything. "What are you doing out this way, Bill? I hadn't expected to see you this close to shore leave without a phaser at your back."

Waverly took a quick sip of coffee and grimaced at the taste. "We're just in the neighborhood to dispatch Ambassador Serek's runabout, then we gotta move on to Sector 11-K. He'll be working with the Opai until the Federation gets together a team from the Embassy. This mess ain't gonna be fixed by one two hundred year old Vulcan with a superiority complex."

"I don't think age has anything to do with their superiority complexes," Matt answered with a grin.

Waverly paused and regarded the much younger Salinger on his viewscreen. "Hell of a thing they put you and your ship through, Matt."

Matt chuckled. "I hadn't noticed," he said. "In my time in command, I figured it was just par for the course."

"I got a bit of a problem myself," Waverly confided, even leaning in a bit. "Our escort for the Ambassador, Ensign Trig, just had a death in the family. Once he gets to Risa, he's catching the first transport he can to Bolarus IX. I could really use a body to get the Ambassador and our runabout back to us when Serek is through reading the Opai the riot act. Should be about a week, I expect. Ten days at most."

Matt nodded. "I'm sure I can come up with someone for you. We have a few who are scheduled to transfer out before our next mission."

"Actually, I had the body in mind already," Waverly said, shifting uncomfortably. He was about to hit upon a touchy subject. "Discipline problem, according to his mother."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "I can only think of one person that might be. This hardly seems like the sort of thing someone with a discipline problem should be taking care of."

"His father was my XO for seven years, Matt. I'd like to have a personal chat with the lad and I need a reason to get him here." As Waverly leaned back in his chair, his face did grow a doubtful frown. "What do you think of Storm? The way Eleanor tells it, he was trying to push all the way for a fellow crewmember. Doesn't exactly sound like I'd want him thrown out of an airlock."

"The ends don't justify the means, Bill," Matt answered. "When they do, we become no better than the Dominion, the Romulans, or any of the other threats the Federation has faced in its history that believe that way. He shouldn't be thrown out of airlock, no, but he should be punished for his actions. The day we start patting our fellow officers on the back for doing things that are harmful to the ideals of the Federation and everything it stands for is the day we've lost sight of who we are and where we're going."

Waverly nodded. "I hear you, Matt. And I'm not suggesting that this little errand supplant any punishment you have planned. I just want to have a face-to-face, heart-to-heart with the lad and remind him of a few things. Hell, you and I both know that the good ones always have a bit of maverick in them. That boy's grandfather started some fires that the Federation still hasn't put out." Waverly's face gathered up a bit of a grin. "And I remember hearing a few stories about an Ensign Salinger, not so long ago."

"Bending the rules a little is different from breaking the law," Matt answered, his features hardening. "There is a chain of command to be followed, and Ensign Storm stepped well outside of that chain. He bypassed his department head, his second officer and his first officer and took matters into his own hands. And, while I know that you mean well, you do realize that your request to have a heart-to-heart chat with Ensign Storm indicates a distrust in my ability to command this ship and its crew and is, essentially, an undermining of my authority?"

Waverly continued grinning, nonplused. He was getting old enough where he got to pick most battles and he wasn't going ten rounds with a man who just got knifed in the chest. "Hell, Matt...it ain't personal. If his CO was Ben Sisko, I'd be making the same request. I figure if this ol' space dog can do a damn bit of good, then I gotta try. I owe his old man that much."

"Sulu's shipping off for the Gamma Quadrant for a six month run," Matt said after a moment's pause. "How long is your talk going to take? I ask because if he's not going to manage to catch up with us, a transfer may be his best option."

"We'll meet up with you before the Sulu leaves DS9," Waverly said, waving his hand dismissively. "He's your boy, Matt. I just want to borrow him for awhile."

It was clear that Matt wasn't happy. He just stared at Waverly, jaw clenching and unclenching, for several moments before sighing. "Fine," he finally said. "I'll have him packed off to you for a pep talk so you can get him all squared away and straightened out. Hopefully you can succeed where I've so obviously failed."

"I appreciate it, Matt," Waverly said, letting his grin fall away as sincerity took hold. "And I'll consider it a personal favor to me if you'll be as hard on Storm as you're being on yourself. He deserves it. You don't."

Matt gave him a grin that held no humour. "Well, maybe you can pull me off my ship and give me a pep talk too, Bill," he answered. "I'll let Ensign Storm know about his upcoming assignment."

"Thanks, Matt," Waverly intoned, accepting that he wasn't going to be able to pull Salinger out of his morosity. "When I get him to Deep Space Nine, I'd like to suggest a joint tactical exercise for you and me to drink every drop of Romulan Ale that Quark has in stock."

"I only hope that Quark does not have much, or with his rates, he'll own our starships."

"Hell, Matt," Waverly chuckled. "Quark owes me a favor or two. And now I owe you. Thanks again. Spector out." Waverly's face was replaced by the Federation logo.

Matt stared at the blank screen for several moments before he let out a long sigh. Then, with only a slight twinge of pain, he stood up to go break the news to Ensign Storm.

---

"Could Have Been Worse"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Main Engineering, Chief Engineer's Office; Captain's Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12, 09h15

***

"Chief Engineer's log, Stardate 57907.12.

Repairs to the Sulu are taking place as planned. I'm not going to bother listing exactly what we're repairing, because it's everything. You name it, it's broke."

Mark Thaine paused, and wondered if this wasn't really a formal enough style of report. Then he shrugged and carried on regardless.

"The damage we took was mostly to the areas toward the outer hull, and a few systems where the re-routed EPS conduits blew. Despite that, the damage will still require extensive time and-- Dammit, Computer, pause recording!"

One of his engineers was waving through the glass and pointing to something in his hands.

"Oh, for the love of..." muttered Thaine under his breath. "Alright, come!" he yelled, somewhat more loudly than needed.

The engineer came in, and Thaine recognised him as Ensign Perry Thorpe, one of the Warp Propulsion engineers, and rather excitable at the best of times. He held a PADD in his hand, and pointed at it. "Sir, we've got a problem. It's not good at all."

Thaine added it to the list of 'Things to Fix.' It was a very long list.

***

"Weapons systems..." The PADD hit the desk. "...power systems..." And another PADD. "...sensors, shields..." Two more, on top of the first two, and then a clatter of more. "All of them, it's all in need of repairs, Commander. And that's my report." The Chief of Engineering collapsed into the chair, fuming slightly.

Lyrr watched the engineer in amusement, but refrained from letting a smile slip into place. Instead, she pulled one of the PADDs from the pile and glossed over it briefly. "Estimated time for completion, Lieutenant? I'm assuming we'll have many of these systems repaired before we shove off." It was more a demand than an inquiry.

"Oh, of course!" The engineer threw his hands in the air. It was, perhaps, a little over the top. "As long as all my crew works double shifts...so much for their shore leave, eh, Commander?"

Lyrr sighed and tossed the PADD onto the pile again, then leaned back in her chair to regard the engineer. "Is that what you're suggesting, Lieutenant? If so, then granted, but I wouldn't count on you being the most popular officer in engineering after that."

"You think I don't know?" He sighed. "Sorry, Commander, but I can't ask my crew to do that. We'll be more than half fixed up before we leave, but I can't give you more than that. I don't have the crew or the time."

"I understand." Lyrr then added, "But you will have all you need in about...two weeks' time. We're due for a stop-over at DS9 early this coming month. Get the major systems up and running - shields, weapons, sensors - and once at the station, you can focus on the rest. Does that work better, Lieutenant?"

Thaine nodded. "Yeah, it does." He seemed a little lost, as if he had expected more of a fight. He almost looked disappointed. "So...did everything get resolved planet side? I've been kinda out of the loop."

Lyrr nodded equivocally, then sighed. "We're waiting on an ambassador from Starfleet to take over the discussions with the Opai. I believe any with the Ryuck will have to wait, though I imagine you'll be glad never to see them again." Her face contorted into an expression of complete perplexity and irritation. "What were they using anyway? Has anyone had a chance to analyze their weaponry?"

"I don't know...looked like Romulan plasma torpedoes to me, but you'll have to speak with Tactical. Whatever they were, they really tore us apart." He frowned, his normally stern features softening for a moment. "We lost a couple, too," he said quietly.

Lyrr nodded gravely, and focused on the padds before her instead of Thaine. "I know. We'll be having a memorial service for them in a couple days." She sighed. "I've never had to do this before," she muttered. Then, she glanced up at Thaine. "I know one of them was yours.... Would you like to say something during the ceremony?"

The engineer shook his head. "I'm not gonna stand up and talk about a man I didn't know as if I was his best friend or something. I've spoken to one of his friends, someone he worked with. They'd like to say something. So that's that."

"That's that," Lyrr repeated quietly. She smiled tightly at the engineer after a moment of subdued silence, then asked, "So the repairs... If you do need to pull officers away from shore leave, you have permission to. But Lieutenant," she added, "you could use a break too, so don't be at all hesitant to spend some time on the planet. I don't foresee this ship encountering an opposing force anytime soon, so the repairs aren't so urgent you can't step away from engineering for a few hours."

"It's not a problem, Commander. I've taken all the leave down there I want. To be honest, I'll be glad to see the back of Risa." He stood up, and looked down at the small collection of PADDs on the desk. "I'll leave those with you...in case you want to read them." It was hard to tell whether this was another of Thaine's joke's or not. His voice was level, and he kept his face perfectly straight. But still...there was a faint hint of something resembling amusement in his eyes.

Lyrr watched the mess before her with a raised eyebrow, then chuckled weakly and looked away. "I think I'll just take your word for it, Lieutenant. Keep me posted on the progress of your repairs."

"Will do, Commander," said Thaine, as he gathered up the PADDs. As he crossed to the door, he looked over his shoulder at Lyrr. "It could have been a hell of a lot worse," he commented. "A hell of a lot."

Lyrr nodded slowly as the officer stepped out of the Ready Room, then sighed. "I thought it was," she muttered.

---

"Opening Gambit"
By: Crewman Emma Summers - Medical Technician
Lt. Brennyn Scott, RN - Chief Counselor/Nurse

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12 1324hrs

***

Emma entered the counselor's officer and gave a tentative smile to the woman who bade her enter. She flicked her eyes at the counsellor's face and then back to her own feet as she sat down in the comfortable chair. She sat as if hunched up, hands pressed together between her knees and a tentative expression that replaced the smile. She waited until the counsellor sat and spoke to her before introducing herself.

Bree regarded the other woman carefully. Emma Summers definitely did not strike her as being a fellow counselor. If anything, she looked as though she was trying to do everything she possibly could not to be noticed, not to be spoken to. Her clothes seemed to hang off her, almost tent-like, and her hair, while styled neatly, had been pulled back in a simple ponytail. Was she simply shy? Or offering deference? Bree snorted at the thought. She had no real use for rank and privilege. All that mattered was that the people she worked with shared her common goal: to heal.

She sat in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. "So, Emma, tell me a little about yourself... By the way, would you like some tea or something? I apologize for forgetting my manners." She smiled benignly, hoping to put the other woman at ease and take the formality away.

"I'd like a tea please - herbal?" She shrugged and looked away and then back. "Sorry, Counsellor - I get really nervous meeting new people...you know?" She looked up into the other woman's eyes, allowing her face to relax and adopt a self-conscious smile. "It's my first real assignment and I miss the academy and I miss the starbase. It's hard to get used to a ship...." She broadened the smile a fraction. "I used to take long walks through the arboretum on Starbase sixteen, but there isn't one on the Sulu...." Her words seemed a little gushy - rushed. As if once she managed to speak it all came tumbling out. Emma looked back at the Counsellor and came to a halt. "Sorry..." she mumbled.

Scott smiled politely to the young woman, rising to get her tea from the replicator. Inwardly she wondered if, had she had a different childhood, she would have been anything like Emma Summers. The young woman was obviously working to discover her niche in the fleet, perhaps too hard, but there was a naive charm about her that made Bree smile. Scott couldn't recall a time when she wasn't expected to exhibit the poise and professionalism of a woman well beyond her years. Looking back now, it was all so absurd, and it sometimes made her wonder if a part of her spirit had been sacrificed in her drive for approval.

Handing Summers the steaming cup of tea, Bree waved off the apology. "No need to be sorry, Emma. I'm still relatively new to this fleet business as well, and I know how hard it can be to adjust to new places and faces, but I'm sure you'll be just fine. I've assigned you to Gamma Shift to avoid a conflict with your sickbay shift. Gamma tends to be the slowest of the three, but I figure it's a good place to do some observing and to get your bearings. Tell me, Emma, what made you select medicine and counseling as a career choice?" Brennyn was aware that her own motives for choosing the same career path were rather atypical.

Emma smiled warmly as she used both hands to hold the mug. It was pleasant tasting and sweet. She looked over the rim of the mug and said, "Well, medical was my first choice because I just love helping people...and it's just so natural...it feels right..." she smiled self-consciously. "Counselling wasn't really my option...it was the only secondary that fit with my major's schedule at the academy. I haven't had much practical - just a few shifts on the starbase...." She shrugged. "I'm okay I guess - but I put most of my skills to work in the med area - counselling skills are really complimentary. Grief counselling and some trauma stuff...."

Bree nodded. "I found nursing complimented my skills quite nicely, though there is much I'm still learning in that regard," Bree continued. "It's important to me that all my officers are competent enough to handle just about anything that comes down the pike, so if you're serious about working in the counseling department on a regular basis, I'd like you to train as much as possible. In the meantime, I'm sure you can teach me a thing or two around sickbay," she added with a smile.

She took another sip and smiled. "Thanks for the Gamma shift rotation - it's my favorite time of the day! It's so quiet...."

Scott grinned. "Don't bet on it, I've already spoken to your shift leader about your training, and I've been assured that you'll learn the ins and outs fairly quickly. It is the slowest shift, but I purposely assigned you there just until you get your feet wet. There's no sense placing you in a pressure cooker your first week."

Emma grinned. "Thanks," she said, meaning it. The manifest had told her that Benedict was on Alpha shift - that gave her plenty of time to settle in and establish herself without even seeing him. It took some of her trepidation away. She still didn't know how she would react when she met him for the first time in her new persona. Being a counselor was even better than she'd hoped. She would have access to psyche profiles, and the introduction she needed. Her plan changed in a moment. She would see Benedict as a Counselor. With his past it was easy to manipulate a suggestion that he attend sessions...perhaps even using Brennyn Scott herself. Let her get to know who he had been in his past life...set him up nicely...and she looked up into Brennyn Scott's eyes and smiled. "I'm sure I'll get my feet wet just fine..." she said as she took another sip of suddenly delicious tea. "This is great tea..." she added.

Brennyn chuckled. "Thanks, I can give a replicator order with the best of them." Scott was a raktajino woman, so she saw very little need to tinker with the magic that was what she jokingly called the Food Genie.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Lieutenant Scott, I really do appreciate it. I haven't had a lot of practical experience as I said, but I am a quick study and I did get high scores in my academy exams. It would be great if I could sit in on some of your evaluations..." She had a look of anticipation on her face as she regarded the senior counsellor. "I'm sure that you have a lot to teach me...and I'd really like to learn from someone with a similar perspective...with our nursing background." She shrugged.

Bree smiled and couldn't help but feel somewhat flattered. It appeared Emma Summers was a confident young woman once she got comfortable with her surroundings. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, Emma."

She paused, considering the request. She supposed she could have assigned her the basic holodeck training simulations, but frowning, Scott was reminded of how artificial they were. It was difficult to feign caring for photons and light. It felt a bit too much like acting, something she was sure this shy young woman would find awkward. "I suppose that would provide you with valuable experience, but my first priority has to lie with counselor-client confidentiality. If the opportunity presents itself, I'll ask the person in question if they're comfortable with an observer, but in the meantime I'll set you up with the training sims."

Emma nodded and gave the Counselor a shy smile. "I'll start with examining the psyche profiles of the crew if that's okay? That will let me get a real feel for the crew and what I need to do here.... I'm working Beta shift in medical too. It will be great to help you, sir - it's exciting!" She let a little girlish enthusiasm to color her tone. "I'll do the simulations...." She screwed up her face a little. "But I do find them a bit false.... It's hard to feel the emotional content of a computer program.... I'm not sure if I'm explaining myself too clearly." She looked up at the Counselor feeling for that connection.

"I know exactly what you mean," replied Bree, feeling like her mind had been read. She quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn't exactly a huge leap for them to share a common perception about holograms as patients. "But they are an excellent starting point for training. As a counselor you'll be expected to assist all sorts of people, including those you may find hard to connect with. This will be no different, but I'll be happy to help you."

Emma's answering smile was genuine. Perfect. She already had the feel of this woman. She was the type that needed to feel needed. Brennyn Scott was a mother figure. The best way to get into her confidence was to show her that Emma Summers needed guidance and someone to look up to. A protégé. "I'm so glad to be on the Sulu, sir.... I really need the kind of guidance that you can provide me." She smiled again - embarrassed to have to reveal the need to be guided by someone as knowledgeable as Brennyn Scott.

Scott smiled, a twinge of warning going up and down her spine. How was it that Emma could be so enthusiastic about a position she herself said was selected simply because it fit best with her medical studies? Or was Brennyn simply suspicious of anyone who didn't love this job as much as she did? Smiling inwardly, Bree assessed Emma Summers once more, determining the young woman simply needed to be given the opportunity to develop into a confident counselor. It wasn't that long ago that Scott herself had been in that position. Who knew? She could just like the idea of helping another find herself in the big world that was Starfleet.

"No need to thank me, Emma. I have no qualms about helping another get what she wants if she's prepared to put in the time and effort required. I imagine we have much to teach each other." And with this thought, her smile was truly genuine.

Emma grinned. "Thanks, Lieutenant - really. I'll put in what ever it takes to get what I want." She nodded. "And I want to be the best I can be...." She laughed. "Sorry - I sound like one of those silly recruiting posters!" It was so kind of the counselor to put it that way. Emma was sure that she could find a way for the Chief Counselor to help her get exactly what she wanted.

Bree dismissed Summer's embarrassment with a wave and a smile, though her enthusiasm and exuberance still struck her funny given how reserved she was at the beginning of their meeting. Perhaps it really just took Emma some time to warm up to people. "As I said, I can appreciate eagerness so long as it's coupled with a willingness to work hard. If you don't have any more questions or concerns, I'll leave you to get settled?"

"No - thanks, Counselor," Emma smiled. "It will be a real learning experience for me. I'll get started tonight on those profiles." She stood and with a last parting smile she left the counselor's office.

She couldn't believe her luck. She now had complete access to the profiles of the entire crew. Assessments and issues - the type of information that she could use to best advantage in gaining leverage. It was perfect. Better than she had ever hoped. She walked away from Brennyn Scott with a predatory smile and inner laughter that echoed in her mind gleefully.

---

"Planning"
By: Lieutenant Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Lieutenant (J.G.) Arthas Hex - Deputy Chief of Security

Location: Security Offices, USS Sulu
Stardate: 570907.12, 15h56

***

Beta shift was starting. Junior Lieutenant Hex had been awake for two hours already, an hour of that time spent in his small alcove in the security offices. Arthas, after three weeks felt that he had settled into his new position. It was a position of high-responsibility, and although two years ago he would have doubted somebody who would have told him where he would be today, he also felt confident that he could deal with the responsibility, and deal with it well.

As well as becoming comfortable with his new post, he was now at ease with his Trill symbiont - Hex. He hadn't realised at the time but he had never really communicated well with his symbiont, and now that he did he realised why people trained their children from the day they were born, simply to make them eligible to have one when they grew into adulthood. Arthas was truly blessed, and now he knew it.

About bloody time, came the 'voice' of Clavain, one of Hex's previous host's.

Arthas smiled as he stood up from his desk

You always said I was a slow learner, Clavain, he laughed inwardly. He believed that he was getting better at doing this now, without making any indication to the outside world that he was doing it. It was spooky really, laughing without moving at all, but still laughing.

Arthas shook his head as he grabbed his padd and entered the main corridor that held his office along with the CSO's and a few others for various officers or other crewmen and women.

"Computer, Time," Arthas said.

"The time is 15h58," the Computer obediently replied.

Arthas tapped his commbadge. "Lieutenant Hex to Crewman Kaven Lucas."

"Lucas here, what can I do for you, sir," came the voice of the crewman.

"Can you take Tactical on the bridge for 15 minutes? I am planning on speaking to Lieutenant T'Kal," Arthas asked/ordered.

"Of course, sir, I shall head there to relieve the Chief now," Lucas replied.

"Thank you, Crewman. Hex out," Arthas said, tapping his combadge again to end transmission.

Arthas stood straight next to T'Kal's office door and continued work on his PADD, while he waited for his immediate superior to return from his post on the bridge.

Alpha shift was fairly quiet. The Sulu was undergoing repairs with engineers having precedence all over the ship. The recent fight with the Farehn'ti had bruised the starship, and Benedict was assisting the Chief Engineer in running tactical responses through the weapons systems to iron out the minor bugs that always seemed to surface as a consequence of replacing parts and chips. It seemed that medical was getting in on the act too - the Intrepid's computer system was semi-organic and a batch of bio-gel packs had shown signs of a fungal infection. Benedict smiled at himself at the tactical station - his ship had caught a cold.

Crewman Lucas stepped up to the tactical station and grinned at his chief. "Sir - Lieutenant Hex asked me to relieve him for a few minutes. He's waiting for you down decks, sir."

Benedict nodded. He showed the young crewman what he'd been doing and gave instructions for him to continue. He didn't mind Hex sending him up to the Bridge, Lucas was due for some tactical time anyway. He patted the enthusiastic security officer on the shoulder and left him to it. It only took a minute to reach security, and he saw Arthas leaning against his office wall, concentrating on a padd.

"Hey, Arthas," Benedict smiled. "What's up?" He passed him and walked into the small office - rather a glass walled alcove with a half desk, two chairs and terminal and a small replicator - all the comforts of home. As he ordered his raktajino (it came in a replicated USS Windsor non-spill mug) he spun around and sat heavily in his chair. His leg ached and he didn't want to admit it, but walking the decks after the medic told him to rest it may not have been the best choice....

Hex sat in the opposing chair. Benedict lifted his booted feet and rested them with a sigh on the edge of his desk. The Bajoran sipped the strong Klingon beverage and gritted his teeth with the initial taste. It was like tasting battery acid with an aftertaste of grit. After a while you got used to it. Especially the hit it gave you - about a hundred times more effective than Human coffee.

"Good afternoon, sir. Firstly I wanted to ensure that my chief was alright, I read your report. It was a shame that I could not have been there," Arthas said, his PADD now in his lap, as he dared not put it on the chief's desk. It just didn't seem polite or respectful.

Benedict grinned at the Trill. "Your chief is fine - don't mother me, Arthas. You had a job to do on the Sulu - what's the problem?" He sipped his 'jino and grimaced. "You don't come with padd in hand for nothing - what's up?"

Arthas laughed and picked up the padd. "Nothing to worry about, sir, just damned paperwork. This afternoon I just realised that I haven't properly met you yet. And would enjoy getting to know my superior. We are meant to be a team, and I thought it was about time that we got talking?"

Benedict grinned. "True enough. Though a get to know me session is better done in the officer's lounge," he grinned wolfishly, "or better still over a game or two of poker.... Do you play, Arthas?"

Arthas smiled. "It's one of my favourite games. I would enjoy beating you. Uh, sir!"

Benedict laughed good naturedly. "I'm sure you would.... I was thinking of starting up a regular game - one evening a week, holodeck three, something with a little atmosphere and a feeling of fun. I picked up this nineteen-twenties holodeck program called 'Bugsy Malone.' It's Human, typically - but I used to play poker on the Galaxy and the Windsor. Of course period dress is required...." He grinned. "It's fun. I don't get 'fun' much in my job, so how about it?" He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. "Maybe I can persuade a few others to join us...three more players should do it." He thought of Farrell the operations officer who was getting a reputation on board for being shady, but who had proven his worth already on Risa. Maybe the Chief Engineer. The man had a hint of sarcasm and dark humor, but Benedict guessed that he may be into a game of chance or three. He was sure he could come up with another name. Maybe Gui? She'd be interested...besides a woman added unpredictability to the game. Rumour was she also had a thing for Farrell - but then it seemed most women on the Sulu had a thing for him if the locker room chat was true! He smiled. She might even throw off Farrell's game....

"Oh...and in private, Arthas - you can call me Ben. We have to work closely together and you're absolutely right. It's a good idea to get to know one another. You play Springball at all? or Gravball? I've been after a good opponent for a while."

Uhh, Springball, Arthas! Have you played? I could teach you if you'd like, said the voice of Clavain in Arthas' symbiont.

Arthas didn't reply to Clavain yet but smiled, "I used to be pretty good," he lied; he hadn't played ever but by the sounds of it Clavain would teach him. "It may take me a couple of games to get back into it. But I haven't heard of Gravball. Have you ever ridden a Shemlok?"

Benedict gave him a quizzical look. "What the hell is a Shemlok?"

"Sort of like a horse. But they have partial intelligence, enough to know a few words of Trill. If you enjoy horse riding, you will love shemlok-riding," Arthas said, smiling.

"I don't enjoy climbing on the back of an animal," Benedict grinned. "I'd rather use a hover-bike. They don't try to kill you." He sipped his 'jino and looked across the table at Arthas Hex. "I'm going to be running a security exercise in a couple days. Ship-wide. Hostage scenario. I'll be counting on you to lead the security department while I take care of Team Red." Traditionally Team Blue was the good guys and Team Red the bad guys. "I'm still working on the basics and I'll provide a brief soon. We'll see how well the crew responds to a boarding party attack."

"That sounds like fun," Arthas laughed. "As long as we don't get boarded for real while it's happening I suppose. Will I be able to select my own squad, or do the reds have that honour?"

The reply was an evil grin. "What do you think? I've managed to rope the XO into being on Red Team," he laughed. "You'll have your work cut out for you." He looked at his watch. "You should get to the Bridge and relieve Lucas. I'll forward the details to you later. It'll happen while we're underway to Deep Space Nine."

Arthas stood. "Aye, aye, sir. I look forward to the drill and the poker. Perhaps we could have a game of Springball soon."

'"Sure thing - and call me Ben. 'Specially socially, okay?"

"Alright. 'Tusai.' Goodbye, sir." Arthas said in Trill and Federation Standard.

Benedict nodded. "Thanks, Arthas. Have a good shift. I've got plenty to do on Beta shift in here too." He waved absently as the young man left for his own duties.

Arthas turned on his heel and walked out, heading for the tactical station on the bridge

---

"Mainly Mundane"
By: Ensign Nathalie Gui; Communications Specialist
Lieutenant (JG) Arthas Hex; Deputy Security Chief

Location: USS Sulu; Armoury
Stardate 57907.12, 16h00

***

Gui absentmindedly re-adjusted the sleeves of her uniform jacket for what was probably the third time as she stood in the Turbolift. Grateful she was the lift's sole occupant Nathalie sighed heavily, her eyes idly watching the lights on the wall as the lift descended. In the course of the past week much had happened: the attacks on the crew, finding the perpetrator responsible for the Captain's condition, her with her transitioning phase over to Security and then there was Mason Farrell.

Nathalie chuckled softly to herself as she thought about him. Mason was handsome, a little unorthodox in his methods and a great friend. Idly she wondered how he truly felt towards her; she enjoyed spending time with him a lot and he was a great flirt. Flirting, maybe she was coming off too strongly in the area, he did seem quite on edge the morning she dropped in to visit him, but who wouldn't? Sighing sadly Nat cast her thoughts aside as she stepped off the Turbolift; last thing they probably wanted to deal with was some lovesick bird like herself.

Straightening her shoulders Gui stepped inside the Armoury and sought out Arthas Hex. She spotted the Trill speaking to a pair of officers so she decided it would be best to stand off to the side and wait until he was finished speaking with both of them.

"Ensign Nathalie Gui reporting for duty, sir," she stated after the Lieutenant turned to face her.

Arthas turned around and looked the ensign up and down. The Human female was at least five inches shorter than himself and around the same age. He had read through Gui's Starfleet personnel file the previous night and he remembered that she was a communications officer who wanted to join the security department.

Arthas stood up straight. "Welcome, Ensign Gui. I am Lt. Hex, deputy chief of security. You wish to join the security department?"

Gui nodded, "Yes, sir. Lieutenant T'Kal told me that I would be working with you as my instructor in mundane security tasks. Along with the required academic studying for my transfer to security I have also been working some double shifts; one in Ops then here in Security."

"Sounds like you are determined, Ensign," Arthas commented. "As you probably know, Ensign, one of the major skills needed to be an efficient security officer is to be able to fire a phaser or a phaser rifle with excellent accuracy. How do you rate your own skills with a weapon?"

"I would have to go with average; I seem to think I can handle myself better without any weapons. When it comes to unarmed combat I do well; handling weapons like phasers, I have good aim but I think I could do better."

Arthas raised an eyebrow. "Unarmed combat. Well, unless you end up fighting Klingons, you won't be using that skill too much during combat missions. Let's go to the holodeck, I'll set up some low-ability opponents and we'll see how you get on. Follow me please."

Those words said, Nathalie followed Arthas out of the Armoury and to the holodeck.

***

Arthas went to the panel at the side of the holodeck and ordered Starfleet-standard issue weapons to appear on a rack.

Arthas walked over to the rack and began to speak, indicating each weapon as he described them.

"Type I Hand Phaser, very small, can be hidden in pockets of your uniform, ideal for secrecy, not powerful nor is it too accurate.

"Type II Hand Phaser, a larger hand phaser, standard weapon given to each crewman during attack or routine away mission. More powerful and accurate than the smaller Type I.

"Type III Phaser Rifle, the largest of the standard-issue Starfleet weapons, much more powerful and accurate than either of the other two weapons, however takes more time to get used to it and a hell of a long time to master."

Arthas looked at Nathalie, who was nodding after every few words and concentrating to remember the details of what he was saying

"Choose your weapon."

Nathalie picked up a Type II Phaser and nodded to Arthas. "I'll go with this one."

"Computer load Security Training Live Target practice level Alpha-5," Arthas ordered.

The Holodeck transformed into what appeared to be a planet's surface. There were the remains of various metallic buildings around the pair of security officers with plenty of debris to aid in using cover.

Arthas turned to Nathalie who was holding her Type II Phaser in her hands determinedly.

"If you take three shots in the Torso or Head and the session is over. There are ten opponents, all Romulans armed with typical hand disrupters. You can use any tactics available to you. I'll be observing but you won't be able to see me once it starts. Shout my name and I will pause the session, likewise I shall pause the session if in my opinion you do something wrong," Arthas said.

"Do you understand, Ensign?"

"Completely, sir," Gui replied, looking over at Hex.

"Good luck," Arthas said.

"Thanks."

"Computer, begin," Arthas said, and at the end of his sentence he vanished from view.

Gui weighed the phaser in her hands before adjusting the settings on her weapon. Treading forward cautiously she held the weapon at ready. Almost immediately she was met with a showering spray of phaser fire. Running off to side Gui strafed as she fired her weapon in the area the shots were fired. Ducking behind a building Nathalie carefully peeked around the corner, gray eyes searching for the marksman.

A spark of energy whizzed by her face and Nathalie quickly fired in return before ducking around the building. Well that didn't take very long... Peeking around the building Gui fired at the Romulan advancing her way and hit him in his right shoulder, distracted his companion and returned fire, earning Gui a hit in the stomach.

Grunting Nathalie rushed forward and fired at the Romulan before diving into a downward roll at the ground. Green energy from the Romulan's phaser pistol flew by her shoulder, sending miniature spark showers around her.

Kneeling below the rock she aimed at the Romulan and promptly blasted him in the head. "Arthas! Ten to one a little on the uneven side wouldn't you say? I keep expecting to become swarmed out here!" Nathalie shouted as she continued to dodge attacks from the Romulan warriors.

Arthas' voice came from thin air. "I think you'll find that it is six on one now, Ensign," he said matter-of-factly.

Adjusting the setting on her phaser Nathalie fired at two Romulans atop one of the buildings aiming down at her. Nathalie missed and instead knocked down a large support holding up the platform they were standing on previously. Both Romulans fell to the ground, buried under debris. "Uh...correction it's now four on one...Lieutenant," she remarked, checking her phaser's setting again. Her eyes went wide as she noted it was set quite high.

Gui jumped, feeling a stinging sensation in her back from phaser fire. Turning around she could just make out one of the Romulans running away. Running, she quickly raced across up to where she had been fired upon, and promptly began to trot up the well worn stairs.

Nat quickly hugged the wall as two of her Romulan foes ran across into another hall connected to the building. Her presence having gone unnoticed Gui fired into the room the Romulans just came out of, instantly hitting one of the other warriors right in the chest. "How am I doing so far?" she questioned Hex as she kept out a watchful eye for her foes.

Arthas came out of his invisibility. He walked over to Gui and stood in front of her. Nathalie realised that the two Romulans were now perfectly still.

"Not very well, Ensign," Arthas said sternly. "You're dead."

She sighed and lowered her weapon. "Where did I go wrong?" she asked, figuring she was more than certain she knew where she made her mistake.

Arthas walked by and nudged one of the dead Romulan's with his foot.

He looked up at Gui. "Nowhere really; only experienced officers can beat this program. I believe that T'Kal, myself, and a couple of the more experienced security officers have done so in the past."

Anticipating Gui's next question Arthas said, "The point was to see how you dealt with tremendous pressure. If you are ordered, during your duty, to fight against the odds in such a way that it seems certain that you shall die, you must fight anyway. You only complained once, Ensign; many candidates stand up and storm out. In fact I was very impressed with your aim. Well done."

"I understand. I'm very glad that my marksmanship meets to your liking as well. I have been doing my best to improve upon the area..." Nathalie stated as she nodded to Hex. Ironic that I improved those skills by gaining help from a certain Ops officer...

"Have you inspected the Tactical station at all? Can you use it?" Arthas asked Gui.

"I can't say I have had much use operating a Tactical station, sir," Gui remarked, looking back to Arthas.

"Well, when being a security officer the possibility will arise that you may have to use the tactical station," Arthas said. "So let's show you the basics."

Arthas said, "Computer, show the bridge of the USS Sulu."

The surroundings they were in disappeared and the pair were then standing in the middle of the bridge. It was very strange to see it deserted like this; a minimum of 15 crewman always manned the bridge even during gamma shift.

Arthas indicated the tactical station and followed Gui up to it. The pair stood side by side in the station and Arthas began to instruct her as to where the panels were and for what.

As the hour flew by Arthas began to look at Nathalie more and more; he didn't know what it was but looking at Gui's face was becoming an excellent past-time.

"So," Arthas said, finalising the training session. "You know about weapons, and you obviously have good aim. The tactical station has been explained and perhaps a few gamma shift duties on the tactical station may be in order for practice. We still have a few things to cover so shall we do this again? Say about 17h00 tomorrow?"

"Sure, sounds good. Sny place in particular you think we should meet? Security Office? Armoury?"

Arthas laughed silently at his urge to say 'my quarters.' "The security office would be the best."

"The security office it is then. Anything else then?"

"Dismissed, Ensign." Arthas said.

"Aye, sir," Nathalie replied, nodding.

"Oh, and one more thing, when we are not on duty, my name is Arthas and it was wonderful to meet you," he said, smiling and offering his hand.

Nathalie smiled in return and shook Arthas' offered hand. "Only if you agree to call me Nathalie and not Ensign...off duty of course," she added, winking.

"Of course, Nathalie," Arthas said.

Nathalie turned and walked out of the Holodeck. Arthas' eyes followed her trim body out until the doors closed and he breathed out.

"Wow," he simply said as he followed her out of the door.

---

"Out of the Box"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor

Location: USS Sulu, Chambers' Quarters
Stardate: 57907.12 16h20

***

Ainsley entered the quarters that she shared with Ai'Pal and took a deep breath. She felt like she had been on the verge of suffocating all day, and finally she was able to take a breath. She removed the jacket of her uniform, threw it over the back of the couch, and went to the replicator to get herself a nice cup of tea.

"Green tea, hot, with a touch of honey." When the cup materialized in the replicator she picked it up and cradled it between her hands, allowing the warmth to comfort her. Her day had spiralled downward since her meeting with Natalia Druschev; all she could think about was Mason and how much of a fool she had been.

She turned to go sit on the couch when something caught her eye.

In the center of the living room was a large box, over a meter on a side, wrapped in blue striped paper with an explosion of ribbon adorning the top.

How in the world could she have missed that on the way in? I must be more rattled than I thought, she thought to herself. She considered calling for Ai'Pal to explain how this got here, but remembered that he worked Beta shift and wouldn't be in his room. Besides, there was really only one source that could be given credit for this kind of thing.

She set down her tea and pulled the ribbon off the top of the box. Inside was a bulbous deep blue fabric sack. Ainsley poked it tentatively and felt the pellets within shift. A grin spread on her lips. A bean bag chair. And a note; a simple slip of paper, written hastily.

"This is probably the most uncomfortable chair I've ever sat in," the note read, "but you said you wanted one. 01h00, Main Shuttle Bay."

Mason. This had to be from him. Her grin widened for a moment, but then she remembered everything that had happened that day. She frowned, crumpled the note and threw it back in the box with the chair and then headed out into the corridor.

***20h35***

Ainsley sat on her bed staring at the bean bag chair sitting proudly in the corner of her room. The crumpled note was flattened out and sat on the bed beside her.

When she had left her quarters earlier she was hoping to do something that would occupy her mind. She had ducked into the lounge for a bit but the talk there seemed to all involve Mason in some aspect, and the same was true of the mess hall. Finally she had given up and wandered the corridors, allowing her thoughts to go anywhere they wanted.

She wanted to show up at the shuttle bay and scream and yell and tell him how much he had hurt her, to make him feel the torment that she had been going through since that morning. But she knew that would accomplish absolutely nothing, and most likely just make her look like a fool.

She'd finally returned to her quarters intent on leaving the present where it was, and head to her room. She would return it to Mason the next day. But she couldn't just walk past it. A part of her was amazed that he had even remembered about the bean bag chairs; she'd only mentioned them once while they were having breakfast.

So she had picked up the crumpled note and pulled the big chair out of the box and brought them into her room, and that left her sitting there staring.

Her thoughts had been all over the spectrum over the last while. At one point she convinced herself that she should go to the shuttle bay and give him a piece of her mind, then she'd decided to just ignore the present and give it to him with "Return to Sender" stamped on it. Then she'd thrown herself back on her bed and cried because she didn't know what to do.

She picked up the note again and reread it. There was something odd about this, a puzzle that tugged at the back of her mind. The note itself was done quickly, where the rest of the present must surely have taken time to plan and place. Was there a hidden meaning in what he was saying? She'd told him that she wanted chairs like this for her office, and then he gave her one saying that it was the most uncomfortable thing he'd ever sat in. Was he actually talking about the chair, or was he talking about counselling itself?

"Give it up, Ains!" she almost shouted at herself. "You're tired and you're trying to read things that aren't there." She threw the note back down on her bed and got up and started pacing the room, still not sure what she was going to do.

---

"Breaking In"
Ensign Ai'Pal
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Science Lab 2, USS Sulu
Stardate 57907.12, 17h15

***

Ai'Pal stood in the Science Lab on his Beta shift. He had been working for what had only been an hour. His work had been substandard so far, researching data on sand samples from Risa. The second half of the shift would involve looking at damaged shards of wood from the numerous fights and skirmishes that the crew had been involved with. What ever he had to do, none of it had much relevance to the mission on the ship, or anything that Starfleet gave priority, but he had no right to challenge orders, and his pursuit of knowledge, not to mention his own personal discipline, commanded he work.

He did not know how long she had been standing there, but as he looked up from his research, Lt. Tagliesh stood in the doorway to the lab, arms folded. She did not look best pleased.

"You're the one," she said with a slight sneer, "aren't you?" Tagliesh narrowed her eyes in fierce determination as she marched towards the Vulcan. She halted abruptly before him and passed her eyes over him, stopping on his inherently conceited expression. She imagined it was genetic for Vulcans. "I go on shore leave for a week, and you manage to create a disaster of my science lab. Samples of Sarcomastigophora blastocystica stored in a separate section from Sarcodina melanophoria? What in all hells are you trying to do, Ensign? It took weeks to get everything in order and only one for you to screw it up! At least it can't be said that you Vulcans aren't persistent."

Ai'Pal raised his eyebrow and wondered whether Human's could benefit from the Kholinar Discipline. This one certainly could. "You will find from my Duty logs, Lieutenant, that my reorganisation of the science labs took little more than 7 hours and 39 minutes. You will find that the organisation of the department is far more logical. Your Sarcomastigophora blastocystica is under Viruses, because it is a virus. The samples for Sarcodina melanophoria are stored under general biological samples although it is also referenced under photosynthetic catalysts, bioorganic masses and the planet that the samples have been found on."

Ai'Pal took a short breath. Before the Lieutenant could say another word, he continued speaking. "Computer. Sho'alam'Tah." Ai'Pal turned his terminal toward Tagliesh. "This, Lieutenant, is my categorization chart. You can see the time savings that this will provide. You only need to think of the most logical place that your sample would be and you are guaranteed to find it."

"Logical to an illogical Vulcan maybe," she riposted. "They were organized in their original manner for a purpose, Ensign, or did you just think we stored samples in random places because that's the sort of illogical thing Humans do?" Xay ignored the Ensign's chart and pushed the terminal back into position so she could lay both hands atop its surface. "We had those samples arranged according to phylogenetic groupings because, Ensign, tracing evolutionary patterns among those groups and comparing them to similar organisms found on different planets to study possible prehistoric migrations of over one hundred races in the Alpha Quadrant is our current research project. If you had bothered to think about that before messing around with my labs, you would've known that. Instead, you've wasted our time."

"Very well, Lieutenant. I shall restore the filing system back to its original state. I have backed up my changes, so it will only take 2 hours to restore the labs." Ai'Pal had done this as a matter of precaution. Humans are so illogical.

"Would this be an acceptable solution, Lieutenant?"

"Of course," Xay replied, "but I've got a better one." She leaned over the console and narrowed her eyes at the Vulcan. "Ask me before you attempt to do anything like this again. And if at all possible," she added with a smirk, "try not to be so logical next time."

"Yes, Lieutenant. I will ensure that this happens in the future. Is there anything else that I can assist you with this morning, or will that be all?" The Vulcan stood emotionless. It was somewhat amazing that both meetings with his CO had been negative, but then Ai'Pal wouldn't know amazement if it jumped up and slapped him across the face.

Xayella smirked at the officer and fluttered her hand dismissively in the air as she replied in an imperious manner, "Nothing for now, Ensign, as long as you can refrain from erring again." Haughtily lifting her chin, Xayella pushed away and strode out of the lab.

After the Lieutenant had left, Ai'Pal worked quietly and efficiently toward restoring the filling system. It would take time but then, he wouldn't be fully restoring the set up anyway. He quite liked the Vulcan commands.

---

"Past & Present"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla - First Officer
Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security

Location: T'Kal's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12 2000hrs

***

Lyrr had been informed of T'Kal's return to the ship, to recuperate in the comfort of his own quarters, and not in sickbay or on Risa; she didn't blame him. Risa had become somewhat inhospitable considering all that had transpired there, and Lyrr herself was glad their stay had almost come to an end.

The Farehn'ti had been dealt with, Matt was awake and well, and Lyrr had almost managed to achieve three hour's rest the previous night, though she felt guilty for it. There was still so much to do.... Her first stop of the day was to Lt. T'Kal's quarters, and it was likely the hardest. Did she thank him again for his valiant efforts in subduing Viata? Or did she reprove him for disobeying a direct command when she'd ordered him to lower the force field? Finally, did she even bother revisiting the entire incident and simply put it past them both?

Lyrr sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate the pain radiating through her skull. She was convinced she needed a vacation, but was too proud to take one. Duty came first.

Once at T'Kal's door, Lyrr glanced up and down the corridor, ensuring no one would witness her there. Enough rumours were already floating around the ship without ones involving she and the CSO evolving. With a quick tap, she activated the door chime and stepped a good distance away from the door...in case T'Kal had decided to greet her without much clothing on again.

Inside his quarters Benedict stopped strumming his guitar. The door chime had sounded. He simply said, "Come," in a manner that the ship's computer would interpret as 'please open the door.' It did just that. Lyrr Tayla stood on the far side and he could only smile at the initial look of expectancy upon her face. Benedict gave her the benefit of the smile and set his twelve-stringed instrument aside as he stood.

He was in uniform - he was most comfortable in the outfit, and his leg was only sore now. Certainly it would not prevent him from attending to duty - but the doctor had insisted he rest it. So he stood beside his sofa and waved the Commander into his quarters.

"Commander - I am glad to see that you are well." He waved at the chair opposite. "Please - can I get you anything?" He kept his voice light - but his eyes watched hers for any hint of the reason she was here. Did she think that he had failed her? He'd thought that many times since waking up. He felt that he had. He had just been lucky. His face was a mask of calm - inscrutable.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant." She smiled and strode forward to accept the offered seat. "You know you should be resting," she chided him gently. "So, I won't keep you long."

"The leg's okay..." he grinned at her. "Just a scratch.... I've had worse." He walked over to the replicator and ordered a pot of Japanese Green tea - it was a complex mix of rice husks and aromatic herbs that he had programmed for himself. He turned from the replicator with a traditional pot and two earthenware cups.

"I wouldn't be a polite host if I didn't provide refreshments - and you should try this." He knelt beside his low lacquered table and began the ritual of preparing the tea. While he poured he looked up at her. "The medical officer told me that you saved my life. Thank you." His face grew serious as he passed her a cup. He offered it in traditional fashion - and bowed his head slightly as she reached for it. "I won't fail you again."

Lyrr wrapped both hands around the cup as she accepted it, but her eyes remained focused inquisitively on T'Kal. "You didn't fail me, Lieutenant. We're both alive, aren't we?"

He sat back and considered her reply, holding her eyes for a moment. There was more to those words than she realized. "Yes - we are both alive. That is worth celebrating." He smiled sadly. "I still feel that I failed you. It was my duty to protect you - I almost got you killed."

Lyrr chuckled lightly. "Hardly almost killed," she quipped. "And I'm capable of defending myself, Lieutenant. If I had gotten killed, the fault would have been my own. You defended me, almost at the cost of your own life, so there's nothing to be forgiven."

Benedict nodded. "Then let's drink to a new life," he smiled at her. "And good Karma." He drank the tea and sat back on his heels. There seemed much more he wanted to say, but he felt restrained in doing so. They had shared a close brush with death - and more. Sitting on the sofa placed her in a higher position so that she looked down at him. His long raven hair was unbound and hung straight past his shoulders; the lock of pure white almost shone at his forelock. His smile was a genuine one; it made his violet eyes seem less severe.

Lyrr smiled in return as she let the tendrils of steam from the tea drift up her nose. It was a soothing, earthy aroma, and when she sipped at the warm liquid, all the tense muscles seemed to loosen, and for once in a long while, she felt relaxed. Lyrr sighed. "It's good," she said softly. Her eyes locked with T'Kal's again as she proceeded to drink in more of the tea. After a long swallow, she leaned forward to set the cup down upon T'Kal's table. "I probably shouldn't keep you," she told him. "You'll want some rest." But she made no move to leave.

He smiled as he drank more of the tea. "I've had all the rest I can handle," he replied. "Have you eaten? I was about to make something... Well, replicate it anyway." He grinned. "It's been a while since I entertained anyone other than Romulan Officers..." He looked up into her eyes and said, "I owe you dinner at least..." He didn't want her to leave. "Please stay."

Lyrr opened her mouth to decline, but kneeling at her feet and holding her eyes in an unfaltering stare that gave his request the feel of an entreaty, she couldn't bring herself to disappoint him. "Dinner..." she repeated hesitantly. Then she smiled. "Will we have to eat on the floor?"

He laughed, "Yes - I'm afraid we will." He indicated the two cushions that were tucked under the table. "It's comfortable...." He stood and picked up the cups. His leg gave a twinge of pain but he ignored it as he went to the replicator. "I have an extensive menu of Japanese cuisine" --he smiled over his shoulder-- "or you could be daring and try some Romulan or Klingon dishes..." He frowned, "But then again Klingon food is only good when it's alive...." He laughed and replicated a menu. Coming back to the table he passed it over.

As she looked at it, he busied himself with opening the small drawer in the side of his low table. Platters and chop sticks were laid carefully at opposite sides of the table. "I have some sake too," he grinned. "Rice wine, aromatic and smooth; served hot." He waited for her to choose something, watching her eyes flick over the menu. For some reason he felt vaguely nervous. He was acutely aware that Lyrr Tayla was his superior in rank, and that there were customs and mannerisms in these situations that alleviated any risk of compromise. There was something about her that indicated a loneliness that he also felt in himself. He decided that he wanted to get to know her as a person. He had no friends on board the Sulu, and Lyrr Tayla would be a good start. He was also attracted to her, and it had been a while since any woman had drawn his attention. The fact that she too was a Bajoran made it even better.

Lyrr shifted atop the pillow elevating her slightly off the ground and frowned quizzically at the menu. "I've never had Japanese before.... Admittedly, I have no idea what any of this is. I mean, what's...maki?" she asked, fumbling with the word.

He grinned. "Maki is sushi - raw fish served with a variety of rice, seaweed, fish eggs... It's a rather acquired taste... I must admit that replicated is not nearly as good as the real thing. The Tempura on the other hand is great - that's vegetables and sea food dipped in a light batter and deep fried."

Lyrr cleared her throat and finally closed her menu, finding it all too confusing for her. She then set it aside. "How about you pick for me? Though something spicy. There is spicy Japanese food isn't there?"

Benedict nodded. "Sure...." It took a few minutes to replicate the several dishes, but he came back to the table laden with a tray full of steaming dishes. He laid them out, complete with dipping sauces, horse-radish paste, hot sake and two varieties of rice, noodles and spiced vegetables.

He took a moment to explain the name and ingredients of each dish and then took up the chop sticks. They were Japanese in style, and he showed her how to hold them, demonstrating by scooping portions into bowls. Finally he said, "If you'd feel more comfortable with a fork...." He held one up with a grin, and in return, Lyrr scowled playfully at him as she snatched up a pair of chopsticks.

As they started to eat Benedict settled down cross-legged and served her sake. "There's a Japanese custom, that a guest's sake cup should never be empty - and is always poured by the host. Likewise the guest serves the host in the same way." He filled her cup and allowed her to serve him also.

"To good health" --he raised his cup and smiled-- "and to good friendships." He held her eyes as they drank.

Lyrr kept her lips to the brim of the cup while she let the warm liquid slide down her throat. She smiled to herself, then set the cup down and traded it for the two chopsticks sitting beside her plate. Handling them as T'Kal had shown her, but with very little skill, she reached out to trap a sushi roll between them.

"Speaking of friendships--" She chuckled as the roll escaped her chopsticks and bounced onto her plate before stopping at the edge. Lyrr glanced up at T'Kal guiltily as she opted for picking it up with her fingers instead. "I was going to say," she continued, "that friendships normally begin with two individuals sharing something about themselves...." She nibbled at the rice surrounding the morsel of raw fish, then regarded T'Kal pointedly. "That tattoo covering your back. What is it for?"

His face almost froze. He took a long gulp of the sake and regarded her with a careful stare. He didn't avoid her eyes, but his smile faded. He'd seen her naked - and she'd obviously seen him while he was being taken care of by the medics. He'd been careful about showing anyone the tattoo. It didn't mean a great deal to most - but to a Bajoran with Lyrr's background it might have significance. Did she already know what it meant and was probing for confirmation or was she ignorant of it's true meaning? He took a deep breath and placed his empty cup on the table.

"The Golden Tiger," he said looking her directly in the eyes, "I had it done as a sign of respect for my father...a long time ago. My parents were killed during the Occupation. My father was Japanese - my mother Bajoran. I was a member of the Resistance in the Pha'lok Province. I grew up fighting Cardassians...." His words were softly spoken, but she could tell that it cost him something to speak them. He owed her the complete truth, and he knew that she wouldn't betray a confidence. He already knew something of her past in the scars she carried. "I was called Tikaru."

Lyrr's eyes displayed recognition, but her face remained neutral. She knew the name well. Many thought him a hero, others a myth. Lyrr herself thought nothing much of him; he was simply a Bajoran, fighting as all Bajorans had in those days, even if he had been more successful than most. Nodding slowly, she popped the sushi roll into her mouth and chewed. Her eyes never left T'Kal's. "So," she said once her mouth was emptied, "am I to call you T'Kal or Tikaru? And what is proper procedure when greeting you? Do I bow?"

He laughed. It wasn't the reaction she was expecting. He slapped his thigh with mirth and winced as he hit the knife wound - which made him laugh even more. He sat back and leaned on his hands and regarded her across the table, still chuckling. "Ben... You call me Ben! Tikaru is a past life - I left him behind on Bajor...and I love your sense of humour." He grinned and refilled both cups - forgetting custom for the moment. "The tattoo is a scar left over from a previous life - something that's always there to remind you of where you came from... We all have our scars, Tayla. We just have to look past them...." He held her eyes again and drank. The hot liquid seemed to fill his belly with a smooth fire.

There was no urge to correct him on the use of her name, there was only curiosity. His reaction certainly had been unexpected. All she had seen of him thus far was a dark intensity that was almost disturbing. Now, he was laughing. She wondered how he had managed to retain that ability, especially after all they'd seen in the war, for she certainly had not. "So...you're no longer Tikaru, then," she said. "Is that why you just disappeared after the Occupation? You no longer wished to exist?"

"Partly." He shook his head. "Okay - I'll tell you something about myself that not a lot of people know... I ran away." He grinned. "I married a half-Klingon woman named Alayessa T'Kal and took her name and we didn't want to stop fighting when the Occupation finally ended. So we joined up with another Resistance...the Maquis." He toasted her with his sake. "She died. I gave up fighting for lost causes. The Bajoran government helped me become a Starfleet Officer - and at the same time they got rid of a potential embarrassment. Me." He regarded her with a smile. "I joined Starfleet because I wanted to end the destructive path my life had taken and to be part of something I could be proud of. I love Starfleet." He gazed into her eyes and sat forward. "My father always taught me that a true warrior practised the arts of peace as well as the arts of war - for there is a time for each. He was a very wise man. I loved him very much. I think he would be proud of what I'm doing now...."

Lyrr's eyes remained as wide as they had become upon hearing T'Kal's admission. The Maquis? She certainly hadn't read that in his record. She would have to definitely raise the subject to Matt when he returned to duty. "So, you have no family then?" Lyrr asked instead. "You have no one now?"

Benedict looked at her over the low table. "My father killed himself rather than watch a group of Cardassian officers rape and torture my mother in front of him."

Lyrr's jaw clenched at the remembered torment and suffering she'd received at Cardassian hands. She imbibed a large gulp of her sake to remove the bitter taste the memories left in her mouth. Assured that her trembling voice wouldn't betray her, Lyrr said quietly, "They should've all been killed. Is that why you became Tikaru? To punish the Cardassians for what they did?"

"Yes." Benedict's eyes were a dark violet. He could see her own memories were brought to the surface as she drank. "I killed...and I killed. It didn't make things better. I was just good at it that's all. They all deserved death - all those who tortured and killed our people. But at sometime you have to be able to let it go - before it eats you alive and leaves nothing behind but ashes." He held her eyes. "You have to say 'I'm alive' and you have to live your life. Vengeance is just another slow way to kill yourself."

Lyrr looked down into the clear liquid floating in her cup, away from those eyes that probed her, that conveyed knowledge of things she would rather T'Kal not know. "I don't seek vengeance," she told him. "I'm past that. I did what I had to do during the Occupation, and that's now over. I have moved on, and I'm living. It's the memories that are hard to leave behind."

"I see it in your eyes, Lyrr Tayla. You spend too much time looking back and you're missing the future." He smiled, his eyes gentler now. He saw a woman in pain and too wrapped up in a past that he'd left behind. "You have to fill your mind with all the good things that are here - now. Good food, good friends, good experiences. This is real - what you see when you look at your scars is no longer real. You haven't moved on until you no longer feel the pain when you look at yourself in a mirror. You are a beautiful woman, Tayla - and that's all you should see when you look at yourself."

"And you focus far too much on the physical, tangible world," she replied. "The scars are a reminder, one that I can't ignore. They don't allow me to forget that I suffered, and remind me of how strong I was to survive it. If I had ignored those scars, those memories, I would not be where I am today." Tayla raised an accusatory eyebrow at T'Kal as she said, "You don't give the past enough credit."

"No - I don't give it a chance to overwhelm my future..." He poured her another sake. "This physical, tangible world is all we've really got to focus on. Why remember the suffering instead of your strength? Why see the scars instead of your beauty? I'm not saying you should ignore your past - I'm saying that you should not rely on it to get you through the day." He drank his own sake and smiled at her. "I think if I dwelled upon my own past, all I would see is the blood on my hands." His voice grew softer, almost a whisper. "Death upon death - my parents, my wife...my fiancée...everyone I've ever been close to...." The pain in his eyes was bright. "I can't focus on the past...it would kill me."

Lyrr remained silent, sipping at her sake in contemplation, and to give T'Kal a moment to collect himself. With a sigh, she set her cup down again. "You and I are very different," she told him. "I focus on the past because it's what keeps me going. No matter how painful it is, I can't just lock it away. But I respect that you choose not to dwell on it. Perhaps you're stronger than I am in that way. While I find my motivation in the memories of my past, you've found yours elsewhere. I envy you."

He looked up into her eyes - they shared so much. He held her eyes for a long moment - and the silence wasn't at all uncomfortable. There seemed to be an inner recognition that they had both been burned and had survived - each in a different way, but so much the same. "I haven't talked this openly with anyone for a very long time...." His violet eyes regarded her, his tension seeming to evaporate with the warmth of the sake.

Lyrr sighed heavily, then smiled. "Neither have I," she admitted. "I've never been good at this sort of thing." She chuckled. "I'm still not. But...thank you for trusting me enough to tell me such confidential things, Lieutenant. It really has cleared up a lot."

There it was again. The barrier that came up reflexively. He nodded, a little saddened by it. "Sure, Commander...." He drank the last of the sake. "I expect that you'll keep what I told you to yourself. Trust is something we all have to earn." He looked at her again - his eyes searching hers. "Especially between friends.."

Lyrr's gaze faltered under T'Kal's scrutiny; it was quite the achievement considering she was rarely intimidated. "I won't say a word," she replied quietly, studying her empty plate. Smiling tightly, she slid her legs out from beneath the table and rose. "Thank you for dinner." She gestured to the banquet of food, hardly touched. "I'm afraid I wasn't very hungry tonight," she told him, then leaned forward to collect her plate. "At least let me help you clean up, though."

He leaned forward and touched her hand as she reached for the plate. It was only a gentle touch - he didn't attempt to hold her, just a slight contact. "No...." he said quietly. "It's fine." He felt the warmth of her skin as he looked up into her eyes. "I'll take care of it."

Lyrr went still, and watched T'Kal warily and with a hint of discomfiture. She nodded mutely and unsteadily as she slowly pulled her hand away. Cradling it against her chest as if she'd been burned by T'Kal's touch, Lyrr straightened up fully. "If you require anything...." Her voice stuck in her parched throat, but she managed a whisper for him. After clearing it, she smiled awkwardly. "Goodnight, Lieutenant."

He gave her a smile as he stood gracefully. He didn't want her to leave, but understood that she had to. "Goodnight, Commander." He let her go, content that they understood each other. As she left his quarters he sighed and looked up at the stare of the painting on his wall. He felt saddened - the past held so much grief. He'd told Lyrr that vengeance was just another slow way to kill yourself - and he was here on the Sulu because he was driven to find Tebrianne's killer. 'Look to the future,' he'd said. Empty words. How could he convince a woman like Lyrr Tayla to look to a new life if he still could not?

He picked up his guitar and sat on his sofa, looking up into Tebrianne's chocolate coloured eyes. His fingers began to play one of her favorite songs - the complexity of the melody interwoven with a sadness that came from his heart as he sang the words once again.

---

"The Main Man"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12 2153hrs

***

Natalia placed the small black case next to her desk terminal in her quarters. She sat in the semi-darkness of her living room. It was almost twenty-two hundred hours. Domenic was asleep. She sipped on a glass of vodka, the ice chinking softly as she swilled the clear liquid. The bottle was a third empty, the Stolichnaya name etched in the glass. It was a litre bottle imported from Earth and saved for a rainy day. She idly looked out the view port at the stars. Well she was sure that somewhere it was raining.

She'd felt out-of-sorts all day. Now she was on the way to getting drunk. She rubbed her temples and sat back with her eyes closed. The alcohol was beginning to affect her, but not in a good way. She looked at the black case again and slid a finger along the dark surface, until it rested upon the smooth plate of the lock. It beeped once as it recognised her DNA sequence. The case latches opened with a click.

She opened it. The padding held a glowing cube in the center. The holographic matrix was self-powered, allowing the hologram to run continuously within its own world. The cube was able to hold the matrix outside of a mainframe system, but link easily to Federation systems. She tapped the tiny controls and the system linked with the desk terminal.

The terminal gave her access to the main computer of the Sulu and she downloaded the matrix into her available storage space. The screen told her that the download had been successful. She accessed the holodeck systems and put her privacy access codes on Martel's program. Now she could access the matrix program from any of the Sulu's holodecks. It had been almost a month since she had visited the matrix. Almost a month since she had seen Martel. She smiled, thinking about him.

Natalia's chat with the counselor had helped to make up her mind about Farrell. He wasn't the guy she thought he was. She'd compared him to Martel when they had first met - and she had been drawn to him because of that. They had a few similarities, but Mason wasn't Martel.

She finished the vodka. It was quiet. She was restless. "Computer, is there a holodeck available at the moment?"

"Affirmative. Holodeck One is available," the computer voice answered.

"Reserve it for me for the next four hours," Natalia said as she went over to her replicator.

Ten minutes later she left her quarters dressed for the holodeck.

As the doors closed and locked, Natalia walked across the marble floor of the penthouse apartment. The floor to ceiling windows showed a view of the city - it was night and the city was ablaze in lights and down below the red and white flowing lanes of traffic moved silently. Air traffic moved amongst the tall skyscrapers. Spires of metal and glass reaching for the clouds extended into the distance. The Metropolis covered an arc of several miles along the coast.

The lights were low in the suite of rooms that Natalia used as her entry into the holodeck simulation. The décor was modern 2200 and showed the occupant as wealthy - the part Natalia played.

She drifted into the lounge area and already the fire was well lit, and casting dim orange light across the low furnishings. She stopped on the threshold, one hand holding the wall as she looked down into the split-level area.

He was sitting in the chair, one hand holding a glass of brandy in a snifter as he idly swirled the amber liquid. Their eyes met across the room and he smiled. There was a silent moment between them, as he looked her up and down. She was wearing a black sheath of material that ended just above her knees and molded to her figure. It was sleeveless and backless and unadorned. Her hair was loose and its glossy curls hung across her shoulders, red highlights glowing in the firelight. She stepped down onto the thick rug, her black stiletto heels clicking on the steps.

"I've missed you," he said gently, but did not rise. His dark handsome face was shadowed, but his eyes glinted with intelligence. He wore a black polo necked sweater and slacks, his smile was slightly lopsided and sardonic. "It's been a while...." He took a sip of his drink.

Natalia smiled. She walked over to him and took the drink out of his hand. Taking a sip she sighed, knowing that it wasn't real. "Been away on assignment," she said in Russian.

He seemed to accept it. It was a fact of their lives, being sent around the world when crises happened. He worked for the Northern Alliance and she worked for the Eastern Bloc - and between them they had performed many missions to save their countries' interests and on occasion they had saved the world.

"Your return is good timing then," he smiled. His accent was a rich baritone English, but he understood her Russian perfectly. He could speak it like a native himself, but he preferred his mother tongue as she preferred hers.

She nodded. Her entry into his world was always good timing. It was a part of the program. It meant a new mission.

He reached for her hand. His skin was soft and warm and his long fingers held strength. She knew that he wasn't real, but she put that aside as she slid onto his lap. The fire was warm, and she kicked off her shoes as she leaned into him. She put the Brandy snifter on the side table and his arms snaked around her waist. She brought her face to his and kissed him. His scent and soft lips drove everything out of her mind. If the best men in her life were going to be fantasy - she decided to settle on the only one that would always be there for her when she wanted him.

Martel slid her to the rug before the fire, and gazed into her ice blue eyes. "I've missed you," he whispered as he kissed her neck.

---

"Hat in Hand"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Bridge and Ready Room
Stardate: 57907.12 22h55

***

Farrell walked quietly onto the bridge with the shift reports. Ordinarily, he would have simply uploaded them to the bridge archive via the main computer, and a yeoman would have collected them in the morning for command review. But he needed an excuse to get onto the bridge, so he carried the padd containing the relevant data with him for manual transfer.

For a bridge that had seen combat recently, things were quiet. Hamilton stood post at Ops, though there wasn't much for her to do at this moment. He felt vaguely guilty about stuffing Hamilton with this duty all the time. He ought to take a turn soon. Saavar was intent at his science station, doubtless scanning for more secret carrier waves. Hex from Security stood alert at Tactical; he would probably be pulling doubles until T'Kal was signed off on by the doctors. Farrell wondered offhandedly what was going to happen to Storm, then put the thought aside. He had things to do.

"Commander?" he asked quietly as he approached the Captain's chair, which she was currently occupying. He kept his voice studiously neutral.

Lyrr's gaze remained fixed to the control panel at her left, knowing if she spared even a glance for him, her anger would be provoked. "Ensign," she said tightly. "What is it?"

"I've hit a couple of logistic snags, and I thought I'd run my solutions by you before I go ahead," said Farrell, handing her the padd.

Lyrr cleared her throat and accepted the device, her expression remaining hard. Expecting a detailed overview of the ensign's problem, Lyrr received only a brief sentence reading: May I have a private word with you, sir? Lyrr sighed wearily and, without pause or a glance at Farrell, she returned the padd to him. "Lt. Sam is your department head," she said curtly. "If you have a problem, please take it up with him. I'm quite busy at the moment."

Farrell took the padd back, and keyed another command in while he spoke. "Under most circumstances, I would, but he'd just bring this to you. I figured I'd cut out the middleman. Sure you won't take a look, sir?" He held out the padd again.

Lyrr sighed sharply this time and sat back in her chair to gaze up at Farrell with displeasure. Relenting, she glanced at the padd and snatched it from his hold. Her eyes glossed over: I'd like to apologize to you, sir, and focused on him again. The padd was thrust back towards him. "I'm afraid not, Ensign," was all she said.

Farrell nodded, apparently expecting this response. "Fair enough, sir. I'll head back to the Ops office and go over this one more time, and contact Lieutenant Sam in a half-hour or so. Thank you, sir." He turned and left the bridge.

Lyrr waited for the turbolift doors to close, and with almost a mischievous smirk, she pushed out of her chair and marched across the bridge. She tapped her commbadge as she went, and snapped, "Ensign Farrell, Captain's Ready Room," then marched through the doors.

Farrell halted his slow count in the liftcar, and was back on the bridge in seconds, the lift doors opening even as the ready room doors were closing. Crewman Hamilton looked at him with a worried eyebrow lift. He made a small gesture, waving her attention back to her console, and walked past her to press the chime outside the ready room.

The call to enter came, and when Farrell passed through the doors, Lyrr was in front of the captain's desk with arms folded tightly across her chest. She quickly unwound one arm and raised a hand to forestall anything Farrell might wish to say. This time, he was the one through speaking. "While on duty, you will not pass messages unrelated to any task assigned you via datapad. This is not a child's schoolroom, Ensign; this is a Starfleet vessel and an officer of the 'fleet is expected to exercise a certain level of maturity even if they themselves have yet to achieve said level otherwise. Is that clear?"

He nodded with understanding. "Yes, sir," he said, and meant it. It was a little silly, but it had been the fastest way to get her attention.

"And as an addendum," she continued, "you will not approach me while on shift to discuss anything non-duty related." Lyrr paused, then added, "In fact, Ensign, I would prefer it if you never approached me, whether it's in the lounge, the mess, whether I'm off-duty and we simply pass one another in the corridors. I don't want you making impromptu visits to my quarters to offer gifts, or for any other reason. You will speak to me only if it involves this ship and your duty to it. We are through, Ensign, and any notions of you and I ever becoming anything akin to friends is over. Is that agreed?"

"I cannot adequately answer that question at this time, sir," Farrell replied calmly. "Permission to speak freely?"

Lyrr sighed and looked away briefly. A wry chuckle ensued as her eyes met his again. "If 'speaking freely' is that scene you made on Risa the other day, I'd rather you didn't, Ensign."

Farrell winced. "Actually, sir, that's what I'm here to talk about." He decided to just push on and get it out there. "Sir, I'm sorry about the things I said to you in the hospital. I've been thinking about what you said, and I realize I misinterpreted your intent. I apologize. And I said some things that were more hurtful than I intended them to be. I was completely out of line. And for that, I apologize. As Ensign Farrell, I apologize to you, Commander Lyrr, for being disrespectful of your rank and status. As Mason Farrell, I apologize to you, Lyrr Tayla, for insulting your heritage and your background. I'm sorry."

And then he held his breath.

Neither spoke as Lyrr stared silently at Farrell's booted feet, and he waiting for a reply, whatever it might be. He was manipulative and disrespectful, and definitely brash. She'd allowed him to fool her one time too many; she would not be made a mockery of again. "I accept that you're apologizing, Ensign," she said quietly. She shifted her gaze upwards to meet his, before adding, "But I refuse to accept your apology. You said what you said to deliberately insult me, to demean me as you seem to believe I take every opportunity to do to you. You sought to hurt me any way you could...." Lyrr paused, gathering her resolve in a refusal to display the pain he truly had caused her. She cleared her throat and again lowered her eyes. "I will not give you the satisfaction of knowing whether or not you succeeded. You care for nothing but yourself, Ensign, and I accept that." Her eyes held his again, and displayed only impassivity. "The next time you wonder why you're alone, look upon that incident, upon every single conversation we've had that ended badly, and you'll know why. Solitude is not something that's forced upon you, Ensign; it's a choice, and from what I've seen of you, you prefer a life without companionship. And I don't know why. But the next time someone offers it, try not to slap their hand away, as you did with me."

Farrell looked down. He had figured she wouldn't accept his apology, but he could have done without the silly moralizing. It rankled him deeply to be spoken to like a wayward teenager, but he wasn't here to fight. Saying anything significant would only drive Lyrr higher onto her hobbyhorse, so he forced it all down. All the retorts, all the flippant comments, all the smart comebacks, he swallowed them all, and just said, "Yes, sir."

Lyrr nodded slowly, satisfied with the tenuous understanding they'd achieved. It was going to be a long tour of duty with Ensign Farrell serving aboard. "Good," she said stiffly. "Now, as Lyrr Tayla, I'm asking you to leave." Farrell turned without a word. Quickly, as an afterthought, Lyrr added, "And as Commander Lyrr, I'm asking you to refrain from engaging in lewd activities aboard the ship's turbolift, or anywhere else that is not your quarters, from now on." Lyrr smirked at him. "I was in sickbay today and heard all about it. Next time, I won't refrain from handing out reprimands."

Farrell stopped with his back to Lyrr, just outside the door's sensor range. Lyrr knew. And Lyrr was always last to know. That meant everyone knew. And that meant Ainsley knew. Damn. He should have anticipated a faster rumor spread on a smaller ship. But there was nothing he could do about it until he got clear of this immediate mess.

"Yes, sir," he said flatly, for there was nothing else to say, and then continued his motion, through the doors and out.

---

"Dreamscape"
By: Lt. Benedict T'Kal

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.12 23h30

***

The moon was large and yellow. Casting a pale silvered glow across the forest, it seemed like the darkness was frosted with a layer of mist. The curls of water vapour swirled slowly between the pines, creeping along the matted floor and hiding the ferns and rocks that bordered the mountain stream that meandered down the valley. Benedict could hear the water - dulled by the mist somewhere to his left. He stood in a glade. Trees covered the undulating landscape and fell from his height to a valley floor in the darkness. The lake in the centre of the valley floor was a silver pool of moonlight between the trees.

It was cold, though he was dressed only in a pair of leather trousers and boots. His hair was unbound and blew wild in the breeze, a dark raven's cloak shot with a streak of silver. His hand held the hilt of his sheathed katana, loose and ready to draw.

He knew without knowing how that he was dreaming again. The crystal clarity of the imagery meant that it was another vision. His face was blackened by the complex paint mask he wore, making him feral and wild in appearance. His violet eyes shone, luminescent in the moonlight.

Benedict set off, knowing which direction he had to run, and once again the forest passed him by as he trotted and jumped and stooped to avoid obstacles as they materialised out of the white mist. He ran on, never tiring, as dreams often were wont to allow.

The stench of decaying bodies came again. This time he knew what to expect as he entered the large open space of the glade. The detritus was littered across the whole glade. Like the aftermath of a pitched battle, the bodies piled in rifts as if they had been cast down in windrows. Black birds hopped and cawed and pecked at the exposed morsels of bloated flesh.

He came to a halt and stared out across the bizarre landscape of death. The last time he was here he had thought afterward that it had something to do with the Farehn'ti assassin. Clearly it did not. He was back again. More bodies this time. More death.

A part of his consciousness asked why? He was on the Sulu. They were going to Bajoran space, and Deep Space Nine. Then through the wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant.

The wormhole. He wanted to experience that. The home and domain of the Prophets of Bajor. He'd been visited before by the Prophets. Always it had brought him to a crossroads or an important decision. He felt this time it was the same. An important decision had to be made. Was he seeing a consequence of a bad choice? He surveyed the grisly scene.

The wind shifted and he smelled a rich stench renewed. Tattered Starfleet uniforms lay amongst the dead. The sound of dulled footfalls made him turn his head. The darkness and the moonlight made a black silhouette of a female. As she stepped forward he noticed the lithe grace of her walk, the sway of her hips and the sudden brightness of her pale flesh. She was naked, beautiful, but marred with black hollow eyes and scars that cris-crossed her body all over. The scars shone white against pale skin. Her lips twitched in a half smile that he recognised. Lyrr Tayla walked up to him and looked out at the dead. She had no eyes, just black sockets.

"Why are you here?" he asked. His voice was a whisper and she turned her sockets upon him to stare sightlessly through him. She did not answer, but instead smiled eerily.

He turned fully toward her, and she stepped closer, one hand rising to his chest. As her fingers touched his bare skin he felt the utter cold of her. It was a bone cold that chilled him deeply and sapped his warmth. She drew closer and her chest brushed his, nipples like ice that pressed into him. Her mouth reached for his and he was powerless to prevent the kiss. Her breath exhaled in his mouth as their lips met and he felt his throat freeze and lips suddenly numbed.

Her arms circled him and she pressed close, sapping the very strength from him and drawing the life out through his mouth like a vampiric succubus. His sword dropped from suddenly lifeless fingers. He was going numb with pain and cold but could not break the kiss. He couldn't struggle, couldn't break free, and he knew that death had him...finally.

The realization struck and he found that he welcomed her. He drew his own arms about the death goddess, surrendering his warmth and his life. He gave it up willingly and freely and accepted his fate.

---