"A Meeting of the Minds Over Matters"
By: Lieutenant Brennyn Scott - Chief Counselor
Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor
Ensign Ainsley Chambers - Counselor
Ensign V'ral - Counselor [NPC]
Lieutenant (jg) Devanoni Krall - Counselor [NPC]
Ensign Galil F'Zal - Counselor [NPC]
Lieutenant (jg) Corryn McCormick - Counselor [NPC]
Lieutenant (jg) Salem Watts - Counselor [NPC]
and Crewman Emma Summers - Medical Technician/On Call Counselor

Location: USS Sulu, Counseling Conference Room
Stardate: 57908.07, 07h51

***

The Counseling conference room was empty, save for early arrivals Ensign Galil F'Zal and Doctor Ilan Potts. F'Zal was young, tall, and handsome with dark brown hair and eyes like chipped onyx while Potts was something else entirely. In the scant few moments before the departmental meeting, Potts had his nose in a PADD, his lips moving slightly while he read the contents. F'Zal had a PADD of his own but it was Potts that drew his attention.

"If you don't tell them I will," F'Zal said finally.

Potts finished reading a line before he looked up. "What's this now?" he asked, perplexed.

"Amy Reese kissed you," the Betazoid accused. "And if you don't tell Lieutenant Scott, I will."

Potts sat down his PADD and tried to look grave but a slight smile touched his thin lips. "Did you hear that through the grapevine or are you...?" Potts asked his question by making a bizarre hand motion at the side of his head, indicating arcane telepathic powers.

"The latter," F'Zal indicated coolly. "And you're doing it...your mind is practically singing."

"What are you accusing me of, good sir?" Ilan asked, leaning a little closer.

"Of kissing Ensign Reese," F'Zal copied the move.

"You just said she kissed me."

"But you kissed her back."

Potts scoffed. "I am half-Deltan...my libido simply got the better of me."

"You're attracted to her," F'Zal pointed out.

"So are you," Potts sneered. He looked at Galil closely. "You know everything that's in my head?"

"Unfortunately."

"Even stuff I can't remember?" Potts asked. "I lost a pair of socks with monkeys on them."

"One is stuffed half under your mattress," F'Zal said with authority. "You stuffed the other with latinum bits for that makeshift blackjack in your office in case a patient 'goes screwy'."

"This is truly disturbing," Potts observed, his smile fading. "You're the first telepath I've ever considered banning from my brain."

"You'd be doing me a favor," F'Zal said, smiling. "What's 'Ode to Cheese'?"

Potts ignored the question. "If you're in my head, you know my intentions and therefore you know I have every intention of telling Lieutenant Scott."

"And I also know you're apprehensive about it," F'Zal stated definitively. "Which does not discount a last minute decision to keep the information to yourself."

"In which case..." Potts trailed off, sensing victory.

"I'll tell Lieutenant Scott that Ensign Reese kissed you."

"Hello gentlemen." Emma graced them both with a smile as she walked from behind them and took a seat one space away from Potts and across the table from the Betazoid. As she sat she turned to Potts and asked, "Why would Ensign Reese be kissing her counsellor?" Her voice was silky, upbeat and the question was casual, but it was a serious question. She barely gave the Betazoid a glance, as she leaned back in her chair and lazily spun a padd with her index finger on the table-top. "Sir," she added as a polite after-thought.

Potts looked down at the table and considered how to best answer. F'Zal narrowed his eyes at the half-Deltan and decided to spare him the machinations. "Gratitude, Crewman Summers," the Betazoid offered her. "Dr. Potts did a small something for Ensign Reese and she was grateful."

"That's Amy," she replied with a smile. "She's like that...so what's the problem?" She looked at the Betazoid.

"I kissed her back," Potts made the weighty admission. He looked quite sad. "Only for a moment but under the circumstances, it might be best if I don't continue as her counselor."

"You kissed her back?" Emma was quite shocked. The look on the Deltan's face said a lot about the nature of the kiss. "Why did you do that? You know her issues..." Emma's voice was questioning, and she tried hard to clamp down on the impulse to raise her voice. Potts looked contrite and his declaration to not continue as Amy's counselor counted for a lot in assuaging Emma's reaction.

"I was taken by surprise," Potts said, lowering his chin to his folded hands atop the table. "It was only for a moment." Potts looked at F'Zal as if defying him to say different. He didn't.

Emma sat back, at least a little mollified. "Probably no harm done...sir." She looked at the Betazoid and back at Potts. "Amy's a big girl, she probably didn't think too much about it if it was a momentary thing..." Her face split into a sly grin. "Maybe it might put her off kissing guys forever..." It would me, she thought looking at the weasel-faced little runt.

Potts was too beside himself to notice the dig but F'Zal didn't. "How so, Crewman?" the Betazoid asked, looking at Emma with cool black irises. In spite of the hard time Galil had been giving Potts, he liked the Assistant Chief Counselor and suddenly felt protective of him in the way that a bully might defend one of his victims against a smaller, new bully.

Emma smiled at the Betazoid. "I was trying to lighten the doctor's mood, sir...a little joke. He seems to like jokes...I didn't mean any offence," she smiled sweetly. Her eyes were devoid of expression as the Betazoid undoubtedly tried to scan her and she knew that he would encounter a black void.

While Emma and F'Zal reached their mental impasse, Doctor Potts let his forehead lower to the tabletop. All of the sudden, he felt positively morose.

***

Brennyn Scott regarded the counselors around her with a polite smile. Her face betrayed none of the mixed emotions she felt, but she was not one to deny them, even if it was just to herself. Now that they were in the Gamma Quadrant for the next six months, it would be up to the counseling personnel to ensure the crew stayed focused and in good spirits. Daunting under the best of circumstances, these tasks would become even more critical now that they weren't in a position to drop people off at a starbase or advanced care facility.

The challenge energized her and scared her all at the same time. Bree was a polished enough diplomat not to let it show of course, but since their passage through the wormhole, she'd become acutely aware of just how much she had resting on her relatively inexperienced Starfleet shoulders. Flashes of all the fiascos that occurred thus far came unbidden to her mind. Would she be able to actually do some good here, or would she end up a mere referee in the chaos? She couldn't worry about that now. All she could do was trust the men and women before her, and trust herself to do what she felt was right. To her chagrin, she noted the former was more than slightly easier to do than the latter.

She cleared her throat to indicate she was ready to get the show on the road. "I'd like to start by officially welcoming Dr. Ilan Potts into the fold. He has proven himself to be an invaluable asset to the department and a breath of fresh air to the Sulu. Thank you, Doctor, for your continued hard work."

After nodding to her Assistant Chief, she turned her attention to the heart of matters. "Before we turn to new business, I'd like to take the moment to acknowledge the efforts made by Counselor McCormick and Grixble Flummux. I've read the reports and spoken to Flummux, and it seems as if they're making steady progress toward enabling him to cope with his concerns."

The blonde English woman seemed to dismiss the compliment. "He just needs a listener more than anything right now. After that, I think he'll be more willing to work at it. At least, I hope," she admitted with a nervous chuckle.

Scott smiled. "Keep at it, and remember to let him do the work. I'm pleased to see that he's benefitting from seeing one person consistently."

Corryn returned the smile, and Scott returned her attention to her agenda. "And now to the client discussions."

Bree looked to Potts, who was sitting to her right. "Care to update us on your cases, Doctor?" Anticipating a lengthy discourse on ferns and the stars with a few client observations mixed in, Scott chose that moment to take a sip of her steaming raktajino. It was a move she would come to regret almost immediately.

"Amy Reese kissed me the night of the skirt party," Potts said, rather bluntly.

Scott would later decide it would have been more merciful if the super caffeinated Klingon beverage would have come out her nose, but as it was, the liquid merely burned her tongue and decided to come screaming down her trachea. Unfortunately, her coughing and sputtering were about to be drowned out as everyone started talking at once:

"I knew it would happen," Watts chuckled. "I just knew it."

"You knew it?" Corryn said to Watts. "If you knew it then why do you owe me a week's worth of replicator rations?"

"Wife number eight," someone said with flat sarcasm. It may have been V'ral.

Ainsley sat calmly in her seat, looking at the others around the table. It simply amazed her that grown adults could act this way in a staff meeting, and counselors no less. It wasn't a secret that Amy Reese had a certain problem, so why everyone would be so surprised and possibly even outraged, was beyond her.

Bree managed to conquer the annoying tickle in her throat that had kept her sputtering like a warpcore breach for the duration of everyone else's outrage. Her annoyance quickly silenced any further banter. Scott held up a hand and replied sarcastically, "Thanks for your concern everyone, I'm fine." Eyes quickly found other places to rest, except for Potts', who seemed to know what was coming. "What happened?"

Ilan rose with rolled shoulders. If his uniform had pockets, he would have put his hands in them. "I had replicated a trinket for Ensign Reese," he said sheepishly. "A bracelet with a locket charm. It had images of Ensign Markham and her inside."

"Why are you giving patients gifts?" Krall asked, genuinely curious. More so than some of the others, Krall respected Potts and wanted his full side before any judgments were to be made.

A fair question, Bree thought. Something she definitely wanted to know herself.

"The intention of the bracelet was to give Ensign Reese a visual reminder of her commitment to Ensign Markham. Something she could use to reinforce her will when she found herself in a precarious situation." Potts looked down at the deck. "It obviously didn't work...and her gratitude caught me quite off guard."

There was a slight lull while Bree considered what had been said. F'Zal looked back and forth between Potts and Scott. "He kissed her back," he finally said helpfully just as Bree opened her mouth to speak.

Scott met F'Zal's gaze and made sure the veteran counselor knew how much she hated to be interrupted and how much she hated a tattle tale even more. F'Zal managed to look appropriately contrite.

"A result of being caught off guard," Potts said, with a dark look for F'Zal. "I certainly regret it."

And she could tell he did. But that still didn't help her decide what to do about it. It seemed there was only one logical course of action. "So what do you propose to do about it?"

"I would like to continue with Ensign Reese," Potts answered. "In spite of this setback, I feel that she has responded well to me..."

"Obviously," someone said. All eyes went to V'ral.

Bree made sure V'ral knew she wouldn't tolerate such retorts before adding, "Please continue, Doctor."

"Moreover," Potts continued, shooting a look at the possible wise-cracking Vulcan. "Ensign Reese trusts me. I think with the proper boundaries in place, I can still make progress with her."

Brennyn leaned back in her chair, taking a moment to think about the possible implications of this decision. "While every effort must be made to ensure that the boundaries between counselor and patient are maintained, I'm loath to remove a counselor from a case without attempting to establish the appropriate limits. I agree, Doctor, it could very well be that Amy uses intimate contact to push people away from her, in which case it would be counterproductive to remove you. I'd like you to keep seeing her, but I'd like regular updates to ensure you've set the proper limitations."

"Of course, Lieutenant," Potts said, inwardly pleased. He liked Ensign Reese and wanted to help her. Ever since the incident he had worried that he'd be prevented from doing just that. He sat back down happily.

Scott nodded and turned to Ainsley. "Now, Counselor Chambers, why don't you--"

Potts sheepishly raised his hand.

Inwardly, Brennyn cringed. "Someone else make a pass at you, Doctor?"

"There is also the matter of Ensign Farrell," Potts said, looking around the table before his eyes settled furtively on Ainsley. "I've met with him and with all due respect to the folks with the nifty red collars, I think anger management is a waste of time."

Scott crossed her arms and turned to F'Zal. "Galil?"

"I see him today," F'Zal said succinctly, already compiling Potts' mental impressions in his own mind. "I can't really make a determination until I actually talk to him."

Ainsley breathed deeply through her nose, attempting to think of this discussion as if it was anyone else that they were talking about. Everyone at the table seemed to glance her way and she was determined not to show any reaction. She was sure that Mason would make it through his counselling sessions fine, and was certain that he would benefit from them greatly. She was also confident that Potts may have hit the nail on the head with his diagnosis.

Scott looked to F'Zal and Potts and nodded. "Then we'll revisit the matter then." She turned to Ainsley, who, if she wasn't mistaken, looked a little uncomfortable. "Any client concerns you'd like to discuss, Ainsley?" She knew Chambers had counseled Reese on occasion and thought perhaps something related to Amy was bothering her.

She shook her head. "Not at this time." She would not say anything about Mason in this forum, she wasn't his counselor and never would be. As for Amy, she had nothing to add to that discussion that hadn't already been voiced. It troubled her that the poor girl was still having problems but she was sure if anyone could help her with that it would be Potts.

"If there's nothing else client related to discuss, at this time I'd like to make a couple of parting comments. First, it goes without saying now that we're in the Gamma Quadrant and we'll have to pay even closer attention to morale and personnel issues. Please continue to keep your eyes and ears open for potential problems and to do what you can to stay proactive. Use the rumor mill if need be. We all know how inaccurate things can turn out to be, but there's usually a kernel of truth in there somewhere which just might alert you to an issue you wouldn't be privy to."

Bree took a sip of her raktajino, and then briefly caught Emma's eye. "And finally, as most, if not all of you know, Crewman Summers has expressed a desire to work full-time with us. Her transfer request is being reviewed, but at this moment I'd like to thank Emma for her assistance. I know it hasn't been easy splitting time between here and sickbay and I appreciate your dedication."

Emma grinned. "Thank you, sir," she said with a nod. She looked around the table at the smiles and noticed that neither F'Zal nor Potts seemed to be entirely happy.

Scott looked at those sitting around the table one last time. This was a good group of healers, and they would only become stronger as time went on. "Dismissed."

---

"Manning the Nightingale, Part 3"
by Lieutenant Command Jabari Zareb - Engineering Consultant
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
Lieutenant Mark Thaine - Chief Engineer
Ensign Jackson Thompson - Engineering Officer
and Petty Officer 2nd Class Hanako Ito Engineering Crewman [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Main Engineering
Stardate: 57908.07, 07h58

***

First coffee, then the warp core. Then maybe he could get rid of some paperwork (or at least re-arrange the PADDs so it looked like there were less of them).

At least, that was the plan. And things never went according to 'The Plan'.

Main Engineering had been full of surprises of late, and here was the latest - there were people in his office.

In his office.

He could see them through the transparent aluminum making up the upper part of the wall next to the door. Thompson, Ito and...Tagliesh? He frowned. About the only business that woman had in engineering was to complain, and that wasn't business enough for her to stay.

Giving a few passing nods to the calls of 'Morning, Chief!' from the other engineers filtering in, or the 'Laters!' from the last remaining crew from Gamma Shift, the Chief drew nearer the door. Ito had spotted him, and gave him a curt nod, with a faintly concerned look on her face. Mark wondered if that was to do with something the Chief Science officer was saying, or if she was just concerned as to his reaction to finding them all in his office.

Jabbing a finger onto the 'open' control on the door panel, Thaine stepped through into his office with an accusing glare. "Nice of you to let yourselves in," he commented dryly, and then looked surprised to find Zareb standing just inside the doorway, out of sight from anywhere outside his office.

Despite the surprise, the Chief Engineer, true to character, maintained his glare, and folded his arms as the door shut behind him with a hiss.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant," Lt. Tagliesh, of course, said with a hint of dissatisfaction from Thaine's chair, "but this is a private meeting."

Zareb managed to only barely show an amused smile at Xayella's posturing. "To which the Sulu's Chief Engineer is more than welcome to attend." Zareb looked down at the shorter officer. "Forgive the intrusion, Mister Thaine, but we wanted to get underway with our interviews for the runabout crew." He indicated Xayella with a wave of his hand. "As the Nightingale's First Officer, Lieutenant Tagliesh expressed particular interest in helping choose the Engineering staff."

"I bet she did," said Thaine, glancing toward her for a moment, before looking back to Zareb. "Good job I turned up before you stole all my best staff, huh?" The Chief strode over to his chair, where Tagliesh sat, and gave her a rather interesting mixture of a glare and a scowl. Xay noted the look, raised an eyebrow at him, and stubbornly vacated his seat. "You want to get on with it then?" he asked Zareb as he sat down.

"Are you suggesting that your recommendations were less than the best your department has to offer, Lieutenant?" Zareb asked, his mood darkening. He looked at the backs of Ito and Thompson's respective heads. "If that isn't the case, I think you may owe Petty Officer Ito and Mister Thompson an apology."

Thaine gave a tired sigh, obviously in no mood for verbal sparring. "I said all my best staff. Ito and Thompson are merely two of them." It was an easy get out, and quicker than explaining he had been joking. The last thing Thaine wanted was a discussion about his sense of humour with Zareb. "Now, with all due respect, sir, can we make a start? Or would you rather continue discussing staff reviews in front of those very staff? Besides, it's almost already after 0800, and I haven't even had a coffee."

Zareb looked at Thaine for a full three heartbeats before speaking. "Get your coffee, Mister Thaine. If it will spur you towards contributing something productive to this meeting, I'd even be willing to make it an order."

"I'll manage without it." He coughed, clearing his throat, and spread his hands, as if offering something of a truce to Zareb. "The Nightingale. Have you decided which engineers you want on board yet?"

"On board," Zareb began, placing a hand behind his back and starting a short pace. "Mister Thompson should make an excellent addition to the Nightingale crew...pending the outcome of a security upgrade investigation. Do you foresee any problems that you would like to warn me about, Mister Thompson?"

"Security concerns?" Jackson frowned, every transgression in his past suddenly running through his mind. Suddenly every time he and his friends had "harmless fun" in the academy and college started to seem like less than a good idea. Of course, that all had been harmless... "I don't believe, sir. I guess I've led a rather boring life." He paused for a moment. "And thank you, sir. I look forward to serving with you."

Zareb nodded. "And of course Petty Officer Ito's clearance is already in order. Her help in the coming weeks of preparation should be invaluable. Is a temporary alpha shift assignment to your liking, Petty Officer Ito?"

"If it's required of me, sir," the petite woman replied, gaze furtively shifting to Lieutenant Tagliesh at the thought of having to spend an indeterminate length of time in her presence.

Zareb turned back to Thaine. "But I'm afraid I'll still need a crewmember for prep work on beta shift. Recommendations, Mister Thaine?"

"Crewman Wil Pierce knows his way around small craft...as does Petty Officer Charles Fletcher. Fletcher is on Beta shift, so it'd be less of a change for him. Pierce might appreciate the change; he's probably due for one." Thaine shrugged. "You've got access to their personnel files?"

"I do," Zareb said, looking down at his PADD and presumably bringing up the relevant information. There was a slight pause while he silently perused it. "Petty Office Fletcher has the benefit of more experience but Crewman Pierce has nearly completed a degree in Warp Propulsion." He looked to Tagliesh. "Opinion, Lieutenant?"

She shrugged as she leaned her hip casually on the edge of Thaine's desk, making certain to block his view of Zareb. "Go for the least obnoxious one," she suggested. "We're going to be trapped on a shuttle for an a long stretch of time, and it won't matter one bit if he's the greatest engineer Starfleet has to offer if we end up transporting him into space." She smiled a wickedly sweet smile. "How's that for sound reasoning?"

Zareb smiled back but was shaking his head. "Now, now, Lieutenant. If we kick people off the ship for being annoying, the Nightingale would be without her Commanding Officer." Jabari looked around Tagliesh to the Chief Engineer. "Your opinion, Mister Thaine?"

Thaine sighed, and rubbed his chin. "Take Fletcher for this one. He's more likely to spot if any of those modifications you've made are gonna cause problems. Pierce may not have the experience to see that sort of thing yet, degree in Warp Propulsion or not."

Jabari nodded curtly. "Does Petty Officer Fletcher meet with your strict criteria, Lieutenant?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

Xayella shared a secret look with Zareb and grinned as she replied languidly, "Oh, definitely, Mr. Zareb."

Zareb returned the smile, this time in visual form, in spite of the impropriety of Lieutenant Tagliesh's use of 'Mister' when addressing a superior officer. Thaine picked up on it, his eyebrows rising slightly in both curiousity and surprise as Zareb looked to him.

"Pending positive results of Mister Thompson and Petty Officer Fletcher's security checks, I believe we have our Engineering Team assembled, Mister Thaine." He stepped over to the desk and offered his hand to the Chief of Engineering. "Thank you for your time and swift attention in this matter."

The Chief Engineer stared at the offered hand, and then shook it, his firm grip matched in strength by Zareb. "Just bring everyone back in one piece," he said. And then, "I'd hate to have to start re-staffing my department."

"No promises, Mister Thaine," Zareb said instantly though not without a degree of humor. He looked to Tagliesh. "Lieutenant?" he said, indicating the door before he passed through it.

She smiled attractively at Zareb, and offered a smirk to Thaine as she tossed her head back, spun on her heel, and departed with her usual air of haughtiness.

Thaine sighed as the door closed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a tired hand. What a way to start the morning. Looking up, he realised Thompson and Ito were still there. "You're dismissed," he told them, and looked back down to his PADD.

There were footsteps. He heard his office door open, and then shut. About a minute passed.

There was a soft cough.

When he looked back up again, only Jackson had gone. Ito still stood there, the young woman of oriental heritage giving him a faintly accusing look.

Thaine's features softened. "Sorry, Hanako," he said, at length. "But I want the best on that ship, as much as Zareb does. Difference is, I want them on that ship to make sure him and his test flight aren't a danger to everyone else. And you're one of the best. Academy trained or not."

The rare compliment from her Chief gave Hanako Ito cause to smile, her cheeks reddening slightly, and she finally dropped the accusing look with a sigh. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Hell yes."

"It's not Commander Zareb I'd be worried about. I'd say Lieutenant Tagliesh being on board was more of a danger."

Thaine nodded, slowly. He knew Ito's opinions on the Chief of Science matched his own. All his encounters with the woman had gone badly, for whatever reason. She seemed to have taken an instant dislike to him, which he had quickly found to be a mutual arrangement.

The engineer frowned, remembering the look that had passed between Zareb and Tagliesh, the improper, almost playful use of the word 'Mister.' What was going on between those two? Would it affect the test flight? Was it worth reporting to Lyrr? Was it--

"Chief?" Ito's voice broke into his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

"Yeah, you're right," said the Chief, picking up from where they had left off. "Now you know why I wanted you on board. Keep an eye on her for me. If she does even anything that looks risky, anything at all, voice your concerns to Zareb, and if he does nothing, let me know immediately."

Ito nodded, and left with a smile. At least she seemed a little reassured that he understood the problem of putting a wild card like Tagliesh onto a delicate test flight. He made a mental note to mention that concern to Lyrr.

Zareb would consider the flight of the Nightingale a success if all the fancy equipment he'd loaded her up with worked to their specifications. But as far as Thaine was concerned, it would be a success if everyone came back alive.

---

"Misgivings"
By: Lieutenant Brennyn Scott - Chief Counselor
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor

Location: USS Sulu, Counseling Conference Room
Stardate: 57908.07, 08h33

***

The Counseling Conference Room had emptied, save for Bree and Ilan. Doctor Potts stood near the single portal, watching the foreign stars of the Gamma Quadrant streak by as the ship made her way into inky unknown. Lieutenant Scott was still in her seat and the gulf between them may have been more than a matter of positioning.

"If there's something on your mind, Doctor, please feel free to address it." She stood from the table and walked over to Potts, casting a quick glance toward the stars. Somewhere along the line she had stopped taking the time to enjoy the view and to envision the possibilities the future might.

"I should think Crewman Summers' transfer would give you more pause," Ilan said, continuing to watch the stars. "I'm as yet unconvinced of her suitability for this department."

Brennyn looked at Potts and shrugged. "And I'm as yet not convinced of her unsuitability. Emma has a lot to learn, I'm not denying that, but I'd like to give her the opportunity before I dismiss the idea out of hand." Scott didn't add that at one time she thought the same of Potts, but had decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Are you saying you'd be uncomfortable helping me supervise her training?"

"I'll do anything required of me," Potts confirmed. He turned to her and studied her closely. "Have you been doing that? Supervising her?"

"Of course," Scott replied. "Is there something else?" She got the sense there was something he was not telling her.

"Crewman Summers threw a drink on a fellow crewmember in the Lounge...I have grave doubts about her temperament being conducive to the counseling profession." Potts looked back to the portal. "And..." he began, trailing out the word but failing to follow it with any others.

"And what?" Bree prompted.

"And...I don't like her," Potts said, hanging his head a little as if embarrassed. It was a weighty admission for a half-Deltan who liked almost everybody. Even when he was the butt of a joke or only barely tolerated, Ilan still managed to like the people involved. And he didn't like Emma.

"Has something happened between the two of you?" asked Scott. It was the last thing she would have expected from Potts, but the way he was acting, she knew he was serious.

"No, sir," he said, sighing. He looked down at his large feet. "I'm afraid I can't give you any source of my misgivings, save what I've observed. It's more of a sense of her." He looked out at the stars again. "Or lack thereof," he clarified, almost to himself.

Bree nodded, not wanting to dismiss the other man's claims out of hand. "I respect your feelings, Doctor, but I'm not sure I understand what it is you'd like me to do about them at this point. I'll certainly continue to monitor her progress, and if there's another incident like the one in the Lounge, I won't hesitate to call her on it, but as I said, I'd like to give her the opportunity to prove herself and to learn what we expect of her before we take any sort of more drastic action."

Potts was quiet, debating if Scott's passive wait-and-see attitude was what the situation required. At least she was not expressly prohibiting him from following his own course of action, were he to develop one. "Yes Lieutenant," he muttered, already formulating his own plans.

"And Doctor," Bree added. When she was sure she had Potts' attention, she continued, "While I certainly respect your personal feelings toward Miss Summers, as her immediate supervisor, I expect you to be able to separate those feelings from the objective and impartial evaluation that she is entitled to. I'd like you to keep me informed of any further concerns regarding Emma's conduct, or any action that you might take with regard to that conduct in the future. Are we clear?"

"You may consider my concerns about Crewman Summers ongoing until I say otherwise, Lieutenant." Potts leveled a rare gaze at her, devoid of all humor. "As for any actions I might take, you have always been informed and will continue to be...but surely you're not suggesting that I refrain from taking any actions that are within my rights as Assistant Chief Counselor?"

"Not at all," Bree replied, equally serious, "but we can't all be as objective about someone as we normally might be if there's something about a person we don't like. Now that you've made your concerns known to me, it's in both our interests to ensure there is no bias either way. I do appreciate your honesty, Ilan, and I thank you for it."

"You're welcome," Potts offered, taking one last look at the stars before turning back to her. "A piece of advice, Lieutenant?"

"What's that, Doctor?" Bree asked.

"Watch her closely," Potts said simply. "Good day to you."

"Good day to you," Bree replied. "You're dismissed." Potts nodded politely and went for the door. It swished behind him.

Long after he'd left, Potts' words were still ringing in Brennyn's ears.

---

"Seeking Penance"
By Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer
Ensign Kremer - Medical Officer
Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck 4
Stardate: 57908.07, 10h17

***

Barely able to spot the sapphire phaser flare continually sparkling on the other side of the thick copse of trees ahead, Damhnait jogged swiftly towards it. No matter how hard she ran, not a single hair fell out of place from the long ponytail positioned high on her head. Just when she thought she lost sight of the flare, she made her way through a final tangle of trees and out into an opening, leading down into a grassy valley. Jogging down the slope, Damhnait was thankful to be in a sleeveless hot-weather uniform under the sweltering holographic sun. She was less than thankful to join her new scavenger hunt team-member: Amy Reese.

"Doctor Sefton!" Amy's surprise and chagrin was apparent in her pouting frown. Even when catching up to her new team-mate, Amy stayed a good three feet back. "I-I think I detected something in that direction." She raised her bare arm to point, revealing the damp stain upon her uniform beneath. The volume of sweat she was perspiring seemed to increase with Damhnait's appearance.

Damhnait slowed to a full stop, and looked to Amy to calmly insist, with a flourish of her hand, "Lead the way." As they headed up to another heavily wooded expanse to find a golden sonic separator, Damhnait made certain to walk alongside Amy, but didn't appear to gain any pleasure from making the nurse uncomfortable. "Did you have any trouble working with Kremer?" Sefton asked.

"No, Ma'am," Amy replied timorously. "He talked a lot, as usual, but he was fun." She avoided Damhnait's gaze by shifting her focus to the tricorder's readings. Amy altered her course according to the device's newly triangulated coordinates. "This way," she said, then tacked on a hasty, "sir."

Damhnait didn't even attempt to meet Amy's downcast eyes, when she smoothly asked, "Now, what do you feel you deserve?"

Amy looked aside at her superior, her expression one of genuine confusion. "Deserve... I-I don't know what you mean."

Damhnait's eyes looked even darker than their natural onyx colouration when they met Amy's own bright eyes. Flatly, she said, "You repeatedly struck a fellow officer in public. I should think the lack of either physical harm or complaint from Cristobel will probably keep you out of a court martial, but then I haven't advised Cristobel on how to proceed yet. I ask again: what do you feel you deserve?"

Amy's throat knotted, and her glistening eyes averted to the passing trees. "I didn't meant to hit him," she said, her voice audibly cracking. "I didn't...it's like I wasn't even there, like I was watching myself doing it...but I had no control." She sighed heavily and shrugged. "I guess...I guess I deserve whatever Crissy-- Ensign Sefton wants."

"But what do you feel you deserve?" Damhnait said as more of a genuine question than a demand. She then murmured, "In addition to anger management sessions to augment your existing counselling schedule."

Amy gasped and appeared ready to emit a shrill protest, but one quelling look from Damhnait was enough to quash the urge. Her mouth was in full pout now. "I guess I deserve that," she admitted reluctantly. "And...and I owe Cristobel an apology...and I deserve to be reported and reprimanded and thrown off the ship!" she finished, red-faced and out of breath. Amy then whimpered and threw up both arms. "I deserve it all."

"If you are prepared to repeat that to Commander Lyrr, without throwing an overly dramatic childish tantrum, I will speak with her about foregoing a court martial," Damhnait said evenly, allowing her tone to become gentler towards the end.

"Court martial!" Amy sobbed, tears immediately gushing down her cheeks. "What...what will I do if I'm kicked out of Starfleet? I-I don't want to go, Doctor!"

"Then don't go. It's that simple. Make your choice like an adult and fight for it." The passion in Damhnait's words faltered slightly when she amended, "Metaphorically speaking."

Amy sniffled and wiped her nose hastily. "Well...what about Ensign Sefton? He gets to be so cruel to me and I'm the guilty one here?" She tramped petulantly now, crushing the grass beneath her feet, and tapped aggressively at the tricorder. "This isn't fair! And I don't care about how childish I sound! Ensign Sefton insulted me, hurt me, and everyone's on his side." Amy sobbed again, and whispered, "Why is everyone always against me?"

"You are not privy to my conversations with Ensign Sefton nor any other member of the staff. Until you have shown improvement with a counsellor, and have proven yourself capable to me, you will continue to not be privy to my command decisions that do not include you. Do not assume that, since he has not been whimpering about it, Cristobel has not been reprimanded. And how can you spout triteisms like "why is everyone always against me" when I just offered to help you?"

"You...you did?" Amy watched Damhnait quizzically. "You just gave me my options.... Where was the help in that, Doctor?"

"Nowhere. No help," Damhnait said - her voice and features hardening simultaneously. "When the rest of the senior staff undoubtedly finds out about the violence on their ship, my offer to speak to Commander Lyrr or Captain Salinger in your defense, because you're a member of my staff, would be meaningless, I suppose. Worthless. Nothing. Especially since my first, second and third impulses - all ignored - told me to demand that Cristobel immediately press charges against you."

Amy lowered her head, sufficiently chastised. "I...I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just...I figured you'd be looking out for Ensign Sefton instead of trying to help me. I mean...it's what any good mother would do, right?"

"You are right, but, fortunately, I can look out for more than one person at a time. I'm glad we're in agreement." For the first time either of them could remember, Damhnait smiled at Amy warmly: "Because if you touch my son or any member of my staff again, the Captain and Chief Medical Officer of any ship you attempt to transfer to, and there will be a transfer, will look over your Starfleet Record and cringe. I will invite Xayella Tagliesh, Mason Farrell and Andrea Collins to my quarters for tea, and they will, in succession, read over your record, and they will, in succession, cringe. Any additions I make to your record will be encoded as classified, and you will never even know what it says. Understood?"

She frowned, and nodded sullenly. "I understand.... I-I'll just stay away from Crissy. That'll make everything better. I-I really am sorry, Doctor Sefton. You just don't know how hard it is--" She sighed heavily, knowing her department head was the last person who wished to hear her grievances. Self-pity was the only way to go for Amy Reese. "Ten more metres according to the tricorder," she told Damhnait glumly. "You get a new partner soon... Lucky, huh?"

"We're not through this yet," Damhnait told Amy in a sagely tone. "Finding a goal, doesn't always mean reaching it."

Amy puzzled over the aphorism...for longer than anyone should have had to, but was finally broken from her reverie by a red flash arcing over the tree canopy. Amy sighed and managed a taut smile for Damhnait, realizing they had yet to retrieve their quarry. "Sorry we didn't reach our goal, Doctor. Maybe next time." She waved briskly at Damhnait as she jogged off, hoping she had better luck with her next partner.

***

A flock of birds flew away noisily from their resting places as the high pitched mewling screech followed by the splashing of water rang out through the vicinity. One fur-covered paw followed by another clawed their grip onto the moss covered rock as a very wet Kremer pulled himself up from the water and onto the rock. Shaking his fur he reattempted to navigate his way back across the small lake.

Currently he was following the map given to him, the directions whilst not in the least bit near accurate; make note to comment to Sefton on better mapping in future, Kremer had been able to learn that according to his tricorder (waterproofed, thank the gods of Cait), that the violet motor assist band he had been searching for was right on the other side of the cavern set near this waterfall that flowed into a small lake. Only problem. One had to literally navigate across rocks to get to the cavern And not just any rocks.

Slippery. Moss. Covered. Rocks.

Kremer had naturally assumed that due to his excellent physical cat like qualities, he would have no problem getting across. He was however learning this to be exactly the opposite.

"Almost there...just a few...more...stones..."

SPLASH!

Pulling himself back up the surface Kremer quickly climbed back onto the first rock he could grab hold of. The current from the waterfall was making getting back to his previous positions insanely difficult. Shaking his whiskers free of water he looked to see how he was progressing, on the plus side he did seem to be falling into the water less and was starting to get the hang of navigating his way across. A cerulean flare shot up in the sky from roughly the direction Kremer had just come from.

"Alright...this time..."

***

Raina Derrell, Saffron Pakarinen and Cristobel Sefton traipsed up a steep dirt trail, this one over a kilometre away from the campsite. Of course, Cristobel was positioned between Raina and the nurse who had carelessly repeated a false rumour about Raina being a masochist, which Raina herself overheard and hyperventilated when the wording of the rumour caused countless memories of her time as a Prisoner of War of the Cardassians to come crashing down upon her.

Leading this team on their portion of the scavenger hunt was Raina; the roughly accurate map on her flat tricorder was to lead them to an emerald laser scalpel, as well as another map. Looking up from his own tricorder's display, Cris regarded his companions, who'd been utterly silent, to ask them, "Do either of you see a well?"

So far Raina had been quiet until Cris's comment. "Unless the map is totally wrong the well should be just over there." She pointed to indicate the direction. It took her a bit to see if her rather limited navigation skills were anywhere close to the target.

"You're right!" Saffron cheerily enthused, as she spotted it. "Good job."

"Have to be able to navigate to pass basic Academy level classes," Raina commented to no one in particular.

"I'm sure you aced those classes," Saffron quickly said.

Raina couldn't figure out what was up with Saffron but let it slide as they continued on their way. "So what's next?" The question was meant to keep the team on track, nothing else.

"Actually locating the emerald scalpel." The trio approached the waist-high stone well with its wooden overhang, and Cris continued, "It could be behind a false brick, or in the grass, or maybe in the bucket on the pulley..."

"Or it's at the bottom of the well," Saffron pouted.

This time she didn't answer other than a brief, "Let's keep looking." Raina wasn't really in the mood to be participating in a treasure hunt.

"Dhia, I think Saff is right." Cristobel looked from his tricorder to the well's deep drop. He grabbed hold of the rope attached to the bucket and tugged on it. "Feels sturdy enough. Either of you know how to rappel?" Cris looked between Saffron and Raina. Cristobel's own build was fairly lithe, even for a Betazoid, but he felt more confident in his ability to securely lower one of the women...with the strong assistance of the other.

Raina glanced at both of them, "Had to do some further rappel training before being sent on a Frontier assignment, but I don't like dark places."

"I can handle it," Saffron volunteered. "Don't worry about it." Slipping on gloves from a pouch on her hot-weather uniform, Saffron hopped up onto the edge of the well and quickly attained balance, as a gymnast would. As she wrapped the rope attached to the bucket around one of her wrists and one of her ankles, Cris and Raina took hold of the rope dangling from the other side of the pulley. "Ready?" Saffron asked.

Raina simply nodded. The idea of having to let Saffron rely on her trust was a bit disconcerting, yet she was very glad to not have to be the one going into that well. Too many memories associated with those days on Yassir. Thoughts Ensign Derrell immediately shoved aside to do her job. Rappelling wasn't an easy task so safety became her paramount concern. Eventually there would come a point Raina could deal with Saffron on the level she really wanted to, but that would take time. But Raina never let revenge enter the picture, as much as she wanted to, for other reasons. Slowly she started to let the rope slide through her gloved hands.

Saffron took her first steps down the inner wall of the well tentatively, but grew bolder as Cris and Raina lowered her steadily. "This isn't bad. Almost fun," Saffron cheered. Forcefields would protect her from a nasty fall, and yet her stomach still twisted when she glanced down the drop. A sense of ease returned to her when a glint of the green scalpel caught her attention.

"Find it yet?" Raina called. She was holding onto the rope but something didn't seem right. Inwardly that bothered her. To move from her present position would compromise the entire attempt. But Raina couldn't ignore those uneasy feelings either.

"I need to get much lower," Saffron called from inside the dry well.

A couple of paces behind Raina, Cristobel grunted with the effort of releasing more rope at a completely controlled and steady pace. Worried by the general feeling he sensed from Raina, the Betazoid asked in hushed tones, "Are you okay? Nng! Are you losing your grip?"

"No I'm not losing my grip," she replied quietly. "Something's wrong and I don't know what I don't like the way the rope is..." She wanted to finish the sentence but her mind clearly did. The word reacting clearly came through in her thoughts.

Before either of them fully comprehended what she was thinking, the rope snapped apart, leaving Saffron to freefall the rest of the drop. Saff crashed to the hard ground in a heap, screaming with shock. The tension on the rope disappeared faster than Raina could do anything about it. Instead she found herself propelled backwards as a result of the momentum produced from that sudden change in forces. It happened fast enough and with enough velocity to cause her to lose her footing. Along the way Raina felt a pain shoot up her leg, then hit the ground hard. "I need some help over here." The reaction sounded calmer than she expected it would be, however there would be no getting up off the ground without help. That much was certain.

Barely retaining his footing, Cristobel dropped what was left of the rope and crouched down to Raina. Looping his arms under Raina's arms, Cristobel assisted her to her feet, and she nodded when he asked her if she could at least stand.

Saffron suddenly stopped screaming, when she finally noticed that she didn't feel any pain, since her fall, unlike Raina's, had been serious enough to engage the safety procedures. ...And then she began screaming anew.

"Saffron?" Raina queried her mind had kicked into medical overdrive the moment things went wrong. "We need to find out if she's ok and find a way to get her out of there." An adrenaline rush caused Raina to push her own physical pain aside for a time.

"My legs! Twisted! Bloody!" Saffron's shrieks shot up the well.

"It's just holograms and forcefields!" Cristobel hollered. "Your legs are fine. You're gonna be fine." Softer than Saffron would be able to hear, Cris asked Raina, "Are you going to be okay to walk?"

"Guess we'll see," Raina commented just as quietly, "I'll try but there's no guarantees. Adrenaline is masking a heck of a lot right now." It was the only honest answer she could give him.

Raina and Cristobel slowly took a step towards the well, each with an arm around the other's shoulders. Saffron had stopped screaming, but they could still hear her panting. Looking to Raina, Cris asked, "Any emergency medical levitation ideas coming to mind?"

"Thinking since my primary idea is technically out the window." She looked seriously at Cris. "We need to be able to get a good assessment of both parties' injuries. If you need to, call in further assistance."

Yanking his phaser flare from a loop on his hip, Cristobel fired cerulean splashes of energy up at the clear sky. Cris repeated the process with red sparkles from Raina's phaser flare. Kremer and Amy had been scheduled to join their team, once this task was completed, and Cris hoped they'd be able to converge early. Throwing the flares aside, Cristobel handed Raina the real medical tricorder he'd stored in the cargo pocket on his thigh, and took another step towards the well, to scan Saffron with his holodeck-created tricorder.

Raina scanned herself with the tricorder. Quickly hiding the slight frown that appeared when she took note of just exactly what her injuries were. "How is she?" The question was directed at his assessment of Saffron's injuries.

"Broken left ankle, multiple fractures of right leg, numerous lacerations and contusions on her legs and arms," Cristobel reported from what he saw on the holo-tricorder's display. "Med'corder," he called to Raina, who handed him the real medical tricorder. Cris took a quick moment to examine Raina's readings, before scanning Saffron. "She doesn't have any real injuries."

Hobbling with Raina towards the well, until they were leaning against its lip, Cristobel shouted down to Saffron, "You have the longest length of rope. You have to tie it like a harness around yourself, and tie a rock to the other end, to toss up to us."

"I'll try," Saffron whimpered.

"And you should be off your feet," Cristobel insisted of Raina. Helping her sit down on the ground, without putting too much extra stress on her legs, Cristobel then sat down by her side to wait for Kremer and Reese's arrival. Sarcastically, he enthused, "What a day, huh?"

Raina nodded she really wasn't in a state to argue with Cristobel's assessment. "Yeah not exactly the way I hoped the day would turn out."

"Let's hope one thing will go right, at least, and Amy and Kremer will arrive to do the lifting before Saffron gets an end of the rope up here. Kremer's a burly man and Amy... Amy's arms pack more strength than one would expect," Cris trailed off sourly. "We should find a way to make our next emergency happen while we're in a fully-stocked Sickbay with fully-operational transporters," Cris said over-optimistically.

She looked at him with a smile, "I have to agree with you...ow--" Raina winced rather noticeably when she tried to get more comfortable and her injuries didn't like it. "...there. Next time remind me to insist on a safer way of winning the game."

"Exactly," Cris said. "In fact, next time around? New game all together. Next time: pudding eating contest."

---

"Manning the Nightingale, Part 4"
by Doctor Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Doctor M'lira - Assistant Chief Medical Officer
and Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb - Engineering Consultant

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.07, 15h55

***

Lieutenant Commander Zareb was waiting again. Waiting in the Chief Medical Officer's office while that same CMO evaluated him with disconcerting dark eyes.

They had greeted one another with a few pleasantries, Zareb had explained that he was there to meet with Dr. M'lira, and Sefton had asked why. His explanation of the why included a brief reference to the senior staff meeting Dr. Sefton had not been asked to attend and it was during this explanation that her previously warm gaze turned into an icy glare and she had answered his polite, somewhat lengthy explanation with a single word.

"Oh."

So that left them sitting in their respective seats, watching a wall of silence being built brick-by-brick and playing some strange game of chicken to see who would the first to knock that wall down.

"Commander," Sefton began even as Zareb said "Doctor." They both stopped and waited through an awkward silence though tentative smiles returned. Zareb recovered first.

"After you, Doctor," he said, his accent cutting the 'c' into the hardest 'k'.

"Did you have a specific appointment set with Doctor M'lira?" Damhnait asked in her own softer Betazoid accent. "She was supposed to be reporting to Sickbay late today, because she was on duty during most of Alpha shift, while I was leading a training exercise on the holodeck."

"Yes, Doctor," Zareb said, the words weighted by his deep voice. "Perhaps it was scheduled before your team building exercise...how long had you planned it?"

"Two days ago," Damhnait answered. "I had planned to use more time for preparation and specialising of a holoprogram, but the situation became...urgent. I presume, at some point, you have had to take over a messy situation left behind by someone else?"

"I'm making a career of it," Zareb said immodestly. A lot of the technology he was working with on the Nightingale had begun with other engineers but it was Jabari who'd refined the individual parts of the whole. "And did your exercise have the desired effect or is it still too early to tell?"

"I suspect it only established that the situation cannot get any worse," Damhnait admitted.

"I've observed your department," Zareb said. "Briefly today and probably several hours on a PADD screen...they're efficient, in spite of the various misbehaviors. They need only someone to lead them." He smiled at her. "They have that now."

"Thank you," Sefton said, almost blandly. Candidly, she admitted, "...I would probably appreciate that more if I had any idea who you were."

Zareb looked at her blankly. "I did introduce myself, Doctor. Is there something else you wish to know?"

"Yes," Damhnait affirmed half-heartedly, "but I doubt you would be authorised to provide me with a satisfactory explanation of your need to disrupt my Assistant Chief's circadian rhythm for the sake of... whatever it is your 'engineering experiments' on the Sulu are trying to accomplish."

"The Sulu has precious little to do with it," Zareb said, favoring Sefton with a blank look of his own. "I suspect Doctor M'lira's addition to the Nightingale crew will be quite unnecessary but the Captain insisted."

"I suppose I will simply have to trust your opinion that the experiments will pose no medical risk to this crew," Sefton said in a clearly ambiguous tone.

"None to this crew," Jabari began but the hiss of the door behind him drew both his and Dr. Sefton's attention away from any further elaboration. Dr. M'lira had arrived. Her feline features were the most prominent feature of the humanoid doctor. With ears jutting out from the top of her head like a Terran cat and a tail swishing along behind her, she drew attention from those who weren't familiar with the Caitian species. She wore a standard duty tunic and a skirt that gave freedom of movement to her tail. She gave Zareb and Sefton a warm smile.

"Good afternoon," she said, her voice a melodic purr. "I've heard much about you, Commander Zareb. I'm glad to be able to finally make your acquaintance."

Zareb stood and offered his hand, Terran fashion. "As am I, Doctor M'lira." As they shook hands, Jabari could feel the small bites of her claws in his palm, a curious sensation when coupled with the feel of her silky fur. Zareb indicated the chair next to him. "Have you heard anything about the Nightingale project, Lieutenant?" he asked, settling back into his own chair.

"Very little," M'lira answered as she took a seat. "Though, I do know that you're running some sort of secret project here that is occupying a good deal of space within one of the shuttle bays."

Zareb resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. One of the concerns he'd been having was the amount of scuttlebutt the Nightingale might create - rumors sometimes had a way of becoming disturbingly accurate. He didn't have a chance to follow the worry.

"Operations to Commander Sefton."

"Sefton here," Damhnait responded, and smiled apologetically at the others.

"You have an incoming transmission from the runabout Rio Grande."

Clearly perplexed by the source of the message, Sefton verbally-stumbled, "I'll, uh, take it...elsewhere." Without another word, she marched out of her office.

Zareb regarded the Caitian for several heartbeats before he spoke. "I should tell you, Doctor, that I had only tentatively planned for a medical officer to be assigned to the Nightingale. Most of the testing will be conducted within transporter range of the Sulu so I was unsure of the need. However, Captain Salinger insisted and recommended you."

"Sometimes there may not be time to transport someone back to the Sulu," M'lira answered. "And, sometimes a condition will prevent the use of a transporter without exacerbating the problem." She gave him a smile. "And, I believe it is fortunate that Captain Salinger is insisting a medical officer be assigned as part of your team. You could have Dr. Sefton insisting. If you have concerns over my presence, I will stay out of the way of your team and be ready should something unfortunate occur. In the meantime, it would give me a chance to conduct research that working in sickbay doesn't usually allow."

A genuine smile crept onto Zareb's face. "I do not think you'll be in the way, Doctor. I simply hope that there is nothing for you to do, save for your research."

"That is always my hope as well, Commander," M'lira answered. "I find that my greatest happiness is when I have no work to do, because then everything is fine."

Zareb leaned back in his chair, casually crossing his legs ankle-to-knee. "I was surprised to find that your security clearance had not been upgraded, Lieutenant," Jabari said, matter-of-factly. "Was that an oversight or has there been some incident that precludes it?"

"No incident," M'lira answered. "As a lieutenant junior grade and an assistant chief medical officer, my clearances weren't required to be very high. During the brief time I served as the chief medical officer on the Sulu, my security codes were uprated. But, they reverted to their previous levels when Dr. Sefton arrived." Her smile was pleasant and there seemed to be no bitterness in her tone, despite having been removed from the top-ranking medical officer on the ship.

Zareb's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Well, if your higher clearance was approved temporarily, perhaps I can convince Captain Salinger to simply reinstate it. It would save your life the painful subspace dissection of the security group back at Utopia Planitia."

"I am certain modifying my clearances wouldn't be a difficulty," M'lira said. "Especially given the nature of this mission."

Zareb looked at her closely. "You seem especially...unbothered...by all of this, Lieutenant. A department head position and security clearance upgrade were both revoked. You don't view those realities as setbacks, Doctor?"

"Not in the least," M'lira said with a smile. "I'm a doctor, Commander. My first love is caring for patients, the department head position and the security clearance, they're nice...but they're something separate from the caring for patients. In fact, I found that as department head, I had less time for patients because of the administrative work. Of course, the chance to research is also welcome." She gave him a smile. "I take life as it comes to me, and in Starfleet, with all the changes we see in our lives, I've found that fretting over things such as these leads to unnecessary stress."

Zareb had an urge to frown but resisted it, even as he rose to his feet. In his experience, someone unconcerned with his or her own career could not be expected to put forth the effort that Jabari demanded. However, M'lira was a Doctor and Zareb knew that there was sometimes a separation between being committed to your job and being committed to Starfleet. All things being equal, he'd rather someone be committed to their job. He offered a hand to the rising M'lira.

"Pending a discussion with Captain Salinger," Zareb said, accepting her small claws into his palm again. "Consider this a tentative 'welcome aboard', Lieutenant."

M'lira gave the commander a nod. "Thank you, Commander Zareb," she said. "I hope my skills will not be needed for your project, but they will be at your disposal, pending the captain's approval. Additionally, while most of my skills lie within the medical field, I am more than willing to lend a hand if needed elsewhere. I wouldn't want to merely take up space."

Zareb was nodding as well. "I'll review your service record and see what else you have to offer. Lieutenant Tagliesh will be somewhat divided as both the Nightingale's First Officer and Science Officer...perhaps you can lend a hand in her department."

"I'll be happy to help out however I'm needed," M'lira said with a smile. "Thank you, Commander."

"You're welcome, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

---

"Who's Coming To Dinner, Part 1"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations
Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief

Location: Lektar's quarters, Officers' lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.07, 18h30

***

Shirik sat in her usual place when off shift for the day, seated on her bed with the lights dimmed, a mug of acrid-smelling Klaas on the nightstand beside her, poring over various PADDs of information, occasionally tapping notes onto one of them. She was still in uniform, since she usually didn't bother to change out of it until bedtime.

She glanced over at her dresser, where three very old bound books sat, and her gaze fell to the top drawer, where she had placed the small terrarium of black fuzz when she arrived. She tapped another note into her PADD, a reminder to talk to Cristobel Sefton about finding it a place in the arboretum.

The comm signal chirp interrupted her thoughts. "T'Kal to Ensign Lektar," the voice of Benedict T'Kal emanated from her room communicator.

Shirik jumped at the unexpected communication. She took a moment to collect herself once more before answering. "Lektar here..."

"Ensign," he began. "Thank you for your invitation. I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you sooner. I'd be pleased to accept. Perhaps in the officers' lounge this evening? Say at twenty hundred hours?"

She blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected an answer, after the long delay in responding to her message. A smile found its way onto her face. "Yes, sir. I'll be there," she said. Twenty hundred. That didn't give her much time to get ready! What in the world would she wear?

She got to her feet, PADDs forgotten on the bed behind her, and left a trail of uniform in her wake as she headed for the bathroom to prepare for her first social dinner in some time.

***

Benedict T'Kal threw off his uniform jacket and sat down at his desk in his quarters. The blinking message from Lektar had been ignored for a couple of days and he hadn't gotten to it because of his busy schedule. He felt guilty - he'd mentioned to her that he would have liked to have discussed her culture and seen a demonstration of her fighting style, but he'd put all of that out of his mind. Now he'd been impolite and answered her invitation days late. He would at least make it up to her with a talk over a meal. He thought that having it in the Officers' Lounge was playing safe. It would be public.

He'd been playing pool with Arthas earlier. Their discussion had centered on Ben's relationship with Lyrr, and he was still troubled by the complications. He needed something to stop him being morbid about it. Gredala Hex had given her advice and it echoed the thoughts in Ben's head. He was asking for trouble - but he still was fraught with indecision.

Lyrr had Beta shift - now that things were settling down, she would be commanding Beta while he was on Alpha, which made for difficult scheduling. So he had an evening to spare and dinner with Shirik Lektar sounded interesting. He didn't know many people on the Sulu - he always found making friends difficult, and being a senior officer made it doubly so. Socialising with the crew carried connotations in some respects. He was also conscious of spending almost every minute of his free time with Tayla. If she didn't want people speculating it would be wise to meet new people - widen his circle of friends, and a Princess of Drokar wasn't a bad place to start.

***

T'Kal walked into the Officer's Lounge and looked for a free table. He was early. Alpha shift officers were eating, or talking quietly at the tables littering the two level deck. The view ports ran down the left wall and he spotted a free table and made for it, nodding politely and smiling at a few faces he recognised but didn't know socially. As he took a seat he brushed his raven hair over his shoulder; he wore it loose and it hung straight down his back. He wore a dark grey polo neck sweater and slacks, casual but not dressy. The waitress gave him a smile as she took an order for drinks. He asked for hot sake and she disappeared.

He looked out of the port at the view of streaking stars. He never tired of the sight of the doppler shift effect of the ship's warp drive and the warp field. He didn't have long to wait before he saw a dark reflection occlude several stars as Shirik Lektar walked toward him through the throng. He turned and gave her a smile, standing politely as she neared the table.

Shirik was punctual, arriving right at 2000 hours. It had taken her longer than she'd thought to get ready - finding the right thing to wear had been quite a dilemma. Princesses didn't own much clothing that wasn't formal or very dressy, so she'd had to replicate something, and that meant sifting through a catalog of possible outfits from various worlds.

Despite her outright refusal to wear the variant uniform on 'Skirt Day', she had chosen a dress. Nothing fancy, a simple dress in deep royal blue, with a long skirt, short little loose sleeves at her shoulders, and a neckline that dipped gracefully just far enough to let onlookers know she had cleavage without revealing any of it. Around her neck was a silver chain, holding a round black amulet that dangled just below her throat. She too had chosen to let her hair down as it were, letting it hang around her shoulders and down her back.

When she entered the lounge she stood just inside for a moment, feeling a bit self-conscious. She rarely appeared anywhere in public, and even then almost never out of uniform. She hoped nobody noticed her, except T'Kal. Her gaze scanned the room, seeking him out and finding him seated near a viewport. She just watched him for a moment as he looked out, and a small smile came to her lips.

Finally she made her way across the room to his table. She smiled in return as he stood. "Hello," she said, her eyes moving over him and taking in his attire. "You look very nice," she said quietly, thinking that was an understatement.

The way she looked at him was definitely dangerous. She looked spectacular, and Benedict suddenly had the impression that somehow he'd become prey. It was very disconcerting for him to see the violet eyes taking him in like that. His mouth went dry. "Hi," he managed to say with a smile. "You look great." He waved her to a seat catching the sway of her body as she moved gracefully. "I'm sorry I didn't respond to your message earlier...with everything happening at DS9...." He shrugged as he resumed his seat.

She slid gracefully into the indicated chair, every movement one of practiced fluidity, very unlike her usual straight-backed at attention stance when on duty. The dress and her movements highlighted her femininity. Her smile as she watched him sit was warm and welcoming, also nowhere in evidence when she was on duty. "In truth, I didn't think you'd accept," she said. "I knew you were busy, but I took the delay itself as an answer. I'm glad to find I was wrong."

Benedict looked immediately contrite, he wasn't one to be impolite to anyone. "In that case I am truly sorry for my lapse of manners," he said seriously. Her answering smile was demure and he couldn't help but smile back. She had been very attractive in uniform, but she was truly dressed to kill now; her presence had an effect of its own. Studied poise and beauty, grace and elegance in one package that affected him on a basic level. She was certainly a member of her ruling class, a princess in every way. He wondered how she could come into the Federation and serve as she did.

He could see that her presence had attracted some attention from other members of the crew, particularly the males, although there were some seriously 'catty' looks being directed at her back by a few of the women. He grinned as he poured her a cup of sake. He briefly thought of what the ship's gossip mill was going to make of this. At least they wouldn't be talking about his relationship with the XO. "It must be difficult," he said. "Being a princess and coming down to this..." he indicated their surroundings with a nod of his head. "Do you miss your old life?"

She took the cup carefully, examining then sniffing its contents. "What is it?"

"Rice wine," he said pouring his own. "Served hot, it's aromatic and smooth. It is my favorite drink. I hope you like it."

After a moment she said, "Interesting."

He gave her a smile as he sipped at his own cup.

Her gaze studied him, and it was clear she liked what she saw. His smile made him even more handsome than before, and for a moment she just stared at him before catching herself and looking down to her cup once more as she lifted it to her lips. "It was difficult, at first," she said, getting back to his previous question. "But it has its own advantages that being a princess on my world doesn't have. I actually have more responsibility here, and more chance to be something more than I did back home. I'm not just the fifth in line for something I'll never have. Here I could one day command a ship, make important decisions, have real responsibility, things I would never attain at home."

"I would not have thought it like that." He leaned back and regarded her. "I think that is admirable. Some people fail to see that authority must bring with it responsibility to mean anything. You seek responsibility rather than an empty title." He nodded, understanding her motivations. She was gazing at him in a way that made it clear she was interested in him - he wondered if her motivation for dinner was other than a friendly discussion between work colleagues. He was getting the idea pretty quickly that it was - every time he looked into her eyes she gazed back, completely at ease with her self-confidence. Her gaze was direct, and not at all uncomfortable. She was so different from Tayla. Her confidence came from self-assurance and a certain knowledge of her self - not self-defensive or aggressive. "How do you like the Sulu so far?" he asked. Her perfume wafted toward him and it was barely perceptible but intriguing - a mixture of musk and spice that evoked an immediate desire to inhale more of it. He leaned closer unconsciously as he waited for her answer.

"I find that I prefer the Intrepid class ships," she said, sipping delicately from her cup. "They're not so big you get lost in the crowd. You need to get noticed in order to have any hope of advancement, and the Galaxy class are just too big for that. This is a good size, like a small village." Her eyes were on him all the time she spoke, conveying an interest in him as her audience, and as a man. "My job here is taking care of the computer core, down in the lower decks. It's quiet, peaceful, I'm not bothered by anyone so I can get my work done. But then again, I'm not likely to be noticed down there."

"I think anywhere you go you'd be noticed," he said it almost automatically, and then thankfully was interrupted by the approach of the ops officer who was on duty in the lounge. She smiled at them both and presented menus. "Chef Sikara is preparing meals this evening," she said as she stood back with a padd in hand. "Would you like some time to choose?"

Ben nodded. "Thanks," he said and she grinned back at him and cast a glance at Shirik, nodding before retreating. Benedict looked up at Shirik. "His specialty is spiced foods, some are really hot, so be careful." He smiled at Shirik and the memory of Tayla savouring her Hasperat with a satisfied smile on her face intruded on his thoughts. The memory itself was the very first time he'd seen her truly smile - it had been before he had admitted that he was starting to care for her. She'd smiled a lot since then.

The contrast between the two women - the one sitting in front of him and the one sitting on the Bridge was almost opposites. Shirik was gorgeous - a truly feminine woman whose beauty was literally captivating. Tayla had a different kind of beauty - she was hard edged and bright, not in the least delicate. Looking into Shirik Lektar's beautiful face he realized that he missed Tayla even more. He covered his private thoughts by examining the menu.

Shirik's smile widened at his comment, looking almost shy for a moment. She looked up as well as the server approached. "Yes, please, I'll need a moment," she said.

She nodded. "I need to speak to the chef at some point, to see if I can instruct him on how to make a proper mug of Klaas, and perhaps even some Drokari foods," she mused as she turned her violet gaze from him to the menu before her. "Do you know what you'll have?" she asked him.

He looked over the top of the menu into violet eyes and once again it was disconcerting. He wondered if he had that same affect on women, the color was striking against her ebony skin. "I might have the Sorgaat," he smiled. "It's a peppered slice of Sorgi, a large mushroom, fungi that grows on Bajor in underground farms. They marinade it in Summerwine and serve it with vegetables. Sweet and spicy at the same time...." He grinned. "I enjoy food in many fashions - even Klingon. The database already has some Drokari dishes." He shrugged. "I was curious...." He'd looked up her security file and the list of replicator codes that were assigned to her, just as a precaution. He didn't want to insult her tastes with something she'd find objectionable during dinner.

"That actually sounds rather good," she said. "I've not had it before, I think I'll try it." She lowered the menu once more, returning her gaze to him. "No matter how good replicator technology is, it just never tastes like the real thing. I've been trying for years to replicate a decent mug of Klaas...but no luck."

She smiled at him once more. "I find Klingon culture fascinating," she said. "They seem to have a lot in common with my people in some ways." She paused as a question came to her. "Do you eat gagh?" she asked curiously.

He grinned. "What Klingon doesn't?" he laughed and nodded. "Yes - and I like it too. T'Kal is a Klingon name, though admittedly I'm not Klingon by birth, I am by association so to speak. I was married a long time ago - my wife was Klingon, and in Bajoran fashion I took her name as my own. I got used to eating many Klingon foods and, if you try you'll get used to anything! I've been to Q'Onos and I'm listed on the honor roll in the Hall of Warriors as a Klingon Warrior." He sounded like he was bragging, and he sat back slightly embarrassed. A part of him wanted to impress this princess of the Drokari, and he laughed at his own foolishness. Shaking his head he said, "I've been trying to get hold of some Blood Crab - you have to eat it live." He looked at her face to see if she was squeamish about it, although if she ate gagh, she probably wasn't.

"I was going to ask if you were part Klingon..." she smiled. "I prefer my food dead and cooked, but I've seen people eat some strange things, so it doesn't bother me, if that's what you're wondering." She paused for a moment and set down her now empty cup. "Do you know that t'kal is a word in my language? It means 'stallion'." Her smile burst into a grin for a moment at some thoughts that sprang to mind at that. She pushed her cup forward, silently asking for a refill.

"Oh?" he grinned, his face coloring at the innuendo and he cleared his throat as he poured her a refill of the sake. "I didn't know that," he finished lamely. He wondered if she was having sport with him, and laughed. "That's pretty funny."

The ops officer wandered back with a smile for them both and a questioning look at Ben. He nodded and ordered for the both of them, adding a request for more sake after looking across at Shirik and getting a smile. She took the menus and left them alone.

"So...what other things Klingon are similar to your culture?" he asked with a grin. She was definitely easy to talk to; he was relaxing into a pleasant conversation without having to mind his step or watch his every move. She didn't seem to have any major hang-ups and that was refreshing. It was strange sitting across from her, with those violet eyes gazing at him with complete interest. It was flattering - and he was enjoying it.

She laughed softly at the look on his face. "I didn't expect it would be so easy to cause the fierce Lt. T'Kal to blush," she said softly, so as not to embarrass him further by being overheard. She fell silent as the ops officer returned to the table, not speaking again until she had gone.

"Well, as you already know, we carry a blade with us at all times." She paused for a moment, and decided to leave off the particular topic of her blade and its sheath for later. "There are fights, not uncommon. I bear a scar from one that could have taken my life once. Everyone learns to wield a Kemla from a young age, especially those in positions of power. As a princess, I was always accompanied by bodyguards, but I needed to know how to fight for myself, for the times when they might not be there. Like here."

He nodded. Politics on the Drokari world was serious. "You don't have to worry here," he said, sipping his sake. "There's enough security officers that would defend you if you needed it. You promised to give me a demonstration too - I'll hold you to that.."

"Oh, I'm not worried here," she said. "It's very tame here compared to my home. But it is nice to know I have a whole department ready to come to my defense." She smiled. "A demonstration...oh yes... I'm not used to giving those."

"I hold training sessions for the security officers and a few crew who take a personal interest in self-defence," he replied seriously. "If you'd like, we could compare styles," he smiled, wondering just what he was getting into. More, what would Lyrr think? He could already guess. The way she had skewered her meal when he had mentioned Counsellor Scott, and that wasn't even getting close and personal the way self-defence sessions usually went. The brief thought of that situation with Shirik Lektar left him thoughtful...there was no doubt he found her extremely attractive. But he was involved. Exclusively. That had been discussed already, and to give his relationship a chance to see where it was going he would abide by that. The trouble was, he was already having doubts. Not concerning Lektar, but more so concerning Lyrr and how she would cope with her command responsibility if they continued. He needed more thought on the matter. He knew how he felt, but was it still the right thing? Even Lyrr didn't know that.

She nodded. "Very well. It's been some time since I had reason to use my Kemla..." She wasn't much on demonstrations, but she could use a sparring partner, especially if she wanted to keep her skills from getting rusty. That could be dangerous if she returned home.

He smiled, "I had a run-in with a woman and a knife a short while ago...she was very good." He shrugged. "I had to kill her." He sounded pained at the admission. "I'd never killed a woman before...." He looked up at her. "I don't ever want to again."

"Gender is irrelevant when you have to kill someone," she said. "Especially in defense of your life. On my homeworld, most of those doing the killing are women. I had to kill the one who gave me my scar."

He nodded. "Very true. Women are warriors too - but Human culture has a different view of women." He smiled, her eyes were softly luminous and watched him, her hands were still, no need to fidget, she was a very controlled woman. All of her attention was centered upon him. He noticed that several of the officers dining in the lounge were casting glances their way. The rumour mill would be running with this one he knew. He didn't care - rumour was to be ignored.

"What do you do for fun?" he asked getting off a morbid subject.

She was relaxed and focused. To her, there was no one else in the room, since he was the only one relevant to her at the moment. If rumors flew from their dinner, she didn't really care. Let anyone dare spread one in her presence. Let them look. Let them be envious.

"Fun..." she pondered. "I don't really have much of that, I imagine. I spend most of my free time researching, programming, reading, or working out."

"That's not healthy!" he stated as he poured refills for their sake. He grinned, "I've got a great Orbital Surfing program if you like extreme sports." He sipped sake and smiled as the lounge ops officer came over to their table with dinner. As she deposited steaming plates of the Fungi and laid out the utensils, Benedict sat back and just watched Shirik Lektar with a slight smile on his face. Crewman Dalia Huron was largely ignored as she set out the meals, and she didn't miss the electricity that seemed to be between the two diners. She excused herself with a smirk.

She smiled her thanks for the refill as she lifted the cup to her lips once more. "Extreme sports? No, not really...they tend to be the 'suicidal sports'. I do enjoy horseback riding, when I have the time and inclination. I used to do that a lot back home." She hid her grin behind her cup as the idea of T'Kal as a stallion being ridden came to mind, grateful for the momentary distraction of their server.

She eyed the steaming plate before her appreciatively. "Now this looks very good already," she said, closing her eyes to sniff deeply of its scent. "Smells good, too..." Opening her eyes once more, she took up her fork and began eating. Even that was done gracefully, her every move trained and memorized and perfectly choreographed. Controlled, as he had thought. She wasn't even conscious of it, it had all been programmed into her in childhood. The proper way to eat, speak, walk, like a princess.

He also began eating. Careful to observe manners, he looked across at her clear enjoyment of the meal and had to compliment the chef himself. It was so much better than replicated fare. The tastes were succulent and sweet, countered by bitter herbs and a tangy sauce that was like a riot of flavours. Benedict showed that he was enjoying the meal, making faces of appreciation as he tasted morsels of the dark fungal flesh. They ate and drank sake almost in silence for a while, just trading looks across the table, and Benedict realised that he was enjoying the meal immensely - company included.

She said nothing as she ate, enjoying the dinner and casting glances at her dining partner across the table now and again. Good manners dictated she not speak with her mouth full, so she didn't speak again until she was finished and pushed the empty plate away slightly. "That was excellent," she said. "I must get the recipe to send to my mother."

She settled back in her chair with a soft sigh of contentment. The meal was good, and her stomach was full, and the rest of her pleasantly warm and slightly fuzzy from the sake. "So, what do you do for fun, other than skate atmospheres?" she smiled, her gaze studying his features.

He pushed his empty plate to one side and sighed. "I've been playing a lot of Springball lately." The thought of Lyrr brought a pang of guilt that he was enjoying this dinner so much. "I run - I have a program on the holodeck I run in. I read quite a bit." He smiled modestly and said, "I play music, and I compose songs and I paint. I play a guitar..."

"I've never been one for sports or games of that sort," she muses. "But then, my activities were always planned for me and pre-approved." She perked up at the mention of music. "You play an instrument? So do I...though not very often. I play the Sundvas, that's sort of like a flute. And I enjoy holoprograms... I write a lot of them."

He smiled, leaning forward with one hand casually propping his chin up, the other wrapped around his elbow. His raven hair fell across his eyes and he absently flicked it away. "There's a lot of pieces you can play with an accompanying guitar," he mused. "I've never had the knack of holoprogramming...but I do enjoy being in them."

He gazed intently into her eyes feeling the warmth of the sake infuse his thinking. They were on the third flask - no...it was empty. He signalled the crewman for another and went back to gazing at Shirik. Her hair was like individual strands of silver-white, it seemed to glow in the soft light of the lounge. Her eye lashes were coal black and long, slowly closing every so often on those luminous violet orbs that seemed to be locked on to him like targetting sensors for twin phasers. His eyes dropped to the black metal disc dangling between her breasts, it carried an engraving of some sort but he couldn't discern it's design against her charcoal skin. The contrast between the dull metal and the slight sheen of her skin was like oil on water. He looked back up to her eyes and caught a slow smile on her lips as long fingers brushed her cheek. Her fingers were slender and pointed, nails of ebony that shone with a slight gloss. Like a charcoal drawing with a dab of colour, she was shades of dark and light.

Caught out staring he smiled. "Sorry." He almost blushed. "So...."

The next sake flask was delivered and they hadn't even seen the girl do it. He poured again for both of them. He was momentarily lost for words. He just smiled at her again.

---

"Who's Coming To Dinner, Part 2"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations
Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief

Location: Lektar's quarters, Officers' lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.07, 21h45

***

Shirik laughed softly. "We're both going to get drunk at this rate," she grinned, and leaned closer. "And that could be dangerous..." she purred, a naughty glint in her eye. With another laugh she sat straight in her chair. "You're quite different from most of those I've seen around so far," she said. "You're actually quite likeable. That's refreshing." Her fingers toyed with the sake cup but she refrained from drinking more of it. She could feel the fuzzy warmth spreading through her body, only enhanced by the person sitting opposite her, and decided it would be very inappropriate to get much more intoxicated here and now.

"So then...dessert, or shall we perhaps take a walk?" she asked.

A walk.... He nodded. "Yeah...quite likeable. " He raised a brow. He grinned. "I feel honoured, Princess." He bowed slightly. "A walk sounds good. Though Sikara's specialty is desserts." With a laugh he said, "That just gives us an excuse to come back later for dessert." He emptied his cup in one swallow, feeling the warm glow of the liquor and the warm glow of her eyes. He was getting in serious trouble now...dinner in a public place was one thing - a private walk on a holodeck was something else entirely. He just smiled and stood. "Shall we?" He waved toward the exit to the lounge.

"That's not much of an honor," she smiled, rising gracefully to her feet. "Especially compared to the un-likeable ones I've met." She watched him empty his cup, and did likewise with her own, hating to waste it. She nodded and made her way towards the exit, her softly swaying body unconsciously enticing to those watching.

"Where to?" she asked once they'd exited into the hall.

"You can show me one of your holodeck creations if you like." He smiled as he fell into step beside her. She was shorter than he and he had to look down at her. "Unlikable ones?" he asked. "Have you had some problems...?" They strolled easily along the corridors. Benedict nodded to an Ensign from Operations who passed him with a smile and an appreciative glance. She smiled widely when he gave her a smile of his own - she just gave Shirik a quick glance as she passed.

"All right." She led the way to the nearest unoccupied holodeck. "No, nothing I couldn't handle," she said. If she noticed the Ensign who passed them she gave no indication of it. "Every ship has their share of unlikable people."

She stopped before the holodeck doors to select a program before entering. "This one I'm still working on. The holodecks have been mostly unavailable lately, so I've been using one of the smaller holosuites to do the programming."

The holodeck doors parted and she moved inside, stepping into a field of grass. Before them gently rolling hills gave way to mountains in the distance, and off to their right some distance away stood an ancient looking castle made of stone, steel, glass, and more modern materials. Overhead a dull orangey globe hung in the sky, casting everything in a reddish hue. It was like an Earth sunset, only judging by the height of the sun this was midday. There were some clumps of trees here and there, but no real details yet other than those of the castle.

"Nice..." he said, looking around in a circle as the doors closed and the illusion became complete. "This is your home?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. It needs alot more work, but it should suffice for a walk."

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. The breeze lacked any scent, and he wondered at the complexities of programming something like this and the depth of detail it must take to get everything just right. He looked back at her as they started walking slowly through the grass. His hair whipped across his eyes and he had to spend odd moments brushing it away. Her hair was being likewise unruly, but it streamed away like a white banner, making her look wild in the reddish sun. The light gave her skin a firelike tone, warm. She was beautiful - breathtaking and he looked away a little confused with his own thoughts. "It's beautiful," he said, looking toward the spires of the castle. "You have horses?" he asked. "I've ridden a few times - but unfortunately never really had the time to learn properly."

She walked with him along the field, over a slight rise to where there was a scattering of rocks, and stopped to look over at the castle. "You should see the inside," she smiled. "When it's finished, of course. I haven't programmed the inside yet. Yes, we had all sorts of animals, and all of us children learned to ride early on. I could teach you if you'd like to learn." She looked over at him and then something occurred to her.

"Oh! You never did get to see my Kemla... Obviously in this outfit I don't have a belt to put the back sheath on, but I'm never without it. I wore my traditional Rennari sheath." She put one foot up on a rock and hiked up her skirt, revealing the sheath strapped to her thigh, along with a good bit of her leg. She slipped the blade from its sheath and let the skirt fall back down once more, turning to hold the blade out to him for inspection.

He grinned as she dropped her skirt back. The sight had been interesting to say the least. He tried to muster some effort to examine the blade when he was still seeing the dark expanse of leg in his mind. Oh boy - stay focused, T'Kal.

The blade was roughly 8 inches long, fluted towards the end, with a narrow channel down the center, and double-edged. At the very tip were two small barbs, ensuring the knife did its damage coming out as well as going in. It was made of the same black material as her amulet, and balanced perfectly for throwing as well as fighting toe-to-toe. It had symbols etched along its length on either side.

It was extremely light. He flicked it up into a short arc, spinning it end on end to check the balance. It landed perfectly in his palm after whistling into a black metal blur. "Well balanced," he commented, his mind now on the weapon. "A stabbing blade, so your style is more direct than circular," he mused. "Close - in fighting style - good for cramped spaces and dangerous." The barbs were similar to the Klingon weapon he carried. "You have to watch for some of the advanced materials," he said, looking back at her. "If you pushed this through an SOB uniform it would snag and you'd lose your blade."

She watched the blade arc through the air, admiring his skill with an unfamiliar weapon. "When you're attacked by assassins, it's most often somewhere in a crowd or alleyway, where there isn't alot of fighting room," she said. She nodded. "It's not really designed for that. We don't have those sorts of uniforms on Drokar. Although I imagine someday we will, now that we've made contact with the Federation... Which means new weapons will be designed. The Kemla's days are probably numbered."

"No," he disagreed with a smile. "A good blade never loses its uses. Silent and deadly - and always reliable. Klingons have had advanced materials for centuries - but blades are still the weapon of choice for a warrior worth his skills. Anyone can pull a trigger. It takes a true artist to wield a weapon like this." He flicked it over in his hand and passed it back. "Not the time for a demonstration," he smiled. "Not in that dress...." He admired her appreciatively for a moment and as she wasn't uncomfortable with showing a lot of thigh, he didn't bother to look away.

"Advanced weapons can discharge, malfunction... A blade is always ready to work," she agreed. She took the blade back with a smile, hiking her skirt back up to slip the blade back into its sheath. She obviously didn't mind his looking.

"My father's culture once believed that a blade once drawn had to taste blood before re-sheathed. I train with a variety of weapons - but I love the blades. I have a vibro-katana passed down by my father's family - it's about two centuries old - but it's still perfect." He grinned. "Maybe I can show you a new style - that can drastically change any combat situation, fighting a style you haven't previously encountered." He looked at the castle. "Might be useful for when you have to go home."

"On my world, once a blade is drawn, it almost always does taste blood before being re-sheathed," she mused. She smiled, liking the way his grin made his face light up. "I'd like that," she said. "I don't expect I'll be going home for quite some time." She turned to have a seat on the rock and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling light-headed from the sake.

He watched her sit down and noticed she was a tiny bit unsteady. They had drunk a fair amount of sake, not enough to make him dizzy, but she wasn't used to it. He nodded at what she'd said. "We have six months at least in the Gamma Quadrant," he said. "I've spent six months on a Romulan Warbird before I got to the Sulu - being here is refreshing. Romulans are hard to relate to. I was desperate for some company by the time I arrived." He wondered if that too had played a part in his feelings for Tayla. It had been a long time since he'd been with any females. "I haven't been on Sulu long enough to make many friends - I'm used to having people around me that I can trust." He looked directly at her. "I've really enjoyed your company, princess, and I'd like to consider you a friend. So...." He grinned. "Just what do I call you...?"

"Nor have I," she said, opening her eyes to look up at him. "I've enjoyed this evening, too," she smiled. "And I could use a friend." She paused for a moment, then answered, "You may call me Shirik, when I'm off duty." Her tone indicated there were not many she allowed that. "And what would you prefer I call you...?"

"Ben is fine," he grinned. He caught another whiff of her scent as the wind carried no other scents. It was exciting. He looked down into her eyes and nodded. "Then consider me a friend," he said as he reached out a hand. Her fingers were soft, and the skin silken as he took hold of her hand and bent forward. His lips brushed her hand. "Highness," he said with a smile, "I believe is correct form." He helped her up and for a moment they stood very close. He cleared his throat and waved at the scenery. "Maybe we should go," he managed to say as he stared into her eyes. "I have Alpha shift in the morning...and it's getting late.."

She raised her hand, allowing him to take it, her eyes watching his every movement. Her skin was almost feverishly warm for a human, but normal for her. She watched his lips touch her hand and felt a shiver run through her. She rose to her feet with her eyes never leaving him, very aware of his proximity. She took no notice of the scenery, her gaze smoldering. "Go..." she murmured, her voice like fine silk. "If you must..."

Her words were wired into his nervous system. He didn't want to go, and he was sure she didn't want to go either, but he firmly put those thoughts aside. There was Lyrr to consider, and duty. He was a man of his word - and he'd stepped out of bounds. He nodded. "I must," he said with a tinge of regret. "I'm glad I accepted your invitation...and I enjoyed dinner. I'd like to...." He paused for a moment. "...do it again sometime." His voice was soft as a whisper, she was close and his head felt giddy. What was happening? The attraction was something dynamic - like electricity flowing between them. Chemistry. Basic. Primal. Chemistry. Her scent invaded his mind and her eyes were like magnets. He was staring. Standing there looking and feeling like a fool. Not moving. His eyes went to her slightly parted lips. No. His will clamped down on the urge to just dip his head and kiss her. Momentary confusion and he looked away, breathing a deep sigh. "This isn't supposed to happen," he said in a whisper. He hadn't meant to speak it aloud.

Her eyes stared into his as they stood there, and caught their brief flick away to her lips. She leaned imperceptibly closer, a silent invitation she wasn't even consciously aware of. She was only aware of him, and how close he was. Close enough to touch...

The spell was broken as he looked away, and she blinked as if waking from some dream. Her keen ears had picked up his words, but they confused her. "What?" she said, not altogether sure what was happening here. Had she drank that much? Was he part Deltan? What? Maybe he was right, it was time to leave. She took a small half-step back.

He shook his head to clear the confusion he felt and she'd stepped away. Thank the Prophets. "I'll walk you to your quarters," he heard himself say. That's all, his mind completed. "Thank you for showing me this." His eyes didn't leave hers even though he was speaking about something else entirely. "Computer...arch." His voice was barely loud enough for the system to comprehend, but the arch appeared on command. It had been the instant change in tone - one of command. He smiled again and turned to the exit, letting her go first.

Shirik nodded silently to his offer to walk her home, feeling a bit disoriented and unnerved. It had to be the drink, she decided. Once she'd had a night's sleep and was sober, everything would be clear once more. She made her way out into the hall, taking a breath of air and focusing her attention on finding the nearest turbolift.

As she walked through the doors he rubbed his temple with one hand, feeling strange - partly sake and partly adrenaline, mostly a dazed excitement that Shirik had inspired that he couldn't shake. A woman had never had this effect on him. Not even Tebrianne had affected him like this. Not on a first date.... When did I start thinking like that? First date?

He walked with her to the turbo lift in silence. Fully aware of her proximity and beyond that, barely perceptive of anything else. The way she moved, spoke, smiled...images running through his head and above all of it he'd wanted to kiss her. He shouldn't be feeling like that. He didn't want to be thinking like that! What about Tayla? his conscience screamed at him. He looked at Shirik Lektar as they stepped into the lift and automatically moved opposite her, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed almost defensively across his chest. He shared a look, and once again it was like being in a current of strong electricity. She was positive and he was negative and there was some force drawing them together. He was angry at himself for feeling it. But he had to admit that he did feel it. He wondered if she felt it too....

She moved into the lift, trying to regain her composure once more. "Crew quarters," she ordered the lift softly, glancing over at T'Kal. He looked...nervous? she wondered. Her gaze was drawn to his as if by gravity, then orbited his eyes, studying the features of his face, the soft waves of his ebony hair, the splash of white near his brow, then on down over the rest of him, slowly, taking in his form and his body language. She felt another shiver run through her as other images sprang to mind that she didn't want to think about just now in a turbolift.

She tore her gaze from him as the lift doors opened and stepped out into the hall, trying to look casual to any onlookers. "It's just down here," she murmured, moving down the hall toward her quarters. Her sanctuary. She paused just outside sensor range of the door and turned to look up at him once more. "Thank you for dinner," she said quietly. "I'd be happy to dine with you again some evening." And whatever else, she thought, surprising herself. "Umm...good night...."

He smiled at her and nodded. It was almost an uncomfortable moment. He looked into her eyes and his smile widened. "No...thank you," he said softly. "Good night." He held her eyes because he suddenly didn't want her to go through her door. He laughed at himself, standing in front of her. "I...would love to see you again...maybe in a couple of days."

Her face lit up in a smile. "I'd like that. Any time you're free." She watched him, just standing there without knowing what else to say. She knew she should stop standing there and go into her quarters, before someone happened by and saw them just standing there looking silly.

"Well good night then," he said again. He took a step backward but didn't turn away. He grinned. "I'll see you soon." Another step backward. "Sleep well," he said and finally managed to turn around.

He walked to the turbo lift and looked back toward her door.

She smiled and nodded at him, amused by his slow retreat. "You too," she said softly. She watched him until he turned away, and when he turned back, her door was just closing behind her.

Benedict stepped into the lift and as the doors closed he thumped his head against the wall. "What am I doing?" he breathed.

---

"Giri: Duty & Obligation"
By: Lt. Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief

Location: T'Kal's quarters, USS Hikaru Sulu
Stardate: 57908.07 23h09

***

Giri: "Imperious duties or social obligations that have to be fulfilled or accomplished in order to hold an honourable position in Japanese society, in certain situations and at given times; duties that have to be accomplished first towards society in general, but also towards superiors, family and, last but not least, towards a person her/himself. In doing so, a person "keeps her/his face", especially when someone has to compensate for professional mistakes or render a service for services received, by strictly adhering to a particular social behaviour."

***

T'Kal stepped into his quarters and as the door hissed shut behind him he leaned back against it. His head hit the metal surface with a dull thump, but he didn't notice. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands in to fists, hitting his head twice more just to see if he could knock some sense into himself. What had happened tonight? He could still smell her perfume. Why had he even gone there? Her eyes were violet, just like his mother's. What was he supposed to do now? Her skin was so dark.... How could he even think about that? He'd wanted to kiss her. What about Lyrr? Her smile was exotic...and her voice..

It was no good. He couldn't even think straight. He walked across his living room shucking out of sweater and shoes. The way she'd moved...it was poetry in motion. He threw his pants across the bed as he cursed himself. "What am I thinking?" he muttered as he stepped into his shower. "Water. Cold," he snapped as he gripped the wall with both hands. He leaned into the immediate jet of cold water that erupted from the six nozzles surrounding him. The water cooled his skin quickly, but he just stood under it with his eyes closed trying to make Shirik Lektar's face and body vanish from his mind. How long had it been since he'd had to take a cold shower? Prophets!

He had to do something. He thought of seeing Tayla - she'd be off duty in less than an hour. Then he knew that he couldn't. He didn't know how to face her. He'd had dinner with another woman - and even though he'd only accepted out of politeness, something else had happened. It had changed. From innocence to guilt in one small step into a holodeck. Prophets he was stupid! It had been so long since he'd been so relaxed. No crisis of emotions, no crying or broken hearted admissions of lying. He had to clear his mind. The cold water helped cool his body down - she'd had that much of an effect on him. He'd been helpless. Her eyes were like his own. Her skin was so soft...the contrasts in their skin tones was amazing. He smiled under the streaming water. "Computer, water, two degrees." The water jets were suddenly freezing. He tensed his muscles against the freezing water and shuddered.

The golden tiger tattoo that covered a good portion of his body shone bright with the imprinted gold metallic lustre as he turned under the jets. He slammed a hand against the wall of the refresher. He was shaking with the cold by the time he ordered the water to shut off.

He stood naked, leaning against the wall, head in his crooked elbows with water dripping off his muscular frame. He couldn't get her out of his mind. No amount of cold water could do it. It magnified the doubts he already had. He had to think through it. Tayla was in love with him. He knew it, and she knew it. He was in love with her. He was! Wasn't he? Why?

Lyrr Tayla had shown him that she was vulnerable that night in the hotel on Risa. She'd shown a part of herself that she had hidden away from everyone. The hurt, the pain. He emotionally connected with her on that level. Hurt and pain. All his life - ever since his parents had been murdered by the Cardassians, Benedict had defended his people. Bajorans - mainly those who had been captured, tortured and brutalized. People like Lyrr Tayla. He'd seen so many women like Tayla. He'd hunted the Cardassians responsible. It had been his Giri. His duty to his people, his family and himself. Benedict had taken on a role of protector. Now he had taken the same role with Lyrr. He was obligated. He owed a duty to her. She had saved his life and he owed her. Giri.

He'd defended her life almost at the cost of his own and in a way that was almost guaranteed to place him in the line of death. He'd faced Viata with a blade because of what? They needed her alive? He should have used a phaser. Tactically it had been stupidity. But he'd obeyed a code of honour too. He'd wanted to risk his life. He'd had a death wish. Yes. He'd had a death wish. He no longer felt that way.

Was that it? She'd brought him back and he was grateful? Owed her for the act? He'd woken up in hospital to face Farrell and the realization that he was alive and had a second chance. He wanted to live now. There was Tebrianne - gone now for five years and he struggled to let her go. Had he? He was still struggling. Her memories were still there. It was almost as if he carried her around in his head. Was it fair on Lyrr to compare her to Tebrianne? Would it be fair on Shirik? No - that wasn't it. He felt devoted to Tayla - but devoted to what? Her recovery? She was so damaged. He hadn't known just how much before really getting to know her. She was isolated - self castigated with the pain of her past. He'd managed to leave that behind. She hadn't. She needed help, but refused it. She'd ordered him to keep silent. Ordered it. He knew that she needed to see a counsellor, before it was too late. He couldn't really help her even though he'd offered. Sometimes letting it all out to someone was all you really needed to do - like puncturing a puss filled cyst; to let the poison out. She didn't want to do that. Lyrr Tayla thought that it gave her strength - she didn't see that it ate her up from the inside. Benedict had been there. His parents' deaths had been like that.

She kept so many secrets. How many times had she lied to him? How many more times would there be? She couldn't help it. He knew it was hard for her, but could he do that? Could he love her beyond the lies and the secrets? She was a glass sculpture waiting to be broken. Fragile. Objectively he knew just how fragile she was. He'd found her in a holodeck sobbing her eyes out over doubts about whether she could carry on if anything happened to him. He had told her that if he felt the same he would call off the relationship.

The truth was he did feel the same. Doubts plagued him. Shirik Lektar was another complication. A beautiful complication.

Water dripped relentlessly from his arms as his long wet hair slowly shed its moisture. Truth. What was truth? Commander Lyrr Tayla was his direct superior. Duty bound him to service, and she had the responsibility to command him to go to his certain death if needed in his performance of duty. He knew without a doubt that she wouldn't be able to do it. Benedict on the other hand could. He'd done it before. Many times. Given a choice between love and duty, he'd choose duty every time. It was a hard-wired aspect of his personality. It was Bushido. It was Samurai. It was honor above all things and duty in service was the highest honor. He had a duty. Giri. Obligation.

That obligation was to one man. On the Sulu it was Matthew Salinger. Captain Salinger. He'd promised he would keep her secret - and he'd admitted to her that for the first time in his life he felt as if he was denying his duty. He was. There was no other way to look upon it. To keep her secrets was to fail in his duty.

He'd rather fall on his sword.

She would never forgive him. She would most likely hate him for it. She wouldn't see that he needed to help her. She wouldn't see past her own secrets. She was opening up to him, really reaching out, perhaps to the first person who had confronted her demons head on and stood his ground. He'd told her he wouldn't go away. That he'd never leave her. He'd given his word.

But to continue with her was wrong. Shirik Lektar wasn't a part of that. He'd already talked about his doubts with Hex. Shirik only highlighted the problem. His reaction to the Drokari woman only proved without a doubt that Benedict couldn't trust his feelings as far as Lyrr Tayla was concerned. He couldn't trust his feelings. How could he not imagine that being alone for so long wouldn't have an effect on him. He'd spent a further six months cooped up on a Romulan ship full of Romulan officers that resented his being there, and only conversed when they had to. He'd been allowed as a courtesy to stand a regular shift, but that was in an area that never allowed him much scope to know anything other than what they wanted him to know. They'd shown courtesy - but he'd been largely alone. For six months.

He'd stepped onto the Sulu and fallen for Tayla. She'd been so vulnerable, and the scars had pushed every emotional button he had as a man and as a Bajoran. Then on the same night she'd saved his life, and he'd been so vulnerable.

In doing that - in pursuing her after the senior officer's dinner, he'd made a huge mistake. He'd placed his duty at risk - and he'd compromised her duty also. He'd risked everything. He loved her - cared for her. He wanted nothing but the best for her - but could he go on? He couldn't risk his duty being compromised. He couldn't risk her. She was on the edge. Seriously on the edge. He doubted that if another emotional crisis occurred she would be able to cope with it. That was the trouble. This was an emotional crisis. If he called it off she'd crumble. If he didn't something else would happen. What the hell could he do? He felt devastated thinking of not seeing her.

Torn between duty and love. He'd told Arthas Hex that he would choose duty every time. But which duty? He owed her a debt of Giri, as a woman, as a Bajoran, as his Commander. Prophets help me, he begged.

---