"Midnight Margueritas: The Fempire Strikes Back"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar; Operations Officer
Petty Officer Third Class Luis Espinoza; Gamma Chef [NPC]
Crewman Second Class Jennifer Hamilton; Operations Crewman [NPC]
Crewman Second Class Leilani Pfeiffer; Lounge Staff [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Lounge
Stardate: 57908.16 00h10

***

The doors whooshed open as she approached and Ainsley breezed into the Operations Office. She'd been looking forward to going out with Mason all day and had spent some time in her quarters getting ready. She was wearing a knee length jeweled skirt and a v-neck black silk blouse. She looked fabulous and, even better, she felt fabulous.

Mason was still sitting behind his desk, just finishing up his work. "How's my guy?" she asked as she approached him. "How's your knee?"

"I think I'll need to stick to a beginner's slope next time we go holo-skiing," he laughed. "I did a follow-up this morning in Sickbay, and all's well," he added with a smile, looking her up and down. "You look fantastic. All dressed up," he mused. "Need somewhere to go?"

She made her way around the desk. "I thought I'd give you the privilege of taking me out tonight," she replied with a grin. As he turned his chair to face her Ainsley got the crazy idea to sit on his knee, so she did. "Feel up to it?" she asked as she placed a light kiss on his lips.

He laughed at the innuendo, and kissed her back.

A cleared throat from the doorway made Ainsley jump off Mason's knee and Mason stand from the desk.

"Well, Counselor, I can't find anything in your eye--" Mason said with total nonchalance, glancing to the door. It was Hamilton.

"Please," Hamilton said with a smirk. "You two are caught. Do you need me to step back outside for a minute? Or thirty?"

Ainsley felt her face flush as she looked down at the floor. "No that's ok, I was..." She cleared her throat. "We were, ah, just leaving. Right?" She looked at Mason for some help.

"Absolutely," he affirmed, arching an eyebrow at Hamilton.

"You guys want to get a drink?" Hamilton jerked he thumb at the door. "Luis is doing the Margueritas in the lounge tonight."

Mason looked from one to the other. "So, shall we go toss back a couple of Espinoza's best?"

Ainsley grinned. "Sounds great!"

***

"Espinoza, set 'em up!" Mason called as the trio walked through the lounge doors. Espinoza grunted and waved absently.

"Men are such babies," Pfeiffer snorted sarcastically.

"We are not," Espinoza answered.

"You have no tolerance for pain at all."

"What's going on?" Hamilton asked.

"Espinoza's got a headache," Pfeiffer explained.

"Have you taken anything, Luis?" Ainsley asked, looking at him with a little concern.

"He won't," Pfeiffer spoke for him. "He says it'll pass. So now I have to listen to him moan."

"Well that's kinda dumb, isn't it?" Ainsley said, with another look at him. "If you're not going to take anything then you really have no right to be complaining."

Sanat strolled into the lounge hoping to grab a bite to eat when he saw a few familiar faces looking in his general direction. He smiled. "Ah Admiral. . . a staff meeting perchance?" When Farrell grinned and motioned for Vijay to come over, he asked those assembled, "How is everyone tonight?"

Ainsley smiled, Hamilton nodded, Espinoza winced, and Pfeiffer rolled her eyes.

"Aren't you on shift tonight?" Mason asked.

"Sepek's covering my shift this morning since I did away mission duty." He was going to add something else when Luis frowned for no apparent reason. The pilot asked out of curiosity, "What's happening here?"

"Espinoza's head hurts," Pfeiffer repeated.

Vijay raised an eyebrow at her revelation. "Shouldn't you take something for it, Luis?"

"Nah, it'll pass."

"See?" Pfeiffer pointed at Espinoza and looked to Mason and the women.

"Will you quit nagging at me?" Espinoza winced.

"See? Now he's whining."

"Will you quit it?"

Pfeiffer sighed. "Men are such babies."

"Headaches hurt," said Espinoza, as though that explained everything.

"That's true," Mason mused.

Sanat nodded. "Most painful indeed," he said, reaching for the nearest salted glass filled with a yellowish-green liquid. "What kind of drink is this?" he asked those standing nearest him.

"It's a marguerita," Ainsley replied. "They can be an acquired taste. Tequila isn't for everyone."

"Like headaches," Pfeiffer taunted at Espinoza.

"Headaches hurt," Espinoza repeated.

"Please. We all get headaches," Hamilton needled, accepting her first marguerita from Espinoza, who was at least still serving. "Women just get through them and move on. Men have to whine about it for sympathy. Babies," she winked and smiled.

"Well, ok," Espinoza said, trying to end the conversation.

"I mean, women get pain all the time," Pfeiffer said.

"What? Cramps?" Mason asked with a smirk. Ainsley grinned and swatted his arm lightly.

"And birth," Hamilton said, taking a swallow.

"Oh, here it comes. The Birth card," Espinoza rolled his eyes.

"Do I have call Doctor Sefton to tell you about birth?" Hamilton threatened.

"No no," Espinoza waved her off sullenly and filled a pitcher for Pfeiffer, who whisked it off to a table.

With an ear keeping tabs on the bickering, Vijay raised the marguerita to his lips for a sip. The taste was unusual, bordering on being bitter and sweet in the same instance. Making a sour face after his initial sample, Sanat took another drink. He smiled faintly; it tasted decidedly better the second go around. Maybe a third try would be the clincher.

Leaving behind an empty table and a PADD of notes, Cristobel Sefton made his way over to the bar where he'd overheard his away team chattering. Cris bewilderedly asked, "What's going on?"

"Hey, Cris, how's stuff?" Mason asked. "Marguerita? Guaranteed salami-free," he chuckled. Hamilton rolled her eyes.

"Sure," Cris accepted, quickly moving on to, "Now, who's calling Sefton to explain what?"

"Hamilton here's threatening Espinoza with your mother. His head hurts, and she says birth is worse," Mason said with a shrug.

"I'm not certain one could place Birth in the same category as a headache." Sanat put the empty glass down and reached for a full one. "I believe Jennifer's referring to our inability to handle more common types of pain."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Hamilton said. "But no way could a man handle it."

"I got really constipated once after a shore leave," Espinoza volunteered. "I figured that was as close to birth as I was gonna get."

The five drinkers stared at him, open-mouthed.

Ainsley was the first to speak. "I can't believe you would even compare that to birth." She was shaking her head. "Think about pushing a grapefruit through a springball-sized hole." She held her hands out to illustrate the size of an infant's head.

"It sure felt that way to me," Espinoza shrugged.

"You're a pig, Luis," Hamilton mocked.

"It hurt!" Espinoza re-emphasized, "It was like--"

"Don't make me order you to stop talking about your colon," Mason interrupted.

"Fine, fine," Espinoza said, starting to wipe down his counter.

"I read once that the closest a man can come to experiencing the pain of birth would be to grab his lip and pull it over his face," Hamilton mused.

"Well, if we're completely ignoring modern medicine," Cris interjected, "someone has to mention the male-suffering of kidney stones and the various likewise passing of objects through an opening even smaller than a springball..."

As Cris went through several orations of explaining the excruciating pain associated with passing a stone, Sanat grimaced; Sefton's description reminded him of a fight on Paean's Planet where he was struck in a kidney by an Orion wielding a chrome-moly pipe. It hurt like Hell for two days and took an equally long time to heal even after some regeneration and biotic supplements. An experience he loathed to repeat anytime soon.

"Aw, why bring that up? That's just painful to even think about, sir," Espinoza said with a grimace.

"What are you talking about?" Mason smiled. "You just regaled us with stories of your spastic colon."

Swallowing a mouthful of marguerita, Cristobel corrected, "If it had been spastic, it probably would have been more of a diarrhea, which would have been less painful. What he's bitching about is more of a blockage--"

"Whatever," Mason shook his head to clear it of the image. "What are we even talking about?"

Ainsley looked at him with a teasing smile. "How men can really be such babies where pain is concerned."

"And how women make sweeping generalizations, apparently," Cris chimed in.

"It's not a generalization if it's right," Hamilton said, sipping her drink. "Women have to put up with all kinds of things that men would never be able to handle. Take make-up."

"Now see, that's not a good example," Mason answered. "You know you don't have to wear make-up."

"Riiight," Hamilton was nonplussed.

"Really. Speaking solely for myself, I don't much like make-up," Mason said, looking to the rest of the guys for support. "It can get messy."

"Not when it's done right, Mason," Ainsley replied. "When makeup is done right you wont even know it's there."

Mason looked closely at Ainsley. "Are you wearing much makeup?"

She laughed and batted her eyes at him. "I'll never tell!"

"Black eyeliner is hot," Cristobel enthused matter-of-factly.

"I like a little make-up on a woman," Espinoza said. "Eye shadow. A woman can never wear too much eye shadow."

"Fair enough," Mason yielded. "I do like a little, maybe around the eyes. But most of it's a waste of time as far as I'm concerned."

"Nope," Hamilton shook her head dramatically. "That's one of the biggest lies men tell. And they've been telling it for so long they don't even realize it any more."

Sanat curled his lips to the left at her declaration. While the pilot waited for the others to comment, he lifted the glass and finished his second drink; these margueritas were tasting better as the morning wore on.

"What are you talking about?" Mason was saying.

"I'm saying men absolutely prefer women who wear makeup. They just don't want to have to wait for us while we put it on. So they feed us this line about how they prefer the natural look because they hate waiting so bad they'd rather we look ragged than make 'em sit."

Ainsley grinned. "And I believe it's always a matter of what's going on as well. Sometimes the natural look is better, but when we're all dolled up and going out I don't believe any guy could say that makeup is not appropriate."

Mason thought a moment and swallowed a mouthful of marguerita. "Okay," he said, "I'll buy that."

"You're a rare specimen, sir," Hamilton shrugged with a sarcastic smile. "Women do a whole load of things to stay attractive and you men don't appreciate it at all."

Farrell feigned an offended look. "I absolutely appreciate everything women do to look good. Did I not shave my legs on skirt day?"

Stifling a laugh, Sanat held his glass out for Luis to refill, as there were no clean ones left. "It is still hard to imagine that . . .you scraping the hair off of your legs . . .even for a skirt party." He nodded at Espinoza as the glass was filled. "Having hair on my legs didn't prevent me from having a splendid time at the gathering."

"It sure got Nurse Szerda's attention," Hamilton mocked.

Mason chuckled and nodded. "It took a week to stop itching," he said, more to his glass than to anyone else.

"Szerda?" Espinoza asked.

"No," Mason laughed. "My legs, cabron."

Ainsley clucked her tongue at Mason in an 'I told you so' sort of way and said, "You should have waxed!"

"You wax?" a surprised Hamilton asked Ainsley.

"Guilty," Ainsley responded. "It's something I tried one time and I just like the results."

"Wow. I couldn't take that."

"I use a laser depilator," Pfeiffer volunteered, returning to the bar. "It's really excellent, and doesn't sting."

"Sure," Ainsley replied. "It doesn't sting and it gets the hair, but how do you exfoliate?"

Hamilton nodded a little at that.

"I don't know about you," Ainsley continued, "but I don't have too much time to spend on my legs. So waxing takes care of it all for me." At that the three women put their heads together, nattering about hygiene.

Mason and Espinoza exchanged looks again. "I've completely lost track of what they're talking about," Mason said, accepting another marguerita. "Are you following it?"

"Man, I quit listening at Birth."

"What would your mother say?" Mason mocked.

"No no, not my birth, when they--" he broke off, his eyes narrowing at Mason's grin. "I see how it is."

"I'm sorry," Mason chuckled affably and held up a hand. "Your head hurts, and I'm taking advantage. I'm sorry." He sipped his drink, trying to tune back into the ladies' conversation.

It was at this moment that Shirik Lektar, who had been sitting in an out of the way corner of the lounge sipping foul-smelling klaas and working on a PADD, rose from her seat to approach the bar, PADD and mug in hand. She glanced at those gathered there, nodding a greeting at the two she recognized, and placed the mug on the bar. "May I have another mug of hot water, please?" she asked whoever was currently serving drinks.

Espinoza nodded and took the mug.

The half Vulcan let his usual mask of indifference slip into place as the dark woman passed him to set the mug onto the bar.

"Suk mikil, Drukiv," said Mason with a friendly smile. "I've never smelled hot water quite like that."

Shirik almost winced at her native tongue coming from his mouth. Well, she asked for it when she gave him that book, she thought. "Good evening," she said. "It's klaas, that's why. It's made like tea." She paused. "I'll try to take it out of range, so it doesn't offend any noses."

"We're not offended. Foul-smelling fun is fun all the same," Cristobel enthused.

"True," Mason nodded. "Grab a stool, Lektar," he indicated an open stool at the bar. "Have a marguerita, enjoy yourself. Tell us about how dull your away mission was."

She glanced at the others, mostly strangers to her, then at the stool, seeming to consider the invitation for a moment. "Very well." She seated herself gracefully upon it and eyed the drinks they were all consuming. "I wouldn't call it dull," she said. "We did find some alien machinery, and some almost-preserved dead bodies." She paused once more. "Will you introduce me to your friends? And what's a marguerita?"

"Cristobel Sefton," Mason said, pointing down the bar to where Cris sat, then moving his finger along the line, "Sanat Vijay."

Tipping his head slightly, Sanat kept his face emotionless as the introductions were made from one end of the bar to the other. He studied her for a moment trying to ascertain where she'd come from and her relationship with Mason.

"And on the other side of you, Ainsley Chambers, Jennifer Hamilton, and Leilani Pfeiffer. Oh, and of course, the irascible, the irreparable, the irredeemable, Luis Espinoza handing you a marguerita."

Shirik nodded a greeting to each one in turn. Flight Control, a counselor, and about a third of the Operations staff.

Espinoza slid forward a wide-mouthed shallow goblet with a salted rim, filled with greenish slush.

She eyed the concoction as she took the glass in hand. "So...what brings this group together at this hour to imbibe alcohol and speak of such interesting topics as body hair removal?" she asked as she took a sip. "Interesting..."

"Well you've pretty much answered your own question," Ainsley responded with a grin. "We're here mostly just to drink and enjoy each other's company." She looked at Lektar, she'd heard that the woman kept to herself a lot and that she had a little bit of a problem getting along with the rest of the crew. "What brings you here to drink tea alone?" she asked in honest curiosity.

Before anyone could say another word there was a loud crash at the opposite end of the dining facility. It sounded like a tray and its accompanying glasses had just been dropped solidly onto the decking.

Shirik opened her mouth to answer Ainsley, but instead she turned like the others to see what had happened.

The Operations crewman grinned sheepishly as most of the room's occupants turned to stare in his general direction. He looked over at Mason. "Sorry, Boss."

"You alright?" Mason called.

"Yes, sir," said the younger man, dropping to one knee and starting to pick up pieces.

Mason nodded and turned back to Lektar.

"In answer to Ensign Chambers' question," Lektar said, "it's normally quiet in here this time of night, so I sometimes come here to study and read."

"Espinoza serves up about once a week or so," Mason pointed at Espinoza, who nodded with a smile at Lektar. "If you like, I'll put you on the reminder list. Just let me know," he carried on before she could affirm or refuse his offer, "and since you're here you can weigh in on the current issue. Do you think men don't appreciate women as much as they should?"

She quirked an eyebrow at Farrell. "I don't think I'm qualified to comment on such an issue, since the male and female roles among my people are different than yours."

"So in your culture men do appreciate women more?" Hamilton asked dryly.

"That's not what she said," Espinoza frowned.

"She said men in her culture treat women differently than we do," Hamilton responded.

"Jenny, will you drop it?" Espinoza asked.

"Why? Because I'm right?" Hamilton quipped, looking to Lektar. "Sir, would you or would you not agree that men would never be able to handle all the things women are expected to put up with?"

"Wait, so why are you perpetuating archaic gender roles, if they're such a martyr-complex-causing burden?" Cristobel interjected to Hamilton.

The pilot smirked. "How about saying that again in plain Standard." He never understood a medical expert's predilection for describing things in a fashion no other ordinary being could possibly understand.

"Choose not to 'put up' with it, or stop bitching about it," Cris explained slowly. He never understood many officers' refusal to educate themselves beyond their specialized fields.

Feeling slightly rebuked by Cris' reply, Sanat replied with a tight grin, "Ah."

"Actually, I simply said the roles were different," she pointed out. She quirked an eyebrow at Hamilton. "Put up with? Such as...?"

"Take Espinoza here," Hamilton said. "He's got a--"

"Headache. I've got a headache. Fine," Espinoza interrupted. "And I didn't take anything for it. And now Hamilton's on and on and on," he rolled his eyes with the repetition, "about how women can take pain better than men can."

"Because they can," Hamilton said, as though explaining this to Espinoza for the hundredth time. "There's nothing a man can experience that's even close to the pains women have to deal with."

"And now we're back to birth," Espinoza said, jutting a finger at Hamilton as he looked at Lektar. "I say there's got to be an equivalent pain. Hamilton says no way. So there it is."

"I can only speak of my own experience, and my own species," she said, taking another sip of her drink. "I've never experienced childbirth, so I can't say what that's like. But among my people, women can resist pain much better than males, for the most part."

"See?" Hamilton said, pointing to Lektar but looking at Espinoza. "It's a galactic constant."

Resisting an urge to roll his eyes in disbelief over the supposed superiority of the female gender's ability to handle pain, the flight controller asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "So why didn't nature simply populate the universe with nothing but women then?"

"I was speaking only for my own species," Lektar said. "It has been scientifically proven. However, to answer your question, males are necessary for most species to repopulate. Like all other creatures, men serve their purpose."

"Thank you," Hamilton said with finality, nodding her agreement with Lektar.

"There's got to be some kind of pain that's equal, or something," Espinoza said lamely.

"Like what?" Hamilton challenged.

Espinoza bobbed his head thinking for a moment, then raised his eyebrows with realization and pointed at Mason. "Getting shot. That got to hurt as bad as birth." Mason chuckled.

Ainsley looked at Mason with a slightly pained expression on her face. "How bad did it hurt, Mason?"

"Pretty bad," Mason said quietly, taking a drink. "I blacked out. It was like . . .I don't know how to even describe it."

"Like pulling your lip over your face?" Hamilton volunteered.

"Sure, that's as good as any," Mason shrugged. "I'd probably have rather torn my lip off than gotten shot, now that I think about it."

"Well you know, I kinda like your lip right where it's at," Ainsley responded.

"Well, thank you," Mason nodded appreciatively to Ainsley and patted her knee.

All six shared the laugh.

---

"Snails Only A Ferengi Could Love"
by Ensign Marp - Flight Control Officer
and CWO Sikara - Head Chef

Location: Officer's Lounge
Stardate: 57908.16, 00h15

***

The orange-walled Officer's Lounge was slightly busy at this time of the night, the Beta shift crew filing out of their hiding holes and into Sikara's lounge to find some food. The Risan himself was standing just behind the counter, one hand stirring a Nausicaan soup and another reading his 'homework' for Nathalie.

His approaching CWO exam was getting nearer and his brain was giving off a noise not dissimilar to a radar as it approached.

Shaking his head, he looked at the time. He was tired and was glad that there was just 15 minutes left until he closed the lounge. Until 7h30 the next day. He wasn't finding it hard to adjust to the odd sleeping hours.

Often Sikara would wake up at 7h00, open up the lounge for breakfast and the awakening Alpha shift. Go back to bed after breakfast at around 11h00 and wake up 3 hours later to prepare for the awakening Beta shift and the departing Alpha shift. The same was done for the Gamma shift and it was quite like what he was asked to do in many hotels on Risa.

But added study-time into his routine was taking a toll on the Risan and he found he was neglecting his custom. One of his many pleasures as a cook was to talk to his customers regularly, but he simply didn't have as much time.

Hearing the 'whoosh' of the large doubles doors that served as entrance and exit to the lounge, Sikara looked up and was surprised to see a Ferengi standing in the doorway.

Becoming interested, he placed the padd on the table, and turned the heat down on the soup. He walked up to the counter and said, his voice full of faux-energy, "Welcome, stranger! I haven't seen you in here before."

"No, I just came aboard at DS9," said Marp. His eyes looked past Sikara, behind the counter hoping that he might see something that would even be close to Ferengi food. He had overheard some junior officers talking about the fabulous food here. "I don't suppose you happen to have food fit for a Ferengi would you?" Marp flashed a dejected smile at Sikara.

Sikara replied, "Not at hand my, friend, not at hand. But it sounds like a challenge to me. Come into the kitchen."

He waved the Ferengi in with his hand and walked to the small ingredients replicator at the back of the kitchen.

"Do not tell anyone that I sometimes use this to attain some exotic ingredients. People think everything is non-replicated but occasionally I have to use this," Sikara winked. "Now, ingredients?"

Marp's hope began to rise as he followed Sikara to the replicator. "Let's see, I would love some tube grubs," said Marp thinking, "I know you cannot replicate them alive but I will take them however you can make them." Marp paused. "Oh and a nice tall glass of Snail Juice would be wonderful."

Sikara wasn't sure whether to jump for joy, the exoticness of the items were tremendous and sounded challenging, or jump for the toilet as his stomach somersaulted at the mention of 'Snail Juice'.

But he managed a nod to the Ferengi and asked the computer, "Please list any types of snails that can be replicated."

A list appeared in front of the pair and the Ferengi looked closer, to examine it.

Marp scanned down the list. "There...that one!" He pointed at a large red snail found commonly on Ferenginar. "It makes the best juice." Marp clapped hands together in excitement and smiled at the chef.

Sikara nodded. He grabbed the PADD that held his homework - cleared it and tossed it at the Ferengi.

Marp caught the PADD and gave Sikara with a questioning look.

"Write down ingredients, I'll see if I can prepare something for you now," the Risan replied.

Ingredients, he thought in a panic. How in the world do I know? Marp's mother and sister had always taken care of the family food. All that he knew was that snail juice was made from snails and if it was really good it had lots of shells in it.

Marp listed the ingredients for snail juice as "several large snails, juiced". He also added that the same red snails could also be sliced and grilled as well. Marp also listed Tube Grubs separately as they were one of his favorites. He wanted to include Spore Pie too but he left it off because he had no clue what was in that. When he was finished he placed the PADD back on the counter. "Thank you very much for helping me."

Sikara nodded, smiling. "It is my pleasure. If you would take a seat at the counter, I shall attempt this snail juice for you. After I serve Mr. Hex."

Marp nodded his head and sat down at the counter. It had been a long time since he had fresh snail juice and his mouth was starting to water as he thought about it.

A few minutes later, the soup was no longer on the boil and Sikara replicated the rather disgusting snails. He approached the counter and got a juicer.

Marp noticed the rather disgusted look on Sikara's face as he juiced the snails. "It might look disgusting," said Marp, "but it is rather good. You should have some with me."

Sikara nodded sheepishly. "I always say that I will try anything once."

"Excellent!" Marp was a bit surprised that he was going to try some. Sikara obviously was blessed with an open mind.

Sikara grabbed a large cup and emptied out the snails into it. He grabbed the juicer and began the terribly audible sounds of squashing them. It took just under a minute, when Marp said stop.

Sikara emptied most of the juice into Marp's beaker and saved about two mouthfuls for himself.

Eagerly Marp picked up his glass, held it up a moment and said, "Here's to your health." Marp drank about half of the glass right away. It was perfect. It had a lot of shells and tasted like no other snail juice he had had since leaving Ferenginar.

"Thank you very much," said Marp. "This is perfect."

Sikara smiled. "I am very glad that you like it."

The Risan now looked at his cup and realised it may have been a mistake to say he would also try. The brownish liquid was filled with bits of shell and looked rather revolting.

He looked up and saw Marp's expectant face.

Sikara silently sighed and said, "And to your health," as he downed the snail juice in one.

He almost gagged on a rather big piece of shell, and he felt very glad that he had given most of it to Marp.

Marp could tell by the look on his face that he did not like the snail juice. Oh well, thought Marp, at least he tried it.

Sikara looked up and said, frowning, "That's a little revolting, to tell the truth. I'm sorry. I'm more than willing to make as much of it and any other recipe I am able to create."

Marp downed the rest of his glass, gave Sikara a smile and said, "You have made this Ferengi very happy, Sikara. I thank you."

Sikara nodded. "It was my pleasure."

The Ferengi got up to leave when Sikara had an idea. He waved a hand to get the Ferengi's attention back and asked, "May I ask a favour of you?"

"Yes."

"I do believe that you are a Flight Control officer," he said, as he saw Marp's eyebrows rise. "News travels fast and there aren't many Ferengi Flight Control officers, or Starfleet members."

"Yes," said Marp again.

"I have to gain a small learning of shuttle and starship control, to pass my coming Chief Warrant Officer exam," Sikara said. "Would you be able to spare some time to teach me?"

"No problem, it is the least I can do. You made my day with this snail juice. We can use the holodeck training program. "

Sikara nodded, smiling gratefully. "I'll contact you when I know when I am free. Thanks again, Marp."

"No, thank you. Your snail juice was very good." Giving Sikara a wave Marp left.

---

"Hasperat & Candlelight, Part One"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 00h25

***

Benedict nodded as the operations officer parked the cart in Lyrr's quarters. A small two-tiered trolley that held covered dishes, a bottle of aged Earth wine (a bottle of Shiraz that Benedict had been assured was perfect for the meal) and eating implements for the dinner.

She gave him a knowing smile, but made no comment as he thanked her. She left and Ben was alone in Lyrr's (and now his) quarters. After the away mission he had brought some of his things, some clothes and his guitar - and of course his swords that now stood in the corner discreetly out of the way.

Depending upon how the evening went, and subsequently with their new living arrangements, he would have to move all of his personal effects here. The quarters were larger than his own, as befitting her rank, and she didn't utilize the space for many of her own things. He had a beautiful kimono hanging on the wall of his quarters that he had bought in Japan on Earth and several paintings that he liked, particularly the watercolour tiger that had been painted by his father. Tebrianne's portrait was now securely in storage in a cargo bay; he'd considered sending it to Michael Bancroft, Tebrianne's brother, but he didn't want to part with it. The claymore was another matter. It was a family heirloom. That would hang on a wall until they returned to the Alpha Quadrant and he would then return it to Michael. He was sure that Admiral Bancroft would appreciate it.

The table was now set. Dark crimson tablecloth with white service, napkins, two candles and a small flower arrangement (courtesy of Sikara) that fit tastefully between them. The lights were dimmed and the music muted. He had changed into comfortable clothes, a pair of black trousers, loafers and a Bajoran styled gold coloured shirt that clasped at the throat and the right shoulder with a silver pin. His raven hair was loose, flowing across his shoulders in glossy bangs as he moved, the white streak tossed back constantly. It was almost time.

His glance rested on the small wooden box sitting on the table and the larger silver box with a black ribbon sitting beside it. He smiled. She had said anything. He chuckled as he set out the wine glasses.

"Ben?" Lyrr Tayla strode hesitantly into her quarters a few moments later, warily peering at the set-up. His outfit, the table settings, the entire scene alluded to another romantic evening of dining and close-calls, and Lyrr was completely skeptical. "Are dinners with you always going to be such a spectacle?" she teased.

"Only the first dinner together in shared quarters," he smiled as he walked over to her. "I promise next time you can get your own." He kissed her 'hello' and grabbed her hand. Without another word, he led her to the table.

The two boxes were conspicuously on the table. He picked up the larger one, with the ribbon and handed it to her. "Go take a shower, and this is for you, and remember that you said anything." His smile was definitely mischievous. "When you are ready - I have the real surprise for you." His eyes dropped to the smaller wooden box sitting on the table, then back up at her significantly.

Lyrr nodded guardedly, glancing sidelong at the box, then at T'Kal. "Okay... I'll be back shortly." She smiled to herself quizzically as she started away with the gift. "Benedict T'Kal," she muttered, "what are you up to?"

Lyrr was a long time coming once she disappeared into the refresher. The water had stopped long ago, and there was no sign of her emerging. Among the silence pervading, T'Kal could make out quiet mutterings from within the refresher.

Benedict stood watching the stars from the view port as he waited, a broad grin on his face. As she started to mutter the odd curse he started to laugh softly, one hand covering his mouth. She'd said anything. Revenge was a dish best served cold.

Finally the swoosh of the door opening drew his attention away from the viewport. Lyrr was still nowhere in sight. "Ben?" her disembodied voice called out into the dim room. "Do I really have to do this?"

He was still laughing, but quietly. "If Mason Farrell can reprogram your replicator to produce nothing but skirted uniforms - and you wear one without letting me see, then yes you do." He turned to face the open door. "Now, come on out," he ordered in a commanding tone, albeit with a smirk on his face.

Lyrr grumbled as she sullenly trudged into the living area. Her hair was combed neatly to one side, and both bare arms were folded over her chest. With lower lip protruding stubbornly and eyes narrowed, she stopped in front of him, appearing not in the least pleased. "You're not serious about this, are you?"

She looked as good as he knew she would. The dress that they had seen on Bajor suited her perfectly. The high collar accentuated her long neck, sleeveless it displayed the stubborn set of her shoulders, but clung to her body all the way to her hips where it flared slightly and dropped to her ankles. The midnight blue material was set with hundreds of tiny diamantes flaring like the arm of a spiral galaxy from the hem to the shoulder. Her feet were clad in the strapped shoes that matched the dress perfectly. The stars outside the view port were a pale imitation. Benedict's smile slipped from his face as he looked at her.

She was beautiful. He just stood staring at her, his violet eyes drinking her in with unashamed desire.

"Stop that," she sang between clenched teeth. Lyrr sighed peevishly and looked away. "If the other surprise is anything like this, I do not want it!"

He smiled. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll keep it for another day." He reached out a hand and turned her chin. "You look absolutely stunning. Thank you."

"Thank me?" Lyrr's pouting lips softened into a smile, and she finally let her hands fall away to give T'Kal an unrestricted view of the gown. "I should thank you," she told him. "No one's-- I've never gotten anything like this before from anyone. It's...it's nice. Though, I didn't get anything for you." She appeared distressed for a moment, with eyes wide and smile fading. "Oh no... Was this some celebration for your moving in? W-Was I supposed to get you something?" Lyrr looked about the room frantically, then began rushing towards her bedroom. "One minute! I'll find something perfect!"

He laughed. "A surprise is a surprise," he said after her retreating back. It was a very shapely retreating back too. The dress dropped bare down her back all the way to the top of her rear. He just chuckled and shook his head. Wow, he thought to himself as he stood waiting for her. There were some frantic rummaging noises. Then silence.

She returned to the room, her movements apprehensive and her hands hidden behind her back. Lyrr stumbled and cursed at the skirt tangled around her legs, kicked them free, then smiled and resumed her approach. "I've had this for a long time...and I have been thinking about giving it to you..." Stopping before him and chewing her lip nervously, she sighed and thrust the gift forward. "It's nothing extravagant," she explained, "but... I just figured since I'm getting gifts, you deserved one."

It was a knife. The blade was in a scabbard that looked well worn, but the handle had Lyrr's name etched into it. It looked old, as if she'd had it for a very long time. He smiled as he took it, with both hands. He gave her a small bow. He chuckled, the sound a rich tone that rumbled from his chest as he regarded her. His violet eyes searched hers. "There is a great significance in presenting a short blade," he said slowly. "In accepting it, in Japanese custom, a Samurai pledges his life to the service and honour of the one who gives it. For a Samurai to receive a blade from his superior in rank, it is a mark of respect. For one to receive a blade with personal significance to the one giving it, it is even more significant." He smiled. "Your gift honours me. Thank you, Lyrr-sama." He gave her a second bow.

She grinned and laughed softly as she returned the gesture. "You really like it?" she asked, incredulous and hopeful at once. "It was just something I stole from a peddler when I was twelve. Mother Yalen would always confiscate it, but I always got it back. I've had it with me since." Sighing, Lyrr whispered, "I'm glad you like it."

"I think that you deserve your second gift," he smiled. He walked over to the table and lifted the small polished wood box. It had engravings across the sides and a single acacia blossom etched into the lid. He turned and offered it. His eyes locked on hers.

Her trembling, slender fingers brushed over the top, tracing the outlines of the flower and smiling at the silky texture of the varnished wood. She watched T'Kal questioningly as she took the box between both hands. At his encouraging nod, Lyrr flushed with anticipation and slowly pulled up the lid. Its hinges creaked until it was fully opened. Lyrr's smile broadened at the object cradled within, and her eyes again returned to T'Kal's.

Inside the box was a slender bracelet. Simple in Bajoran design, it was of a twisted vine and intricate leaves that were linked so that it lay close to the wrist when clasped. It was a Friendship Bracelet, a Bajoran tradition, the first of a set of two - the second would be the Betrothal Bracelet, if a relationship grew that far. It was matched to the family heirloom that Benedict still kept in his quarters.

He smiled as she looked up at him. "May I put it on you?" he asked softly.

Lyrr's mouth worked soundlessly, her eyes never leaving the bracelet. It was exquisite, yet simple, and all at once frightful. How long would he wait before offering her the next? A gentle laugh rippled from Lyrr's lips, and her head nodded emphatically as she held out her right arm. "I think I'd really like wearing it, Ben," she whispered. "Really very much."

He grinned. Taking it carefully from the box he clasped it to her wrist. He sealed it with a kiss, as was tradition, and looked back up at her shining eyes. He stepped into her embrace and kissed her properly, lingering until he broke the kiss with a soft chuckle. "It suits you...just like the dress. You look beautiful, Tayla...and now, we eat." He waved a hand at the cart and the self heating dishes covering the food. "Sikara was delighted to cook for us. I told him that you particularly enjoyed the Hasperat."

He pulled out her chair.

"Now he'll be under the impression I've accepted his presence aboard this vessel." She smiled and accepted the seat, and watched Ben move to his own. She spared a moment to trace the weaving pattern of the bracelet, and gazed up again at Ben with a chuckle. "How long have you been waiting to give me this?" she asked curiously. "Or was it a last minute gift?"

Benedict grinned as he sat, lifting the lid on the steaming Hasperat. Two serves, hers was particularly hot. "I bought the dress on Bajor. The bracelet I picked up on DS9 just before we left. I had it made for you in my family design." He gazed across the table at her. "This is a special occasion, I didn't plan on giving it to you for a while yet...but I felt it was the right time."

He passed over the dishes, and set out the greens and the steamed wild rice. As she set about filling her plate he poured the wine that had been 'breathing.' Lifting his glass he held it for a toast. "To love, duty and honour," he said with a smile.

She tilted her glass into his and repeated the toast. After a dainty sip, Lyrr smiled over the rim of the glass, studying T'Kal with curious amusement. He simply kept surprising her, and she wondered what else he had up his sleeve for the future. She chuckled and set the goblet down in exchange for her utensils. "So...is every evening going to be this elaborate?"

"No...." He began to serve himself. "But this is our first dinner together officially, so it warrants it. I guess we'll be settling down to something resembling normal...late suppers, rushed dinners, no lunches and passing in the doorway between conflicting shifts." He gave her a grin. "Any opportunity to have dinner with you will be gladly accepted. You're busier than I am...more command responsibilities for a start."

"Hardly," Lyrr answered with a smirk. "My only responsibility seems to be making sure the rumours on this vessel subside." She sighed, and cut into her Hasperat as she settled into her grievances. "You see, I was dropping by the lounge the other day...."

As she spoke, Ben began eating, the food was delicious and he ate with gusto - he hadn't eaten since the day before. Between mouthfuls he started talking about the away mission, and Lyrr listened as he related what he had seen. By the time they finished dessert, he had spent most of the time holding her hand across the table.

"And she said something like well it hasn't detonated anything." He shook his head. Working with Xayella Tagliesh had been maddening. "Honestly, I don't know how the hell she kept the senior science position. If she continues like that with the crew, or her own department, people will think she retains the position because she's the captain's woman." He sat back and sipped his wine. Most of the bottle was gone now.

Lyrr grinned after draining the entirety of her glass. "I only wonder what they'll begin saying about us. There has already been speculation that I got that promotion for you."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "I've been a Lieutenant for five years, chief of security three times on three ships, I've earned it." He noted her smile and he shook his head. "They'll talk about anything. Tagliesh asked me about us," he said as he finished his wine. "She said something about me seeking to aggrandize my position by being with you. She ought to know better and I put her straight." He frowned. "Just ignore everything. Gossip serves only itself. Although I'm beginning to hear whispers about Tagliesh...and Zareb. One of my crewmen saw them together in the lounge holding hands of all things. That is reliable. Salinger doesn't know and how the hell do you say anything, even if he does deserve to know that talk is around about his girl and someone else? It's going to be trouble."

He sat forward and looked her in the eyes. "I'll probably be the subject of some gossip too. I've had dinner with Ensign Lektar - that was before that night," he said, they both knew what that meant. "She invited me, and it was social, and in public ... and she's starting to become a friend." He smiled and shrugged. "She knows about us, though she flirts pretty heavily. She was in the lounge last night when I was playing. So pretty soon I expect we'll be the next topic of hot gossip."

Lyrr's mind ceased processing anything after 'dinner', which she latched onto stubbornly. Her smile was taut as she said, "Dinner with Ensign Lektar?" Lyrr nodded slowly and cleared her throat as she sat back in her chair. Both bare arms folded tightly beneath her bosom. "So...this dinner.... You said she's starting to become a friend. Does that mean there were other plans for her during that dinner date?"

He laughed softly. "No," he said simply. He didn't want to mention that he had been attracted to her - and still was, but that was only physical. He'd not consider acting upon it. "She came to me to ask if she could wear her blade the same way I do, and we talked about her culture. She invited me to dinner after that - just a friendly conversation. I made her totally aware that I'm in an exclusive relationship - so don't look at me like that!" He grinned. "Do you think I'd do that to you?" He'd asked that same question of himself that evening and had been able to answer confidently in the negative.

Lyrr grinned. "Not now...but we weren't at this point a few days ago. Who knows what you were capable of then."

"I was still in love with you before then, Lyrr Tayla, and you know it! You don't need to be jealous - not for me." He sat back and shrugged. "Though she is tempting...." He held her eyes, obviously teasing. "But my heart is yours," he grinned. At least he'd told her the truth; Shirik Lektar was tempting, but that was far removed from the emotional commitment he held for the woman sitting in front of him.

"Okay," she answered slowly, sighing. "I just...I know I'm difficult to deal with - the lies, the distance, and I'm probably more reserved than many of the available women aboard this vessel..." Lyrr shrugged and idly traced the rim of her glass with one finger. "Don't you sometimes wish you could be with someone who doesn't carry such emotional and mental baggage? Wouldn't it be easier?"

"Easier," he nodded. "But less interesting." He reached over and took her hand, the one with the bracelet. "It's the heat of the forge that makes a stronger steel," he said, looking into her eyes. "We'll work through what ever we have to. It's hard." He grinned. "Sometimes very hard," he laughed. "But we are who we are - and I love you."

Lyrr chuckled and laced her fingers with his. "Oh, I know all about hard. You did leave me requiring a cold shower this morning, after all." She leaned in towards him, narrowing her eyes with playful menace. "You're trying to discover my breaking point, aren't you? Is sex that important, Benedict T'Kal?"

"No. You have a problem and we'll work through it. I desire you. You desire me. There's a problem in between that we have to solve. It's that simple. I want to make love to you, Tayla - and I want for you to be able to express your feelings honestly with me. There's no more lies between us - and I hope there's no more left to discover."

Smiling ruefully, Lyrr murmured, "There are always more..." Clearing her throat, she sat up more rigidly and stated, "You don't know everything, Ben. There's still so much I haven't told you - haven't been ready to tell you. I just haven't found the courage to."

"You can tell me anything," he said easily. "You should know that. You can trust me. It will come in time, I'm patient." He gave her an understanding smile. "When the time is right, you'll tell me. How bad can it be?"

Lyrr laughed weakly. "After all you've learned about me, how can you ask that?" She sighed and extricated her hand from his to drain the last of the wine into her goblet. Lyrr tossed it back in a single gulp. "I'm tired of talking about the past," she said wearily. "It's pointless."

He watched her, knowing that she was giving off the signs that said she really wanted to avoid the subject. He nodded. Standing, he walked around the table and took her hand, lifting her to her feet.

"Computer, Music tracks T'Kal One," he said at the ceiling. He had prepared a selection for the evening. Music started; a piano piece. "Dance with me," he said softly. "Forget the past for now." He took her in his arms and kissed her neck softly. "There's just the two of us. Don't worry about anything else."

She took in a quick breath to settle her racing heart and automatically looped her arms around his neck. "I always worry," she told him, easing into the slow-paced dance. "I have to worry, Ben. It keeps me on top of things."

He laughed. "You're very good at being on top of things..." he murmured in her ear.

---

"Of Mice & Ferengi"
by Ensign Marp, Flight Control Officer
and Ensign Roades Mouazer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.15 00h15

***

Marp yawned as he made his way to his quarters. It had been a long day, however, it had ended really well after meeting the Head Chef. "It was very good snail juice," thought Marp as he entered his quarters. He stopped and looked around. The lights were on and it appeared that someone else had moved in. He took a second look around to make sure he was in the right place.

"Hello," he called out.

Mouse looked up as he heard a voice call out to him in the room. Must be my room-mate, well here goes nothing. Standing, Mouse put the two books on his bookshelf, sunglasses sliding down on his face in the process. Moving the box off to the side Mouse pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead and waved hello to the Ferengi who had walked inside. "Hiya! Sorry for dropping in unexpectedly, but I had to get my things moved out of my old Quarters and into my new Quarters ASAP." Standing, he offered his hand to Marp in greeting. "I'm Mouse, I'm your new roomie."

Marp paused for a second and then took his hand and gave it a shake. "Hi, Mouse. I am Marp, I was not expecting a roommate today." Marp smiled at Mouse. "Did you say that you had to get out of your last quarters ASAP?"

Releasing Marp's hand Mouse smiled. "Nice to meet you, Marp." He scratched the back of his head as Marp asked him his reasons for having to relocate so quickly. "Well..." Mouse stated, accentuating the L's for emphasis. "To make a long story short, me and my previous room mate had several misunderstandings that led me to believe that it would not be wise for me to be sharing the room with her."

"Her," thought Marp. "Ah, say no more. You were rooming with a feeemale." Marp had found that one needed to tread carefully when dealing with human females. "I understand." He looked around the room. "I see you are getting settled in. Do you need help with anything?"

Smiling, Mouse clapped Marp lightly on the shoulder. "I like you already, could you help me carry these boxes over there, please? I'd like to finish unpacking so that way I won't have to worry about digging through a random box in the morning just to fish out my shaving kit."

"Sure thing, Mouse." Marp got up and hefted once of Mouse's boxes. Marp thought that is was pretty heavy. "This is a heavy one." Marp carried it over to where Mouse had indicated. "What's in here anyway...latinum bars?"

Taking the box from Marp he shook his head 'no.' "No, no, no it's not Latinum bars, books and literary works. Mostly stuff from the 20th Century. Interesting reading I assure you," he replied with a smile.

"Those are real books?" Marp wondered how much they might be worth If they were really real books from the 20th Century he could probably find a collector that would pay a great deal for them. Marp made a mental note to get a closer look at those books.

"You betcha. Amazing that such things still exist in this day and age, huh?" Mouse remarked, laughing. "You're more than welcome to look at them if you like." Kneeling next to the box Mouse began to sift through the contents as he pulled the books out and began to place them inside his small bookcase. Reaching inside he pulled out one of the books and held it out for Marp to look at. "Here, be my guest."

Marp took the book and examined the pages closely. The book looked and smelled old. "Interesting... Do you know what this one is about?"

"It's called "Timescape" by an author named Gregory Benford. It's about these scientists who try to send a warning back in time about the end of the world."

"Interesting," said Marp. He wondered just what he would change if he went back in time. "Mind if I read this?"

"Sure go right ahead, I've read that one fourteen times already." Mouse stood and stretched.

"Well I don't know about you, but I think going to and head down to the Messhall for a later dinner. See you round, okay, Marp?"

"Yes, nice meeting you, Mouse," said Marp sitting down at his desk. "Have a good dinner." Marp watched as Mouse left.

---

"After Dinner Conversation, Part Two"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 00h45

***

Lyrr's cheeks flushed and her smile was demure. "Since I don't know any better," she answered, "I'm inclined to think that was far more suggestive a statement than it seems to be." Pulling back slightly, she regarded him reprovingly. "Highly inappropriate," she teased.

"But highly accurate," he surmised. He kissed her for a moment and then, laughingly, he dipped her. "You look marvelous, you know," he said as he brought her back up. "You should wear a dress more often. I might have a word with Farrell and see if he can do something about that."

"Don't you dare!" She chuckled as he spun her out, then pulled her in again to his chest. He was greeted with a tender kiss upon her return. "I'm wearing this dress tonight because it was a gift," she told him. "I just...I feel almost vulnerable like this. I guess I'm just not ready to become fully a woman yet," she explained with a smile.

"Prophets, a dress doesn't make you a woman - and you're more than enough woman for me." He kissed her, biting softly on her lower lip. He laughed and spun her around; she was light. "You shouldn't feel vulnerable, Love, not in that. I guarantee you'd stop hearts if you walked through the corridors of the Sulu right now."

She grinned, leaning in to brush his lips again. "I thought your heart was the only one I could ever want? Or are we sharing now?" Mischievously, she added, "Reconsidering your friendship with Ensign Lektar? Hm?"

"I don't share," he said with a hint of playful irritation.

"Good." Narrowing her eyes at him and smiling impishly, she whispered, "Neither do I. You'd be wise to remember that the next time you entertain offers for romantic dinners alone with other women."

"We weren't alone!" he said seriously. "But I'll take that under advisement," he added with a grin. "Does self defense lessons count? I promised to give her some pointers..."

Lyrr smiled skeptically. "Isn't that how we started out, Ben? I really think I ought to meet this Lektar, especially if she's to become your best friend."

He laughed. "She's not my best friend - actually Arthas is shaping up to be a good friend," he said as he pulled her closer. "And I think you ought to meet her too. Maybe next time I'm playing guitar in the Lounge...."

"Interesting...." Lyrr shrugged and watched her fingers lazily twining T'Kal's hair. "I'll meet her if that's what you want, though I probably won't like her." She smiled sweetly. "Oh, I think I'm going to enjoy this."

"Then maybe you shouldn't," he smiled. "I'd hate for an ensign's career to take a nosedive because she smiled at me...and before you ask, no, I have not taught her how to use chopsticks." He gazed at her with a mischievous smile. "Somehow I think putting the two of you in the same room is going to be trouble. That smile of yours.... You really are an evil woman, aren't you?" He playfully slapped her rear as he laughed.

She gasped and started into him, then attempted an indignant frown that came across only as a grin. "There'd better not be any chopsticks," she warned him, while her hand snaked down between them. "Now, I know I may not be experienced or familiar with male anatomy, but I hear there's a certain area of a man's body that is particularly sensitive to torture. So, Mr. T'Kal, if I were you" --she grinned slyly and clenched her hand, hidden between his legs, into a fist-- "I'd leave the chopsticks at home when playing with your friends." Lyrr raised a single eyebrow. "Hm?"

"That hurts...." He smiled down at her. "Don't play rough with your toys."

Lyrr chuckled and relinquished her hold, only after a single, firm squeeze. His body relaxed immediately in response. "It was just incentive not to be too friendly with Lektar, or any other appealing woman aboard this vessel." Placing a finger over his lips halted any reiteration of his previous assurances, and allowed Lyrr to whisper, "I trust you. Don't worry." She brought her lips to his ear and added, "I'm just in a playful mood," then gently nipped at his earlobe.

As her breath and lips touched his ear he almost melted. The sensation was acute, and spine tingling and he couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips. She'd unerringly found another of his 'buttons.' His reaction was unmistakable.

Lyrr grinned and watched T'Kal sidelong, namely the lazy smile he wore. She chuckled against his ear, whispering, "No comment?" Her lips closed around his earlobe again, and she clearly felt his body shiver. It was an indication to continue, and she did with her full attention on that single ear that seemed to evoke such a powerful reaction in T'Kal. Lyrr smiled as she worked at the soft, delicate flesh, grazing it with her teeth as she teased it and tugged gently; he seemed to catch his breath with each pull.

"Prophets..." his breath whispered as he closed his eyes. She was turning his insides to mush and making every nerve in his body sing all at once. He had to hold on to her or he felt that his knees would buckle. He groaned and turned his head slightly to allow her to continue. The sensation was delicious, the centre of the pagh, the place where Bajorans sensed the strength of spirit was electric. He was trembling; she had such a power over him.

"I know your secret now," she whispered, her warm breath falling against his ear and eliciting another shudder of delight. "That could be dangerous." Chuckling softly, Lyrr resumed, smoothing her hands over his strong back to keep him steady.

"Not fair..." he whispered. His whole body was tingling and she was arousing him badly and it would only lead to trouble. "Please...don't. Tayla...." He sighed and shuddered as her teeth grazed his skin and he pulled her against his body, unable to forgo the pleasure she was causing. His hands roamed the expanse of her bare back, one hand dropping to smooth a palm across the velvet material covering her rear.

She laughed huskily, her fingers clenching the fabric of his shirt as their bodies interlocked and she detected the physical reaction to her attentions. "Begging now, are we?" she whispered. Her lips brushed his cheek, then returned to his earlobe. "I never thought I'd hear you beg. Should I stop?" But instead of doing so, she continued.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. "You know...what...will...." He sighed and groaned at the same time. "Please, Tay...." He closed his eyes, the sensations too overwhelming.

She sighed and dropped her forehead onto his shoulder, taking a moment to admonish her own lack of self-restraint. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's...the wine or something...." Clearing her throat, she pulled away and stood far enough away that no part of their bodies could touch. Ben's breathing was still coming heavily, and his dark pupils nearly obscuring the violet colour of his eyes evidenced her effect on him. She lowered her head in shame and hugged both naked arms around herself for comfort. "I won't do it again," she said quietly. "I promise."

He chuckled deep in his throat and he stepped close to her, lifting her chin with his hand. He smiled down into her face and kissed her softly. "Don't make promises I never want you to keep," he said with a smile. "Prophets...." He laughed softly as he regained more of his composure. "You know how to make me beg, woman...and I love it." He kissed her again, a light soft kiss that said he loved her. He took her hand and drew her to the sofa. Sitting in one corner, he drew her down so that she rested back against him, her hair a sweet fragrance against his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her.

He ran a hand down her arm and touched the bracelet he had given her. "You really like it?" he asked softly against her ear.

She nodded lightly and brushed her fingers against his. "It's great," she whispered, nestling her head into the curve of his neck. "I-I can't wear it on duty...but when I'm off, I'll put it on." Smiling up at him, she asked, "Will you wear my knife? Just use it in place of your usual blade."

He chuckled. "It's not a real fighting weapon." He stroked her arm, fingers trailing against her smooth skin. "I'll wear it though - no one will see it - as per regulations." He kissed her hair on the top of her head. "You could wear the bracelet under your uniform."

She grinned. "I could... But if someone asks where it came from, whatever will I say?"

"Love...I think it's long past time for pretence. Everyone knows about us." He stroked her face and hair. She was warm against him, and they fitted so well together. He held her gently. "I can't hide how I feel about you. I'm sure they'll all assume it was I who gave it to you." He chuckled. "Unless you have a secret friend you haven't told me about."

"No," she laughed, "that's you, Ben. I'm completely loyal." Still shaking gently with laughter, Lyrr shifted onto her side and curled up comfortably against the length of Ben's torso. Sighing, she nuzzled her lips to his throat, delivering warm kisses to it. "I could get used to doing this every night," she mused.

"I am used to doing this," he said, running his fingers through her fine dark hair. "I'm on Gamma Bridge duty tomorrow...so I'll not see you until I relieve you on the Bridge." He talked in a near whisper. The music still played, a soft piano concerto as a backdrop to their conversation.

"Not much time," she murmured. Her mind raced with panic, but she remained otherwise calm, except for the hand gripping the front of Ben's shirt. "I have to sleep alone?" she whispered.

"Tomorrow night, Love," he reassured her. "Not tonight." He could feel her heart racing against his chest. "You'll be alright," he murmured as he held her. He felt comfortable with her warm body curled against him. He was getting used to sleeping with her now. It had been a very long time - even before Tebrianne that he'd slept regularly with someone. He hadn't shared quarters with anyone. This was a first for him, and he was amazed how easy it had been to consider this step and then to act upon it. He wanted her company, and he didn't relish the thought of sleeping alone either.

"I'll sleep through Beta shift tomorrow," he said. "I'll work Gamma and then Alpha. It's only one night," he whispered.

"One night," she echoed, then chuckled dryly. "I might as well work Gamma with you, because I certainly won't be getting any sleep. The bad dreams are gone...but if you're not there, they'll come back." Lyrr pressed her lips thinly and shook her head firmly. "I won't let that happen. I'll stay up all night if I have to, but I'm not closing my eyes so that bastard can haunt me again."

He was concerned that she was so much dependant upon him. "Did you dream about him every night?" he asked. "Before we started sharing a bed? Or are you just afraid that you will dream about him because I'm not here?" His arms held her a little tighter. Her face was pressed against his cheek and he could feel her eye lashes tickling his cheek as she blinked.

"He's always there," she admitted. "The image isn't always so powerful or frightening...but there are just some times when it's almost as if it's real. Those are the times when I fear being alone." Lyrr sighed and managed a smile for Ben. "But, who knows? Maybe he's gone for good and I'll never know until I see for myself. Right?"

"I truly wish that you would talk about this with a counsellor," he reflected. "There are some hypnotic techniques that can take that away. I know, I went through it. There was a time after Alayessa died.... After I'd left the Maquis and was on Bajor. I dreamed about her death for a long time. It haunted me. I sought help, because I realized that I needed it. I have never regretted that decision. I wish that you would consider it." He stroked her hair and cheek softly, his voice a soft crooning.

"I don't want to," she sighed, closing her eyes under his calming touch. "I've gone this long without doing so...there's no need to start now. Besides...I have you, don't I?" Lyrr smiled reassuringly as she shifted onto her stomach. Laying against T'Kal's upper body, she folded both arms over his chest and rested her chin on them so that her gaze was fully on his. "I'm fine... really. Sure, there are dreams...but they're just dreams. I know he's not real anymore. So...no worries."

His gaze remained on her as he combed her hair with his fingers. "Even if I see a need?" he asked gently. "If our roles were reversed, Tayla, I would be willing to do anything to make our relationship work. This dream stands between us. Don't you want to get rid of it?" He smiled a little sadly. "Sometimes you have to rely on what others see, Love. It affects you more than just a dream. Tell me...what did happen to him? Is he still alive?"

"I don't know," she muttered, diverting her gaze to the clasp of his shirt at his throat. She fidgeted with the silver metal distractedly, attempting to pass off the lines furrowing her brow as pensive instead of distressed. "After I was rescued...I never saw him again." It was a lie, something she'd promised never to tell him again, but it was necessary.

She was laying on his chest with her eyes so close that when she answered he knew it for what it was. She couldn't look him in the eye. Her pupils contracted as she looked away, her heart rate increased - he could feel it against his chest - and she fidgeted. Evasive. It was a lie.

He laid his head back and looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to look into her eyes. So, she had seen him afterward. He remained silent. His hands no longer stroking her hair, they relaxed by his side. He let out a calming breath and for a moment closed his eyes. Only the music played, a soft melody. He felt sad that she could so easily break her word to him. Did he mean nothing?

"It's late," she whispered after the piece had ended and heavy silence pervaded the room. Lyrr pushed up onto her knees and sat back on her haunches between T'Kal's legs, watching him tentatively. "You coming to bed?"

"I have an away team report to file," he replied. He looked at her and gave her a smile that he didn't feel. "I won't be too long."

Lyrr nodded slowly and, detecting the sudden darkness that had descended upon their evening, stepped off the couch without a playful protest or a seductive caress meant to lure him into bed with her. "Well..." She glanced about the room awkwardly, then smiled tightly. "I'll clean up while you finish up those reports. So...see you soon?"

"Leave it, I'll take care of it," he said a little distractedly. He sat up and wiped his hands over his face. It felt awkward all of a sudden. Standing he looked at her, he couldn't let it stand between them. He looked her in the eyes, hoping that she would say something else, make it better.... He didn't want to call her on it but he didn't want.... He just shook his head, looking away.

"What?" she asked gently, hesitating to place a hand on his shoulder. He refused to face her, and she was glad; it was easier to remain resolute in her choice to conceal the truth, one that would do more damage than good if revealed. "You can finish those reports tomorrow," she whispered. "Come to bed with me, Ben."

He turned to look at her, for a moment just holding her gaze. It wasn't worth losing her over. He had an urge to just walk out and go back to his own quarters, but he couldn't. Looking her in the face, he knew that she needed him. He couldn't walk out on her, no matter how many times she lied. He would know the truth soon enough - she was just stalling. She wouldn't be able to keep it up in the face of knowing that he knew. He reached out and took her hand, the one with the bracelet. The contact renewed his feelings for her and he nodded. "Alright..." was all he said as he looked up into her eyes.

She smiled, expressing relief and joy, and confidence that he wouldn't pressure her to speak of things better left to exist only in her nightmares. Chuckling softly, she embraced him, again brushing her lips against his ear. "We can have dessert in bed," she whispered, then pulled back and offered him a suggestive grin. "We'll bring the last bottle of wine, too."

"I think that would be a bad idea," he said as his arms went around her. "There's only so much a guy can take," he said as he looked into her eyes. "You know how much I want you...and I don't think you're ready for that. Do you?" he asked her, searching her eyes.

Lyrr sighed and relented with a nod. "Okay...so no wine, and we keep our clothing on." She grinned and began backing away, pulling T'Kal along. "And you keep your hands to yourself."

"I'm not sleeping in clothes," he said seriously. He looked her up and down, she looked great. "I don't want to ruin that dress either...." He followed her. "Maybe we can make out a little bit." He grinned.

She chuckled and agreed with a single, decisive nod. As they passed the table, she reached out and plucked the single wine bottle from its bucket, then hid it behind her back. "Just in case we get thirsty," she explained with an innocent shrug, then laughed and fled for the bedroom.

---

"Revelations, Part Three"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 01h20

***

He shook his head and sighed. They shared a bed now. He couldn't just 'go home' when this was home. He followed her, knowing that both had had too much to drink already, and her mischievous smile would be there...and little else.

When he caught up with her she was kneeling on the bed, holding the bottle of wine. He smiled at her and unclasped his shirt as he walked to the bed. Dropping it as he stood before her, he knelt and slipped his arms around her slim waist, drawing her down to kiss him. Her lips tasted of wine and once again he was drawn into her embrace.

Lyrr laughed softly and turned her lips away from his; he simply transferred his kisses to her cheek and throat. "I guess this means you're not thirsty," she noted. His hands were drawn up her sides, brushing over the swell of her breasts peeking out from beneath the open portion of her dress. Lyrr grinned. "Oh," she whispered, "I see now. You're just trying to get me out of this dress, hm?"

He chuckled, hands unclasping the collar at her neck. The dress fell away and bunched around her hips. His kisses remained at her throat, as his arms went around her, holding her warm body against him. He kissed her shoulder, tracing the contours of her collar bone and then tracing the first of her scars with his lips. Oresh had scarred her body but he'd also scarred her mind. The thoughts of the Cardassian brought a deep rage in Benedict. A coldly calculating rage. He wanted to erase the memory of the creature that had done this to his woman. As he moved across her chest she sighed, her fingers lacing through his long raven hair. He wished he had Teb's talent. A mind meld would have worked. His lips trembled as he kissed her, the tears welling in his eyes.

He'd been angry at her - when it wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She'd been hurt, he couldn't see her come to any further hurt. He was the first man she had ever opened up to - the first one she felt anything for and acted upon it. How could he hurt her even more by turning away from her problems? He couldn't. His tears fell upon her skin and he kissed them away, holding her tightly and burying his face in her chest.

He wasn't fast enough in removing the tears to prevent their moist warmth from being perceived by the sensitive flesh of her bosom. She sighed and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, stroking the back of his hair with one hand. "Ben..." she whispered soothingly. Her voice trembled and the sight of his grief brought tears to her own eyes. "Please," she begged softly. "Don't be sad. There's no need."

"I won't hurt you," he said thickly. "I'll never hurt you." He looked up at her, his eyes intense violet with the tears. He kissed her, and held her, "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.

Lyrr smiled gently and passed her lips over his broad shoulder to confer security and comfort. "You're apologizing, yet you've done nothing wrong," she whispered. "Why are you weeping?"

"For making you lie to me," he whispered. "It's not your fault. None of this is." He held her tightly as if she would run away, his face still in her hair. He inhaled the scent of her, a light perfume that was enticing and fresh. "He hurt you.... I just want to take it all away." He drew back to look in her eyes and placed a palm against her cheek. "Don't be ashamed of something that can't be your fault," he said softly. "You were so young, you didn't know any better. I'll try...and not ask questions. Okay?"

Lyrr closed her eyes in hidden shame and leaned her forehead against T'Kal's. The past was meant only to bring herself pain, not others who had no hand in causing her harm. She felt the tears of guilt and remorse seeping from her clenched eyelids and her mouth working with words she never thought she'd speak. "Ask them. Ask, and I'll answer. Anything you want, Ben. Anything."

"No," he said softly, wiping her tears away. "I'm not going to ask. If you want to tell me you will, but I don't know what to ask. You'll have to tell me. Start from the beginning, Love. That's always a good place to start." He stood up and sat on the bed, holding her and lay back, shoulders on the pillows so that she was nestled in the crook of his arm. It was easier if she didn't have to look at him, and he idly stroked the bare skin of her shoulder, waiting for her to begin.

Lyrr sighed, and stared up wide-eyed at the ceiling, at once fearful and certain about what was required of her. She owed it to Ben to divulge her secrets, but it remained to be seen if she could actually bring herself to do it. Slow, deep breaths helped bolster her courage, and clumsily upending the bottle of wine for a quick gulp did as well, but in the end, she was still so nervous she trembled. "I'm afraid of what you'll think," she whispered. "I hated him...but I didn't always act like it." She groaned and covered her eyes with one hand, but slid it away with a gasp as Oresh's smile appeared; it was for her, it always had been, and she recalled distinctly smiling back. "Prophets," she sobbed. "I don't know what came over me. It had been so long...I couldn't think straight."

He brushed her cheek with a thumb, feeling the trembling in her body, and he kissed the top of her head. "What happened?" he asked softly, his arm covered her back almost protectively, his voice a whisper of reassurance. He could guess what she was going to say, that she'd seen him again - and had been happy to see him. It was a common enough reaction among prisoners that had been psychologically re-trained. Benedict had a seen Bajoran woman weep for mercy to protect a Cardassian slaver. It hadn't saved the Cardassian then. He remembered how he felt upon looking at her. Right here and now in Lyrr's arms he felt ashamed. He hadn't known then. He knew differently now.

"They rescued me," she whispered, seeing the past in the shadows splashed across the ceiling. "I-I fought them at first...the Bajorans who came..." She sobbed and closed her eyes against the flashes of blinding disruptor fire exploding in her mind, and the Bajorans who fell because of her hesitation. "I called to him. I begged him to hold on...not to let me go. The Bajorans...they were the enemies." Lyrr shuddered and squeezed T'Kal's waist tightly. "I screamed and kicked...but they dragged me away with them, and by the Prophets did I hate them for it," she rasped. "I actually pined for the bastard after that, wept in the middle of the night, and ached for his touch...."

Her voice failed her and Lyrr found that she had buried her face against T'Kal's chest in shame. "I escaped the camp the resistance fighters took me to...and I...." She shook with silent tears, and they seemed to singe her flesh angrily. "Forgive me, Ben," she whispered thickly. "Prophets...I ran as fast I could for days, without food, or water, or protection...and I went to him." Lyrr's teeth clenched and both hands balled up into fists at the memory. "I went to him," she seethed, "and he'd already found a replacement. I-I was nothing to him...nothing...."

He kept on stroking her hair, his voice calm. "What did you do?" he asked quietly. He kissed her hair again, softly and lightly caressed her back, feeling calmer than he thought he would. He knew there had to be more. There always was. That she had gone back to him was chilling, but he wondered whether she was more angry at herself for doing that, or with the Cardassian for spurning her affections.

"I-I ran!" she exclaimed. "I turned...and I ran..." Her voice quavered and she choked on a sob as she whispered, "And he laughed. Ben...he laughed at me while I thought my heart was breaking. Why would he do that?"

"He was Cardassian," he said gently. That was reason enough. The way she asked him why made his blood run cold. She had no idea why the Cardassian would do that to her? "What he did to you was for his amusement. It wasn't because he loved you. He just enjoyed making a slave of you, only he enslaved your heart, Tayla. There were plenty like him." His memories of the Occupation and the bitter struggle were still fresh. "I killed many of them," he said softly. "This one was no different to those I killed. You have to face the fact that he used you - abused you, and made you into something only he wanted. He made a mockery of your affections. He turned you against your people, your culture and any normal relationship with a real man. But that is all in the past, Love. It doesn't have to affect your future. What he did was cruel beyond imagination. He would have used you later - if you hadn't been rescued. He would have used you as an agent for the Cardassians. They did that, you know. You weren't the only one, Tayla. There were many like you."

"They weren't like me!" she hollered, throwing herself upright and glaring at T'Kal with a mixture of confusion and anguish. "I would've betrayed my own kind for him, for his love! Do you know how disgusted that makes me feel? And do you blame me for not wanting anyone to know this?" Lyrr's eyes washed over with tears and again she quivered with quiet sobs. "Why did you make me tell you?" she whispered. "How can you look at me now without feeling revulsion?"

He smiled; it was an easy smile that told her more than anything that he didn't think that at all. He reached out and cupped her chin, staring her in the eyes. "I love you, Lyrr Tayla, that won't change because of what you have told me. How can it? You aren't that fifteen year old girl anymore. You're a Starfleet Officer. A Commander and First Officer of the Hikaru Sulu." He sat up and took her face between his hands, speaking close, holding her so that she couldn't look away. "You'd die rather than let that happen to you again. You were young. You've been torturing yourself over something that no-one would blame you for. We all did things we're ashamed of. It was war. War is a tragedy - and there are many kinds of casualty. What you did was understandable. Believe me when I tell you that you weren't alone. There were other girls like you." His expression turned anguished. "Some were killed by the Resistance, some fought us, some killed themselves out of shame. What was shame back then is nothing now. None of it matters anymore. It's dead. Gone...." He looked into her eyes and slowly kissed her, lovingly and meaning it with all his heart.

Lyrr allowed herself to surrender to Ben's love, his acceptance of her torrid past, but with a sudden gasp, she pulled back and stared at him with distress and wild confusion. "I shouldn't be forgiven or consoled," she whispered, tears dribbling onto her trembling lips. "My parents...they sacrificed everything for me...and I betrayed them. I...I allied myself with the people they fought to protect me from...." Lyrr shook her head slowly. "I'm a monster," she whispered.

"Prophets...." He turned her chin back to look at him. "You were a girl who was twisted by a Cardassian that knew exactly what he was doing. That was a long time ago, Love. You're no monster...and you are forgiven! Let it go, Love! You have to. You weren't rational when you made those choices. He did things to you that programmed you! Don't you get it? It wasn't your will at all. It was his! It's why you still see him. He used programming techniques on you! Until you did what he wanted without question." Benedict put his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace, holding her and gently rocking. His own tears were hot on his cheeks. His hatred for the Cardassian burned hot in the pit of his belly. He'd defiled her - used her and tormented her until the innocence of the young Bajoran girl was lost forever. It was ruthless and barbaric and intimately Cardassian.

"But why," she breathed, now clutching his back securely. "How could-- But I thought I-I loved him... It was so real, Ben...I was so devoted... How could that have been a lie?"

"It wasn't a lie, Love," he crooned in her ear. He hated saying the words, but he knew that it was best for her. The thought of her loving a Cardassian was sickening. The thought of a Cardassian kissing her lips, touching her, using her...he had to lay it aside. He couldn't give in to the urge he felt in the pit of his stomach. He was struggling to keep his voice soft and his hands from shaking. It had nothing to do with his feelings for Lyrr Tayla, and everything to do with a lifetime of cultural bias and racial hatred of Cardassians and those who sympathised with them. She hadn't sympathised! She'd been ruined. "If you do it right, you can make anyone believe anything," he said thickly. He kissed her head softly, stroking her shoulders. They had done similar things to Alayessa he reminded himself. The Klingon woman was simply old enough to know it for what it was and channel her hatred into butchery. Benedict had loved her with just as much passion. "You were a girl who didn't know any better," he said, outwardly calm. "He was your first wasn't he?...and you're last. Do you love me?" he asked softly into her hair. Prophets help me, he asked in his mind. His faith in them was still strong.

The breath she sucked in was unsteady and thick with tears. Ben felt her warm lips settle against his shoulder as she hung her head forward, and her hold perceptibly tightened. "I'm afraid," was her reply. "I'm afraid to think that what I felt for him is what I feel for you.... I don't want it to be, Ben...but it just...it feels so similar right now. I don't want to call it 'love.' I refuse to admit that what I experienced with Oresh was that. Please don't make me do it...."

"The feeling may seem the same," he whispered. His eyes were closed, and he spoke from a part of his mind that was separate from his gut reaction. "But it's not. He was the monster, we are different - and you have to sort out how you feel - whether you can tell the difference between Oresh and Benedict. He hurt you and placed those feelings inside of you. I will never do that. What we have between us is because I love you and I will do anything to protect you. He didn't return your feelings. He never would or could have loved you. It's okay to have misplaced feelings that seem like love - they weren't. When you know you love me - you will know the difference, Tayla. It's a healthy love - one that you know is returned. Don't torture yourself about how you felt. Just know that what you feel for me is okay. I didn't make you feel that way - you did that by yourself." With great effort he calmed himself. She needed reassurance from him. How he reacted to her right at this moment in time would determine everything. He was aware of the consequences. If she knew the feelings that he was fighting against, she would never be able to look at him again. The fact that he had fallen in love with her before any of this had come to light was the only thing holding him above his gut instincts. He held to it like a life preserver, steeling himself.

"Well..." She smiled wanly, brushing her lips against his shoulder. "I think, Benedict T'Kal, you may have a little to do with how I feel. But...I need some time to sort things out. It's hard to reassess everything I've believed for fifteen years, and consider that maybe I was wrong.... And there's still so much, Ben. Everything I've told you...it's only the beginning."

"We have all night," he whispered. Prophets could there be any more? His heart was racing, and he looked down at her face as he rolled her over. Her eyes were dark pits, sore from crying and still filled with tears. One look into her face, seeing her quivering lips and the desperate need to be accepted and his heart filled with emotion. In one moment all her past suddenly no longer mattered. Only the vulnerable, and lovable woman in his arms mattered. He gazed into her eyes, his own tears falling onto her cheek and he kissed her tenderly. For a long moment he just held her, without words communicating his feelings.

"You're going to ruin that dress," he said as he fingered the blue velvet crumpled around her waist and legs.

Turning away he climbed off the bed and undressed. Climbing back into the bed this time, he threw back the covers so that she could get in. He watched her shuck out of the dress, hanging it up before coming back to bed. When she climbed in he let her resume the position she'd been in. Propped up against the view port sill he held her in his arms and turned off the lights. In the semi-darkness he enjoyed the closeness of her contact. He remained silent, hoping that she would continue talking, stroking the smooth skin of her back.

She was silent, the only sound in the room that of their steady breathing and her fingers grazing his chest. Finally there was a deep sigh followed by a gentle chuckle. "I could use a cigar right about now," Lyrr mused. "You might not believe it, but they're really good for clearing the mind." Looking up at T'Kal and smiling, she asked, "Want one?"

He laughed softly. "Okay," he replied. "I'll have another glass of wine though. They go well with red wine. I didn't know you smoked cigars." He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "You're full of surprises," he chided her softly. As she sat up he pulled her in for a kiss, a lingering and languid kiss that made his pulse quicken. He let her go and stroked her cheek, grinning.

She shifted onto her side and opened the top drawer of her night table. As she rifled through it, she called up to the Computer and ordered it to deactivate the fire suppressant units. Smiling mischievously, she turned onto her back, laying flat upon the bed, and rested the box on her abdomen. "A little Risan surprise, you could say," she told him, then flipped the lid. Inside were the dozen, individually encapsulated cigars given to her by Ensign Farrell. She imagined he hadn't envisioned the straight-laced security chief indulging in his gift. "I've been smoking since I can remember," she told him while collecting two of the cigars and pulling them free of their glass tubes. "I was a terror when I was younger." She chuckled at the memory, and handed T'Kal his. "You have to smell it first. It adds to the enjoyment."

He laughed. Sitting up and assuming a lotus position, he took the cigar. "I have smoked cigars," he said. "Only occasionally though, usually after a few drinks I get the taste for them." He ran it under his nose, rolling it with his fingertips. "Hmmm nice scents." He reached into the box and helped himself to the small cutter and deftly sliced off the tip. He tossed it onto her chest. She narrowed her eyes at him in jest and flicked the stub away. "I must admit I've never smoked one in bed before." While she was busy with the cutter he ran a fingertip along her side, making her jump slightly at the sensation and bringing a giggle as she was tickled.

"Stop that!" she exclaimed, and playfully swatted his hand. Scowling, but unable to hide a smile, she blindly reached into her drawer and retrieved the lighter she'd replicated upon receipt of Farrell's gift. "You've never smoked in bed before," she repeated while sparking the flame and offering it to him. "What sorts of things did you do with your lovers?" Chuckling, Lyrr clarified, "Other than the obvious...."

He sucked at the flame and rolled the cigar for an even light and took an experimental draw on the flavoured smoke. Exhaling slowly he smiled. "Nice," he commented. He smiled down at her and chuckled. "Well...other than the obvious...." He ran a hand across her flat belly, loving the feel of the baby soft skin. "I can get my guitar," he grinned, "and I can sing to you?" He drew another puff on the cigar and blew the smoke away from her, sliding his hand down her thigh as he spoke. "You have great legs," he said. "I'm very disappointed that you wore that skirt and didn't let me see."

"I had little choice," she told him with a slow smile. "And besides, you seemed averse to the idea of Skirt Day. I recall you scoffing at the idea of wearing a skirt...." Lyrr shrugged as she inhaled a mouthful of smoke, then let it out with a sigh. "I just assumed that extended to everyone on board."

He raised an eyebrow. "I distinctly remember saying I wasn't a girl," he smirked. "You on the other hand...." He leaned over and planted a kiss on her belly button; he thought that it was a very sexy belly button. He looked up her body as she lay against the pillows, giving her a sly grin. He leaned across her, and lay down across the bed, so that her thighs lay under his arm and sucked on the cigar before reaching for the bottle of wine. He took a swig and held it out to her. He could see her dark eyes in the dim light coming through the view port above the bed. "You want to talk some more?" he asked softly, meaning about their previous topic. He traced the contours of her abdomen with his fingers, the muscle under the skin and the softness. He loved the feel of her skin, and in the dim light the discoloration of her scars seemed to shine. He leaned down and softly kissed the hollow of her hip, resting his cheek on her belly as he looked up at her. She was pondering his question.

Lyrr studied the lip of the bottle, while idly stroking T'Kal's hair, and tacitly declined with a shake of her head. "I think I've given Oresh too much thought for one evening. He doesn't deserve it." She smiled wryly and took a pull from the bottle. Dark red liquid dribbled down the sides of her lips and splattered onto her chest. The grin she gave T'Kal, and the pointed glance directed at the wine droplets, were both suggestive. "I think, Ben," she mused, "I'm tired of talking."

---

"Ultimatum, Part Four"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 01h35

***

He raised one brow, knowing full well where this was going. He reached over to the night table and stubbed out the cigar in the ash tray that she had pulled from the drawer and kissed her belly button again with a smile. His lips inched further up her abdomen and he kissed the skin again, trailing his lips upward toward the pool of liquid dribbling down her front. "You know, this is becoming extremely frustrating," he said as he reached and sucked up the droplet of wine that had pooled between her breasts. His lips travelled across her skin to one pointed nipple and he drew it softly into his mouth, rolling his tongue across the hardening flesh and making her draw in a breath with the sensation. He let it go and kissed his way to her lips, tasting wine and the cigar as he kissed away the droplets on her chin. "There is only one real way to get rid of bad memories," he whispered as he kissed her throat and sucked on the soft lobe of her ear. His hand grazed her skin, languidly cupping a full breast.

Lyrr nodded slowly, threading her fingers through his hair. "Oh?" she asked shakily. "And what would that be?"

"Replace them," he whispered in her ear as he grazed his teeth across her lobe and sucked on it again, "with new ones." His hand travelled down her body to her hip and pulled her closer as he lay beside her. Her whole body made contact with his and he pulled her into him, so that his leg slid between hers. His mouth found the nape of her neck, biting gently and caressing the pulsing jugular with a sweet suction that elicited a moan from her parted lips.

"I don't want to rush this," she sighed, though she made no attempts to shy away from his caresses. Stroking his back lightly, down to the curve of his rear, Lyrr draped one leg around his waist and twined it with his. "I know I push" -- she kissed his cheek, moving her lips towards his jaw-- "but making love.... I-I don't know, Ben."

He kissed her lips, grazing her bottom lip between his teeth as he brushed a hand along her flank, rolling her over so that she was above him. He reached up and held her face, kissing her as she rested upon his body. "You control what you do," he whispered into her mouth as he kissed her again, softly, lovingly. His violet eyes gazed into hers. "Just don't close your eyes," he told her as one hand brushed her breast and cupped it gently. "Look me in the eyes, Tayla, know that it's me." He kissed her again and lay back, hands brushing her shoulders, arms and breasts as she sat above him. She looked so beautiful in the pale reflected starlight. Her short dark hair was a nimbus around her head, her body athletic and perfect. He watched her darkened lips as she bit her lower lip with perfect white teeth at the sensations of his arousal. She looked so sexual above him, pale alabaster skin and shadowed eyes that were uncertain and yet intensely desirable. As he looked at her his own desire flared.

Lyrr's eyelids fluttered as she willed them to close, but they refused. Cold, quivering hands smoothed over his chest, and they warmed instantly under the heat radiating from the desire burning within him. She felt it, too, but hers was an uncertain, timid flame struggling to thrive in her scarred heart. Their eyes locked, his encouraging her gently, and her own wild with fear and reluctance. The metal of her bracelet caught her attention as it glinted in the starlight. It reminded her all too well of her pledge to Ben, and it was only right that she fulfill her promise...in every way.

He was already stirring beneath her as she straddled his waist, but her own body was trembling, despite the strength of her will. She braced herself, however, banishing the anxiety and gripping his shoulders to steady them both. His violet eyes lent her strength, but she felt little of it as she leaned forward to position them both, while tears obscured her vision. Was it Oresh she feared, or what such intimacy meant for them both? Was she, Lyrr Tayla, prepared to bind herself to a man? "Ben," she whispered shakily, and roughly bit down on her bottom lip at the pressure building between her legs, pushing into her. She owed Ben her newfound security, and liberation from the dreams that had plagued her. She owed him, and he was calling in his repayment.

He gripped her by the hips, preventing her movement as he gazed up at her. He wanted her to continue, but held her still, achingly aware of what she was doing, feeling himself responding to her furnace heat and tightness and wanting her to get used to the sensations gently. So he held them there, tenuously between breaths as he whispered to her. "There is only you and I." He pulled her down to him, so that her weight rested upon him and he was gazing into her eyes. "I love you." His voice quavered with the emotions that filled him. "Tay...I love you, my heart," he spoke in Bajoran, the words lyrical and filled with meaning. "You are my heart and my soul... I am yours, my love." He remained immobile, but the aching heat of her wanted to consume him.

She shook her head unsteadily, and her features faltered as she warred with the growing panic. Lyrr groaned softly with the effort of keeping her mind from straying to images of Oresh - they instinctively went there, seeking him out to find closure he had never given her in his spurning. But Ben's eyes shone through the darkness of the past, finding her again and allaying her fears. Now, she felt the tenuous sensations that would soon overwhelm them both bubbling at the surface as he remained within her, throbbing with anticipation.

Her mouth opened to allow passage of the reciprocated declaration Ben had uttered so passionately, but nothing escaped save for a whimper. She didn't know what she felt, except dread. "Not now," she pleaded with him, and she too reverted to Bajoran to soften the impact. Her tears plummeted towards his cheek and splattered there. His eyelids blinked rapidly to clear away the stray droplets, and when his eyes reopened, she was sobbing soundlessly. "This isn't the time," she continued, the dejection obvious in her thick voice and coming through even in the Bajoran tongue. "Too soon...we're pushing again and..." Lyrr sucked in a sharp breath and choked it out as another sob. "I don't want to ruin this. Ben, I'm-- I'm not even protected...and we'll ruin everything."

He gazed up at her, the anguish on her face was enough. "I'm not so irresponsible that I wouldn't take my own precautions," he said gently. "I can't father a child, Tayla, until I want to. I had it done after...on the Windsor. If you don't face your fear and beat it - it will only get stronger. If you're not ready for this...then don't take me this far. I can't take this much longer, Tayla. I'm only a man." The sensations were almost overwhelming; they remained locked together but immobile and a part of him desperately wanted to move, to create any kind of friction. He could feel his pulse beating inside of her.

Her features, once depicting grief, twisted into something entirely different as his statement registered. It sounded at once cruel and selfish. "So...I'm a whore now? Is that it?" She smiled wryly and shook her head slowly in derision. "Bastard," she rasped, slammed both fists into his chest with a shriek, then flew off the bed.

He was shocked immobile as she drew away from him, the sudden movement and loss of contact coupled with her striking him unexpectedly totally threw him. It left him gasping for breath wondering what was happening.

"I'm a tease," she fumed, storming towards her closet. "A slut! Meanwhile, you're the one who insists on sleeping with no clothes on!" Lyrr sobbed in a mixture of rage and embarrassment. "I can't believe this." She seized a sweater from the rack and threw it on. "All this...all along..." Whirling around to face him, she whispered, "Tell me, Benedict T'Kal, was your intention all along to get me into bed? Is this" --she held up the wrist bearing his bracelet-- "incentive to spread my legs? Is it?"

He was dumbfounded. "Are you insane?" He couldn't cope with this. "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't say anything of the kind!" He watched her in complete amazement, all desire suddenly fled. "All I meant was that we can't keep doing this! You know how I feel, Tayla and if you think that I gave you something to get something then you dishonor me!" The anger in his voice was thick; he was still reeling from her reaction. "I'm sorry. This is a mistake." His voice became flat. He stared at her across the room and shook his head. "I love you - but this is just sheer stupidity. Calm down and think through what you're saying to me. Get rational - you brought us to this point as much as I! You dishonour yourself!" He got out of the bed and gathered up his clothes. "The bed is yours, I should go." He was shaking, and light headed.

"If you care nothing for my reluctance, or how hard this is for me, then maybe you should go," she replied curtly. "I would've thought, with as much experience as you've had with Bajoran POWs, with women who were raped and tormented at the hands of the Cardassians, that you could appreciate how much it still hurts!" Lyrr watched Ben helplessly, but at the first sign that he was departing, she rushed in front of the door and blocked his passage. "You knew I was nervous, afraid," she whispered, sorrow clear in her eyes, "and you did nothing but encourage me, Ben. This isn't the way to heal my wounds...can't you understand that?"

"I've had no experiences like this, Tayla!" he ground out as he faced her. "I don't understand! All I see is that you encourage me, and show me clearly that you want me too. What do you want of me? What else can I do but try to encourage you to face your fear? It's the only way that I've ever bested my own fears! I ask you to see a counselor; beg you! You refuse when I know that a Betazoid counselor can help you! It's your pride that stands between us, Tayla when I show you that I have none!" He stepped up to her and grabbed her shoulders, not roughly but enough that she had to look upon his anguished face. "You say that only I can help you - when you refuse proper help. I cannot wind my way through this minefield you've laid around yourself without misstepping and causing this! Why do you accuse me of thinking those awful things?" He was clearly upset, his voice breaking as he spoke.

"I didn't force you into anything, Tayla - where we went tonight was both of our faults, but if I say no then you will never face your fears, and if I say yes then what is it I make of you? You tell me I think you a whore?" His face showed the disgust he thought of that. "Yes, you tease me - as I tease you - but look how far we have come." He shook his head and pulled her into his arms, too wrung out to fight or berate her. "You would not have had anyone look upon you, and now you are comfortable with me. We share an intimacy that is only shared between lovers, though we have not fully committed the act; in our minds we may as well have done so." He spoke softly, holding her. "I love you. I am only a man - and I am also confused and this hurts me as it does you. I hurts me to see you in pain that I cannot do anything about."

"But you are doing something," she whispered. Her anger deflated, and Lyrr's arms came up around T'Kal. "You've gotten me to open myself to you," she continued, "and that's been impossible for anyone else. I just...I have to go slowly or I'm afraid I'll just go back to the way I was...so alone, so closed off to everyone." Lyrr's glazed eyes stared up into T'Kal's, and their expression was one of vulnerability and desperation. "I don't want to push you away...but I don't know how fast I can go, Ben. And...and I don't know how long you'll wait for me."

"Prophets, Tayla," his voice was a hoarse whisper, "what is it you think of me?" He sighed, deflated. "I am committed to you," he said softly, sadly. "I cannot change who I am. The bracelet I gave to you...was because I love you. I have never given its like to another. It is fashioned from my family's design...and it matches my mother's Betrothal bracelet. It is the only thing I have that is my heritage...and one day...." His voice faltered.

"Ben," she murmured. Her hands cradled his face, and tenderly she kissed each eyelid, then his lips. "One day," she repeated, smiling. "But I don't want to ruin this by going faster than I know I should. I just...I thought that's what you wanted. And then...earlier you talked about Ensign Lektar, then there is everything with Oresh..." Lyrr sighed. "I got paranoid and maybe pushed a little. And I'm sorry."

"There's no arguing that it is what I want." He shook his head. "But I want you to do what you feel is okay, not because you're afraid that I won't wait for you - or that I am friends with another woman. I'm not going to betray you with someone else, Tayla." He kissed her, drawing her back to his embrace. "I want you to see F'Zal," he said carefully. "He will help you erase those evil memories - he can, because I've been helped in the same way. It's not negotiable, Tayla. I want you to see a counselor - that will be your commitment to me. If you're unwilling to seek help when you need it most, and unwilling to set aside your pride for my sake...then you're not the woman I believe that you are."

Lyrr sighed. "An ultimatum?" she asked simply. "If I don't see him...you're ending this, aren't you?"

"If you don't accept that I have reasons enough to want you to get over this...your stubborn pride is all that's preventing you from getting rid of Oresh. A counselor will help. I know it. I have my own personal experiences to back that up! It hasn't killed my career and it won't kill yours. But damn it, Tayla, you can't keep torturing yourself - and me when you need help. If you refuse...then you don't want to rid yourself of the Cardassian. You still want to hold on to him...and you'll be choosing him over me." He stared intently into her eyes.

She was visibly shaken, and her lips trembled with an unspoken denial. Her fingers pressed into the yielding flesh of T'Kal's cheeks as she clung to him firmly, unwilling to let go; the only person she had ever wished that for was Oresh, and instead she was keeping him alive by dwelling on his wrongs to her. But therapy? "Ben...how can I do that?" she whispered. "I don't even know F'Zal! I don't trust him, not like I trust you, Ben. How can I possibly tell a stranger what I've told you?"

"You won't have to. He's Betazoid. He can see it in your mind." He held her cheeks between his palms and gazed into her eyes. "Please, Love. I'm begging you. I want us to be whole, not set apart by a Cardassian." His hatred of their whole race came out in the way he said that one word. "He's bound by confidence. This is not duty related. There is no problem with your performance as XO - so he can't even report it without your consent. If we go together.... I'll be there with you the whole time...I'll stand beside you through anything! I'm begging you to do this...for us."

She sighed, looking at once weary and defeated. "Prophets, Ben," she groaned. "This is too much to think about..." Producing a sound halfway between a sob and a misplaced chuckle, Lyrr sank into his arms and nestled her face into his chest. "I want there to be an us," she explained. "But I have to think about this. Please, give me at least a day. You ask so much of me...."

He nodded, it was the least he could do, but if she wanted any kind of future with T'Kal she had no choice. He wasn't going to give her that luxury. Wallowing in self-pity wasn't an option. Remaining tied to a Cardassian was even less of an option. One way or another, it wasn't going to continue. If it cost him their relationship, then in the end, her freedom from Oresh's curse was a cheap price to pay. He knew that once she changed her stance from an adamant 'never' to 'let me think about it', he'd won. She would do as he asked.

He held her and stroked her hair again. Everything about Lyrr was turbulent. She was like an emotional cyclone that he'd willingly stepped into, but he could see the woman she should be - hiding away inside a scarred shell, needing release. He wanted to help her, but not just for her. Benedict T'Kal had selfish reasons too. He wanted to see her be everything she could be, and love him in the same way that Tebrianne had loved him. For who he was for her. Benedict had sworn never to open his heart to another. She'd done it to him without effort. The look in her eyes when she gazed at him was enough. Their connection was many layered: cultural, emotional and spiritual. He felt all of it more strongly than the physical attraction - and that was considerable too. If she could only surrender to that connection in the same way Benedict had - unreservedly and totally. Simply telling her how he felt didn't come anywhere near how he truly felt. A part of him feared it. More than anything else he was terrified of it. It had the power to break him, for he wouldn't be able to withstand another broken heart. She didn't realize just how much he'd come to rely on her.

"Let's go back to bed, Love," he whispered into her dark hair.

She sighed heavily against him, with her entire body, and nodded. Her arms around his waist and her head still pressed to his chest, Lyrr leaned against T'Kal for support as they shuffled together towards the bed. "I'm sorry I dishonoured you," she said softly, then looked up at him and smiled. "And I forgive you for doing the same."

"You're forgiven," he said as he helped her into the bed. She was still wearing the sweater and he tucked her in and climbed in himself. A moment later she was tucked under his arm, her cheek resting upon his chest and her arm thrown over him. He wrapped his arms about her and they remained silent for a while. "I won't see you tomorrow," he said softly in the darkness. "Nor most of the next day...at the end of Beta I guess. That's for the best I think."

She swallowed hard and tried to smile. "Why is that?" she asked tentatively.

"It'll give you time to think," he replied.

"About missing you?" Lyrr chuckled weakly. "Makes sense. A-And I understand... You want time to yourself, as well." She nodded against his chest. "I understand that," she whispered. "But com-ming is not off-limits, is it?"

He chuckled, "No...though sending text messages to your Bridge station has already been done." He sighed. "No - I don't need any time to myself," he whispered. "You need time to make your choice." He kissed her brow and turned slightly so that he could look at her face in the dim light. "It's either him or me," he whispered.

Lyrr stroked his cheek fondly and smiled. "You know it's you, Ben," she told him gently. "And I'm going to work towards making you believe that. I'm a stubborn, Bajoran woman, and I won't rest until I do."

For a moment he just looked at her, the words filtering through his consciousness and then he smiled. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from him. He leaned down and kissed her, melting into her embrace. After a long lingering kiss he drew back only slightly, so that their lips were barely apart. "I'll hold you to that, my love," he breathed in a barely audible whisper.

Lyrr smiled lazily, then chuckled as she engaged him in another kiss that was slow and gentle, and flared their passions without overwhelming them both completely. Ben was right in laying down his ultimatum - it was the shove she needed to finally seek the help she'd required for years, but which stubborn Bajoran pride had prevented her from taking. She had always thought herself capable of healing on her own, but time certainly hadn't taken care of the scars Oresh had inflicted upon her.

It would take courage, but she was determined to attend the counselling sessions she'd made a promise to consider; it was one she would hold herself to, if only to keep from driving Ben away, and to also give herself enough time to explore her feelings for him, especially if she was to continue wearing his bracelet. Especially if she was to receive the next.

---

"Cleaning Up Nice"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Deck 3
Stardate: 57908.16 01h35

***

"Have I mentioned how good you look tonight?" Mason asked as Ainsley keyed up the holodeck.

Ainsley turned and grinned at him. "Actually I think that's the second or third time you've told me." She poked him in the stomach teasingly. "But thank you. You can never hear enough of that."

Program loaded, the computer stated. Enter when ready.

"As I've told you, I need some help with this program. I promised Dominic that I would teach him how to SCUBA so I need to make this suitable for him. You ready?"

"I was born ready," Mason quipped. "Of course," he added as Ainsley keyed the doors open, "I was also born. . ."

His voice died away as he saw the nude woman stride by down the sandy beach.

"Naked," he finished after taking a moment to digest the scene. He looked at Ainsley wryly, then looked down and snickered while scratching an eyebrow. "Isn't Domenic nine?"

Ainsley nodded and grinned at his expression. "That's why I said we needed to clean it up." She reached over and grabbed his arm and pulled him into the holodeck. "Let's get these doors closed before someone walks by." Just the thought made her blush a little. She could hear the talk that would go around the ship if they were seen entering a holodeck full of naked women.

"No kidding," Mason said.

The beach stretched in both directions, pristine white sands swept by warm foamy waves. As they stood absorbing the scene, a fabulously naked woman erupted from the water like Venus and strode ashore, waving suggestively to them as she walked away up the beach.

"Put your eyes back in your head," Ainsley said with a grin and an elbow into his ribs. "It's like you've never seen a naked woman before!"

Mason chuckled. "Let's take care of this before I embarrass myself any more," he murmured. Then, enunciating clearly, "Computer, eliminate all nude female characters from this program."

"Unable to comply."

"Explain stated inability," Mason was intrigued.

"Code authorization protocol not followed."

"This program has access codes for modification?"

"Affirmative."

Mason looked at Ainsley and shrugged. "He's a defensive little guy."

Ainsley shrugged too. "Like mother like son, right?" She looked around. "Are we going to be able to clean it up or should I just give up on this program and find another one?"

"Well, let's see how deep it goes first," Mason said, chuckling. "I've got priority access over a nine-year old civilian. Computer, recognize code override, Farrell Sigma Twelve."

"Unable to comply."

Mason looked perplexed, then broke into a grin. "He's a sneaky little fella, too," he murmured in Ainsley's direction.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"The computer won't recognize my override, which means there's a higher-ranking access code on this program. And who do we know Domenic's close to that's ranked higher than me?"

"It would have to be Natalia," she responded. Mason pointed a finger at her to affirm her answer.

"But I'm sure she didn't lock out any changes to this program," Ainsley added.

"Are you familiar with Occam's Razor?"

"Sure," Ainsley nodded. She'd majored in philosophy and knew it quite well. "All things being equal, the simplest explanation is probably correct."

"So consider our options: one, Domenic actually has his mother's permission to possess a program like this, or two: he stole her code. You've met the kid, and you're the counselor. What do you think?" he finished with a smile.

Ainsley smiled back at him. "Well I'm sure that Natalia doesn't know about this program. When I took it from him he was quite concerned that his mother would find out." She shrugged. "So that means he must have gotten her code somehow."

"And since he lives with her and shares her last name, that's not too terribly difficult," Mason said. "Unfortunately, it limits our options for what you want to do. With code access in Domenic's hands, I could still hack into it, but he could restore his own defaults at any time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Well," she replied, "the only time he's going to have access to the program is when he's with me, because I have the program now. He wasn't too happy when I confiscated it, either."

"I can imagine," Mason nodded. "I'd have been one upset 12-year-old myself if someone had confiscated my stash of p--" He cut himself off, noticing Ainsley's eyebrow climbing up her forehead in an expression of sarcastic amusement. He frowned guiltily and tried to change the word midstream to 'prepubescent', but couldn't think of any other word to pair with it, and gave up when she started laughing.

"We were all boys once," he shrugged, laughing along and hoping he wasn't too red. He cleared his throat. "So anyway, if Domenic's sly enough to snatch Natalia's code, he may try and slice himself off some access to the program, confiscated or not. So we may have to let him."

"What?" Ainsley asked a little incredulously. "But . . .we can't. I wont let him keep any of this program . . ."

"Here's what we do," Mason held up his hands to calm her. "First, we copy this program. File sharing's a standard holodeck protocol, and the copies don't have any codes on them so that the new recipient can alter them to taste. We can duplicate this and alter it at will."

She looked at him, a little unsure. "And what would we do with this original one?"

"Have Counselor Scott lock it up. She's got the code authority to do that. She could lock down the captain if she wanted."

She nodded. "So then if he did try to get part of this program for himself and convert it back to the settings that Natalia's code had set up it wouldn't work because Natalia's code will not be present in the copied program."

"Right," Mason affirmed. "We'll make a copy, remove the naked people, add whatever SCUBA stuff you want, and then copy it again. That will reset the program defaults so the naked people don't even exist. Then we can give it back to him with no worries."

"Alright, sounds workable," Ainsley responded. "How do we do this then?"

"I can work on it tomorrow. I ought to be able to have it done by the end of Beta, god willing and the creek don't rise," he grinned. "Just get me the details of what you want, and I'll see it gets done."

"I'll leave it to you then, and I'll be very thankful." She linked her arm with one of his and said, "Join me for a stroll before we head back?"

"Certainly, ma'am," Mason said dramatically, then looked around at the naked people on the beach. "But not here. Computer, Load program Rome Centro Storico. At night."

Their surroundings shimmered into the medieval streets and homey palazzos of Rome's most famous walking district. A narrow avenue led to a small courtyard a short distance away, the streets aglow in the light of a full moon on a clear night.

Ainsley would know these streets with her eyes closed, Roman history was one of her favourite things. "Mason," she whispered. "This is beautiful! What made you look into this program."

"The Italian letter you sent me. I checked out some basic tourist programs after I got that deciphered. It put me in an Italian mood," he smiled at her as they started walking.

"An Italian mood is a good thing," she responded.

***

"I'd been so excited to go to Milan to learn how to ski and here I am, one hour after getting there, with my tongue stuck to this stupid metal pole. I guess I could have gotten Ali to run and get some warm water to melt it off but I was so embarrassed that I just yanked. It hurt like hell and I couldn't taste any of the wonderful food that we ate that entire week!" Ainsley shook her head thoughtfully as Mason laughed. She'd never told anyone that story before, it still made her blush.

"I didn't think anyone actually ever did that," Mason grinned, his laugh subsiding.

They had paused to sit on the edge of a wide fountain in the middle of one of the dozens of hidden courtyards of the centro storico. The lights of the small cafe across the square glittered on the water of the meters-wide basin. A few night-owl diners and lovers sat at the cafe, being served by dark-haired waiters in gleaming white shirts.

"It's one of those stories that you always hear told as 'I know someone who . . .' and you never really meet anyone that has done it, or at least who'll admit to having done it. But," she put up her hand, "I did!"

"I bet that hurt as bad as birth," Mason grinned. "Did it scar? Let me see." He leaned in.

Ainsley grinned. "I don't think so. Do you actually want to see my tongue?"

"It's a cheap ploy to get close enough to kiss you," Mason said softly, even closer now. "Play along, willya?"

Her giggle was cut short with the kiss, long and lingering.

"Yep," Mason whispered when the kiss had run its course. "Clearly there was no lasting damage."

"Is that your expert opinion?" she asked with a grin.

He smiled back, and just kissed her again.

After the second kiss ended she leaned back and said, "You never need a cheap ploy to kiss me. Just so you know." She leaned back in and kissed him this time. They shifted slightly into a tight embrace, hands playing across each other's backs. He moved his mouth from hers and down her throat, eliciting a deep pleasure-sigh.

She felt his hand against the skin of her back, beneath her blouse, and pressed closer to him, feeling the hand slide slightly higher and relishing the touch. His other hand moved to her thigh, and she turned further toward him.

He moved to lift her onto his lap, but the motion overbalanced them both; their eyes snapping open as they realized their error. The kiss broke with a yelp as the pair toppled into the fountain, flailing and splashing.

After a second Ainsley started giggling and couldn't stop. She sat in the fountain, soaking wet, her hair plastered to her head and her silk blouse clinging to her, giggling like crazy.

Mason flailed into a sitting position and splashed at her playfully, wiping a hand across his face. She splashed him back, and they were quickly in an all-out war, water flying out of the fountain in arcing gouts as they laughed and wrestled in the broad shallows.

Finally, they sat together, their clothes a wreck, hair matted and Ainsley's mascara running, against the side of the fountain's interior, panting and letting their laughter work itself out.

"I bet you can tell now whether I'm wearing makeup or not," Ainsley managed to get out between giggles.

"I'll never tell," Mason chuckled and nuzzled her hair. "I could stay here all night," he mumbled absently.

"Me too," Ainsley responded and snuggled against Mason. Then she remembered what time of day it was. Or rather what time of night it was. She sat up and looked at Mason. "But I really have to get to bed. I have to be in my office in a few hours."

"True. I've kept you out too long," said Mason. "You'll be a zombie for Alpha shift. Sorry," he said, sitting up straighter and moving to climb out of the fountain.

"Don't apologize. It was worth it," Ainsley responded and took his hand as he reached over to help her out of the fountain.

"That's true, too," Mason said, stealing another kiss as she straightened. "Computer, arch."

The arch shimmered up, and then shimmered back out. Mason arched an eyebrow and looked at Ainsley.

"Computer, arch," he tried again.

The arch stayed this time. Mason harrumphed. "I'll need to tell Sanchez to run a diagnostic on that."

Ainsley nodded in agreement as they left the deck, thinking of all the stories she had heard of people getting stuck in a holodeck. "That could be dangerous."

"Sorry, fellas," Mason said to the pair of crewmen waiting in the corridor in pareesi squares gear. He pointed to himself and Ainsley. "As you can see, this deck's having some trouble. I'm placing it out of service for at least the night."

"Aw, man," one said. "That's two today." Mason thought about that a moment, and then recommenced walking Ainsley back to her quarters.

---

"And Now, A Musical Interlude"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Tristan Finn; Security Officer
Ensign Kelzira Rax; Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Auditorium
Stardate: 57908.16 04h12

***

Farrell couldn't sleep. He rarely could during the night anyway, and his schedule was such that he usually napped through most of Alpha shift. So he walked the corridors in a dry off-duty uniform and thought. Two holodecks were down today. That was odd. He'd told Sanchez, though, and he'd see what happened when he got on shift later.

The concept of seeing what happened made him think of Ainsley again. He conjured up the recent memories of her kisses, and smiled dreamily as he did so, idly glad that it was late and no one was in the corridors to see his goofy expression. Ainsley was great, and he thanked his lucky stars that they had managed to keep seeing each other after all of their errors. Truth was, he felt like he needed her. She kept him centered; kept him in the realization that there was more to it all than reports and ducking the senior staff. It was something he'd forgotten, that some things were intangible, but worth it anyway. It felt good to remember it.

He found himself randomly entering the Auditorium. He hadn't been in the newly redecorated auditorium yet, and he stopped just inside the doorway and brought the lights up dim. He walked down the short aisle and took a look around, not bothering to close the door.

There was a piano, a smallish upright rolled away from the wall in an accompanist's position by the stage. He'd always liked the piano, and he often took the time to sit back and be grateful to his grandmother for requiring him to learn to play; another intangible that had been quite worth it. He sat down and noodled around on the keys a bit. It was satisfying and homey.

"It's always strange to be wandering the corridors," came a voice from the top of the aisle, "and hearing a familiar tune." He hummed along with the piano for a moment, as he descended the steps. "It's been a long while since I've heard this one. You don't often hear the oldies, especially in the enlightened age where everyone loves classical. Tristan Percival Finn."

"Classical's not bad in measured doses," Farrell said, switching up to the opening chords of Beethoven's fifth. "But it gets a little overblown sometimes." He worked the chords into a syncopated piano riff and carried on. " 'sides, as far as I'm concerned, the Beatles are classical. Mason Farrell. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Finn said as he stepped up onto the stage. He nodded to Farrell's work on the keys. "Not bad. I hear there's a guy on the ship who's a regular wizard with the collected works of Air Supply. One night we could have a Retro Night, where all the oldies are played, or a considerable sample since all of them would last more than a night, considering how many centuries of oldies there are now." He allowed a foot to tap in time with the music and soon his head was bobbing along with it. "Not bad at all, Mason."

Farrell chuckled. "Never heard of Air Supply. You know 'Penny Lane'?"

"Know it," Finn asked with a grin and an offhanded wave. "There are times when I feel like I wrote 'Penny Lane.' "

Farrell laughed out loud. "Trade verses with me, and we'll both jump in for the chorus." And he started:

"On the Sulu there's a scientist showing too much thigh / And it's the finest thigh you ever will have known. / And all the people that come and go / Stop and say hello."

With a laugh, Finn plopped himself down on the piano bench at Farrell's side and started in on the next verse:

"In Security is a swordsman with an attitude, / Enlisted crewmen laugh at him behind his back. / For he always wears surface blacks / They don't show the stains, very strange."

Farrell grinned and nodded as they swung into the chorus:

"Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. / There beneath the blue suburban skies / I sit, and meanwhile back"

At Finn's wave, Farrell took the next verse:

"In Engineering there's a drummer with a grumpy smile / And in his pocket are his notes on everything. / He likes to keep his warp drive nacelle clean, / It's a clean machine."

And the chorus:

"Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. / A four of fish and finger pies / In summer, meanwhile back"

From where he sat, Finn started something of a soft-shoe, feet moving in time with the music:

"Behind the doorway to the sickbay down upon deck five / A pretty nurse is setting hypos on a tray / And tho' she feels as if she's in a play / She is anyway."

Finn gave his feet a flourish, and pointed to Farrell to indicate the next verse was his. Farrell took it.

"On the bridge the captain answers to a distress call / The XO says she has a problem with his trim / then the Ops Manager tries to grin / It is sad to see, and frightening."

And they swung into the final chorus together:

"Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes. / There beneath the blue suburban skies / I sit, and meanwhile back. / Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes. / There beneath the blue suburban skies, / Penny Lane."

Farrell closed out the song's final chord, and slapped palms with Finn, nodding.

"Oh dear," came the voice from the entrance. "I...well, I guess if we ever have a Sulu talent show, you two are in." Dressed in civilian attire, a casual top and long skirt, Kelzira Rax started down toward where they sat celebrating. "And, not bad, by the way."

"Well, thank you, Ma'am," Farrell bowed his head to the new arrival.

"I was hoping this place would get used, but I didn't realize it'd be so soon. I'm Kelzira, by the way."

"Farrell," he twanged, smiling.

"Finn," Finn said and gave her a nod as she took a seat in the first row of the audience. "It's a nice place. And, the piano has a nice sound to it, though that could have just been Mr. Farrell's playing."

"No, it's a good piano. Is it replicated?" Farrell asked.

"I don't believe so," Kelzira answered. "I picked it up on Deep Space Nine when we were there. You should have seen me and Tchi trying to get it in here." She rolled her eyes. "We're both scientists, so not very big in the brawn department. And, Tchalla is smaller than me. It was really quite humourous. Thankfully one of the guys in Ops was around to help us or it'd probably still be stuck at Junction 39."

"On behalf of Ops, you're welcome," Farrell said with a smile. "And don't ever recycle it. The action's good on the keys, and that's rare in a replicated model."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Kelzira said with a laugh. "With all the trouble we had to go through to get it in here, I'd defend that thing with a phaser before I ever let anyone recycle it. And, it does sound really nice."

Farrell nodded and fingered out a snappy little chord.

"Well," Finn said, leaning forward with a grin, "if you ever need someone to carry something heavy for you again, or even just move something heavy since there are things that just can't be carried, you just call on me and my friend Farrell here. We'll be more than happy to help you out. Won't we, Farrell?"

"Absolutely," Farrell said, looking up at Kelzira. "Provided you sing us a song now."

"Oh, I don't know," Kelzira said with a laugh as she moved up to sit on the corner of the stage. She gave them both a demure smile. "I don't know if I know anything nearly as witty as that song you were singing."

Farrell gave Finn a glance and looked back at Kelzira with a shrug. "Doesn't have to be witty, little miss modest," he drawled. "Do you know 'Unforgettable'?"

"Does a Trill have spots," Kelzira asked with a grin. "Hit it, Farrell."

"Can no one just say 'yes' in this room?" Farrell mused with a smile as he worked up the opening chords.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are," Kelzira sang. And on went the night. Songs were sung, laughter was exchanged, and the trio whiled away hours, breaking just ahead of Alpha shift.

---

"Making the Best of Questionable Decisions"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counsellor

Location: USS Sulu, Chief Medical Officer's Quarters
Stardate: 57908.16, 05h30

***

"Why no hangover?" Damhnait Sefton murmured incoherently, once she was certain she was conscious. She had just slipped from a particularly vivid dream involving Fortu, a bottle of Cyndrielan Cerulesque and the kitchen floor of their home on Betazed. There had been something unusual about the drink, but she couldn't remember what, since the dream hadn't been based on any particular memory.

She let it slip from her mind, as she let the satiny royal-violet sheets slip from her unclothed body. Once she was on her feet, the soothing of a sonic shower was all that filled her mind, despite there being a crimson something twitching at the periphery of her thoughts. She could almost hear the sonics of the shower already, and after taking a step towards the refresher, she identified that she could, in fact, hear the sonics of the shower already. She wasn't as alone in her quarters as she'd originally expected.

Sefton drifted up to the door of the fresher, left open either by accident or design, and peered inside a little hesitantly. The bloated silhouette she saw in the frosted shower partition began to conspire with the crimson something and she had begun her slow realization long before a certain unpleasant singing voice confirmed her fears.

"Will I ever find / The girl in my mind / The one who is my i-deal? / Maybe she's a dream / And yet she might be / Just around the corner wai-ting for me."

Damhnait's feet rooted to where she was standing, and her right hand found its way to her forehead. Struggling to remember the previous night, she brushed her bangs far enough back on her head until she was repeatedly running her hand through her hair with increasing discontent. "Fuck."

The sonics ceased instantly and Potts' head appeared, thankfully keeping his body in frosted silhouette. He seemed optimistically cheerful. "Good morning, my most lovely Lieutenant Commander Sefton. Is that an invitation?" he asked, referring to her expletive.

Sefton's only response was a furrowed brow of bewilderment, and a pouty pursing of her lips. She idly wondered if she were going insane, and if Potts would be able to diagnose her, and then she walked back to the bed. She perched herself on the edge of it, and crossed her arms over her stomach to ponder.

She had a few moments before Potts emerged from the fresher, one towel around his waist and one tied up on his head in spite of the absence of any water in a sonic shower and the absence of hair on his head. Unfortunately, his body was not so blessed: His chest was a thick thatch of reddish-brown hair. He walked by humming to himself, half-past Doctor Sefton before he noticed the morose expression and stopped short.

"What's the matter?" he asked, completely oblivious.

"My head," Damhnait answered vaguely, wrapping the bedsheet around herself. She looked to Potts then, and directly asked, "Did we have sex?"

Potts smiled broadly. "It's so funny you're asking that question, Doctor...I was asking it myself when I woke up nude, sheathed in your luxurious sheets next to simply one of the loveliest women in the Gamma Quadrant." He sat down next to her. "Of course, I was a little fuzzy on the answer myself and couldn't rouse you so I thought to examine the evidence objectively. I began, of course, with my own geni --"

"Did you find the solution, or just get too distracted 'examining' my body while I slept?" Damhnait asked testily, unable to get the answer from his contorted mind either.

"We did not have sex," Potts admitted sadly. "I'm fairly convinced of it and more than a little disappointed, to be perfectly honest." He looked down at the deck and placed one hand on her knee in a friendly fashion. "It seems that our Mister Farrell was misled."

"Oh," was Damhnait's flat response. "Hunh." She rose from the bed, let the sheet drop, and meandered towards the sonic shower.

Potts stood up. "I'm afraid I used the last of your clean towels, Doctor. Shall I replicate you another...or would you like one of these?" He pulled the dry towel from around his waist and held it out to her, leaving the one on his head.

Sefton offered no verbal reply, and just ordered the start of the sonics in her shower. She let the white noise of the sonics fall away, as she focused intently on ascertaining what it was that she was feeling. It was conflicted, but, surprisingly enough, it involved no revulsion.

***

"What is that smell?" Damhnait brightly asked, moments after she stepped out of her bedroom, clad in a fresh class A uniform, while wearing her chocolate-brown hair tightly pulled back away from her face, but flowing freely down past her shoulders. Potts had just set breakfast down on her dining table and was re-dressed in his garish ensemble from the previous night. In the morning, he looked no less ridiculous.

"Indian potato pancakes," Potts said, smiling. "A discovery of mine when I started at the Academy." He pulled out a chair for her. "I considered replicating you something from the homeworld but Deltan food is so very light and airy. I can't speak for you but I'm more famished than if we had engaged in intercourse."

"I am quite hungry." Once Sefton seated herself, attained ergonomic posture and placed a napkin in her lap, she looked to Ilan seriously. "Being completely honest with you, and myself, I believe a small part of me was disappointed when I thought we had had sex, but that I could not remember it. I suppose I am curious to find out if your ability matches your imagined reputation."

"Imagined!" Potts said, truly shocked to his core. He settled into his own seat, across from her. "I am half-Deltan, my lovely Lieutenant Commander Sefton. That alone should speak to my considerable prowess."

"Then there's no need to sate my curiosity, I suppose, because it is really quite obvious that colleagues only get one chance for experimenting with such curiosity. Afterwards, any attempts can only be awkward and uncomfortable for all parties involved, as well as anyone else who happens to work with either of them." Damhnait shook her head with a slight tsk. "When I first joined the Proxima, the Assistant Chief Medical Officer had bad curiosity sex with the Assistant Chief Engineer, and then the Engineer hurt herself during an almost-warp-core-breach, spending the next month in Sickbay. They flirted and fought and embarrassed one another intentionally. Such a mess."

Potts was shaking his head. "Fortunately, it seems that most of our shipmates here on the Sulu are avoiding such pitfalls admirably. At least, they seem to be...I have not yet really dug into the various shipboard romances." Potts got a heaping forkful of potato pancake. "And we would be wise to remember that sex is not necessarily romance. In my particular case, it nearly never is."

"Half of my staff used to be Gossip Officers, and from them I discovered that probably half of the shipboard romances are only held together by the sex, and that all of them are so new that there simply hasn't been time for the shame and recrimination to set in. Perhaps this event will act as a catalyst for us to assume something resembling a friendly relat--" Damhnait had cut a corner of her pancake with the edge of her fork, and could not continue speaking once she took her first taste of the food. "Mo dhia, this is superb. Do you have a proper recipe for it? My husband would adore preparing this."

Potts nodded as he finished chewing, only mildly annoyed at the evocation of Fortu's spectre. "I needed the recipe to program the perimeters into the replicator. I'll send it to you."

Nodding at Ilan's words, Damhnait's attention began to split. Without breaking eye-contact with him, she ate another bite of pancake and then retrieved the PADD that had been unceremoniously left on the chair beside hers. Quietly sliding it onto the table, she took quick glances down to it, double-checking the research plan she had prepared before Potts' had arrived the previous night.

"What are you reading?" Potts asked, between bites.

"My research plan for the JJ324c humanoid remains," Sefton half-explained. One corner of her smile curled up higher, as she asked, "In fact, do you have any free time in your schedule?"

"I'm feeling completely refreshed," Potts answered enthusiastically, stabbing his fork into his food. "If anything, Mister Farrell's faux-Cerulesque allows for a wonderful night of rest." Potts took a bite of pancake. "So I'm free until Beta," Potts muttered with his mouth full. "Why do you ask?"

"While I cannot do anything about the decision to bring aboard some of the planet's dead, I would greatly appreciate it if you could spend some time attempting to discover all you can about their burial rites. At worst, we will return the bodies to where we found them, but I would prefer to be able to offer them proper funerals."

Potts grimaced, only a little feigned. "My tastes run towards bones properly clothed in soft flesh...burial rites seem such a depressing subject." He looked at her hopeful expression. "But how could I refuse any request from you, Doctor? I am at your command."

"Thank you," Damhnait stated warm and genuinely. "I owe you."

---

"Relegating Control"
by Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist
and Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck One
Stardate: 57908.16, 06h58

***

With sweat winding a path down her throat and into the gap between both breasts, Amy Reese hunched over in exhaustion and propped her hands onto her bent knees to catch her breath. Her white gi clung to her moist body and her damp hair stuck to her forehead, but with Case's attentions, she still felt attractive, even though she shouldn't. Throughout the training session, his hands had been on her waist, squeezing her shoulders for encouragement, or caressing her thighs to presumably gauge muscle tone, but every touch had held an undertone of sensuality that made her tremble. Her mind was made up, she had to cease her association with Case as Kelli had advised, or else there would be more than innocent caresses. Though, after she could breathe again.

Case ran his appraising eye over Reese. In just a few sessions, she showed remarkable improvement in her movement and muscle tone as well as her reliability: She had not been late once since his threat of push-ups. He smiled and tossed her a towel.

"That's it for today, Ensign. Good work." He turned from her and walked to the arch to make a few programming changes for his own workout.

She grinned and snatched at the towel from where it had landed at her feet. Dabbing at her face, she approached Case. "Chief...I'm really enjoying our time together," she began. "It's been...really fun."

"It's nice to instruct someone again," Case said, punching in code. "Especially someone who shows a lot of promise." He didn't turn to look at her but she could still see his smile in profile.

Amy looked away bashfully as she stopped behind him. "You're just a good teacher, that's all. And that's why..." She sighed, the sound alone expressing her disappointment. "I-I don't know if we can train anymore. I'm sorry."

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to quit," he said, finally turning to face her. "Sir," he added, as a bemused afterthought.

Smiling uncertainly, Amy said, "But...I have to. You see...I have a boyfriend and he wouldn't like me spending all this time with you." Her gaze faltered under his intense stare, and his smile alone had her body tingling. "I-I just have to stop," she whispered unsteadily. "I'm sorry."

"This is his idea then?" Case asked tersely. "Who is your boyfriend?"

"Kit Markham," she answered hastily. "B-But it was my friend...Kelli... She's the one who suggested...." Amy trailed off, too distressed to continue.

"I'm not sure I understand, Ensign. What vested interest does your friend have in your training? Or not training, as the case may be." Sorien took a step closer and cocked a half-smile. His one ebon eye looked right through her. "And if your boyfriend hasn't complained so far, what makes you think he will?"

"Because," she whispered, and felt a pull to gaze up at him. Her body shivered when she did. "You're a man," she explained. "He gets jealous and worried.... I-I've been with other men before that weren't him." Amy whimpered a sigh as her body swayed towards his. "I...I might want to be with you," she breathed. "That's the trouble."

"Is that a fact now?" Case asked with a bemused smile. He moved no closer to Amy but it seemed like he did. His one eye twinkled.

She swallowed hard, and nodded unsteadily as her gaze remained raptly fixed to his; it seemed to consume her flesh with its intense fire. Amy sobbed, her will broken and resolve now non-existent. "I-I don't want to stop, though," she explained. "But...Kit...."

"...will be pleased with the end result of your training," Case remarked. He looked down at the matted floor. "I'm flattered by your feelings, Ensign. And I share them, to some degree." He looked at her again and did take an actual step closer. "We do have a way out of this predicament that doesn't involve you quitting an activity you enjoy."

She frowned inquisitively and blinked away hot tears. "We do? How?"

"You outrank me," he pointed out with a charming smile. "Simply order me to behave myself." He moved a strand of matted hair out of her eyes. "You can't 'be with me' if I'm actively resisting your obvious charms." His brow furrowed as he contemplated a new thought that kept him smiling. "Unless you intend to overpower me..."

Amy's quivering lips curled into a sly grin and she raised her hand to clasp Case's thick wrist. "I didn't know you were misbehaving," she told him, her boldness returning with renewed strength. "So...will I have to make it an order, Chief?" Her fingers brushed along the back of his hand, then dragged down towards his forearm again. "Will I?"

"You will," he affirmed, his hand still on her cheek. He slipped it to the back of her head. "But not just yet..."

Case pulled Amy to him until their lips touched. She tensed slightly as if meaning to struggle, but the feeble attempt lasted not an instant under the febricity of their mouths locking firmly, and their probing tongues entangling. Amy's nails bit into Case's back against his sweat-dampened gi, wishing the restrictive outfits could be disposed of without requiring them to break their kiss. Her eyes remained wide open and appeared confounded as she stared at Case. There was a desperate yearning to end the predicament he'd placed her in, though her actions indicated otherwise as she flattened against him. She ground her hips into his, and gasped into his greedy mouth at the enticement that greeted her from between Case's legs. Her rational mind knew, for her relationship with Kit, that she had to pull away, but an enthralling force had hold of her, and Amy was powerless against its influence. As her hands slid around his waist, and forward to unlace the tie on his gi, his warm, supple lips moved out of reach and his solid body pulled away. Amy nearly toppled forward as she leaned in, seeking his kiss once more, but whimpered as Case steadied her.

"Okay, now it's out of the way," Case said, dropping his hand back to his side. "There's no more mystery and neither of us will be wondering what we're missing." Case stiffened to near-attention, though he still smiled broadly. "I'll have that order now. Sir."

Her hand still rested on her chest, measuring the force of her heartbeat against flesh and bone. She sucked in a staggering breath and whispered, "Are you so sure you want it?"

"No," he admitted, his smile fading a little with a serious look. "But I do want you to continue your training so I think you'd better do it all the same."

Amy nodded slowly, though a mischievous smile remained. "Alright...then if you ever kiss me again, Chief, I'll have you reprimanded," she told him. She watched him with lust and a desire that had come on so quickly and unexpectedly, she was nearly shaking with a need to force Case to the ground with her. Amy sighed and closed her eyes briefly to channel the swirl of thoughts within her mind into a single, coherent statement. Her mouth began moving with it before she was aware of what was being spoken. "If Kit does dump me over this" --her eyes flashed open, finding Case's immediately and conveying mild bewilderment-- "you'll be the first to know." Amy went silent, then, now appearing nonplussed by the words she'd uttered, ones that had come from seemingly nowhere.

"Aye, sir," Case said, grinning again and not in the least perplexed. "Day after tomorrow then? 0600 hours. Don't be late."

Amy shook her head numbly. "I-I won't be," she whispered, and began sidling her way towards the arch, watching Case with a curious smile. "I have to go now.... I'll see you."

The double doors of the holodeck parted with a heavy hiss. "Count on it, Ensign," Case said, still smiling but unable to make the words sound less than ominous to Amy's ear.

She watched him with a subtle mixture of befuddlement and desire, then reluctantly stepped into the corridor. In that moment, she knew everything Kelli had warned her of was happening, and that she was better off breaking all ties with Case. But after that kiss and the ensuing boldness that had come over her as she nearly offered herself to him, Amy Reese sadly realized it was now out of her control.

---

"Our Own Little Stories"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; Operations Crewman

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.16 07h00

***

With T'Kal having left early that morning to complete the away team report she had coaxed him out of writing the previous night, Lyrr was alone to eat breakfast. Feeling the effects of not enough sleep following her night of unexpected drama with Ben, Lyrr asked the replicator groggily for her morning tea. Coinciding with its arrival, the door chime rang and Lyrr sighed. A visitor first thing in the morning was the last thing she needed. "Enter," she sighed, and raised the cup to her lips.

"Good morning, Commander," said Crewman Rett, stepping calmly through the doorway, his toolkit on his shoulder.

"Good morning." Her smile was genuinely pleasant, and she gestured him inside without even a thought as to why he was dropping by. He was a welcome sight, surprisingly. "Anything the matter?"

"I've been monitoring your replicator unit since the skirt incident in case any more interface hiccups surfaced. A few nights ago your unit produced several hundred pounds of candles, and I put it on my list of things to check. Is everything all right?"

Lyrr's eyes grew wide, and she cleared her throat with a cough. "Candles?" She smiled tightly and shrugged. "Just...for ambience. You've never done such a thing before?"

"I'll just check the interface," Rett said cryptically, the smile evident in his voice rather than visible on his face. He moved to the machine, and again opened the access panel.

Watching him, and shifting restlessly from foot to foot, Lyrr finally blurted out, "It was a massage. The candles were for a massage and...and I don't know why I'm telling you this." She sighed heavily and slumped down into the nearest chair. "So...there."

Rett stayed on one knee for a time, holding the access panel and absently studying it. At last he snapped it back into place, and rose.

"Are you alright, Commander?" he asked simply.

Lyrr smiled wanly. "About? In general or is it something in particular, Crewman?"

"Just curious, sir. My apologies. I spoke out of turn." He shouldered his kit again and waited patiently.

"No..." She sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong. I mean...I imagine you've heard the rumours, right?"

"Indeed," Rett nodded, "but your life is your own. It is far from my place to question."

"What have you heard?" she asked, her expression stern and direct. "I don't ever get the rumours. You have to tell me. Please."

Rett rubbed his forehead with a knuckle, thinking. "Commander T'Kal chased you through the corridors in tears. And now he comes and goes from your quarters at irregularly regular intervals. There's not much more than that, though the conclusion is an easy one to draw."

"That we're an item?" she ventured, then smiled and nodded. "I was going to ask you, while you were here, to program the computer to recognize his voice signature." Lyrr looked down demurely, and picked nervously at the hem of her sleeve. "We are - an item, I mean. He's going to be staying in my quarters off and on."

Rett nodded and went to one knee again to open the access panel, unzipping his kitbag and producing his tricorder and its interface module. "How long have you known Lieutenant Commander T'Kal?" he asked in the manner of polite conversation.

She shrugged and dropped both hands into her lap to keep them still; her fingers soon began scratching idly at her knees. "A month or so. Things have moved fast, I know...but we're taking it slowly. We have to because of...well..." Lyrr shook her head, avoiding the issue entirely.

Rett nodded with understanding, and plugged the interface module into the replicator. "Fast but slow?" he asked gently.

"Well, yes..." Lyrr sat up straighter and turned in her chair to face Rett fully, with one folded elbow draped over the chair back. "He's a very intense man...very physical and emotional. I'm your characteristic temperamental, stubborn Bajoran woman, as you may have guessed" --she smiled at him, and saw him smile back knowingly-- "and he's just...very different. But he understands my need to take things slowly. We've been close a couple times, but he knows when to stop...and yet again, I have no idea why I'm telling you all this." Chuckling in disbelief, Lyrr looked away as she shook her head. "I've never been this open before, and I think it's your fault, Crewman."

"How so, sir?" he asked, keying up his tricorder.

"How so?" Lyrr smiled quizzically. "You just...say nothing and I start talking. You must be doing something, Crewman."

"Perhaps you just feel you need someone to talk to," Rett said, glancing at her briefly before continuing his tricorder work. "It wouldn't do, I suppose, for a person in your position to be seeing a counselor. You have an image to maintain, after all."

"I don't need a counsellor," she replied indignantly. "There's nothing wrong with me mentally. Or is that part of the latest rumours floating around this ship? Because I was seen stumbling through the corridors crying, I've become mentally unstable?" She snorted wryly. "I'm far stronger than any of those loose-lipped junior officers know. I've seen things, been through things none of them would survive if they were confronted with the same." Her gaze darkened and her eyes stared distantly at her fingers gripping the wrung of her chairback tightly. "None of them will know sacrifice and suffering until they've experienced what I've been through," she whispered.

"Do you have anyone you feel you can just talk to?" Rett replied, placidly in the face of her ire.

Lyrr sighed and awoke from her somber reverie to smile at him wanly. "There's no one, not even Ben. I'm used to turning to myself for that sort of thing."

"Not," he hesitated, uncertain of the word, "Ben? Lieutenant Commander T'Kal?" he corrected himself.

Lyrr smiled quizzically. "Yes... I thought I'd made that clear. I'm involved with Lieutenant Commander T'Kal."

He smiled more genuinely. "No, sir. I understood you. I was making sure you said you don't feel you can talk to the Lieutenant Commander. Is that what you said?"

Sighing, she shrugged. "It hasn't gone down well in the past - confessing to him, that is. I did last night, and.... He's very passionate and...some of the things about my past just don't sit well with him. He told me never to lie to him...so instead, I say nothing about certain things. Is that so bad?"

Rett looked troubled. "I see. Do you consider it good?"

"I don't know what to consider it," Lyrr replied. "I've never done this sort of thing before. Is it wrong to keep secrets from someone you care for...for their own sake?"

Rett thought seriously about that for several long moments, setting his tricorder aside and sitting opposite Lyrr without looking directly at her.

"I will concede that in certain instances, certain things are probably best left untold for the sake of friendship," he said slowly, obviously still working out his thoughts as he spoke. "But in a relationship grown closer than simple friendship, secrecy may be counterproductive. You call the Lieutenant Commander and yourself 'an item.' You have only known each other a month," he was musing now, thinking aloud, his thoughtful frown still in place. "May I speak freely, sir?"

"If it were anyone else, no...but...." Lyrr nodded and gestured permission.

"Are the two of you," he hesitated, "physically close?"

Lyrr cleared her throat and was clearly uncomfortable. "You mean...sex?" She didn't require confirmation and quickly shook her head. "It hasn't gone that far. I mean...it's been close...but we haven't. I-I'm not ready and he knows that...and we're holding off."

"Wisdom," he said simply.

"Wisdom?" Shifting to fully face him, she regarded him quizzically. "Wise to wait? Or...something else?"

"Wisdom to wait," Rett confirmed. "If you can't be honest with him, it's wise not to further muddy your relationship with sex."

"Further muddy?" Lyrr shook her head in disbelief. "What are you trying to say, Mr. Rett? Feel free to speak candidly."

"This is a strange relationship you seem to be in, sir. You spend time together, but apparently don't speak substantially. Do you have affection for him? Or does he simply make you feel safe?"

Lyrr sighed and scrubbed a hand through her hair with obvious agitation. "I...feel things for him that I can't explain," she replied curtly. "Yes, I feel safe with him and the nightmares go away.... And we do talk, it's just...things are new and we're taking time to get familiar with one another, and maybe that means we're a little more physical and a little less...talkative. Is that truly very bad?"

"Physical is easier than talkative," Rett said simply.

She smiled wryly. "Not for me, it isn't," she told him. "Not with my past. But...he makes it easy, and I don't know how he does it." Picking again at the hem of her sleeve, she muttered half-heartedly, "I guess I'm rehabilitated after all."

"Rehabilitated?"

"Yes," she answered, without really answering. "Aren't you, after your time with the Cardassians?"

"Your time with the Cardassians made it difficult for you to be physical, and you feel the Lieutenant Commander is rehabilitating you?" His questions remained calm, his tone neutral.

Lyrr smiled wanly. "Is that so hard to believe, Mr. Rett?"

"Not at all. He makes you feel safe, then?"

She nodded. "He makes all my troubles vanish...and I appreciate that."

"But you don't talk to him?"

Lyrr laughed, clearly in frustration. "We talk!" she insisted. "Just...we avoid certain subjects I don't particularly like delving into. Everyone's allowed to have secrets, aren't they?"

"Do you trust him?" Rett remained calm, his eyes honest and his expression open.

"Completely?" she asked, then sighed and nodded. "I do...but there are just some things better left unsaid, I think."

Rett looked skeptical. It was unnervingly like the way Derna looked at her when he wasn't entirely buying her youthful stories. "Completely but?"

"Completely but I don't think there are some things he'd appreciate hearing," she answered impatiently. "He doesn't like Cardassians," she continued hastily, clearly unnerved, "and neither do I."

"So you would tell him everything, except that you don't trust his reactions to Cardassian-related information."

Lyrr regarded him levelly, her composure quickly regained. "I would tell him everything...but I'm ashamed. That's why he can't know."

Rett looked at the tabletop and sighed thoughtfully. "Indeed. We all have our shames."

Nodding slowly, Lyrr smiled significantly at Rett and mused, "Some of us more than others, I would say."

Rett smiled and his eyes were far away for a moment. Then he slapped his thigh, took a breath, and consulted his tricorder as a way of changing the subject. His eyebrows rose slightly. "It would appear that the Lieutenant Commander has already overridden the system to grant himself access," he said.

Lyrr chuckled, and nodded. "I should have suspected as much. But, thank you for the effort, Crewman." Smile softening and finally reaching her eyes, Lyrr added, "And for everything else. I find it easy to talk to you, even if we're not exactly talking."

"Well, I'm always ready to listen, sir," he said with a paternal smile, as he leaned forward to rise from his chair.

"Really?" Lyrr nodded slowly, disguising her relief with a wan smile. He had just secured himself as her confidante, whether he wished to be or not. "If that's the case...then can we discuss something hypothetical, let's say, while you at least pretend that the situation in question has no bearing on reality?" She shrugged. "Care to humour me?"

It was clear that he noted the shift in her tone. He hesitated for only a moment, then settled back in his seat with his hands laced across his stomach. "Certainly, sir."

Lyrr smiled her gratitude and gestured vaguely. "The hypothetical situation," she began, "involves a woman...inexperienced in matters of relationships and intimacy, and a man who is far more experienced, let's say."

Rett nodded. "Indeed."

She cleared her throat, acknowledging his complete understanding of events. "This woman," she continued easily, "she's...detached, somewhat - dysfunctional in a sense. See...she's had a hard life. She--" Her resolve faltered, and Lyrr looked down at her folded hands. "The Cardassians did horrible things to her," she whispered. "She never truly recovered. She...repressed, and has been living that way since. But this man..." Lyrr sighed deeply. "He doesn't want to compete with the memories; he wants them gone." She watched her fingers tangling nervously in her lap and chuckled at her own discomfort. "Prophets...if she's this uptight now, can you only imagine how she'll be if she agrees to the counselling sessions?"

"Compete?" Rett asked. "This man won't compete with the woman's memories?"

She shook her head. "It gets in the way, you see. She...she can't be physical because of the past.... He wants that barrier gone."

"Because he wants her to be physical?"

"He wants them to be able to fully express how they feel with one another," she corrected.

"That sounds rather selfish," Rett said introspectively.

Instead of lashing out defensively, Lyrr accepted his opinion with a nod. "She's not ready for that," she admitted. "And it's one of the reasons he wants her to see a counsellor.... But it might be the right thing for her. She needs to let go."

"No no," Rett said gently. "It seems selfish of him."

Lyrr smiled uncertainly. "Really? But...you don't think it's time for her to let go of the past?"

"I don't think anyone should let go of anything just to please someone else," Rett said simply. "For all the grief and pain it brought and brings me, I treasure my memories of my own past. I will not deny my past solely because someone says I should." It was unnerving how he could speak so calmly.

"But it was such a horrendous past," Lyrr insisted. "The nightmares...the guilt... How can that be healthy...for anyone?"

Rett thought a moment before speaking. "If this hypothetical woman truly wishes to move on from her horrid past, she should. Certainly. If, however," he held up a single finger, "she is being pressured to move past it, she should get away from the pressure first. Until she is truly ready to let go, she won't, no matter how much the people around her wish her to."

"Yeah..." Lyrr nodded pensively, for it was the same thing she had told herself. "The trouble is...what if she's not ready to lose him either? How does one reconcile the two?"

"If, as you say, she isn't ready for intimacy, then he needs to accept that and stop pushing. Far too many men push far too many women into premature intimacy. If he truly cares for her, he can wait."

"But he says that he does care for me," Lyrr told him, dropping the pretense in favour of forthrightness. Rett's eyebrows twitched slightly at the admission, but he said nothing. "And I believe he's telling the truth. It's just..." She sighed. "The things he does... He says we can take our time, but he insists on doing things that indicate otherwise, like slipping into bed without clothes on, or giving me gifts that obligate me to get intimate. He says he loves me...but is that enough to keep his desires at bay for my sake?"

Rett smiled a faraway smile. "Let me tell you a secret about men. To many men, love and sex are one and the same, when in fact they certainly are not. It is an old error, perpetuated for millennia, based on foolish notions of manliness and virility equaling strength. Many men never move past the idea, and many societies continue to propagate it. But that's neither here nor there," he waved and got more specific. "The Lieutenant Commander may well think that he loves you. He may say it repeatedly, every day. But thought, speech, and action must meet in order for anything to be truly genuine. If his words say one thing, but his actions say something else entirely..."

"So--" Lyrr swallowed hard and absently gazed down at the bracelet peeking out from beneath her sleeve, the one Ben had given her as a sign of devotion. "Are you implying that he may not truly love me?" she whispered. "That...his physical desires are clouding his feelings?" Lyrr's eyes found Rett's once more, and in them there was only disappointment and consternation. "Am I a fool for believing him?"

"No," Rett said encouragingly. "Just young. It is easy for the young to let physical intimacy cloud everything. Especially in a place like the Sulu."

She smiled wanly. "So I've heard.... But I'm not as naive as they are. I've been through more, I'd like to think I'm more knowledgeable than they." Lyrr frowned, adding, "And I'd also like to think I'm less susceptible to trickery as well. What reason would he have for manipulating me, Rett?" She appeared momentarily surprised at her lack of formality, and smiled tightly. "Sorry...you came to check my replicator, and I've forced you to listen to me ramble on. Not in your job description, right?"

"Operations makes sure the systems of the ship are running efficiently. The Personnel are a system," Rett said dryly. "As to manipulation, he's a man. And still comparatively young. You yourself have said he's pressuring you for sex. There it is."

Lyrr snorted. "I didn't-- I just feel guilty for leading him on sometimes, as he's said. And I guess we're reaching that stage in our relationship where sex is...well, it's just expected." She sighed deeply and hung her head to stare directly at her fidgeting hands. "I think," she muttered.

Rett watched her watch her hands for a time. When he spoke, it was gentle again. "On the estate where I worked, there was a gardener. His wife had a bit of an unfortunate history, gained before she met him, in which she contracted a sexual disease. She was young at the time, and ashamed, and hid it until it had done permanent damage. By the time she allowed herself to be treated, her," he paused, a little uncertain which word to use, "relevant nerve endings," he seemed satisfied with that and moved on, "were scarred into uselessness. She had no intimate sensation, and could derive no physical enjoyment from intimacy. I knew all this, because the gardener talked to me, and his wife talked to mine," he smiled at the memory.

Lyrr glanced up at him, and the look of fond reminiscence glittering in his eyes drew a smile to her own lips. He caught her staring and it seemed to pull him from his reverie.

"The point is," he came back to the present, "this gardener loved her more than anything. I asked him once how he handled the lack of intimacy in their relationship. He told me he didn't mind, because the one thing he wanted for her more than anything was that she never be ashamed again. He loved her enough to understand that devotion was greater than affection. He understood that love and sex are not the same thing. Sex should never be expected," he said, shaking his head.

"But not all men are like that, right? Some need it?" Lyrr sighed and her shoulders sank forward to evince her utter hopelessness. "I don't know if I'm ready for all this." Smiling weakly at Rett, she nodded, "Thank you for speaking with me. I imagine I'll have to figure it all out on my own."

"Ultimately, that's true," Rett nodded, his paternal smile returning as he rose from the table. "But, as I said, I'm always willing to listen."

"And you do it well." Grinning kindly, she rose as well. "Thank you...for everything. You put me at ease, Rett Charla. That is a difficult thing for anyone to accomplish."

"Then I will consider it one of my more notable achievements, Lyrr Tayla," he said, with just the right touch of humor. He shouldered his kit again, and waited patiently.

She smiled, and kept smiling as Rett remained with no sign of leaving. When the silence became awkward enough, Lyrr cleared her throat. "Crewman...is something wrong?"

"Not at all, Commander. Sir," he emphasized the honorific, and remained in place.

Lyrr nodded uncertainly, eyeing Rett queerly. "Crewman...what are you still doing here?" Beating him out on his reply, Lyrr's memory supplied her with the key piece of forgotten information that would explain his lingering presence. She chuckled and rolled her eyes at herself. "I'm sorry...you're dismissed, Crewman. Though, next time, will you remind me before I make myself appear foolish?"

"Indeed."

---

"Apology Before Breakfast"
by Natalia Druschev
and Ainsley Chambers

Location: USS Sulu, Deck 2
Stardate: 57908.15 07h05

***

Natalia Druschev strode down the corridor of deck two with a purpose. Mason Farrell had come to see her the day before, and she had been woken in the middle of the night again by troubling dreams. As she lay awake staring at the stars through the viewport of her room, she knew that she too had an apology to make.

She pressed the chime on Ainsley Chambers' quarters and waited. She was in uniform, hands clasped behind her, and her nervousness showing by the way she chewed on her bottom lip.

***

Ainsley put a hair elastic at the bottom of her braid and then headed out to the living area of her quarters. She had just enough time to eat her breakfast and then she had to head to her office to start the day.

Her waffles had just materialized when the door chime sounded. She placed her plate down on the table and walked towards the door. "Come in," she called.

When the door opened she was not happy to see the other woman standing there. "Lieutenant," she said with a little nod.

Natalia stood at the entry to Ainsley's quarters. "May I?" she asked. Her hands were clasped in front of her. She looked nervous. When Ainsley nodded she stepped in to allow the door to close.

"I'm here to apologise," she said simply. "I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was wrong."

Ainsley stood there for a moment, speechless. That was not what she had expected at all. She would not have thought Natalia was a person to ever admit she had been wrong. But as she looked at the taller woman's face she could tell that she was sincere. "Thank you," was the only thing she could think to say in response.

Natalia nodded. "Your advice was the right advice, Ainsley. Mason and I would never have worked out. He never cared about how I felt about anything - just himself and I guess I was selfish too. I don't need that. He came to apologise to me yesterday. I couldn't forgive him. I can't. But it made me realize that I needed to apologise to you." She looked down at her feet, uncomfortable. "I hope we can get past this...." She looked up at the blonde and shrugged.

Ainsley smiled encouragingly. "Of course we can." She still had her own doubts but couldn't live with herself if she didn't at least give it a try. And if she could be friends with Natalia it was more likely that she'd be able to spend time with Domenic and teach him all the things she had promised, with her blessings.

The older woman nodded and gave a tentative smile. "I'll let you finish getting ready for shift," she said. "Thanks, Ainsley."

She smiled in return. "You are welcome." She wanted to bring up Dom, but was feeling a little nervous about it. She had a feeling that Natalia would brush her off, and not want her to see her son.

Natalia turned to leave, but Ainsley stopped her by saying, "I actually wanted to talk to you about Domenic."

It stopped her before she could leave. Turning back she said, "What about Domenic?" Her tone was purely questioning - with that hint of worry parents get when their children's names are brought up by people of the medical and counselling profession.

"Nothing to be worried about," Ainsley answered. "I met up with him the other day and we had a talk. He told me how much he liked Risa and how he wanted to learn to surf." Now came the part that she hoped Natalia would agree to. "I know that there aren't really any kids around for him to hang around with so I offered to teach him how to SCUBA dive. I wanted to clear it with you, as he said that you hadn't let him go diving on Risa."

Natalia looked at her a little non-plussed for a moment. Then she smiled and nodded. It explained a few things. She looked away, not being able to hide the wide grin that spread across her face. She shook her head and laughed. "So...you steal both of the men in my life." She looked back at Ainsley and the expression on her face wasn't one of anger just humour. "Dom has been wearing a silly grin for two days and wouldn't tell my why. Now I know. I think my son has a crush on you."

"A crush..." Ainsley said, a little confused. "I didn't... I never..." She stopped talking for a moment. She hadn't realized that Dom was getting a crush. But now that she thought back to what had happened she could see all the signs. "I hadn't noticed," she finished lamely.

"It seems you are irresistible, my dear," Natalia laughed. "You can take him diving," she said. "I trust that you will look after him - and he can't get hurt in a holodeck anyway - unless it's his heart that you break."

Ainsley smiled. "I'll try not to."

"I'm sure." She smiled as she nodded. With that she made an exit from the Ensign's quarters, leaving her alone to contemplate how she was going to handle a nine year old's infatuation. It didn't bother her that Domenic might get hurt - he was nine, he'd have a long life to get used to it. Ainsley was harmless; she was in for a fall anyway, knowing Farrell.

---

"Getting the Sickening Sweet Taste Out of Her Mouth"
by: Ensign Andrea Collins

Location: USS Sulu, Cargo Bay One
Stardate: 57908.16, 07h45

***

It was a few hours before she was supposed to go on duty. She'd had time and now she was going to do what she could to erase the memory of the tears she'd shed 11 days ago. How stupid could you be, letting your guard down like that, and to a perfect stranger?

She set up her program in the holodeck and set it to level four. Not too easy, but not quite that hard either. She hated having to depend on these things to keep her not only in good physical shape, but so she wouldn't get soft either. A crack appeared in her demeanor, and now she was going to try and patch it up.

Why, so someone can try and tear it down again?

Of course not, now shut up so I don't get distracted.

The first creature came at her with a wicked looking blade. The one in her own hands was the same one that had killed the Ambassador on Risa. She'd had it returned once she'd been cleared and the right killer had been brought to justice. She took a swing at the creature and smirked as it screamed in pain. She took another swing without letting him have a chance and before he could do much of anything, she'd 'killed' him.

I'm not here to be social. And whatever I told Farrell, I take out my 'killing' instinct in the holodeck. Always have, always will.

She stood there, breathing hard. She called out, "Computer, load Collins four point three three." The scene changed to be an old twentieth century Earth Gym. She moved over and began taking on the weights. She could lift about 110 pounds with her arms, and about 75 - 80 pounds with her legs. And along with the program she just finished, she also had a track program that she used to run on. Those were the extent of her holodeck programs. Just the three. She didn't use any of the actual gym facilities because she would have to wear her workout clothes and doing that in the public gym wasn't her idea of a good time.

The computer pinged at her some moments later letting her know it was nearly time for her to leave. She ended the program only after she'd changed into her civilian clothes. Long pants, a shirt and jacket and boots. She only wore the dresses if she planned on having fun. This wasn't her idea of fun. It was to keep her in shape and that was all...

---

"Cleavage of Bones"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Cargo Bay One
Stardate: 57908.16, 07h45

***

Once the cargo bay doors noisily parted for Damhnait Sefton's approach, she caught sight of Lieutenant Tagliesh circling the stacked-high storage containers that contained lifeform remains from JJ324c. Having expected the cargo bay to be empty, the professional even-tempered composure that Damhnait had carefully constructed, before leaving her quarters, fell apart in a single heavy sigh. By the time the doors had closed behind her, though, she had managed to nearly piece it back together.

"Good morning," Damhnait said, sounding vaguely like a question.

The auburn-haired science officer looked up, and compulsively tapped her datapad against her open palm as she approached Damhnait. "We've got a lot to sort through," Xayella said, jumping right to business. "I suggest we examine a single sample collected from each area first, then narrow our focus depending on what we find." She halted before the taller woman, studied her briefly with some scrutiny, then extended a hand. "Lieutenant Tagliesh, by the way. We were on the Away Team together, unless you've forgotten...."

"I know who you are," Damhnait stated pointedly, refusing to be condescended to. She took Xayella's hand only briefly, and recoiled her hand to lift her own PADD from her tricorder holster. Offering a charming smile then, Sefton mildly enthused, "And those were my thoughts exactly for selecting bodies to be brought to Sickbay."

"Ah." Xayella nodded appraisingly at the woman, and smiled. "Finally, I meet someone on this ship who isn't incompetent. It's a pleasure, Dr. Sefton."

"We'll see..." Damhnait said entirely seriously, with only a hint of a smirk to suggest she might be teasing. She strode past Tagliesh to examine the identifying markers of the nearest containers, but was stopped by a worrisome thought. Cocking her head to look back over her shoulder, Damhnait asked, "How serious an epidemic has incompetence been on the Sulu?"

"I have high standards," Xay explained. "But even so...it'll be this ship's downfall; I'm sure of it." Experiencing a jarring shift in demeanour from sardonic to almost cheerful, Xayella followed Damhnait. "I hear the medical department has an acute case of it," she went on, grinning. "Taken any measures to cure that yet, Doctor?"

"I hear rumours are believed by those who are too lazy or simple-minded to gather first-hand information for themselves," Damhnait responded, grinning back. "Now, when was the last time you were in Sickbay? Dorvali...?"

Xay snorted at her question, while the duty-oriented section of her brain unconsciously lifted her hand to point randomly at a container. "I don't need to be in sickbay to know what goes on," she reminded Damhnait. "There's always a grain of truth in rumour; that there are rumours at all indicates there's something going on interesting enough to be gossiped about."

"Then that would mean it's true that the scientists you are going to ask me to trust to examine humanoid remains have" -- Damhnait paused to begin counting them off on her fingers -- "terrorised one another with immature chemistry pranks, declared themselves Deputy Science Chief the nano you've so much as step out of the lab, verbally attacked counsellors, slapped their colleagues, created mysterious holes in consoles, and incorrectly catalogued and organised an entire laboratory of experiments and equipment?"

Xay chuckled dryly and pivoted on her heel to face the doctor. "I'm not asking you to trust them," she told her in a condescending sing-song, "and I'm not even asking you to trust me. All I am saying is that you have no choice in the matter." With a smile almost passable as sweet, she said, "But if it makes you feel any better...you get to pick the first container."

"I picked all of my containers," Sefton matter-of-factly informed Tagliesh. She held up her PADD for Xayella to see the screen, and then tossed it to her.

After catching it with a scowl in the doctor's direction, Xay turned the PADD upright and scrolled through it briefly. With an airy sigh, she strode past Damhnait, lazily flicking the device back to her. "Very well...let's get this over with."

Sefton caught the PADD and considered it silently for a moment. "Are you sure it doesn't conflict with your list? I am not unreasonable, you know," Damhnait offered saccharinely.

Xayella's response was an abrupt, skeptical 'ha!' "I'm sure you are, Doctor...just like the rest of the stubborn, headstrong women aboard this ship. Though, if you're saying you'd rather I lead this assignment...."

"I suspected you would want to run a tandem investigation of your own, but since you understand that humanoid remains are best examined in Sickbay, you and your team are perfectly welcome to join us," Sefton offered.

"Sickbay?" Xayella gave a laugh of disbelief. "Don't you think the science labs would be a much better place to analyze specimens, Doctor? We're not dealing with dead bodies; these are bones and are a little more the science department's area of expertise." She drummed her fingers atop one of the containers as she wheeled around to face Damhnait. "So, why don't you and your people come down to the labs, and we can analyze these samples together, hm?"

"These are not samples of calcium that have been mined from the planet; they are humanoid remains that will be treated with a modicum of respect. You have obviously not been to Sickbay during my tenure on board if you don't trust the Life Science Facilities, but you are right in thinking a wide range of ship's resources would be best allocated to my investigation," Sefton acquiesced. Calling up her plan of action on her PADD, she quickly highlighted the sections of it that would be most suitable for traditional Science Lab study. Politely handing the PADD over to Tagliesh, Damhnait facetiously asked, "Do you approve?"

Xayella's nose turned up more steeply the longer she read through the abbreviated portion of text, then sighed in disgust and thrust it back towards the doctor. "Soil and mineral samples? Are you serious? That's hardly appropriate for a scientist of my caliber. I want my hands on those bones, Doctor. Which means you're not getting rid of me that easily." She shrugged and smiled confidently. "I say we work together, while I have my scientists do the boring stuff...like categorizing microbial samples. What do you say?"

"You were always welcome to join the main study of the remains," Damhnait assured her genuinely. "You will see that Sickbay is a more-than-adequate tool to study these people; it has operating rooms that have never been used, private examination rooms that are simply a luxury and, of course, the morgue."

"Well, what about the body?" Xay asked with arms folded haughtily over her chest. "Who gets to examine that?"

Barely suppressing an eye-roll at Xayella's continued dramatics, Damhnait declared, "As Chiefs of Science and Medical, it will be examined by you and I, obviously. It is our first action to be undertaken."

Xayella's smile expressed satisfaction and triumph. "Very good. Once we select the specimens for study by our lackeys," she quipped, "we can get right on that." Humming a jovial, airy tune, Xayella sauntered towards the next container. "I hope the rest of our collaboration is as pleasurable as this has been," Xayella called back, though it was difficult to tell if the comment was sincere or rife with sarcasm.

"That is very likely not to happen, I'm afraid," Damhnait said with genuine disappointment, as she eyed the containers' identifications and compared them with the specimen manifest on her PADD. "It's not as if either of us are ever going to conduct investigations by precise, congruous Starfleet standards."

"What does it matter as long as we uncover answers?" Xayella replied. "Starfleet's standards are too high to begin with, and the best officers never adhere to protocol, I've always thought."

"But how likely is it that each of our personal protocols will be congruous?" Damhnait asked, hitting the crux of her thought. Sounding almost fatalistic, she concluded, "We are going to trample all over one another."

Xay tossed a chuckle over her shoulder at Damhnait. "That's the fun part, Doctor, or don't you like a challenge?"

"I'm not worried about a challenge; I'm simply worried that incongruous views could lead either of us to misuse, say, rank" -- Damhnait gestured to her collar, and then to Tagliesh -- "or...other advantages."

"Like my choice of bedfellows," Xay surmised. "Oh, Doctor," she drawled, "you're not threatened by that are you? I would never use my relationship with the captain to get my way." She grinned at Damhnait and added slyly, "I already get that with him."

"You're sleeping with the Captain?" Damhnait asked with quite obviously faux surprise. "I was speaking of your sparkling personality."

Xay smirked. "I guess we both have that in common, now don't we?" Chuckling dryly, she spun on her heel once they reached the final container in the row and gestured languidly at the specimens. "I say ten in total to begin with, then we can increase our sample size as we discussed before. Now, did you want to transport these containers to the sickbay by sheer force of your biting wit, or shall we comm someone to transport them?" Xay's smile was facetious and at once derisive.

"You can take charge of the manual labour, since I know you're simply dying to take orders from me. I should be in Sickbay," Sefton responded in the haughty tone Xayella had owned just a short while earlier.

"Labour as in tapping my commbadge and ordering a team of burly men to come and haul them away?" Xayella flashed her teeth at Damhnait in a near vicious smile. "Oh, I think I can manage that." Waving cutely with her fingers, Xay said, "See you soon, Doctor. I simply can't wait."

---

"Relationship Autopsies"
by Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
Ensign Annikafiore Szerda - Nurse [NPC]
and Petty Officer 3rd Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astrometrics Technician

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay and Science Lab 4
Stardate: 57908.16, 07h55

***

"Looks like all my years of studying to be a Science Officer have paid off for my nursely duties," Cristobel remarked, jerking his brushed chrome mug of liathghorm tea towards the 57908.16-specific duty roster scrolling down the LCARS display in Sickbay's break room. Cristobel had been assigned to assist Corran Quezith in an investigation of JJ324c skeletal remains. While Corran wasn't yet licensed to practice Medicine in the Federation, he had already been widely accepted, even at the Daystrom Institute itself, as a respected Scientist.

Cristobel sheepishly remarked to Annikafiore Szerda, who sat across from him, "That leaves you to practice behaving civilly to Amy Reese and Raina Derrell in Main Sickbay."

"I'm just glad it's you working with the skeletons rather than Amy," Annikafiore insisted, possessing very little interest in any further personal contact with the skeletal remains. "It wouldn't have been pretty if someone had to give Amy 'The Talk' about how she's not allowed to take home free samples."

Using a chiding tone to express his entire message, Cristobel merely said his nickname for Annikafiore, "Flow-er."

"What? It's not 'cheating on your boyfriend' if the new guy isn't breathing," Annikafiore blunted entirely matter-of-factly.

"You're terrible. You're very terrible," Cristobel chided some more, trying not to smirk.

"And your mother's not close enough to be eavesdropping for once, and you're certainly not going to repeat what I said, and so it's almost not really gossip since it'll die in this room," Annika said in a self-congratulatory fashion.

Pondering Annika's earlier words, Cristobel had to ask, "Have you ever done breathplay to use that loophole with your own boyfriends?"

"Just a little," Annikafiore whisperingly admitted, scrunching her nose, and holding up her index finger and thumb positioned close together.

In the background, Amy Reese made her entrance into the backroom, and halted. Cris and Annika were talking, very animatedly, but it wasn't in the usual catfight manner. She watched them warily as she headed silently for the replicator, making every attempt to avoid drawing attention to herself. As she muttered a request for coffee, her eyes narrowed with increasing suspicion. They were behaving almost civilly, and Annika...she almost appeared content speaking with Cris. Or, was it gossip, no doubt about herself, the Sickbay castoff?

Her eyes glazed over at the sight of her former best friend socializing with her nemesis, one they had disparaged together at one time. As her mug fully materialized, Amy hastily reached for it, needing to desperately escape the scene mocking her. The mug tipped as her hand knocked it, and the ensuing clatter of it hitting the replicator alcove, combined with the trickle of hot coffee spilling over the edge drew the attention to herself she had attempted to avoid. Both Annika and Cris turned, eyebrows raised in mirroring expressions of curiousity as they regarded her. Amy suppressed a sob, though the trembling tears welling in her eyes threatened to give her away. With a barely audible whimper Amy swung around and fled from the room, leaving Cris and Annika quite perplexed and slightly irritated.

"Bliss," Cristobel muttered sarcastically. "You have that to look forward to all shift."

Cocking an eyebrow amusedly, Annika said, "I don't even have to spread rumours or insult Amy to her face anymore. I just give her a look, and she cries."

Cristobel offered a sour smile, and wandered his eyes over to the spilled coffee. Calling out to the communications grid, he stated, "Sefton to Moreau. You up for some daytripping out of Astrometrics?"

There was the slightest of pauses while Shyla presumably got permission."On my way, sir." The 'sir' had a smile in it.

***

"...and she starts crying over her spilled coffee, which isn't even a metaphor for my talking to Annika, but is literally spilled coffee all over the replicator and carpet. How am I supposed to deal with that? It's not like many of the few remaining nurses or medtechs will talk to me, since they think anything that comes into my ears is beamed directly into my mother's head. I mean, dhia it seems that now I have matching best friends. Petty Officer Shyla Moreau and Petty Bitch Amy Reese," Cristobel explained relentlessly, as he strode down the sparsely populated deck thirteen towards science lab four.

"I feel bad for her," Shyla said softly. Had this been a conversation with a human friend, Shyla might have only nodded and made the occasional non-committal comment but there could be none of that with Cris. Not anymore.

Taking a moment to put aside his previous stream of consciousness and to reign in his puzzlement over Shyla's response, Cristobel, with genuine curiosity, asked, "Why bad?"

"Amy is troubled," Shyla explained. "Even more so than we all might have guessed." She watched her feet for a moment as she walked down the corridor. "But I think she has a good heart and it must be horrible to live with those impulses." Shyla shrugged. "I feel bad for her."

"I used to feel bad for her," Cristobel affirmed, speaking softer. "I don't anymore. I suppose that scares me a little, because it's not as if it was a conscious choice; it just happened. Mostly, I just wish I could have my friend back - the way she was at Starbase 163. When I went home from cataloguing dead bodies all day yesterday, I tripped over my trysette, and I had to put it in a closet to stop thinking about not being able to talk to Amy or play with the Suluists, and then I found my Intruder Alert terrorist boots there in the closet - I don't even remember saving them - and that just got me thinking about Ethan, and I've hardly been able to identify what I'm feeling or why I'm feeling it ever since Ethan's memorial. I just shattered." Taking a deep breath, and sounding more optimistic, Cris continued, "But I eventually stopped crying, and glued myself together enough to get out of my quarters and be around strangers in the mess hall."

Shyla managed a wan smile, remembering how her own Intruder Alert boots had nearly destroyed her feet. It didn't seem possible that it was only a month and a half ago. It felt like long years.

"Cris," Shyla began, fighting herself away from a desire to talk about Ethan yet again. "I know that you never would have dug deep in my head, even if you hadn't been told not to do it..."

"Truly," Cris affirmed.

"...and I'm assuming that it's the same deal for all your friends, even Amy Polly Reese." Shyla continued walking but started gesturing with her hands while she spoke, like any good southerner. "But the way you describe it to me, sometimes it can't be helped...you just pick things up and I'm sure you've felt Amy's jumbled mind more times than you can count." She looked at him while they walked. "I mean...of the two of us, I'm the one developing some empathy for Amy but you're the one with the actual ability to be empathic." She shook her head sadly. "It's all backwards, Cris."

Feeling the catharsis of having organised his feelings into words and expressed them, Cristobel began to regret adding this added stress to Shyla's existing tall, steaming pile. Still softly, but now with some contriteness, Cristobel said, "I do empathise with how she's feeling, but that knowledge is worthless to me if Amy refuses to believe it. I should have just been supportive; it was foolish of me to try to convince her of what I sensed. All I ended up with were Friends of Amy who tssk tssk'ed me because I don't have the psychological background to evaluate those emotions, which is something I wasn't even trying to do."

"I'm not one of those people, Cris," Shyla stressed, even though Sefton already knew it. "You did the absolute right thing, without question. Hopefully, Amy will realize that." She examined Cris closely. "Would that even make a difference, at this point?"

Some colour drained from Cristobel's face, when he admitted, for the second time in so many days, "I genuinely do not know... She hit me. I don't know if I'm capable of for..."

The doors to science lab four whisked open for Cristobel and Shyla before they were within normal sensor range, causing Cris to quickly regain his alertness and composure, which was marked by a sudden intake of breath. He looked down at the names of the tools needed for the skeletal remain investigations, which were listed on the bronze PADD he'd forgotten was in his hand, and in a slightly cheerier voice, admitted, "I don't know where any of these are stored."

Shyla glanced at his list. "Me neither," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll help you." She wasn't just talking about finding forensic tools, made clear by her smile and her thoughts.

Giving Ensigns Prem and Howden a hello nod, Cristobel followed Shyla to the equipment storage locker furthest from the science officers. "How have you been doing?" he whispered, after the first panel slid away.

"I'm okay," she shrugged, keeping her voice low. "So far anyway. I'm still pretty early into my 'new life', so I think I'm still a little stunned." She was quiet a moment before she mock-brightened. "I am enjoying my new rank...I do so love throwing my weight around with the Crewmen. When I can still find one of the little buggers."

Cristobel snickered silently through a grin to Shyla, as she reached into the locker and pulled out a couple of hand-held scanners to place on their antigrav cart. Sounding the part of a bearer of bad news, Cristobel admitted, "I'm going to be working with Corran, and, alas, you're going to be assisting an officer, not a crewman, in the investigation of JJ324c remains." He consulted his PADD, since his mother hadn't known which Scientists had been assigned to the investigation when Cris had asked for Shyla to be assigned as a technician, and he dramatically winced as the name appeared on Science's updated roster. "You've already worked with him: V.D."

Shyla blinked once or twice innocently, trying to recall any crew with those initials but was drawing a blank until Cris's odd little smile cued her to the joke. Simultaneously, it dawned on her that V.D. had another meaning and that it sounded a lot like V.T., Ensign Chan's preferred moniker. Shyla blushed a dark crimson.

"Cris," she scolded. "That's a horrible nickname. I'm the one who locked down Astrometrics for hazardous material clean-up...what did he ever do to you?"

Considering it, as he retracted the panel of another equipment locker, Cristobel admitted, "I'm sorry. That wasn't exactly intentional. ...This time. It slipped out. Besides, he's probably having relations with Emma Summers by now, and, as I've heard, Emma is Amy's 'it's not cheating on your boyfriend if the new guy's not a boy' girlfriend. The nickname could very well be apt by now." The words had come out so quickly that Cristobel didn't grimace until he realised the gossip he'd spewed until seconds later. "Sorry. Some days I should just not talk. We should discuss work. Definitely. Bones and dead things."

Shyla took out a couple of forensic kits and dropped them on the cart, her face thoughtful. "I've never formally met Crewman Summers," Shyla said, recalling seeing her on several occasions. "It doesn't sound like you like her very much."

"Emma threatened to hurt a nurse, because she was less than pleasant to Amy," Cris sombrely explained at a hush, as he pressed the control to open the last equipment locker. It didn't respond, but when Cristobel pressed it again, the panel retracted.

"A nurse?" Shyla said, screwing up her face with incredulity. "She threatened to physically harm an officer?"

"That was my reaction," Cristobel enthused at a whisper, grabbing the base of a heavy analyser, and then a heavier one, from the locker.

"Well, the nurse --" Shyla began.

"Ensign Annikafiore Szerda," Cristobel said in a quick blurt, followed by a grimace at his less-than-helpfulness.

"-- Ensign Szerda can probably still make a report, if she's inclined." Shyla began doing her visual inspection of the equipment on the cart, shaking her head. "Threatening a superior officer cannot be tolerated in a command structure. Why wouldn't she report it?"

"Pride," Sefton asserted, taking a moment to close all of the equipment lockers. Wavering between understanding and confusion, he explained, "If she acknowledges the threat, she admits to being hurt. Besides, until Skirt Day, who would think that an officer would strike another over something as ephemeral as reputation?"

"That was officer-to-officer," Shyla pointed out. "Completely inappropriate to be sure but..." Shyla trailed off, unsure where to go with the thought. "I can't even imagine me threatening an officer. Even when I had my falling out with Ensign Farrell, I was completely respectful."

"And that's why everyone loves you," Cristobel beamed, as he wrapped his hands around the antigrav cart's handle and pushed it out of the science lab. With Shyla by his side, he conspiratorially told her, "Summers isn't exactly typical enlisted. Some of the other medtechs told me that she displayed fairly phenomenal first aid skills at Risa, and now," - Cristobel shrugged - "now she's a counsellor. Her records says she attended both the Academy and Medical School, but failed as an officer-in-training."

"That doesn't even make sense," Shyla said, shaking her head. "If you failed at the Academy, how would you get into Starfleet Medical?" Shyla looked down at the floor thoughtfully as they walked along. "Is it possible her record is incorrect?"

"Maybe," Cristobel shrugged again. "But the Gamma Quadrant isn't exactly the ideal place to be getting quick answers from Terra."

"No it isn't," Shyla agreed. "But if she continues this behavior, it might be worth taking the time." Shyla sighed heavily. "Sometimes I wish I had stayed at the Academy."

Cristobel's expression crumpled to a frown at not having known that, as they continued on their way to the turbolift. "I thought you were happy in your position...? You get to work with your baby, Astrometrics, but you still get out from time to time...like now, when there's a shortage of medical technicians, after that runabout followed us through the wormhole from DS9 to take away medical's overstaffing, and it sounds as if even more of our enlisted techs are being transferred to Science," Cristobel rambled.

"Oh, I am happy...mostly." Shyla frowned thoughtfully. "It's just that I don't always get the responsibilities I'd like. Lieutenant Tagliesh has been a little tougher to win over than Lieutenant Drudge."

"Have you been considering returning to Starfleet Academy?" Cristobel asked, his voice clearly bearing the weight of the prospect of Shyla leaving, as well as the prospect of his own leaving the Sulu to attend Starfleet Medical School.

"I'm not sure I'll have the time," Shyla said, favoring Cris with a sad smile. "It's going to be correspondence courses for me. Hopefully, I'll get a shot at a field commission...if not, maybe they'll at least make me an Acting Ensign."

Silence was Cristobel's only response for a moment; his stomach lurched violently - it was so easy to forget that Shyla's illness was terminal. He swallowed his frown and apology, though, to enthuse, "Maybe you'll make a discovery during this mission to warrant it."

"I just want to contribute," Shyla said with the slightest of shrugs. "I just know I'm capable of doing a lot more than I am now." She smiled back at him. "Not that poking around your musty old bones isn't 'a lot'...thanks for suggesting this, Cris. The change of pace should be nice."

Smiling again, as they stopped in the corridor to wait for a turbolift, Cris joked, "Occasionally, it does turn out that I do more on this ship than provide entertainment at parties."

"So I hear," Shyla said, joking back. The turbolift arrived. "And today I'll finally get to see it in action," Shyla overly-enthused just as the doors hissed open.

"Hunh," Cristobel sounded, once they stepped into the turbolift and the doors were about to close. Smirking playfully, Cris taunted, "I never expected you to be so enthused about seeing Corran and I in action."

Shyla blushed a dark enough crimson to delay her response but she was still smiling. "Why am I friends with you again, sir?" she asked facetiously just as the doors shut.

---

"Last Breath of Life Long Gone"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Morgue
Stardate: 57908.16, 08h35

***

Xayella frowned at the drab blue surgical gown Damhnait had insisted she wear and stubbornly folded both arms across her chest as she continued waiting. She was outside of the morgue, alone, while Dr. Sefton and medical technician Amaya Chen prepared for their autopsy of the bodies recovered from the planet. This was Xayella's first; she had no idea how squeamish she might become upon her first glimpse at the corpses, but the last thing she wanted was to be escorted out because of a fainting spell. She wanted her hands on those bodies and to be first to study the scientific marvels they might present...but only if Dr. Sefton would arrive.

Her communicator was trapped beneath her gown, but she preferred to castigate the woman in person at any rate, which was her intention as she whirled around to stalk through the sickbay. She nearly collided with the taller woman, who was now standing directly before her. Xayella harrumphed. "Those bodies aren't getting any fresher, Doctor. You think we could speed this up a bit?"

Sefton silently held her gaze on Xayella, her dark eyes revealing nothing. She let the time spent on silence answer Xayella's patronising question. Also clad in a surgical gown, but with her arms down by her sides, Damhnait cocked her head to the right and disinterestedly remarked, "I suppose the bodies are not getting any fresher. Entropy is remarkable that way." Damhnait reached out to press the biometric door control, and the morgue opened for them. "The video autopsy log will begin once we enter," Sefton informed, and stepped into the morgue ahead of the potentially squeamish Tagliesh.

She followed closely behind, bathed in the eerie blue light of the room's sterilization field. The door sealed and the three women were left alone, with the three bodies, each waiting in their separate compartments for examination. With Chen gathering equipment, Tagliesh and Sefton stopped side-by-side next to the first. Xayella smiled tightly at Damhnait and motioned for her to proceed. "No fresher," she whispered, "remember?"

Damhnait tapped the blunt end of her laser scalpel against the paper-thin, belying its surprisingly complex filtration system, facemask covering her nose and mouth. "Without yet knowing the cause of death, every precaution is essential," Sefton explained to the mask-less Tagliesh. Undoubtedly with a mocking pout behind her own mask, Damhnait added, "As unflattering and inconvenient as it might be."

Xayella sighed and followed Damhnait's sarcastic advice by retrieving the mask from her pocket. Putting safety before beauty was a difficult concept for her, but she placed on the mask and did so at any rate. She nodded for Damhnait to drop the first slab.

With a single tap of a control, the wall-panel lowered as a drawbridge would, whirring ominously until it hung horizontal to the wall. The corpse was covered from neck to toe-tag in a sensor weave, as it rode the slab that slid out of the compartment to rest atop the lowered wall-panel. "The external autopsy has already been completed," Damhnait announced. Tapping another series of controls, the consoles lining the upper half of the wall lit up with sensor composites of the body's exterior and interior appearance. Additional images flanked the central two, focusing on every mole and minor epidermal wound. Finally, the corpse's body itself was revealed, as the sensor weave fully retracted.

Instead of revulsion or nausea, Xayella was struck with curiousity as her scientific interest kicked in. "Hm," was her only comment.

For the most part, the alien was humanoid in appearance, save for two important features. The man was fit, and his body showing signs of rigor, but otherwise minimally decomposed, save for patches of discolouration marring the otherwise pale flesh where decay had begun. She passed both eyes slowly upwards, processing every minute morphological variation, including the absence of external ears, and the bony ridge running from the tip of his nose, up towards the back of his skull. He was young, judging from human standards, and there was not a gray hair visible in his thick shock of dark hair to indicate otherwise.

Scrutinizing his face, its expression placid, her first impression was that he was a handsome man; it humanized the entire experience for her, and Xayella found herself no longer in the mood for sarcasm or games. Her focus was now fully on unlocking the mystery of their demise. She sighed, and her eyes dropped to below his waist, where one of the next glaring differences presented itself: where there should have been external genitalia, there was instead a nearly imperceptible opening. "Eversible intromittent organ?" she muttered to herself, then glanced to Damhnait.

Nodding her agreement, Damhnait manipulated the LCARS displayed sensor composite of the interior of the corpse to briefly focus on its reproductive organs, and then to return to its view of the entire internal composition of the body. Sefton had to smile at the fact that Tagliesh was turning out to be stronger than either of them had expected, but, of course, looking at the skin of a dead man was just the beginning of an autopsy. Holding up the largest standard model of laser scalpel, Sefton activated it to stab into the corpse's left shoulder and slice open the flesh in a calculated diagonal line towards the mid-chest, around where a Terran's xiphoid process would be. Damhnait methodologically sliced a similar gash from the right shoulder to where the first cut ended. She completed the Y-incision with a final line of flesh tearing apart at the touch of the scalpel's laser from the mid-chest to the pelvis.

Xayella chose to look away while the doctor opened up his torso, and monitored the air in the room to prepare herself for any foul odours that might rise; the room's air filtration system, however, did an admirable job of neutralizing any offal smells.

"I've never examined a human body before," she remarked offhand. "There were simulations, of course...but it just felt different altogether." She swallowed hard, and steeled herself for the moment she would be required to look upon the exposed organs. All she could do was will herself to liken it to any other scientific endeavour, except this one involved blood and other bodily fluids. The thought alone had her grimacing. "I'll just watch the monitors if you don't mind...."

"Understood," Damhnait responded evenly. She swallowed a catty remark that twisted Tagliesh's own words of 'I want my hands on those bones, Doctor' around upon her, to keep her focus on the matter at hand - or rather in hand, in the case of the flap of skin grasped in her gloved fist. With the skin flaps moved out of the way, Sefton took up a smaller laser scalpel and removed the body's larynx-equivalent, followed by the oesophagus-equivalent. She set each down on standard deep scanner-analysers, which cleared the master LCARS screen, to display visual and text results to the analyses.

Trying to keep her eyes focused on the LCARS, but being drawn to the wet sounds of internal organs hitting the stage of the scanner as Damhnait set them down, Xayella managed a glance at the visceral cavity. Instead of gagging and turning away, she frowned quizzically. "A four lobed lung? What else has he got in there?"

"A bladder where his heart should be..." Damhnait immediately replied with bewilderment. Severing it from the body, she reported aloud, "It is not even directly connected to the digestive system." Once she placed the bladder on the scanner, Sefton sliced samples off of each of the removed organs for more intrusive testing later. When the doctor returned to the body to remove the heart, Crewman Chen re-sterilized the scanner surfaces and carted away the organs for storage. The four lobed lungs then followed the man's heart atop the no-longer-sopping-with-blood scanners. Half-hoping to disgust her, and half-hoping its strange appearance outside a body would keep her scientific mind from retching, Damhnait pointed to the lungs that had so intrigued her, and offered Tagliesh, "Care for a closer look?"

Xayella raised a skeptical, uneasy eyebrow at Damhnait. "Just how close?" she asked.

"Close enough to see the discolouration," Sefton instructed. "I cannot be certain which colour is the healthy one, and which one is not, but I can tell you that we found something bad. Very bad."

Beneath her mask, Xayella frowned and overcame her infirmity to peer through the magnification probe. Deep within the tissue of the lung, occluding the bronchioles and clinging to the blood vessels were what Xayella could only categorize as microscopic organisms. She was too reluctant to speculate on what kind, nor was she an expert, but they appeared, on the surface, to bear all the characteristics of a viral pathogen. Xayella trembled slightly, fearful the entire away team had been infected, and straightened up slowly. "They--" She cleared her throat and looked directly at Sefton. "Maybe they're symbiotic organisms - it's possible, considering we know little about these people."

"Most-likely a parasitic symbiosis, considering the harm done to the lungs. Even so, the organisms might not be fatal, if any degree of mutualism exists in the relationship," Sefton supposed in a measured and muted tone of urgency. She gestured to Chen, and the medical technician brought Doctor Sefton the microtomographic analyser to more closely examine the microscopic organisms in the lungs. Damhnait's gaze went to the LCARS display to watch the initial results of the scan, and without looking to Tagliesh, she told her, "Once we have mapped the organism's structure, we will scan for it in one another."

She sighed, and whispered to Damhnait without Chen overhearing, "When I performed my analysis of the planet, there was nothing like this there. Could they just be a remnant?"

"The probability is high, since my own analysis did not discover this organism on the planet either," Damhnait responded in a similar tone. "All the same, we will check for it in the transporter logs and every member of the away teams."

"And the ship?" Xayella added. "If we've been infected, and these things are what exterminated the people on that planet, none of us are safe."

"First we determine if we have been infected," Damhnait told Xayella with a hard edge to her words that acted as an implicit, 'Get a hold of yourself, woman!' Sefton kept her unblinking eyes on Tagliesh, as she took up the medical tricorder from the rest of the tools set out for her.

Xayella sighed and nodded grudgingly. If the ship was infected, she was responsible. Taking up the tool, Xayella began her narrowed scan on the man's lungs. "You know, it could be that we're immune," Xayella mused. "His lymphatic, circulatory, nervous system...there are some significant differences from our physiology."

"Mm," was Damhnait's only response, already well-versed in the uniqueness of the species' physiology from the sensor scans. With a profile of the organism input to her tricorder, Sefton looked for its presence within Lieutenant Tagliesh. Once the tricorder chirped its assurances, Sefton told Xayella, "You're clean. Check me."

Xayella's sigh of relief was barely audible as she accepted the tricorder. With no emotion in her eyes, she passed the device over Sefton's torso numerous times to be certain. She paused over her chest, squinting slightly at the tricorder's screen, then relaxed and nodded at Damhnait. "You're fine. We'll need to scan the rest of the crew, but since we were the ones who first encountered the bodies on the planet, I imagine they're not at risk."

"Hopefully," Damhnait said tightly. "We have to compare the organism against the transporter's biofilter logs, and have the internal sensors flag any instance of it outside the morgue."

Xayella sighed deeply. "We should call a meeting with the captain. I think he'll be interested to hear all this, don't you?" Although her tone was sarcastic, the smile beneath her mask was grim.

"Of course," Sefton agreed, with a stipulation: "Once we know what 'all this' is."

"We'll find out," Xayella declared with fierce certainty. "I'm not resting until we do, especially if this thing is running rampant on this vessel." With a firm nod, Xayella strode for the door. "We can examine the others later, but I think we'll come to the same conclusions."

"I'll have the away teams examined and all of the previously collected data mined for instances of this organism. I would prefer to have facts for the Captain, rather than hypotheses," Sefton asserted. "Let me know when a meeting time has been decided upon."

Xayella paused in the doorway to acknowledge Damhnait with a, "Yes, Doctor," then sighed and slipped out. "Now," she muttered as she set out down the corridor, "how to tell the captain he just might have a virus loose on his ship...."

---

"Searching The Ruins"
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Crewman 1st Class Kaven Lucas [NPC] - Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu; Surface of planet JJ324c
Stardate: 57908.16, 08h40

***

Benedict stepped up to the transporter pad and nodded to the transporter chief. Crewman First Class Kaven Lucas was standing to Benedict's left. The tall Human was a dark skinned Maori. His facial tattoos covered his features in whorls and patterns traditional to folk from the New Zealander colonies. Kaven was a stern individual who took his duties seriously. Benedict liked him, though he was known to have a short temper which had gotten him into trouble before.

Alpha shift security detail and a few from Beta shift were being transported down to the planet to search the city for useful information. In teams of two the security officers were being beamed to likely locations for anything that may look like medical facilities, libraries, observatories or military installations. Benedict had ten teams of two, supplemented by staff from Operations and Science that had any security training, for the search.

Their job was to find these centers and tag them for follow up Science or Medical teams.

The transporter re-materialised them on the planet's surface. Benedict took out his tricorder for an initial reading on the beam-in site; Lucas did the same, making a slow turn to encompass the whole area. No life but insects - and those were rudimentary at best.

Both officers wore surface blacks - the SOB uniform that Benedict liked so much. He smiled to himself at some of the comments he'd heard about the uniform and his desire to wear it. "That way," he nodded down a wide street toward a three storey building that seemed to be a block of drab ferrocrete with three distinct rows of transparent panels that indicated floors.

He took out a pair of high powered binocs and zoomed in on the building. No movement, no sounds bar the wind and the grit being stirred by it along the streets. The rooftop showed antenna structures; just what he would expect.

They set off at a brisk walk. The sun was still low on the horizon and cast long shadows on the uneven paving on which they walked. Benedict was careful to avoid the remains that lay scattered in places, and he scanned the pictographs and icons that were at regular intervals along the way.

The weather was cooler than the previous day, but not so much as to be uncomfortable. Clouds were gathering to the west and it looked like it may rain later in the day. It was good to be on a planet's surface with wind in your face and sun on your back. The holodeck just didn't do justice.

Lucas walked on the opposite side of the street, keeping level and his eyes continually scanned the side streets and the alleys, rooftops and windows. It was a dead place. He wasn't the first officer from the Sulu to liken it to walking through a mass grave. He wondered what the people had been like and why they had died. It was a tragedy on a grand scale - a whole planet. Perhaps the Federation would send a colony here to investigate more thoroughly and maybe settle the place and bring new life.

Benedict felt the oppression of the place from the moment he beamed back. It was a lonely place. Sad. He kept thinking of the night with Tayla. He was tired, as he hadn't managed to sleep well at all. A couple of strong 'jinos and a pep-pill had worked wonders, but he wasn't refreshed. They hadn't said much to each other this morning. Benedict had been up at 05h00 and gone running in the holodeck, leaving Tayla still curled up in bed. He had left her a replicated rose next to her pillow and a note telling her he was beaming down.

He felt much better about their situation; he was going to relax and ease off. It was harder to do than to say. He wouldn't see her again until midnight. The shifts they were doing were giving them only a few hours a day together - mostly to sleep. He had promised Shirik a sparring session in the holodeck, so he'd arranged it for after shift - that had its own share of dangers.

They walked into the shadow of the building and Benedict noticed that there were ramps leading underground as well as a circular ramp leading to the roof that was accessed from the street. He gathered that it was a parking structure - so with the need for mass transit parking it meant they just might have scored well in their search.

Lucas nodded and through the open comm channel he said, "The roof, Boss, we can get a look at the communications array and have a high view?"

Benedict nodded. "Yeah, good choice. If it is a medical facility there may be facilities for a medevac by air transit up there."

They set off up the steep incline, getting their first higher perspective view of the city. Blocks of towers and structures extended for as far as they could see and a basic circular pattern could easily be discerned for the layout of the city proper. The five radial spokes seemed to delineate sections of the city that had differing structural appearances. In the distance there was several domed buildings with glare reflecting from the shiny metallic surfaces that looked like burnished gold. Minarets and spires were in that sector too and as Benedict looked through his binocs at that area, he zoomed in on what seemed to be a statue several stories tall.

It would take years to discover everything about this planet. Some lucky Federation Institute or university was about to get a nice surprise. Benedict was pretty sure that the Federation would consider this planet to be a sacred site for a long time to come. They would need to find out as much as possible about the ex-inhabitants before anything at all was decided about whether to form a colony here.

---

"The Fact Bone's Connected to the Hypothesis Bone"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Corran Quezith - Civilian Medical Trainee

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.16, 08h45

***

"Did you ever think your very first patient on the Sulu would be a dead patient?" Cristobel Sefton asked of Corran, who stood on the other side of the biobed, in one of Sickbay's operating rooms. The skeletal remains of a single JJ324c native, dubbed JA50N by Operations, lay on the biobed between them.

Corran eyed it rather unhappily. Though he'd gone through forensics, it was one part of medicine he had happily avoided at all costs. It figured that Damhnait would have him work on the one thing he couldn't kill...

Makes a guy wanna go back to his old job... He smirked to himself as he scanned over the body with his tricorder. Unbeknownst to anyone not in the room with them, or anyone not telepathic, he was also scanning the body telepathically. There was nothing of note, and 'the current' that came from it was normal.

Though, he's kind of cute, Corran pointed out quirkily.

I didn't know a guy's bone structure was so important to you, Cristobel telepathically shot back teasingly, with a cocked eyebrow. "You're going to have to talk verbally once we start recording the log," Cristobel informed Corran.

Oh joy... Corran pathed disdainfully. "Computer, record medical log for foreign body. Catalogue as JA50N..." He glanced at the body one more time as the tricorder finished compiling data from the bone structure, followed by an imaging scan of what the body should have looked like before. "Bones are very important, you should know that..." He wiggled his eyebrows at Cris suggestively, before looking downwards towards his waist. Technically not a bone, but...

"Computer, end recording and delete log," Cristobel ordered sharply. His voice softened and smirked at the absurdity of the sitch, but he pointed a finger at Corran each time he needed to make emphasis; "You are not starting your first medical log by talking about my penis. I assure you that, if you do, my mother will drop you to Beta shift. Or Gamma. And I hardly get to see you already."

"Aw shucks, here I thought I might just get a tranquil shift..." He winked at Cristobel teasingly, but cleared his throat to start again, "Restart medical log recording." He grinned naughtily at Cristobel, and went back to eyeing the scans before speaking, "Skeletal remains were found on the planet that the Sulu is currently studying. In appearance the being was a bipedal creature of medium height, some 1.70 meters. From the skeletal structure itself it can be concluded that there were protrusions through the elbows and knees..."

Think you'll find anything alive down there? I haven't heard anything about the away mission...

You'd probably like JJ324c; the only living forms to be found are plant life, Cristobel responded telepathically.

I've been tempted to reach out to the planet...don't know why I haven't, well, I do. My mind's busy here. He chuckled and shook his head to himself. It was good to be working again, even if it was on a dead patient. Are they taking scans of the plantlife? The arboretum could use some additions perhaps, and the database, moreso.

Sciences is all over the planet's fauna. Are you still glad you switched from Science to Medical? Cristobel taunted.

They wouldn't have let me down there either way. I don't qualify as military, and short of emergencies, I doubt I'll ever be allowed on these away missions to new places. He sighed mindfully as he took a scalpel and leaned in to take a sample from one of the bones. He wanted to run age tests.

"We're proceeding to scan a bone sample in the Meltoscen to ascertain the age of the body and how long it has been dead. By appearances though, I wouldn't say more than fifty years." He set the sample up in a petri dish and passed it over to Cristobel since the scanner was behind him.

"Computer, pause recording and delete the last twenty seconds," Cristobel ordered. Checking over his shoulders for the equipment lined up on a shelf, Cristobel consolingly offered Corran, "Good call on spotting the rough equivalent of a Meltoscen, but do remember that a 'Meltoscen' is Achicarian technology. Let's try it again, but this time, call it a bienic analyzer." Cris beamed, and handed back the bone sample. "Computer, continue recording log."

Corran repeated what he'd said with the correction, then flushed red in a rather sheepish way. He distracted himself by taking more scans of the body in front of him. Yipee...

You're doing fine. Better than fine. Splendiferous even, Cristobel mentally assured Corran. Nurse Sefton looked over to the wall console where the results of the bone scans were being displayed and combined. "You were right!" Cris blurted, a little too excitedly than the situation demanded. "Ahem; the bones are approximately forty-eight years old. Based on the computer's assumption of the species' skeletal life-cycle, these remains are closely consistent to that of a twenty-three year old." Cristobel's voice faltered momentarily at the twenty-three. His own age. Composure instantly regained, he continued, "Decay rates agree with a rough time of death placed approximately twenty-five years ago."

It's not you, don't let it distract you like that, Corran chided Cristobel for letting their bony patient make him think even for an instant about such concerns, but then he reached out for a tool to dig into the patient's rib cage. He'd seen, or felt something in there.

Any indications of cause of death in that scan? He hoped it would reveal something, but he had a feeling what he was extracting might help more to that end. Intuition.

"Cause of death still unknown," Cristobel reported aloud, as he took the new scraping and put it under the bienic analyzer. I am mostly managing to keep everything compartmentalised, Cristobel telepathically explained exasperatedly, but then I just start wondering what JA50N's real name was. And if he was happy. Or if he was in love. Or if he was lonely. Maybe he was depressed. Maybe he wanted to die. Maybe there was an afterlife awaiting him.

I think he died a lot faster than thought permitted. He moved over to the scanner with Cristobel, frowning quite visibly. It wasn't showing anything at all, although there were hints of physiological damage from strain, but not anything he'd seen before... "Pause recording."

"What is it?" Cristobel asked of Corran's command to the computer.

"I'm not even sure. It's not the cause of death, but I've never seen this before." He pointed at a region that showed up on the scanner, much like a river map going across the dried tissue. "It happened before death, in the very instant, but it's not along any blood vessels. There's no indication it's even originally part of the alien's body."

"Computer, resume recording," Cristobel blurted, each syllable on top of the other. He shot Corran a 'this is the sort of discovery we should be recording' look, and asked, "What do you suppose could have caused the markings that you noticed?"

"There're indications of strain in this particular segment of studied tissue suggesting the possibility that there was some form of internal tightening of his body, which scans don't suggest as being caused from outside in." Corran eyed Cris before returning to the body to try and scan for some kind of residue or abnormality that could've been the cause.

This is getting nowhere right now...we should get someone from sciences down here.

We should study all we can. Chen and Moreau from Science are investigating another skeleton next door, Cristobel telepathically responded. Besides, you are perfectly capable as a Science officer.

Corran smirked at that. He had originally boarded the Sulu with intentions of being part of the science staff after all...it was just that he still wasn't used to Starfleet technology, let alone research methods. Back home this kind of study would've been done by means of joined minds.

Just then Corran found a similarity between what he was seeing here with something he'd seen during his first missions back home.

"The stress marks could be a consequence of extra-sensorial manipulation. There are no indications otherwise towards body chemistry or some other form of violation that I can find right now."

Nodding as he looked over the latest results on the LCARS, Cristobel confirmed, "There's absolutely no sign of physical trauma to the skeletal structure."

Cause of death: it just died? Corran asked.

Cristobel cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at Corran, and blew a stream of air straight up to get a stray bang away from his eyes. After a moment of that look, he announced, "Current findings inconclusive. Computer, pause log." Then he quickly tapped his commbadge, "Sefton to Operations. We're done with J-A-5-0-N. Beam in T-R-A-C-3-Y at your convenience."

"Okay, mister frustrated face," Cristobel taunted with a scrunched up expression of exaggerated perplexity. He grabbed himself a fistful of the front of Corran's shirt, and dragged him into the scrub station. "We'll have more luck with the next one. ...But I need to get death out of my head for a minute. And I need a shower." Cristobel continued to drag Corran into the sonic shower that barely had room for one, content with the fact the sonics would be cleansing to his clothes and body in ways water wouldn't suffice.

After breathing out half a weary sigh, Cris jokingly spoke with the kind of charm normally exuded for distracting Corran out of the arboretum, even though all he suggested was, "How would you like to cook for me and watch me study tonight, before I have to report to my class in holosuite two?"

Corran made a face, his lips twisting up. "Is that supposed to be enjoyable?" Cris got too absorbed when he studied!

Cris's index finger found the collar of Corran's shirt and tugged it down a couple of inches. "I didn't say I was going to be studying a medical text..."

---

"Serendipity"
By Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: Planetside/Pantheon District
Stardate: 57908.16 09h00

***

The shapes of two humanoid forms shimmered into existence down on the desolate planet, both apparently humanoid. One wore the color gold on their collar, the other red. The gold collared Lieutenant of the pair withdrew her Type II Phaser, and held it at ready, prepared to face any dangers. She nodded to the red collared Ensign who withdrew his tricorder as the two began to make their way through the deserted town.

"Picking up anything unusual?" Gui asked, her voice was serious and calm, her gray eyes searched the vicinity as she and Vijay continued their exploration. It was so quiet the only noise was the slight breeze from the wind.

He answered with a formal, "No, Sir. Just our away teams." His device chirped as it homed in on their assigned objective, the purported museum; a structure that might answer some key questions about the sudden demise of this dead society.

Sanat kept his face impassive as he motioned to the southwest. How, and why the two of them had been paired together for this mission was a minor mystery given their volatile history together, however, he was determined to stay as professional as possible under these conditions.

The two didn't speak very much or little at all was spoken as they made their way to the southwest where the museum would be found. Nat wanted to make sure she remained the ever calm, and calculated professional and not as some brash hotheaded security officer.

After traveling down a few dusty and deserted streets, they came to a massive, but squat building with a large domed roof accentuated by a small spiral cone pointing upwards into a hazy skyline. Its arched doors were shut and there were no windows on the frontal facing of this drab gray structure.

It seemed to both officers that there was nothing readily apparent on the outside to tantalize the casual passerby inside for a peek...an odd happenstance for a place of cultural significance.

Stopping in front of the doors leading inside the museum Gui looked around before she shouldered the door open and drew her phaser to ready as she looked around searching for any volatile targets or unsuspecting predators. After scanning around the vicinity with her eyes she cocked her head to the side and nodded for Vijay to enter.

"There appears to be no immediate danger, I suggest we begin to look around and begin gathering information about what we can find here." Slipping her phaser back into its holster Gui brought out her tricorder and began to scan the surrounding area, looking for anything unusual or worth noting.

He swallowed a sarcastic comment as Nat muscled her way into the deserted building. So far, nothing living had registered on his scan of this area other than one away team about 900 meters away. Her caution appeared unjustified at this point in their investigation.

As they entered, Vijay noted that the ceiling of this building's dome was made in such a way to allow light to enter without mechanical or electrical means. He found it fascinating and studied the fixture for several seconds before realizing their team was on a timetable. There was still a lot of cataloging to do before returning to the ship.

"May I suggest we try proceeding down this main hall before searching the antechambers? It might help us find more clues that way."

Nathalie nodded in agreement. "Agreed."

As he turned one way and Gui another, Sanat's tricorder located a sizeable amount of electronic machinery in the rear of the hall. Looking up Vijay said, "There appears to be some equipment located over there."

Gui looked up as she tapped some controls on her tricorder to pick up on what Vijay's own tricorder was picking, definitely electronic equipment of some kind, perhaps heavy machinery? "Let's go have a look then, shall we?" Not waiting for a reply Gui walked down the hall, scanning and making notations on various artifacts she found lining the walls and tables. Having been heavily absorbed in taking notes, Nathalie did not notice the shifts in the floor tiles as they progressed across the hall.

The pilot followed, taking time to shift his tricorder's scan focus to the left and then the right to record everything in its proper position prior to retrieval. He remained quiet while working his way closer to Gui's location down the main hall.

Nathalie stopped as she looked down, suddenly noticing markings on the floor in the shapes of what appeared mythological creatures and animals surrounded by foreign textual markings. Kneeling down to take a better look at the tiles she lightly ran her fingers over one of the tiles, depicting what appeared to be a two headed serpent of some kind.

"These markings, are very unusual, almost like they follow a pattern of some kind..." Looking across the tiles she noticed there were at least three other different tiles; a type of bird, what looked to be some sort of sea creature and finally a beast resembling a dragon only it appeared to have feathers instead of scales.

Sanat bumped into her by mistake. He forced an impromptu apology, "Sorry, I didn't see you stop, Lieutenant." The tall officer knelt beside her to take a better look at the woman's reference point. "Yes, I believe you are correct, there seems to be a definite pattern."

Nat bit back a curse as Sanat stumbled into her. Mentally she reminded herself that they had a mission to complete, not engage in round three of verbal sparring.

Shifting her attentions back to the tiles she mused aloud, "A puzzle of some kind?" Standing, Nathalie tapped the controls on her tricorder as she walked to another tile and began to take notes on her tricorder. Proceeding to turn back to Vijay to suggest they continue exploring she stopped in midsentence, noticing the tiles were now shifting so that they interlocked together. A sound akin to a lock being opened followed and before Gui could ascertain what was happening both she and Vijay were thrust into darkness.

---

"Dispirited"
By: Captain Matthew Salinger
Dr. Damhnait Sefton
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Conference Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 09h10

***

Xayella couldn't hold Matt's gaze, and kept, instead, staring at her reflection on the conference room table's gleaming black surface. Across from her was Dr. Sefton, preparing her report to the captain, though if she was unlucky enough, Xayella would be the one to inform Matt that an alien pathogen had been allowed aboard his vessel. She sighed and shook her head imperceptibly at her mirrored self. Her arrogance and overconfidence might just be the death of this crew after all.

Matt regarded Xayella. He knew something was wrong as she continued to stare at herself from her reflection in the table. The tension in the air was palpable. Something was definitely wrong. He returned to his seat, settling into it at the head of the table, with Xayella and Dr. Sefton to either side of him. Finally, he sighed. "I take it from both of your expressions the news isn't good," he said. "So, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

It was quite clear that Xayella still had no words to explain what had happened, and the health of the crew was primarily of Doctor Sefton's concern, leaving the onus on her. Shipboard viruses weren't entirely new ground for Damhnait, and so she spoke evenly, when she said, "A viral pathogen from JJ324c was brought on board the Sulu. Thus far, we only know for certain that it is present in the morgue. It is not present in the atmosphere of the planet, but it was stored with the corpses in the faulty stasis chambers. The chambers have been contained within forcefields since they were loaded on the shuttle, the Sulu's internal sensors have not detected the pathogen within the ship's environmental systems, and the transporter logs contain no trace of the pathogen. The risk of infection is low, but we are currently examining all members of the away team. Examinations of the rest of the crew will follow."

Matt nodded his understanding. "I'll make sure science and operations work together to keep scanning the interior of the ship for the pathogen, just in case," he said. "We don't want this thing getting out. Schedule the examinations however you need to, and make certain the biofilters for the transporters are loaded to quarantine anyone beaming aboard. We should also set up a decontamination room in the shuttle bay, just to stay on the safe side. With the shipwide chaos and this, we don't need any accidents. Do you have any other information on what this pathogen actually does, other than wipe out the entire population of a planet?"

"It affects the respiratory system as far as we can tell," Xayella volunteered, and although her eyes were raised, they focused on Matt's shoulder rather than him. "I can only guess that it's transmitted by air. I'm going to have a team working with Dr. Sefton's staff to identify the organism and its function, just in case...."

"Good idea," Matt said. "Do you know if a hospital or other research facility has been found? Somewhere on the planet where they might have been studying the contagion? If it is possible to use some of their research, we might be able to learn more."

Shaking her head softly, Sefton explained her lack of answers, "Security has not yet cleared Medical or Science personnel to join the planetside teams."

"Yet, but it's perfectly safe for them?" Xayella snorted wryly and shook her head. "Captain, we need to go down there and we need to find some record of what this thing is. It exterminated an entire population. If it gets loose on this vessel..." She sighed, her point made.

Matt sighed. "Then get teams down there," he said. "If Commander T'Kal has a problem with that, send him directly to me."

"I want to be the first to know if you do discover a medical clinic, but the Science department can take over the search on the planet," Damhnait pleasantly offered Tagliesh. "I'll probably have to call off-shift officers down to Sickbay, just to stay atop of the investigations of yesterday's findings, and the crew examinations."

"I'll stay behind and help you study the pathogen," Xayella replied. "I'll organize teams to beam down to the planet as soon as I'm able." "It sounds like that's settled," Matt said. "If there's nothing else, let's get to work."

Xayella gratefully left her seat and headed for the doors. "I'll meet you in sickbay, Dr. Sefton," she told the woman as she passed.

Damhnait nodded her understanding, and once the doors shut behind Tagliesh, she gently asked the Captain, "...Have you done this before?"

Matt shook his head. "Nothing like this," he said. "I had a few scares during my posting on the Hood but nothing like this. No, this is new, unexplored territory for me."

"If it will make you feel better, you can always feel free to come down to Sickbay and pester me for results," Damhnait offered, along with a grinning wink, as she rose from her spot at the conference table. "As for Lieutenant Tagliesh..." Although it crossed her mind to report the Science Chief's inappropriate tirades, she simply told Matt, "Make sure she knows this isn't her fault."

"I'll do that," he said with a nod. "It's always hardest in a crisis like this to not lay blame on yourself. Keep me posted on your progress, Doctor. And, figure out how we can make this ship safe from that...before we end up like them..."

With a nod to the Captain, Sefton backed towards the exit, and instructed, "Captain's Quarantine Rule Number One: We won't end up like them. You have to believe that."

"I do believe it, Doctor," Matt said with a confident smile. "We've got a good crew, and we'll get through this and move on to the next marvelous wonder of the Gamma Quadrant. There's still far too much out here to see for it to all end now."

---

"Serendipity, Part Two"
By Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: Planetside/Pantheon District
Stardate: 57908.16 09h15

***

Shifting her attentions back to the tiles she mused aloud, "A puzzle of some kind?" Standing, Nathalie tapped the controls on her tricorder as she walked to another tile and began to take notes on her tricorder. Proceeding to turn back to Vijay to suggest they continue exploring she stopped in midsentence, noticing the tiles were now shifting so that they interlocked together. A sound akin to a lock being opened followed and before Gui could ascertain was happening both she and Vijay were thrust into darkness.

***

Roughly being dropped to her back, Nathalie's tricorder flew out of her hands as the floor gave way beneath, leading her down a long, dark, narrow chute at a very fast speed. Her body collided roughly with the narrow walls as she attempted to brace her fall on the way down, only seeming to impact every so often against the hard rock walls.

Just as soon as she was sliding down, Nat found herself falling into that akin of a watery grave. After falling into the water Nat's head hit hard on a stone outcropping of some kind. Coughing she pulled herself next to it in the knee-deep water, as she felt her eyes beginning to grow heavy.

He tried to grab onto something when the floor opened, but only succeeded in snatching handfuls of air. Sanat plummeted downward into the gloom below right behind Nathalie.

Being bounced and jostled in the dark does little for one's psyche; Vijay tumbled onto his side and then onto his back as the half Vulcan tried to slow his descent. He failed to significantly arrest his progress and as a result entered the pit just a few milliseconds after Nat.

Making a belly-flop splash an expert would envy, the pilot felt his right wrist snap and go numb as it struck something underneath the water. It took him a second of splashing around to stand up. As he managed to get his feet grounded beneath him, Sanat's eyes confirmed there was little, if any, light here to effectively see with.

"Nath...Lieutenant? Are you alright?"

"I...I don't know, I think so but my head hurts like Hell."

He winced while trying to move his hand. "I think my wrist is broken or very badly sprained."

Resting her head against the cool stone ledge of the chamber Nathalie fought to keep her eyes open, she felt so sleepy all of a sudden she wasn't sure why either. Shakily she stood to her feet as she attempted to look around, she had to at least find out where they were; they still had a mission to complete.

Sanat looked around and then said, "Please make some kind of noise for me to home in on your position." After Nat started humming a tune that he'd never heard before, the pilot clumsily worked his way over to where she was standing.

"Do you have your tricorder?"

"No, I lost it in the fall. Where's yours?"

"Hell if I know...I dropped it on the way down."

He reached up to tap his commbadge, but it wasn't there. Crap. "I've lost my commbadge too...do you still have yours?"

Raising her hand to tap her own commbadge, she too found hers was gone. "Damn, mine's gone too."

After a second, Sanat remembered something; he fumbled with his left hand and discovered to his relief it was still residing inside the utility pouch. He produced a small portable light and stated, "Okay, close your eyes if you want to keep from being temporarily blinded." The light flickered on and Vijay took a second to examine Gui looking for her injuries. Sanat quickly noticed the blood trickling down her face and prompted, "Are you feeling groggy?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine though...don't worry..." Moving forward Nathalie instantly felt a wave of dizziness wash over her and she grabbed Sanat's arm attempting to steady herself. Resting her head against his chest she remarked, "God, I feel so sleepy, maybe I, I should lie down..."

He let her rest against his chest without saying anything caustic. Resisting a powerful, suddenly emotional urge to wrap his arms protectively around her, Sanat said quietly, "No, no, you can't lie down now. I think you might have a concussion, Nathalie. We've got to find a way out of here so a doctor can take a look at you."

No sharp-witted remarks, not even one attempt at firing a cold retort at her? Was it possible that he was actually worried about her? "Yeah, you're probably right...." she stated softly. Forcing herself to attempt to stand on her own she shakily stood on her feet despite the throbbing pains in her head and side.

Swinging the light around he noted some skeletons lying about. And then some more; yet even more as he swiveled, illuminating the area immediately around them. It was not a good sign. He increased his arc to see what other surprises might await them. The pit as it so aptly seemed was muddy, dark, and wet, but there were a few stone stairs leading somewhere into the murk.

"Let's try and see where these lead to," the helmsman offered.

"Agreed, come on let's go." Nat stopped as she felt a sharp pain zip through her leg and she instead found herself clutching the wall for support. "My leg! God...it hurts...I'm no medical officer but I think I really injured it...in the fall..."

Sanat stopped and turned towards her. "Are you sure you can travel?" His facial expression was sympathetic although he fought hard to keep it from being that way. Her tendency towards ruggedness was something he admired in another woman not so long ago....

"If you mean by limping on one leg then yes..." she moaned, angry at herself for becoming partially immobilized. "Some Security Officer I am...how I'm supposed to prote-- look out for my crewmates if I can barely walk?"

He came closer towards her. In a controlled voice, Vijay said, "Well, it happens...you'll have to trust me." The pilot bent down and examined her leg. After noting the awkward angle she was holding it, he knew it was probably broken. "I'll need to set this and splint it before we try to go anywhere. It'll help lessen the pain."

Nodding, Nathalie reluctantly wrapped her arm around Sanat's neck, letting it dangle over his shoulder and used his body as a human crutch.

They stumbled to a set of stairs out of the muddy water. Sanat helped Gui sit down and situate her body in such a way that her back was resting against a wall while the injured leg laid braced on the stone floor.

Shivering, Nat rubbed her arms as she rested against the wall, her eyes were starting to feel droopy again. A little catnap wouldn't hurt her for the moment, would it? Her eyes fluttered briefly as Gui could feel the overwhelming urge to close her heavy eyelids return to her.

Vijay noticed her head dropping. "No! Nathalie, don't go to sleep on me! Talk to me! Tell me...why did you decide to leave Operations for Security?" He went over a skeleton with ragged clothes and proceeded to snap-off both femurs, or whatever the aliens might have called them. Taking an additional moment to tear some tattered cloth off of its departed wearer; Sanat wrapped both bones in enough fabric to secure them to Gui's broken leg.

He's right, Nat, stay awake... Nathalie forced her eyes to stay open as she glanced over in Sanat's direction briefly. "I felt I could do more if I was in Security; I'm a 2nd Degree Black Belt in Ishin-Ryu...got pretty good at it over the years." She gave a halfhearted chuckle before she continued. "Guess I wanted to put my two favorite interests to good usage."

As an afterthought, he grabbed two smaller bones for his throbbing wrist. Coming back over to where Nat was sitting and fighting sleep, Sanat laid everything down and then started working on his wrist. "That's interesting...with your martial skills, would you hesitate to kill someone?"

Shifting slightly, Gui helped Vijay as he tended to his broken bones. "It would depend on the situation. I doubt I would ever kill someone in cold blood, if it called for me to actually kill someone in say self-defense or to save another...I wouldn't hesitate."

"Ah. I guess I might react the same way given similar circumstances." It only took about three minutes to secure his hand and wrist, but they were excruciating ticks of the clock. With Nat holding the cloth, he tied the bones on both sides to provide a semblance of support. The pilot stood up and looked over his field splint.

Satisfied it would keep him from doing more damage to it by accident, he pointed at her leg. "This is going to hurt a little, but it'll help you move better while supporting the leg."

Nodding, Nathalie bit her lip and turned away so that she was not staring directly at Sanat. Brave a soul as she was one way or another Nat was none too found of being hurt or having her pride hurt.

Vijay kneeled onto the cold floor and gently put his left hand on her leg making sure to brace it against his right leg. Pulling suddenly, and with an amazing degree of precision coupled with the typical Vulcan strength passed down from his mother, he could feel the bone set properly back into place.

Trying not to let her know how much courage that took on his part, Sanat said softly, "Sorry. I know it hurts."

She squeezed her eyes shut tight as Vijay pulled her broken bone back into place. Tears fighting to get out, Nathalie blinked them back and managed a quiet nod to Sanat as he spoke to her. Fighting back the urge to spew out a fiery retort Nathalie instead found herself believing that Sanat did not intentionally want to hurt her.

He finished wrapping the cloth with Gui's help again in the prescribed manner that his academy first aid professor had once insisted upon. It took seven minutes of coordinated activity, however, Vijay finally tied the last knot and then stood up. Taking care to avoid grabbing her too roughly or in the wrong places, the pilot carefully assisted Nathalie to her feet.

"Okay, just lean against me and we'll try getting out of here."

Not wanting to argue and not having very much choice, Nat allowed Sanat to support her as they walked off. Trudging off into the murky depths, Nathalie walked with Sanat down the remaining stairs and noted that they continued further downward. Fumbling for her own light she shone it down, noting it led into a hall flooded by waist high water and into several chambers.

"Where do you think this leads? Further down or above ground?" she asked, looking over to Sanat.

---

"Out of Element"
by Ensign Vincent "V.T." Chan
and Petty Officer 3rd Class Shyla Lynn Moreau

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay Operation Room
Stardate: 57908.16, 09h41

***

Shyla Moreau adjusted the light over the biobed, shining the beam down on just some of the remains that had been brought from the surface. The young Petty Officer had taken the time to lay out the specimen's remains in proper fashion and had to fight tears the whole while. It was a skeleton of a child.

Shyla pulled the rolling tray closer with the equipment needed for the examination at her fingertips. She picked up a tricorder and began programming in forensic protocols, the only sound in the room being the beep of the tricorder keys and her own muffled heartbeat. It was so quiet, she actually startled when the door to the Operating Room hissed open.

Vincent rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the glaring white of the examination lamp. He saw Shyla, gave her a small smile and wave of acknowledgement and made his way to the biobed. He rubbed the small of his back as he went over to stand next to her. He had be cataloguing samples for the last half hour. He turned to her. "How are you? Sorry I'm late. The lieutenant's working me like a slave..." he said, pulling out his tricorder. It gave a soft series of beeps as he turned it on. He felt like a doctor pulling on rubber gloves as he said, "What have we here?"

"Don't you mean 'who,' sir?" Shyla asked, her face serious. She looked down at the remains. "Specimen A-9-R-1-L. Size and bone density suggests she was roughly equivalent to seven Terran years old. The skeleton is complete."

Vincent accepted the rebuke in silence before turning his eyes to the skeleton. He had to exert all of his control not to turn away in distaste. He had never really liked autopsies, and suddenly staring down at the remains of the child, that dislike was revived within him. Still, he rarely let emotion and personal feelings interfere with a job. He continued professionally, "Okay...Who? Do we have a cause of death? Anything abnormal?"

"She broke a finger once but it had healed completely so it happened before she died," Shyla said, indicating the bone to Ensign Chan. "Other than that, there's no sign of physical trauma to the skeletal structure. If it was a violent death, the damage was limited to the soft tissue, sir."

Vincent nodded to show he understood. It was going to be a hell of a tough job trying to figure out anything from this skeleton. It was simply too young. He looked down at the once-broken finger that Shyla had shown him. There were faint abrasions and marks on the bone to show it had broken and the lighter color of the new bone showing how it had healed. Vincent did a double take as he looked at the marks. "Shyla?"

"Aye, sir?"

"It seems to me as if that bone was broken cleanly... Notice the straight lines?" Vincent said, pointing to the light markings. "There's no evidence of the bone splintering or fracturing before the bone breaks. A normal breakage is quite messy and involves some more damage. This is too clean for my liking. Still I could be wrong..." Vincent said, frowning. He did not have the full medical experience of other officers, but he seemed pretty sure of this.

"Bones do break cleanly at times, sir," Shyla pointed out respectfully. "Are you suggesting it had something to do with her death?"

"I don't know... What I am suggesting however is that it appears that the break was a straight and clean one. Almost intentional..." Vincent paused and did some motions with his hands, holding his finger out, as he tried to work it out. "Yes...I think the break was done on purpose...well the nature of the break suggest it was done swiftly and professionally...with an intention for it to heal quickly. Most curious. Most curious."

Still Vincent had his doubts. Maybe he was right and had stumbled on something. Maybe he was just delusional. He voiced his thoughts. "Still I could be wrong. Someone with a medical background would do a better job than me. I'd rather send for extra testing than sitting here and guessing. What do you think, Shyla?"

"I'll make a note of it," Shyla said, doing just that on a PADD while Ensign Chan studied the finger bones of April. All was silent for a moment until the computer terminal near the biobed beeped. Shyla and Chan exchanged a look just before Moreau looked down to the readout. She perused the information in silence for several long heartbeats.

"What is it?" Vincent's voice lacked its usual humor as it broke the expectant silence.

"Doctor Sefton found a pathogen in the lungs of one of bodies," Shyla declared as she still looked at the readout. "They believe it's isolated and they're trying to identify it conclusively." She looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

Vincent read the readout, muttering the words that jumped out at him from the page. "Pathogen... Affects respiratory system...transmitted by air...micro-organism..."

Vincent let out a low sigh. This routine examination suddenly wasn't routine anymore. "Shyla, what do you think the chances are of the away teams or crew being infected?"

"I'm not medical," Shyla shrugged. "I'm sure they've evaluated the risk to the crew. At least it was found in one of the bodies that had been in a sealed container."

"Alright," Vincent began. "Shyla? Do you think the lieutenant would let us go down planetside for a closer look? Even though we're not medical?"

"We can ask," Shyla said with a furrowed brow. She looked at Ensign Chan. "Are you sure you're up for it, sir? You've already worked one shift."

Vincent rubbed his eyes and laughed. "It's that obvious?" He gave her a wink and, trying to keep the exhaustion from his voice, said, "I think I'm up to it... Besides I want to get a good look at the planet and see if I can take on this pathogen." Vincent noticed her furrowed look. "It's better than sitting up in orbit at least," he added, smiling. "What do you say, Shyla?"

"I'm all for it," Shyla said, smiling with some feigned enthusiasm. "Unless Lieutenant Tagliesh hates the idea...in that case, I knew nothing about it." She managed to grin at Vincent playfully.

He gave her a wink. "I'll take the blame. Don't you worry." He glanced again at the child's skeleton. Again the feeling of distaste and disgust built up inside him. He very much wanted this examination to be over and done with. "Is there anything else, Shyla? Or can I finally get some rest?"

"You're dismissed, sir," Shyla said, only allowing a small smile touch her lips.

Vincent gave her a mock salute. "Thank you, ma'am!"

Shyla gave a polite smile and put V.T.'s exit in her periphery. She regarded the skeleton of the child she called "April" both fondly and sadly. She took up the tricorder.

"Computer," she said softly, waiting for the answering chirp. "Begin recording medical log, catalogue subject as A-9-R-1-L." Moreau looked over the bones again with sad eyes. "Remains are of deceased humanoid female, roughly seven Terran years old. Length is 1.22 meters, weight of remains is 4.97 kilograms." Shyla scanned the skeleton, the whirling noise of the tricorder sounding loud in the silent room. "Bone density suggests subject was of a normal body weight for her age and sex." She swallowed hard. "Presumably a healthy little girl."

Hesitantly, Shyla moved the tricorder and her own face closer to the fingers. Her eyes took in the broken one, a small section whiter and newer than the other bone, and she considered Ensign Chan's concerns. She also let a single tear fall.

---

"It's All In The Math"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer
Ensign Kit Markham - Helm Officer
Ensign Kelzira Rax - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.16, 09h50

***

Natalia Druschev smiled as she scanned through the science department logs from Gamma shift. They hadn't been wasting time with the planetary samples that she had helped collect the previous day. Some of the remains were well preserved and by the looks of it primarily because most of the biological life had become extinct at the same time as the sapient population. What had killed them all had done a thorough job right down to insect and multicellular organism stages.

Protozoic life forms were still viable - and from there the evolutionary cycle had begun again. Without insects and the rest of the higher order food chain around, the remains had been un-spoiled by anything bar erosion and radiation. Dating the time of expiration had been relatively easy. It had happened approximately 25 to 30 years ago.

That meant ecologically the effects were still going to be felt for the next few centuries as whole species of plants would die out due to no insect pollen migrations or insect fertilization of the soils. The existing plants would be feeding on the remains of the life forms, but soon that would dry up completely and the soils would likely die unless a spontaneous rebirth occurred among the lower cellular lifeforms.

All Natalia really needed was a date.

She was happy. Excited was more the correct term. Natalia was an Astrophysicist - a mathematician. Numbers and physics theorems, new stellar phenomenon, all these things excited her. Soil and insects and dead things were on the far side of her sliding scale of interest. Basic science she could do - but maths she loved.

Okay, she mused and tapped on her terminal calling up the Sulu's sensor scans of the system and surrounding space to 40 light years. Using the main viewer in Science Lab two she created a graphical representation of the sphere of space with the star of Planet JJ324c central. Tapping on her interface she brought up several formulae and entered the data gained from the survey teams.

Several graphical representations began to emerge on the spatial map. Coloured spheres cut cross-sectioned, again with the planet as central point. She labelled each sphere, added the approximation from memory of the wave forms she needed and referenced it to the survey team archive.

She sat back and looked at it. A smile lit her face as the calculations appeared at the bottom of the view screen. A couple of hours was all it would take with a shuttle and a beefed up sensor array pod. She transferred the data to a padd.

"Computer, location of Lieutenant Saavar," she said in her Russian accent.

"Lieutenant Saavar is in his personal quarters," the computer replied in accentless Standard.

"Location of Lieutenant Tagliesh?" she tried the next senior officer, though she didn't want to go to her on this.

"Lieutenant Tagliesh is not aboard the Sulu."

She was on an away team then. She shrugged. The captain? A slow smile appeared. Natalia hadn't met Salinger yet - she'd missed him every time he'd been anywhere near science and she had been on the Bridge only a few times, and never when he was sitting in the chair. She made up her mind and strode out of the science lab and headed to the Bridge.

A few minutes later she stepped out onto the command deck of the Sulu. It was quiet efficiency, and in her skirted variant uniform, Natalia received a few glances from a couple of the officers. She smiled at them and stepped down toward the command well. Commander Lyrr glanced at her, and her eyes went to the skirt. Natalia thought she saw a slight unfavourable reaction on the woman's face but it was gone behind her command facade quickly enough. Natalia stood next to the command chair and waited patiently to be noticed, at ease with her padd clasped behind her back. She wore her hair up and intricately braided, just a few loose whorls by her ears to accentuate her long neck and a hint of color on her lips and eyes to bring out the blue.

Sensing the presence standing nearby, along with the shift in Lyrr's position, Matt realized they weren't alone. He turned to find Lieutenant Druschev standing there. He gave her a smile. "Lieutenant," he said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Natalia smiled warmly at the man in the command chair and also at Lyrr. He was handsome and he had very nice eyes. "Yes, sir. " She brought the padd she held in front of her and fidgeted with it. "The testing on some of the biosamples has given us a time frame for the event that wiped out the inhabitants of JJ324c." Her Russian accent was evident as she spoke, and she gave Salinger the benefit of a direct gaze and a smile while being as professional as she could. He was making her feel nervous for some reason. "We have a time frame of between twenty-five and thirty years. Given that reference point, and data on the initial technology level indicated by artifacts brought from the surface, particularly some scans of several communications arrays the survey teams have found, there should be an electromagnetic shell generated by their communications equipment, broadcasts and general electromagnetic activity that we could tap into." She held out her padd. "May I demonstrate on the viewer, sir?"

"Of course," Matt said, and gestured to the viewer, an indication she should continue.

Natalia tapped a sequence into the padd to interface it with the communications station on the Bridge. The Main View changed to the stellar map and the coloured spheres that she had constructed. A blinking band of blue that represented the mathematical positioning of the planetary electromagnetic shell as it continued to move through space away from JJ324c seemed to be the focus of the diagram.

"The blue band is the current position of the EM Shell," she said, pointing at the viewer. "Twenty-five to thirty years ago any electromagnetic radiation containing possible communication, broadcast openly or directly into space has reached this distance from the planet. Their technology wasn't sufficient for sub-space nor trans-light, and so it would most likely be radio waves, microwave or radar transmissions. Having a sample of their equipment, we know the wavelengths of their transmissions. A shuttle with a probe or sensor pod could reach this point in a few hours, sir." She turned to look at Salinger and Commander Lyrr. "We might well be able to see or hear for ourselves their last transmissions. Perhaps they even beamed a distress signal into space?" She smiled. "It's all in the math, sir."

The bubble of excitement was unavoidable, especially at the prospect of potentially hearing the words and music and other such sounds of this dead civilization. "It sounds like a very likely prospect," he said. "I take it you want permission to take a shuttle out to find where the transmissions are now." He glanced at Lyrr and then back to Druschev. "Permission, granted, Lieutenant."

Natalia beamed a smile at the captain, "Thank you, sir." The excitement was evident. "I'll require a pilot, sir. I'll get on it straight away." She was almost bouncing.

"Good," Matt said with a smile. "Ensign Markham's on bridge backup for flight control. Unless you want to roust one of the other pilots, I'm sure he'll be happy for the work."

"Ensign Markham will be just fine, sir," Natalia nodded, the smile not leaving her face. "Thank you, sir." She nodded thanks to Lyrr as well as she spun on her heel to leave the Bridge. As she walked up the steps to the rear of the Bridge she tapped her comm-badge. "Lieutenant Druschev to Ensign Markham."

"Ensign Markham here," came Kit's voice.

"We have an away team assignment, Ensign. Could you meet me in the shuttle bay right away?" The excitement was still in her voice and she couldn't stop smiling.

"On my way," Kit answered, and then cut the signal as he headed off for the shuttle bay.

As Natalia stepped into the turbo lift she tapped her badge again. "Lieutenant Druschev to Ensign Rax."

"This is Ensign Rax," Kelzira said into her communicator. "How can I help you, Lieutenant?"

"Ensign, we have an away team assignment. Please meet me in the shuttle bay. We'll take one of the Type Nine shuttles." Natalia was fully conversant with sensor systems, it had been one of her academy specializations and she kept up with the latest developments, and the Type Nine shuttle had the longest range, more comfort and could be piloted by a single person. They were also configured for deep scouting missions and would be ideal for the mission at hand. The Sulu carried four of them.

"On my way, sir," Rax answered.

A few minutes later Natalia strode in to the shuttle bay. Technicians were already warming up her shuttle, Taipan and she entered the small craft and began downloading the data she would need from astrometrics. She was busy with that as both of the officers she had requested entered the shuttle bay.

Kit Markham and Kelzira Rax entered the shuttle bay together, talking with low voices, but obviously animated. As they drew closer to the shuttle, Kit laughed. "Well, at least she was there to help with the lotion," he said. "Sounds like there's all sorts of trouble with showers and replicators lately."

"I'm just glad Amy's a nurse," Kelli said. "Though, I think after she helped me, Tchi could be too. Though, they laughed at my pink back."

"I can imagine," Kit said. "Though, I can imagine after Amy took care of the burn, Tchi made all the pain go away. It's amazing how affectionate she is now."

Kelli grinned. "I know," she said, her expression dreamy. "In all my lifetimes, I've never felt this happy and content with anyone. And, she's...she's beautiful and amazing."

Kit laughed. "It shows," he said. "Come on, we don't want to keep the lieutenant waiting."

With that, they hurried their pace and slipped into the shuttle where Natalia Druschev was finishing up with the data download. "Markham and Rax reporting for duty, sir," Kelzira said.

Natalia gave Kelzira a smile and nodded, and then her smile grew a little wider when she looked at Kit. "Kit... nice to see you again.." The last time she had seen him was in the arboretum and she had been crying. She turned and pointed at the graphical display on the science station. She had plotted the course for the mission and it was easy to see. "This where we're headed," she said. "We'll be trying to pick up transmission signals that left the planet twenty five to thirty years ago." She turned back to Rax, "There will be a lot of transmissions based on the technology, we'll just have to record as much as we can and attempt to clean it up and try to find relevant data."

Kelzira grinned as she looked over the data scrolling across the display. "Shouldn't be too difficult, especially with the computers doing most of the work," she said. "Unless they were sending so much data out the sensors couldn't pull it all in, and I haven't seen a less-advanced culture who could do that yet. How much time do we have for our information gathering mission, sir?"

"How long is a string variable?" Natalia grinned. "The captain didn't specify a time limit, though I'd imagine given distance and all of the variables...perhaps as much as a day." She shrugged. "We'll be in contact with the ship so I guess we play it by ear until he tells us to come back."

"Well, I got to say goodbye to Tchi before we left," Kelli said, "so it's alright." She glanced at Kit, and the blush that swept over his cheeks told her he'd said goodbye to Amy as well. "Naughty," she whispered, then moved to take her seat at one of the auxiliary stations.

Kit chuckled and took his place at the helm. "Buckle up, ladies," he said. "I'll keep the ride as smooth as possible, but I can't make any promises with this little bundle of warpiness."

---

"Serendipity, Part Three"
By Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: Planetside/Pantheon District
Stardate: 57908.16 10h00

***

"Where do you think this leads? Further down or above ground?" she asked, looking over to Sanat.

The pilot took a moment to study all the converging lines and angles of this primitive architecture before him. While it was true that he was no construction expert, his abilities to pilot the various shuttles and starships lent itself to certain inherent skills with regards to judging space, distance, attitude, altitude, etc.

"I'm afraid it leads downward." He glanced back to Nat, trying hard to keep his emotional facade in place. They were physically touching one another by necessity, but nonetheless, her closeness was providing an ample distraction regardless of their forced truce.

To break his spell, Sanat quickly pointed towards a chamber that appeared larger than the rest. It was further down the submerged hallway than others, but there looked to be some significant markings adorning the arch above it.

"Perhaps we should try that room there...I can see some markings around the portal leading in that are not prevalent anywhere else down here."

"Good idea, there's no telling what could be swimming around under water that deep though...how do we know if it's safe?" she asked, looking back over to Sanat.

Looking down at the water: "It doesn't appear to contain any organisms. But...it will be a little cool...if our swimming pool back there is any indication..." Vijay said with scant emotion. He could easily carry Nat above most of the cold water before them, but the half Vulcan surmised that the proud woman would most certainly reject his offer.

No matter how practical or imminently pleasurable it might be for both of them.

"We'll just have to wade across. Come on." Nathalie's hand tightened around Sanat's left hand as they stepped into the deep water. It was indeed cooler; she could feel her legs numb slightly from the cooler water as they slowly made their way over to the room. After trudging very carefully through the water the pair entered the room. Nathalie rested against Sanat, catching her breath and she felt an involuntary shiver run through her form. "Cold..."

"I know...hang in there, Nat...we're going make it." He unconsciously rubbed her back with his good hand to generate a little heat as he shone the light around inside the large room before them.

It was a fairly large chamber. He could see some odd symbols and writing on one wall, while there were some dark pictograms present on the other. And still other different symbols on the back wall. The lack of light lent an eerie feel to the darkened interior, however, there was a large platform in the back of the room, about 10 meters away from their present location. It loomed menacingly over them above the watery surface.

They worked closer to it through the cold water.

Sanat quietly asked Nathalie, "Do you think you can climb up on that?"

"I think so, I can't really tell if there's a foothold of some kind around it though," she replied, feeling around beneath the ledge for something she could use to pull herself atop it. "Give me a boost, I'll use your hand to step up onto the ledge."

"Okay. Here we go." The tall pilot bent down and placed his good hand under her foot as Nat used both of her arms as a lever to pick herself up to avoid standing on the broken leg.

Very carefully, after Nathalie pulled herself up onto the ledge, she reached down and helped Sanat get on the ledge next to her. Upon further examination Gui noticed they weren't on just a ledge unlike in the other chambers. This was, apparently...some kind of altar. But for what, sacrifices? "Sa-Vijay, there's more bodies in here. Look..." she stated, gesturing with her light to illuminate on some skeletons hunched next to each other. One lay on the ground with some sort of dagger clutched in its bony head, strangely no blood remained.

Looking around a bit more Gui also took notice of smaller markings carved in some sort of runic symbols around the altar's base. Squatting next to the altar she carefully shone her light on the markings, trying to make sense of what they might mean. "What do you make of this room? If I didn't know better I'd say it was some sort area used to perform rituals..."

Vijay grimaced. His first examination of the ledge-altar somehow missed the skeletons. He shuddered slightly, perhaps it was his damp clothing...then again, it could be what this room...this area might have been used for. "I think you're right...human sacrifices though? Do you think they were that barbaric?"

"It wouldn't surprise me, old Terran cultures were known to many, many years back sacrifice animals or sometimes people to appease their gods...." She glanced back over to Sanat before continuing. "Some of them would even go as far as placing booby traps inside their ruins or temples to trap those to be used in the next ritual."

Vijay scrunched up an eyebrow. "That would explain our current dilemma."

"Seems that way, in any case we should see if could find a way out of this room..."

The half Vulcan concurred, "Agreed. We're not getting any younger down here."

Rising to her feet Gui walked over to the wall and began to examine the markings carved within the stone. Inwardly she cursed for losing her tricorder so that she could not take notes on the symbols before her, as a linguist she had always dreamed of working with text such as this; it not only fascinated her, but challenged her too.

Skirting the skeletal remains, Sanat walked over to the pictograms and immediately regretted it. They were violent scenes of beasts, people and presumably, deities of some ghastly sort. And all of them were rending their victims (the people of this planet) to bits in macabre ceremonies. He looked back towards Nat trying to forget what was depicted here. "Any Luck?"

"Nothing yet, but so far I've noticed these markings are similar to those we saw upstairs upon coming into the building, I'm beginning to think there's a connection of some kind." She gestured with her hand to the symbol like that of a dragon with feathers instead of scales. Her fingers lightly brushed over it as she explained, "See this is not unlike the other symbols we saw before, there must be a pattern of some kind...I don't know where but..." Nathalie jumped back as the shape inset it self into the wall like a button when pressed. Shortly after the sound of stone scraping against the floor could be heard. At first Nat had thought she had activated yet another trap but upon closer examination she could see that the door she had opened had light wafting through in thin beams, leading down onto a worn set of slowly crumbling stairs.

Her heart leapt with joy at this discovery, if not for her battered leg she was certain she would have jumped into the air exclaiming her joy. "Sanat, we're saved! We're saved!!"

Throwing her arms around Vijay she gleefully hugged him as he did likewise. Still caught up in the moment, Nat pulled back slightly and kissed her Half-Vulcan companion.

Surprised, but not one to waste the moment, Vijay returned the kiss with a certain amount of relish. Possibly more than he would want to admit under normal circumstances given their record of verbally abusing one another.

Nat's eyes went wide as she realized what she did and she pulled back from Sanat...her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Uh...I...I think we should see where this leads...the...the stairs I mean! Don't you?" she managed to stutter out.

"Umm...yes, yes, of course," Vijay managed to stammer back with an equally embarrassed look. He slowly released her and motioned towards the door, "I believe we'd better...before the ship leaves us behind."

Nathalie nodded, face still flushed with embarrassment, and the two then made their way up the stairs together, grateful to finally leave the flooded chamber behind.

---

"Fox Guarding the Hen House"
By C1C Ken Smith
Crewman Ro Palil

Location: CIC Smith's Quarters, Transporter Room 1, Planet's Surface
Stardate 57908.16, 11h15

***

"Captain Smith, the Cardies are going to make a run for it," the red haired ops officer said in her normal high pitched tone.

"We'll show the lizards they picked the wrong convoy to raid." Three Hidekis and a Galor had jumped fifteen aid ships headed for Cardassian colonies in dire need since their government had collapsed and was still struggling for legitimacy. Ken had been reviewing award recommendations when the Kaneda had picked up the distress call from the K.G. Fraiser, a refit Miranda class tasked with escort duty, by the time they had gotten there the Fras had been left a floating hulk. Three of the aid ships were adrift also and now that the Galor had joined them the three Hide and peekies were running.

"I got a lock, sir, weapons standing by," the Tac Officer shouted over the din of red alert klaxons.

Standing from his chair in a rather dramatic stance, much like an old Federation hero did on many occasions he uttered the only phrase appropriate: "Fire" and brought his fist up.

Two of the patrol fighters evaporated in orange clouds, the third stopped dead, powered down and transmitted a white flag. Ken sat down and smiled. All in a day's work.

"Sir we have an incoming message."

"Put it on the main viewer."

"C1C Smith this is Crewman Ro Palil down in security, I am sorry to wake you but you have been ordered to report to the planet's surface for guard duty. You can join me, I am headed down in ten minutes if you hurry. If not you will have to wait until the next person needs a team mate. What shall I tell the commander?" the main viewer asked.

"Ensign is this some kind of joke? As the commanding officer of this ship I do not find it funny to have some one address me as C1C in front of the rest of the crew."

"Sorry, sir, let me see if I can fix the problem, Captain," the Comm officer said, adding a touch of sarcasm to his rank. When Captain Smith looked at the Ensign, preparing to give a dressing down he had morphed into the Ro.

Ahh shit, please tell me this is like one of those dreams where I am not wearing pants in class. He paused a moment. Nope, no such luck.

"Well, I will let it slide this time, Crewman," Ken said with a mock tone of self importance. "But next time I won't be so lenient." A large smile graced his face and he gave a quick wink.

"Thank you, sir." Ro was playing along with Ken.

"Well, I will be joining you, I suppose, just let me grab some gear and a stim patch. Transporter Room 1 you say.?"

"Yes."

"Good. See you there. C1C out." The screen went blank and Ken rolled out of bed. He had still been pulling rover on gamma shift but was scheduled for shift change to beta.

No time like the present to get the change going no matter how tired it might make me, he mused as he ran the laser shaver over his stubble. It wasn't too bad and he finished in a few minutes. He donned the SOB uniform and grabbed some camping gear from his closet. He remembered why he had kept the stuff now, in case he got assigned to ground patrol on an occupied world and ended up camping out. Sometimes Starfleet being a scientific effort first and a military one second meant you had to fend for yourself if you were part of a security or expeditionary unit. His old chief back on the moon had told him: 'Ken the best piece of advice I can give you is always keep a sleeping bag and camping gear packed and stacked in your barracks or quarters. You never know when some science officer will get a bug up their butt and have you traipsing all over some worthless dead rock looking for bugs. And Starfleet doesn't issue them, the backpacks not science officers with bugs up their butt, every security crewman and officer is issued three.'

Oh, chief, if you could see me now, he thought as he slapped a stim patch to his neck and with full pack made his way to the Transporter Room 1. He arrived with time to spare and was surprised to find Ro waiting for him. Both had a pack on their back and Ro handed him a Type 3 and a side arm belt with a Type 2. "Expecting Trouble?"

"No, Sir, just better safe than sorry," she said with a smile. Ken smiled back and regretted it a second later when she made a rather interesting face that could only mean one thing.

"Well let's not keep the dead waiting shall we?" Ken stepped onto the transporter pad as did Ro, who gave the order to energize.

They ended up at what was a LZ and Rendezvous point for those planet side in case of emergency. After checking in they humped the ½ mile to their post through the dead city. It gave Ken a tingly sensation up his spine; the sooner this mission ended the better. He checked the PADD they had handed him, the map showed where they were going and had a few scans and SAT pics so they knew when they found it. "It" was a four storey building with a large sign above it that proclaimed it to be something in large alien text. He didn't know what it said and neither did Ro, who had slung her rifle over her shoulder and had taken tricorder duty. She brought her rifle up after switching the Tricorder to her left hand. Ken put his PADD back in its easy to reach pouch on his pack and brought his rifle up also. They moved up the steps and into the building taking turns covering the other as they moved forward. Once inside they paused for Ro to take a scan. No life signs. They proceeded through the first level, checking offices and seeing what was laying about. They reached the second level and found more offices. The third held much larger offices, and the fourth had large meeting rooms, a small gym, and a cafeteria type area. They returned to the first level and checked in signaling the all clear for the building. No life found.

They dropped their packs in an area they were going to camp at. If it came to that. Ken opened up a ration bar and dug in. Many people complained about them but he found them more efficient and often ate them in private since it cut down on the time he had to spend eating in the mess or fighting with a replicator.

"So did you just do the life signs scan or a complete one?" he asked between bites. Ro had been acting strange, much like how many people he had seen who wanted to flirt but wasn't sure how to start.

"Life? Do you think we should do a complete? I mean, well I am not some science flunky's gofer so... Well if you want me to I will," she purred at last with a little too much effort. Ken rolled his eyes. This is what he had hoped to avoid. There were enough relationships and free love on the ship already, and he didn't think that having that was a good thing. Every book on the subject since time long past said the same thing: Don't stick your pen in the company ink. It was a rule he intended to never break.

"Yeah let's see what is here, after all it's all about the exploration isn't it?" He kept his tone neutral save for the last part which he made a tad bit more sarcastic than he meant to. Ro picked up the tricorder and punched up the full scan program.

"Huh, that's odd," Ro said after scanning a complete circle.

"What?" Ken wiped some crumbs from his face.

"That wall behind those work stations, it's false. There is something behind it but it is shielded somehow. Want to take a look?" She smiled and picked up her Type 3.

"Yeah let's take a look. Ladies first." He also picked up his rifle and took up a cover position and they walked up to the wall. She scanned it again but still no luck. Ro put her hand on the wall and her hand passed right through it. Both Crewman were stunned.

"Some kind of hologram maybe?" Ro asked.

"Maybe. Where is the emitter though?" Ken scanned the room looking for an emitter but found none. He looked behind him and found an active screen. "Hey, Ro, check this out."

"Interesting. It has an independent power source. I think if you hit that yellow light up the hologram should turn off."

"What makes you say that?" Ken asked as he hit the yellow button. A loud alarm began to ring.

"Goglak tifk chap oni!" a voice shouted. It repeated itself again and again except for the last word, which changed each time.

"Go for cover, I think it is counting down to something." As Ro shouted her warning and Ken moved, a thin blue energy bolt lashed out to where Ken had just been standing. A small black spot appeared on the floor.

They took cover behind an island desk that sat in the entrance way. Another bolt found them but the table took the shot. Ken began to move to see if he could see where the fire was coming from and caught the third shot in the left shoulder.

"Ken, are you okay?" Ro's voice carried a hint of fear.

"Yeah, my arm is just numb. That blast was much less powerful than the first. I think its battery is worn down." As he shook out his arm a fourth shot connected and he felt a slight tingle. He laughed when the fifth dissipated without touching him. The unfound security phaser drone went silent. They both stood up and moved toward the control panel. It had dimmed considerably and then went black like all the rest. The hologram field failed also and they could see what was behind it. A vault.

Ken shook out the numbness from his arm as Ro tried to pull a large door handle. It gave and the vault door slid open with ease.

"Must have been magnetically sealed and pressure assisted. It has to weigh a ton. Wow, I think I know what this place used to be," Ro said with a very surprised face. Ken joined her side and smiled.

"I wonder if I am going to be charged with grave robbery or theft of artifacts." Before them were many pieces of art, several book cases of literature, sculptures, lined the walls. In the center of the room was a cage wherein contained many stacks of aged plastic disks of varying colors. Ken's eyes lit up as he scanned and estimated what the room might be worth. He knew of many traders and collectors who highly sought such items as were contained in the room for their collections. Much like collectors of Nazi paraphernalia in the 21st century, this new generation had a macabre obsession with dead races and societies. The less known the more sought after, they became intellectual signs of status in those circles. With even just a few books he could trade with his supplier of comics for many old earth gems, though he doubted his much sought after Tales of Terror #38 would be as rare as some other piece might. This mission was going to be a long one, he knew that but what worried him was a voice from his past calling louder and louder in his ears.

---

"Just Get It Over With"
by Ensign Marp
and Ensign Ainsley Chambers

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16 11h55

***

Marp spent his initial spare time on the Sulu walking around getting acquainted with the layout of the ship. He had gotten several strange looks from other crew members as they walked by. This did not surprise Marp, it had taken a couple months for people to get used to the fact that he belonged at the academy. To be honest, Starfleet was the last place he'd expect to find a Ferengi as well.

Looking up to get an idea where he was, he noticed he was outside a counselor's office. A small sign next to the door proclaimed that the office belonged to Ainsley Chambers. "I suppose I will have to visit her sooner or later," he thought as he paused outside the door. He remembered the large amount of time he spent with the academy counselors. One of them joked that the academy brass wanted to make sure that Marp was not intending to sell the fleet to the highest bidder. Marp had given the idea some thought before he realized that the man was joking.

Marp rang her door chime, however, there was no response. Turning to continue his tour of the ship he nearly bumped into a human female.

"Excuse me," said Marp. "I did not mean to run you over."

Ainsley looked at the slightly shorter man. "That's ok," she responded. She'd noticed the Ferengi standing outside her office door. "I'm Ainsley Chambers." She held out her hand to him.

"Hello, I am Marp." Marp shook her hand.

"Were you looking for me?" she asked, pointing towards the door where he had been standing.

"Umm... Yeah, I am new to the Sulu. I just assumed that I would be required for a Psych eval. If you had some time free I would like to get it over with," said Marp.

"Sure," Ainsley said, stepping around him. "Come on in." She stepped towards the door and it opened for her.

Marp followed her into her office. It dawned on Marp that he had not even bothered to make an appointment. "I am sorry for just dropping in without an appointment. I was getting acquainted with the ship and came across your office. If this is not a good time I can make an appointment."

"It's fine," Ainsley responded with a smile. "I don't have any appointments scheduled for another couple hours. Please have a seat," she indicated the couch and chairs. She had to admit to herself that she was a little surprised to see him at her door, she hadn't known that there was a Ferengi on board the Sulu. But then he had said that he was new to the ship. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No thank you, Counselor," he said. "I suppose you are wondering what a Ferengi is doing in Starfleet. That is usually the first question anyone asks." Marp looked into the blue eyes that were focused on him.

Ainsley took a seat in the chair opposite him and smiled. "Well it had entered my mind," she admitted truthfully.

"You see Ferengi, as I am sure you know, are motivated by making profit. I am, at least in the eyes of my Father, not capable of doing that. He disowned me and here I am. That is it in a nutshell." Marp has decided to gloss over the details and just give her the short version of his life.

"Why are you incapable of living up to your father's expectations?" she asked, not willing to let that get by her.

Marp frowned, "Let's just say that I have not been very profitable in my past business dealings." Marp hoped that would be a good enough answer. The truth was that he could not make an ounce of latinum profit even if his life depended on it. Everything he touched turned to dust.

"How unprofitable is 'not very'?" Ainsley asked.

Marp began a quiet study of his uniform boots and did not answer right away. When he finally spoke he said in a quiet voice, "A complete and utter failure."

"And that's why you decided to come to Starfleet? It's safer for you?" She looked at him thoughtfully.

Marp looked at her. "I would not call roaming the Gamma Quadrant safe. I joined Starfleet because it was something for me." He paused trying to decide what more to say. "I am no longer welcome in my family or on Ferenginar for that matter. I am considered somewhat of a joke by most Ferengi."

"You're right, the Gamma Quadrant may not be physically safe, but it's certainly safe from your family and any of your past business dealings. Safety is a relative thing really." Ainsley looked him in the eyes for a moment. "You don't have anyone at home who loves you and would welcome you back?"

Marp again began studying his boots. "Well, my last business deal cost my family a great deal of their own wealth and prominence. I do not exist as far as they are concerned."

"I could go back to Ferenginar but I would be treated as a sub-standard Ferengi, a defect. I chose to leave because I wanted a better life." Marp looked from his boots to the counselor.

"A very good decision I would think," Ainsley responded. "Do you miss home though?"

"Not really. I have to admit I really like being in Starfleet. It is kind of a new home for me," said Marp.

"That's excellent," she responded. "How long have you been in Starfleet?"

"Well, I just graduated from the Academy. This is my first assignment," answered Marp. "I spent 7 years in the academy."

"Seven years?" Ainsley responded, a little surprised. "What did you take?" She was no where near as prepared as she usually was for a meeting with new crew members, normally she would have read over their official file once or twice before hand but with this being a last minute thing she obviously hadn't had that opportunity.

"Well, I started with Science, then moved to Engineering and finally flight school." Marp smiled, "I began to think of Starfleet as a new home and kept on adding subjects to study so I would not have to leave. They drew the line when I wanted to take up security study." Marp made a gesture with his hands. "So here I am."

"And how long have you actually been onboard the Sulu?" Ainsley asked.

"I got on at DS9," Marp replied.

"And are you enjoying actually being on a ship? Or are you missing the Academy?"

"So far so good I guess," said Marp. "I had gotten pretty comfortable in the Academy but so far things a going fairly well on the Sulu."

***

As Marp left the counselor's office he felt that he had done a pretty good job. With any luck he would not have to come back for another visit. The growling in Marp's stomach reminded him that it was time for lunch. He headed for the Officer's lounge. Perhaps that Sikara fellow would be able to make him a bowl of tube grubs today.

---

"Artifacts and...Hoo-ha"
by Ensign Tristan Finn
and Lt. jg Taylor Bennett

Location: The surface of Planet JJ324c
Stardate 57908.16, 12h30

***

"Over there," Ensign Tristan Finn said, pointing into the distance. "The one with the tall pointy thing on top. I think we should search that one." He waved his tricorder in that direction, letting it scan as he did so. "Tall pointy religious places are where all the important artifacts and other pieces of...hoo-ha are kept."

Taylor Bennett arched a pointed eyebrow. "Hoo ha?"

"Technical term," Finn said as he waved off her befuddled expression. "All the A&A officers are using it this year. But, that's where we should go. Tall. Pointy. Jackpot."

"I'm not so sure," Taylor answered as she studied her own tricorder. "Tall and pointy really doesn't seem to be good criteria for storing valuable pieces of religious importance--"

"Hoo ha."

Taylor sighed. "Right, hoo ha. Still, Finn, I think your logic is flawed."

Finn grinned. "Ah, therein lies the problem. I am relying on something far greater than logic. I rely on...a hunch."

"So, why the one with the big, tall pointy spire and not the sphere."

"A sphere just isn't phallic enough for the required significance. The most important building is always going to be the one shaped like a giant er--"

"I get the point," Taylor said quickly before he could continue. "Still, I think your...hunch is wrong. A lot of the buildings in the government area had spheres, and not spires."

Finn sighed. "Fine, we'll do it your way. We go search the big beach ball, and then we investigate my hunch. Deal?"

Taylor shook her head and laughed. "Deal. So...how often are your hunches right?"

With a sidelong glance at her, Finn gave her another grin. "How often is your logic right?"

Taylor laughed and couldn't help grinning. "Point."

"Ah, you begin to see. Now, once you are convinced of tall to go with that point, your conversion will be complete."

She motioned him to follow and started off toward the temple with the large spherical shape hovering above it. "Come on, let's go find your hoo-ha before you strain something."

***

"Hoo-ha," Finn said as he lifted a book off a shelf. "Shelves and shelves of hoo-ha. Oh, don't worry about that over there. It's just thingies." He set the book on a large table and opened it. The pages were old, but not to the point of disintegrating in the air. "Oh wow...indecipherable hoo-ha. How's your Alienese?"

Taylor looked up from the stack of scrolls she'd been looking through. "It depends on which Alienese you're talking about. If you mean one that matches what these are written in, then fairly poor. Actually, non-existent. I'm recording everything here though."

"Make sure to get this book," Finn said, as he squinted at the lettering. His tone was surprisingly serious and focused. "Judging by the weight and the binding, I'd say it's fairly important. It was also set in a stand on that shelf all by itself, which also says important."

Taylor left the scrolls and moved to Finn's side. "Yes, definitely looks important." She pointed to a glyph in the corner of the page. "I've seen that one in the city, usually on the spheres."

Finn nodded. "Not sure what it translates as, but there was definitely an importance in their lives." He grinned suddenly and looked up at her. "Congratulations, Lieutenant, you have a good eye for hoo-ha. If the Finders of Hoo and Ha had a secret handshake, I would teach it to you."

She laughed again. "You are strange, Ensign Finn."

A grin that seemed to sparkle in his eyes curled his lips up as he gave her a wink. "You have no idea. Once you have that scanned, I saw a door to the side of that main area out there."

"Just a little bit more," Taylor said as she continued turning pages. Five minutes later, she closed her tricorder. "Done. Let's go check out that door."

***

"Computers and large cylinder-shaped thingies," Finn said as they descended a staircase down into a very large, open room. To the sides were cylinders with a large computer sitting in the center. A smaller version of the sphere atop the temple rested atop the computer, and markings similar to those of the book were etched along all of its surfaces. "We have found the motherload of hoo-ha, Ensign Bennett."

"I think you're right," Taylor said as she walked out into the open, her tricorder trilling as it scanned everything in range and recorded it for later analysis.

"Spooky spooky," Finn called from near one of the cylinders. "I think this is Deacon Bones, not to be confused with the Bones from Kirk's Enterprise, of course. I think these may be the bodies of those who were bigwigs in the church. Though, I'm really not sure I would consider a bunch of mouldy old corpses much of hoo ha, but still interesting." He turned back to her. "Anything on the computer?"

Taylor frowned at the display and shook her head. "No power."

"Well, we can try to get a portable generator down here if we want to dig deeper. And, I think we do...because deeper is always where the best hoo-ha is."

"Of course," Taylor said with an amused laugh. "I really hope we're able to figure out how to translate their language. I'd love to know what all this writing means."

"Would really be disappointing if it were a shopping list, wouldn't it?" Finn winked. "I think it will be interesting and informative though. Usually taken with a grain of salt roughly the size of a starship, religions are usually really good places to find out history. I think we've got a dilithium mine's worth of it here."

Taylor wandered over to another rack of scrolls and shook her head. "A treasure trove of hoo-ha?"

Finn gave her a grin. "Oh indeed. Though, unless we get busy, it's all still just gibberish. Come on, let's see if a couple security schmoes have the juice to translate any of this. And, if not, we'll summon one of the brains in teal to work their magic. Upstairs?"

Taylor laughed and started after Finn as he started back toward the stairs. "So, what do the counselors say about you, Finn?"

"They say that I make Dr. Potts seem like a normal, well-adjusted person," Finn said with a grin. "Though, I'm still not sure if that's a compliment or not."

And, so they ventured back upstairs to see if they could coax any answers out of the various books awaiting them.

---

"Redefinition"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer
Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Ensign Annikafiore Szerda - Nurse [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.16, 13h00

***

For the mid-day meal break, Damhnait Sefton sat down with all ten of her medical officers for an informal meeting, which would match a similar later meeting with as many enlisted medical personnel. She encouraged everyone to eat and speak freely, as they discussed the current health of the crew's populace, the status of the JJ324c corpses and virus, and the medical department's recent instabilities.

There was the group of nurses, medical officers and counsellors who had been taken back to Deep Space 9 by a runabout a couple of days after the Sulu entered the Gamma Quadrant, because a clerical error over-staffing the medical department had been recognised by Command. Having been accustom to a Sovereign-class, Damhnait explained, she hadn't noticed the excessive personnel, nor had she been prepared to make the transfers, but she had been given some say in who would be leaving. She had considered each officer on a balance of skill and potential ability against the officer's propensity for causing interpersonal problems. While there were still some officers on board who would probably be better off out of Sefton's Sickbay, she was confident in the abilities of every one of them as healers, and told them all as such.

There was also the group of medical technicians who were just recently transferred to the Science department, now that the exploration was underway. Even with their departure, Damhnait clarified that, as a large Medical department for a ship this size, they were privileged to have the resources to take part in the Sulu's mission of discovery. On top of caring for the crew, they were to manage their own exploration, and supplement the larger Sciences department at every opportunity.

This brought Damhnait to her final scheduled topic.

"When I first assumed the position of Chief Medical Officer, I chose not to make too many changes at once. Now that the department is nearly settled, I feel it time to reduce some of the redundant practices of the previous management. For instance, nurses will no longer spend slow shifts performing a medtech's task of cataloguing pre-replicated hypospray cartridges or running diagnostics on medical equipment. I would prefer if, during non-alert conditions, each of you spend your time on self-education. Some of you are already accustom to using your duty shifts to get to know your colleagues as people, and now it is time to get to know them as officers. Identify a skill or competency that you lack, and learn it from one of your colleagues. Use Sickbay's resources to further your education in the correspondence courses that most of you are undertaking. Spend the time making yourself better medical officers.

"Additionally, the Life Science Laboratory will remain in operation during all shifts, so long as the ship is not at an alert condition. On top of mission-specific investigations, I would like each of you to produce a proposal for a research project. Study something that you're passionate about. The goal is for everyone to have an article written by the time we return to the Alpha Quadrant to be submitted, if not published, to the Medical Journal of your selection.

"Any responses? Questions?" Doctor Sefton looked to everyone around the table.

A single hand rose with trepidation. Amy Reese smiled shyly once all eyes were on her. "Um...do we work with partners, Doctor?"

"Since this will be a first professional research project for some of you, working with a partner is acceptable if you so choose," Doctor Sefton decided and announced.

For now Raina listened to what Dr. Sefton had to say. She nodded as she let the data sink in. Already deep in a bunch of correspondence courses. When she wasn't on duty Raina had been spending her time studying or otherwise honing her skills in the medical field. "What are your short term goals for the staff and then your longer term goals?" she finally asked.

Damhnait had expected her strategy of education and discovery to be self-evident, but it didn't take her too long to consider a response. "By the end of the current mission, we will have a complete understanding of the unique airborne organism found on JJ324c, whoever changed the signage for Sickbay to Snake Pit on a tertiary Master Systems Display will be convinced by our behaviour to change it back, and I will have guided each of you in deciding upon your own goals for self-improvement. By the time we return to the Alpha Quadrant, at least one of you will be published in a medical journal, I won't know who to promote during crew evaluations because all of you will deserve it, and there will be Science officers begging to switch into Medical."

Amy snorted and muttered, "Not after they get a taste, firsthand, of all the backstabbing that goes on." Her gaze furtively shifted towards Cris, sitting beside his new sidekick, Annika. She looked away quickly with distaste.

Cristobel kept his gaze on Amy after her comment; his look turned from pure incredulity to his own tone of distaste. Annikafiore simply huffed and rolled her eyes.

"How do you suggest we avoid said happenings, Ensign?" Damhnait asked Amy clearly, forcing the nurse to add some substance to her catty remark, or to silence herself.

Amy sighed and averted her gaze to the tabletop as her shoulders slumped forward. "I don't know," she answered defeatedly. "I mean, the outing didn't work, threats didn't.... I'm not sure there is a way to change things, Doctor."

Raina wasn't about to get into this type of discussion again. The job was what mattered and if the sickbay staff wanted to think they'd defeated themselves already then let them. She turned her attention to Amy. "Do you really think it's that far beyond hope? That we can't change things? Or maybe you're right and maybe I'm sincerely wrong to think there isn't anything we can do to make things better." With her point made she turned her attention back to the other topics of discussion.

Doctor Sefton's empathy didn't find the rest of the medical staff's feeling on the subject to be quite as polarized as Derrell's and Reese's - there was a sense of muted optimism rather than fatalism or righteousness. The uncomfortable silence in the room suggested that perhaps education and discovery weren't deemed more important topics of discussion than Sickbay's reputation. "What incidents have occurred in Sickbay?" Damhnait asked Amy point-blank.

Amy could only think of the shared laughter of Cris and Annika as they joked about her, or the whispered gossip still floating around the sickbay she happened to catch wind of from time to time. She sighed, not about to alienate herself from everyone else by ratting on them, and shook her head. "Nothing," she muttered. "Just...it was a long time ago, I guess."

Nodding gravely, it was becoming increasingly clear to Sefton that this still wouldn't be resolved with a discussion. Forcing Amy and Annikafiore to learn to work together was only causing more animosity; Szerda would be moved to Beta shift, Damhnait immediately decided.

Solving anything more from the interpersonal problems would have to wait. Sefton rose from her seat, and announced, "I have to get back to my autopsies. The security officers who were on the planet this morning should be arriving in Sickbay shortly, and if any of the initial away team members are hesitant to leave their duty stations for examinations they feel to be superfluous, since they 'feel fine', give them hell. Certainly don't rush through each examination, but we have to know how much, if any, of the crew is infected."

---

"Pain in (and about) the Neck"
by C1C Ken Smith - Security Crewman
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.16, 13h25

***

Ken Smith grumbled silently to himself as he stalked toward sickbay. He wished Ro had kept her yap shut but she hadn't and when she checked in with the away mission she had mentioned their brush with the automated bank security system. Even though he wasn't hurt he had been ordered back to the ship to be checked out by medical staff. In his mind it was fate keeping him from doing something illegal, like helping himself to a couple of books off those bookshelves. On the other hand his arm was still tingling two hours after the incident. He wondered what would have happened if the security system had been powered or had a longer battery. The doors of sickbay whooshed up and Ken strode in.

Towards the back of the room, a Starfleet medical technician was recording the symptoms a patient was expressing, and a civilian, Corran Quezith, was observing the happenings. Neither of them seemed to notice Smith, but the blond 'Doctor Mark II', the EMH, marched out of the CMO's office to ask, "What's wrong with you? You weren't on the planet were you? All of the away teams were exposed to a nasty viral infection."

While the EMH asked his questions, a door within Sickbay opened up, allowing for the exit of the Seftons. Damhnait strode off towards the morgue, but Cristobel quickly spotted the Emergency Medical Harasser, and scampered over to see if he could help Ken.

"Listen here you photonic annoyance I don't know about any viral infections, and I can assure you I feel fine. Except for my arm which had a run in with an automated security system. Now let me speak to someone who is more than a few bits of medical texts and light waves." Ken hated the Mark IIs, they just rubbed him the wrong way and the lack of sleep, stim patch he had been forced to use, and the tingling that was still bothering him made his temper much shorter than usual. Ken then added loud enough so that hopefully one of his shipmates might rescue him. "I don't see why they did replace the Mark Is with you."

"I assure you, Crewman, that I am a much superior doctor compared to my predecessor, I am also better equipped to treat whatever your ailment may be and furthermore if you do not desist in your verbal assaults on my person I will be forced to put you under psychological evaluation and file a complaint. I may not hold a rank in Starfleet but there are powers at my disposal that more than make up for that."

This Mark II had an even more grating personality than Ken remembered from 'boot camp'. He was preparing a retort when they were interrupted.

"Deactivate EMH," Cristobel sighed. It was becoming such a familiar activity in Sickbay that Cris suspected the computer would begin to recognise sharp sighs towards the EMH as a deactivation command. Regarding Ken, Sefton told him, "The concern for viral infection is valid, regardless of how you feel." With a single sweep of his arm, Cristobel invited Ken towards a biobed, and unholstered his own medical tricorder.

"Really? I hadn't been informed I was rousted rather early in my day to take up guard duty on the planet. Besides I thought the egg heads had cleared the planet as safe?" Rovers on gamma shift were always the last to know; at least once I am beta I might get some more face time and know when I might be exposed to anything life threatening, such as viruses, Ken thought as he was examined.

"The planet is safe. Lieutenant Tagliesh and Doctor Sefton ensured as such before allowing away teams to beam down," Cristobel informed Ken in clipped tones, without looking up from the medical tricorder that he prodded and pulled towards and away from the security crewman. Cris' eyes lit up in facetious glee, when he looked up and enthused, "Oh! I forgot. I don't believe we've been introduced. You are" -- Cristobel consulted the medial file that had automatically arisen on his tricorder -- "Ken Smith. Hi. I'm Cristobel Sefton. Or Egghead Jr., I suppose."

"Nice to meet you, Ensign Sefton." You opened your mouth too soon, Ken, when will you learn not to do that. Ken had started to rub his arm unconsciously as the tingling began to hurt. "I had a run in with some kind of security system in what used to be a bank. I think the weapon was meant to be a disruptor and was part of its own internally powered automated defense system to prevent break ins. Luckily by the time I found it the battery had been pretty much exhausted. It didn't hurt until I came back onboard."

Cristobel's pursed lips and abrasive body language melted at Ken's narrative. Smith may have been annoyingly disrespectful to indigo collars, but that didn't mean he deserved to be shot. Probably. "You haven't been infected by the pathogen. No one has been, if you're curious." Tapping the tricorder's screen, Cristobel admitted, "I saw the burn; almost figured you for a tight-lipped flog-me-harder-sir Security type when you didn't immediately complain, but obviously keeping your thoughts to yourself isn't a problem." Only a beat of silence, before Cris non sequitured, "Please remove your shirt."

"I would have had to get it checked out eventually, honest." Ken smiled and put his hands up in mock surrender and added mentally, After I figured out how to sneak some of those books back to my quarters. He slipped out of his uniform top, letting it lay behind him on the table. "As to expressing my thoughts, I was born on Betazed, lived there for three years. I guess I never learned to keep my thoughts inside my head after that." In all honesty he had learned to shield his thoughts or bury deeper to avoid surface scans.

After a brief consult between Nurse Sefton and Medical Officer Derrell, Raina took a look at the marking on Ken's skin, while Cristobel somewhat jokingly told him, "I prefer it when people say what they think. Unless I don't like what they're thinking." Upon approval from the medical officer, Cristobel fetched a wide-handled dermal regenerator to treat the tissue of Ken's shoulder and arm.

"So Nurse how long have I got left?" Ken gave his patented toothy grin and chuckled low in his throat at his own joke.

"An hour. Tops," Cristobel deadpanned.

Ken's laugh filled the sickbay, drawing attention of most who were present before they returned to their previous activities. "You're funny for a blue shirt. Who am I kidding, you're just funny. So what was wrong besides the burn? It didn't hurt that bad or even look burnt until I came back on board just tingling."

"Aaand a very slow acting nerve paralyzer. How did you say you got shot again?" Cristobel asked with good-humoured suspicion.

"Crewman Ro and I were sent down to guard what looked like some kind of important building, we cleared the place of life and found a holowall and a lit up control panel. Well one thing led to another and we triggered some kind of security system. It starts throwing phaser bolts, we take cover and then I decided to see if I could see where the fire was coming from and took one in the shoulder. It fizzled out after that so I figured I got hit with a low battery shot. Ro checked in and I was ordered back here to get checked out. So you think that it was some kind of nerve paralyzer?" Ken suddenly felt something akin to having his arm ripped out of the socket. Jerking his arm from the nurse's care he let out a yelp of pain. "Doc I think you better figure out what's wrong with my arm fast because it feels like you're operating on it with out putting me under first."

Almost asking 'what one thing led to that other', Ken's exclamation left Cristobel flustered. Dropping the regenerator, Cristobel groped the cart by his side for his medical tricorder. "This is a painless non-intrusive procedure," Cris desperately insisted of Ken to stop feeling pain. As the readings on his tricorder and the biobed monitor sank in, Cris focused-calmly talked on, "...fuelling the nerve damage."

Nurse Sefton hollered for Ensign Derrell, and before either of them could explain to Ken what was happening, Raina had examined Smith's current status, and put him to sleep with a hypospray.

***

Laying on another biobed, this one much closer to the central biobed, Ken Smith's eyes fluttered open and remained open for longer than five seconds. That was when Cristobel Sefton, standing adjacent to the bed, delicately asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was dragged for a light-year by my arm and then run over by a trade freighter." Ken sat up and tried to shake the cob webs from his head. He was rewarded with a dull ache. "Ohhhhh that wasn't good. What happened to me?" He was examining his surroundings and found he was wearing an ICU gown.

Cristobel looked for Ensign Derrell, who was attending to another patient, and so would have to wait until she was available to approve an increase in medicinal painkillers. At Smith's question, Cristobel explained, "You mentioned that you had been shot by a low-powered disruptor on the planet? It seems that it left a dormant electrical pulse in your nervous system, which was re-energized by the dermal regenerator's field. Once the pulse was fully active, it started to spread paralyzing pain signals across your entire nervous system. Medical Officer Derrell and I managed to sedate you in time to correct the damage to your nervous system before it spread to your spinal cord."

"Well than I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude. So how long will I be here in sickbay?" Ken supposed he should feel lucky that no permanent damage had been done to his nervous system, but couldn't help but pine for the lost wealth that was lying under everyone else's nose on the planet surface below.

"A few more hours. The doctor'll want to make sure there's still no trace of the alien electricity in your system," Cristobel replied. His professional demeanor split with a grin, "And there's really no debt necessary. You just do your job to keep this ship safe - keep on carrying a phaser, and jumping in the line of disruptor fire, so indigo-collars won't have to."

"Hey as long as you're around to put me back together it won't be a problem." Ken laid back down and crossed his fingers on his chest. Again fate conspires against me, perhaps for the best.

---

"Contagion"
By: Ensign Raina Derrell
Ensign Amy Reese
Ensign Shirik Lektar
Lieutenant jg Tchalla Mel'Chir

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.16, 15h30

***

While the two "cats" hovered around Crewman Naeemah Psamtic with tricorders and probes, Amy Reese sighed from the tedium and Raina Derrell worked diligently at scanning a security officer who had visited the planet. So far, he was their third, on top of another ten officers from the various teams that had potentially become infected on JJ324c, and all had tested negative for the pathogen.

Yet again Amy was stuck working a late shift after Dr. Sefton and the bitch, Tagliesh, had performed autopsies on the bodies they recovered, only to discover there was a pathogen potentially loose on board. She pouted again and watched the young ensign rise from the biobed, only to be replaced by another unknown face. Amy groaned and again started into a scan with Raina.

"I don't get it," she whispered. "Why do we have to do this? I mean...what happened to all the other nurses who are supposed to be working this shift? Hm?"

Raina went about her job. The only thing on her mind was finding answers. So far nothing out of the ordinary had registered on her scans but that didn't mean much. Briefly she turned her attention to Amy. "Find anything yet?"

Amy studied her tricorder's analysis, then shook her head. "I think he's clean too."

She double checked her tricorder reading's with Amy's just to be sure. While the instruments were programmed to detect the pathogens, Raina wasn't about to take any chances. So a second look only made her more comfortable with what she was seeing. It didn't take much to tell Amy wasn't quite happy with this a particular duty. "Someone has to do this. In this case we're the lucky ones."

"Lucky or unlucky?" she quipped, then sighed and motioned for their patient to hop down. "You're fine, Ensign. Though don't hesitate to drop in if you have any concerns."

The security officer nodded, smiled at the women, and departed after receiving a less than enthusiastic smile from Amy in return. As they waited for the next to approach, Amy sucked in a breath and blurted abruptly, "I don't see Ensign Sefton ever having to pull extra shifts at the last minute. Talk about nepotism..."

"Well I'd say that's one to discuss among the nursing staff," Raina laughed. "Something tells me I'd be here on an extra shift or two anyway." Sure she didn't like the idea of this any more than Amy did, as a medical officer it was one of those things she'd learned to deal with. "Believe me I know this has been one very long day already."

Shirik entered the Sickbay with a frown. She loathed this place, and only the threat of death could bring her here while still conscious. Hence her arrival. She looked around for someone she recognized, and with relief saw her roommate, Raina. That was who she headed for. "Ensign Derrell.... Please do what you must do quickly, so I can leave."

Raina shrugged. "I'll make this as painless as possible. But orders are orders and everyone who was planetside has to be scanned." She got to work quickly.

"Believe me, Ensign," Amy piped up, "we're no more enthusiastic than you are to be here."

Shirik glanced at the other nurse, one she'd never met. Since she didn't recognise her, she didn't pay her any more attention, focusing on Raina. "I know. The possibility of infection is the only reason I'm here. I trust Lt. Tagliesh will keep her comments about the incompetence of those around her to herself from now on, since it was she who decreed the planet safe for beaming down." She scowled.

Amy raised an eyebrow at Raina, then shrugged and proceeded with the scan. "I heard," she began, "that Tagliesh spent most of the away mission teasing Commander T'Kal about sleeping with Commander Lyrr." Amy smiled eagerly at Shirik. "Is that true, Ensign?"

Shirik turned her icy gaze to Amy. "I had thought the nurses in here had learned a lesson about spreading gossip..."

Amy cleared her throat and shifted her attention to the tricorder as she muttered, "Guess the rumours about you and him are right, too..." If possible, the gaze became even colder. "And what exactly might those be?" she asked in a dangerous tone.

Amy whistled lowly to herself and turned away from Shirik to hopefully become invisible.

Raina didn't say anything as she double checked her tricorder then she directed her gaze to Shirik. "You're free to go."

Shirik's attention was no longer on Raina. "Nurse." The word held the ring of command. "I asked you a question."

"Oh...what?" Amy gave her best attempt at appearing perplexed, looking between Raina and Shirik. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Shirik folded her arms. "You like to spread gossip, let's hear it. What rumors did you hear about myself and Commander T'Kal?"

Relenting with a weary sigh, Amy said, "That you and Commander T'Kal have it bad for one another and Lyrr's none the wiser." She smiled facetiously. "Satisfied?"

"With the rumors that have been spread about you, I would think you wouldn't be interested in spreading them about others," she said dryly. She recognized the nurse once she'd actually paid attention to her, having studied the crew roster when she first came on board. The infamous Amy Reese. "I trust you will refrain from spreading more in the future."

Amy shrugged. "Hey, I'm not the source. I'm just telling you what I've heard, and just maybe you'll take it as a warning to be more discreet with the Commander. That's all...."

"Discretion is obviously not your strength," she said. "What you've heard is more of the same inane drivel that those lacking in intellect and constructive use of their time engage in to get vicarious thrills at the expense of others. Because you are not the source of such drivel does not mean you should help to spread it about."

Amy narrowed her eyes at Lektar, and used the entry of another patient into sickbay to turn her attention away from the rude, melanin defective witch who no longer warranted her valued advice. She smiled when she realized Tchi was the next on their list. "Well, you're time's up." Again, she regarded Lektar with a falsely sweet smile. "Have a great day, Ensign."

Raina already had her attention on their next patient. That topic of discussion was not one she was about to get involved with. "If you'll have a seat please," Ensign Derrell commented to Tchi. "This won't take long."

Shirik felt she'd wasted enough breath on the nurse, and the distraction of a new patient was just what she needed to make her escape from sickbay, hopefully never to return. "Good day, Raina," she said to her roommate, and made her way out of sickbay, nearly bumping Tchalla as she went.

"Finally," Amy muttered. "Is she always that grumpy, Ensign Derrell?" She tacked on quickly and with a happy smile, "Hey, Tchi."

"She's not very social if that's what you are asking," Raina sighed lightly. "But then Shirik is also rather set in her ways when it comes to any sort of gossip, especially after that incident that put me in sickbay."

"Well, then she shouldn't be fooling around with another woman's man," Amy retorted, then shook her head and motioned for Tchalla to hop onto the bed.

Tchalla smiled and hopped up onto the bed as indicated. "Thanks," she said with a smile. "You guys look busy in here."

"Oh this," Raina gestured to sickbay with a smile. "This is nothing. We've seen busier days. And honestly the tricorder does all the work."

"Oh, what are you talking about!" Amy exclaimed. "We've had to scan every single person who's been on the planet. Hopefully you're the last so I can get out of here." She grinned. "We can go to the mess and have something to eat if you want."

Tchi's smile grew and she nodded. "I'd like that a lot," she said. "I heard the officer's lounge is being put back the way it was. Commander Lyrr wasn't happy with all the changes either."

Amy snorted. "With good reason! That place was hideous."

Raina looked at her tricorder readings, looked at them again and frowned slightly before turning her focus to Tchi. "I've have some bad news. You've been infected with the pathogen."

Amy's face drained of colour. "What?" Hastily, she brought up her tricorder to verify Raina's scans, pleading for a mistake. The tears washing over her eyes as she slowly looked up at Tchi proved her hopes dashed. "Tchi..." she whispered.

Tchalla's mouth opened and closed as she tried to make sense of what she'd just heard. It was dormant, inactive. There wasn't...it couldn't... How? She turned her focus to Raina, tears filling her eyes. "You have a horrible bedside manner," she said. "I don't see why they even have you working with patients. You should...you should be an engineer. The engines don't care what you tell them or how you tell them." She took a breath that sounded more like a hiccup and turned to Amy. "It's a mistake, right? It's a mistake...I don't really...please...?"

Amy tried to find her voice and to calm her trembling, but she failed miserably and only managed a sob. Her arms went around Tchalla immediately, disregarding any concern for her own safety.

"I'm sorry." Raina's voice had softened considerably. This was obviously hard for her. Even though she'd been trained for moments like this one it wasn't easy. "I rechecked the scans several times. It's never good to draw out breaking news like this to a patient and you are understandably upset."

Tchi hugged Amy back. "How did it...how could I...what..." For good measure, she glared at Raina, then buried her face into Amy's shoulder. "We...I have to...to tell Kelli, she'll...she'll want to know..."

"Y-You can't leave here," Amy whispered thickly. "You have to stay here, Tchi. You're sick and...and we can't let you infect the rest of the crew."

As a scientist, Tchalla knew the risks and consequences, however the reality was more difficult to face. She nodded her understanding and met Amy's gaze. "Will you tell her? And...and if she can visit... Where...where will I be staying?'

"In containment here in sickbay," Amy told her. She glanced aside at Raina, who appeared as crestfallen as she was. "We need to contact Dr. Sefton and quarantine sickbay." She turned her attention back to Tchi, and smiled reassuringly. "I'll stay right here with you."

Tchalla nodded her understanding again. "Alright," she said softly. "Can Kelli visit me? And Kit too? Taylor doesn't know me very well, but...but I guess since she's in the band, she could too. And...and I don't know anyone else, except maybe Lieutenant Tagliesh." She smiled. "At least you'll be with me. Thank you, Amy."

Raina had already thought of that. "I'll worry about bringing Dr Sefton up to speed with this. You two can have some time alone and we'll see what we can do about informing Kelli or finding a way for her to at least know you are in good hands. I can't promise anything with a quarantine in effect but we'll see what we can do." This had turned into one of Ensign Derrell's unpleasant days.

"Thank you," Tchalla said as she watched Raina go, then with a sigh looked back to Amy. "I'm sorry." She sighed heavily and found herself wondering why, after all the good things that had happened, this had to happen.

Amy frowned. "Sorry for what, Tchi?"

"For...for bringing this onto the ship," she whispered. "For...for being the cause of trouble..."

"You're not," Amy told her firmly. "This isn't your fault. For all we know, it's Lieutenant Tagliesh's." Kissing Tchalla's cheek, Amy tightened her embrace. "Everything will be fine," she murmured, though she didn't see how, considering they knew nothing about the pathogen. Though, Tchalla wasn't required to know that.

Tchi nodded, her antennae drooped almost to where they were lying flat on her head. "You'll tell Kelli?"

"I'll tell Kelli," Amy affirmed, and hoped she was courageous enough to actually do so.

"Thank you," Tchalla said, blinking back tears. "Thank you for being here, Amy." She curled up on the biobed, trying not to let her spirits dim. Amy was helping her, and the other people in sickbay. They'd make her better again. It was just a matter of time...

---

"Attraction At The Point of a Knife"
By Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations
Lt. Cmdr. Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security

Location: Holodeck 1, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 16h00

***

Benedict set up the program and waited until the computer gave him the clearance to go in. The doors slid aside to admit him and with a couple of steps he was standing in the courtyard of a Bajoran house.

The outdoor training area was one of his personal favorites. Surrounded by flowers and trees, a light breeze wafted the scent of Arcacia blossoms across the courtyard and filtered morning light through the canopy of Delalli trees surrounding the high red stone walls.

Benedict was dressed in a black gi, black loose trousers and slippers with a cross-over jacket tied with a red cord.

His raven hair was tied in a ponytail to keep it controlled, but it hung down between his shoulders with a stripe of white that extended from his forelock.

He waited for Ensign Lektar, starting a warm-up series of exercises in the center of the square court.

The previous night and the day's away mission ran through his thoughts as he tried to prepare himself for the session. The away mission had been interesting - although depressing. It didn't affect him as much as the evening with Tayla. Their first night officially sharing quarters had almost ended in disaster. He hadn't slept well, and the day had been running on adrenaline.

He'd laid awake most of the night thinking about what they had said to each other. Benedict had given Lyrr an ultimatum, to see a counselor about her problems or to end the relationship they had. It was weighing heavily on him. She had said that she had chosen him, but she'd lied before now. She was in the habit of saying the convenient thing to stop a discussion and then admitting a lie afterward. He wondered if that was the case now. Did she want to commit herself?

That was the question, although she had already made a commitment - moving in together was a public declaration of how she felt about him. You just don't take that step unless you mean it. Did you? He hoped that she meant what she said. She'd said she'd chosen him. Benedict had given her a day - more than a day for he wouldn't see her until she got off shift the next day at midnight. He had Gamma shift tonight and Alpha in the morning, so he planned to crash out as soon as this session was over. He'd sleep until midnight then take his shift on the Bridge.

He felt stressed. The situation with Lyrr was wearing on him. When he'd see her tomorrow he'd know either way. She had given him an answer, but he had to give her the time that he'd promised. She'd asked for at least a day. Now he was doubting himself. Doubting whether he could walk away from her. Doubting whether he should be with her. Doubting his own sanity for getting involved in the first place. Doubting.... Benedict wasn't the kind of person who could handle doubt for very long. He needed a course of action - an answer to a problem, a direction to take. He couldn't stand indecision.

Since the night before he'd gone over and over the events and the words she had flung at him had cut him deeply. She'd accused him of giving her a Friendship Bracelet as a bribe to get her into bed, and that had really stung. He'd meant the gift for what it was - what it stood for - not so that she would feel obligated. It cheapened the whole act of giving it and the gift itself. To say that to him had been cruel and unkind. He didn't deserve that.

He'd given her an ultimatum - and now in the light of day it seemed stupid. They had been together now for a month and a half. How could he expect her to change overnight? It wasn't fair on her - and she would have been stressed completely by that. He reflected that she had changed - almost into a new woman since they had met. He remembered how she had been - and how she was now and knew that indeed she was changing. All she needed was time and less pressure. Benedict was more worried about her reaction to him. What if, in these two days of thinking she decided that it wasn't working and she ended it?

That thought was like a knife wound. Karma. It was all Karma.

***

Shirik made her way to the holodeck. This time she was a bit nervous. For all her bravado, she knew her fighting skills would be woefully inadequate to the task of sparring with T'Kal. Unlike her cousin Lesala, she was not a trained assassin, just a princess.

As she walked down the corridor she got more than one appreciative look, but paid no mind to those around her. Her mind was on one thing and one person this afternoon. Her main goal was to at least put in a good showing of herself during the workout.

She paused before the holodeck doors, just long enough to see the program was already running and Ben was already inside. She took a breath and stepped through the doors.

Shirik entered the holodeck and looked around at the surroundings as the door closed behind her to complete the illusion. Her white hair was tied up in a tight bun on her head, and she wore a one-piece skin-tight exercise suit in all black. From a distance, she almost looked naked. She had soft exercise boots on, and her kemla in a sheath strapped to her thigh.

Her gaze found Ben and moved over him, drinking in his appearance appreciatively. "Good afternoon," she said with a small smile. Already her eyes smoldered just from the look of him.

Benedict turned from his stance. "Good afternoon," he replied. He gave her a small nod, his face expressionless as his thoughts on Lyrr were interrupted. She was almost tiny, but her movements were graceful as ever as she stepped inside the holodeck.

"Warm up first," he said as she walked onto the flagstones covering the square area. He turned away, going back to the form he used to warm up.

She nodded, her ardor extinguished at his lack of notice of her outfit. She likewise turned her thoughts to the business at hand, and moved over to one of the walls, lifting her leg to prop her foot against it and stretch.

Benedict smiled once his face was turned away. She'd chosen to wear something designed to appeal to his eyes and at the same time give him nothing to grip on to as leverage. He had to admire her tenacity. She was beautiful and cunning. Her body suit made her look practically naked it was that tight! He had to turn away!

Here he was in the middle of a personal crisis with Lyrr, training a woman alone in the holodeck who he was physically attracted to. Besides being an error of judgement of monumental proportions, he still couldn't deny a friendship with her. He needed friends. This was the first time in a long while that he hadn't had the support of a few close friends. He hadn't been on the Sulu long enough to make any. He had no one to talk to about Lyrr, besides Hex - and there was only so much you could say to a subordinate in any case - and really nothing he could say of Lyrr's problems. He was cornered. He'd given his word. He certainly couldn't talk to Shirik about it.

Shirik performed her warm-up facing the wall, stretching the other leg out, leaning against the wall with one arm after the other as well.

A few minutes of a fast form of shadow boxing and he felt sufficiently warmed. He stepped off the flagstones and shucked out of his black jacket. His back to her, his golden tattoo blazed in the morning light, a fearsome tiger that snarled yellow eyed at her, red tongue and silver teeth on display. He turned back to step into the arena, solid muscles flexing as he walked, graceful as any hunting predator. His violet eyes watched her, now he looked menacing, all humor gone from his features.

When she turned, the golden tiger greeted her. Her eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath, and for a moment all she could do was stand there and stare at it. It was beautiful, and frightening, alien and familiar all at the same time. She could imagine his enemies beholding such a sight and being terrified.

He turned back to step into the arena, solid muscles flexing as he walked, graceful as any hunting predator. His violet eyes watched her, now he looked menacing, all humor gone from his features.

It took her a moment to realize he was watching her, and she immediately snapped her attention to what she was supposed to be doing. But taking her attention from the tiger only put it on T'Kal himself, and again she had to stare. He was as gorgeous as she'd imagined, perfectly formed, and her knees momentarily softened.

She tore her gaze from him with an effort and closed her eyes for a moment, mentally slapping herself back to attention. When she opened her eyes once more, her face was composed, devoid of all expression. She was Rennari, she was the Fifth Princess, and she feared nothing. She moved forward to face him.

Once she made her approach his unfocused eyes allowed him to take in her whole body. She was economical in movement, wasting nothing to erroneous use of energy. T'Kal analyzed her footfalls without conscious effort, moving his own body in deliberate untimed steps. Nothing about his movement fell into a pattern.

His body remained relaxed, saving energy for his own attacks and allowing greater speed of delivery for his strikes. His hands moved, shifting, graceful, almost mesmerizing, but his eyes were even more so.

He waited for her to make the first move.

Shirik reached to her thigh when she noticed he had no weapons. She raised an eyebrow at him. "No knife?" She hadn't expected him to fight her unarmed. That didn't bode well if he felt he didn't even need a weapon.

The slight smile that touched his lips was his only answer. It was slightly disdainful - almost a sneer, calculated to cause her an emotional reaction. He wanted her to react to him, not the other way around. Her pride was the fastest way to accomplish that. Challenge her pride and she would come out fighting.

He waved a hand, flicking his fingers for her to come at him. He waited on light feet, balanced for the strike.

She might not be a fighter, but she was no fool, either. Her opponent was clearly superior in skill, and waiting for her to leap at him and be slain. But she was not an offensive fighter, her training had been for self-defense mainly.

She slipped the kemla from its sheath and held it ready, moving into a semi-crouch on the balls of her feet, and stepped back, circling and weaving, but not attacking. Pride had its place, but not in a knife fight.

He smiled then. A genuine smile and a slight nod was all he needed to indicate that she was wise. She was going on the defensive. Very well.

He stepped forward in a fluid movement that brought his body side-on to her attack. The knife was his central focus and he attacked it.

A double handed cross block intercepted her first cut, her wrist was slippery and she evaded his grip due to the suit she wore. It brought back vivid memories to T'Kal of Viata.

He was stepping away, blocking two cuts with open palms to her knife hand as she counter-attacked swiftly.

He backed off, having gauged her level of skill in the first exchange.

The attack came swiftly, as she knew it would. She knew the kemla was her strength, but also her weakness. He would be trying to get it from her, and she had to avoid that as well as try to drive him off. It would be a difficult task.

The knife began moving, every movement quick and short, meant to assure the knife was never in one spot for more than a moment, feinting, slashing, stabbing, her feet staying in motion too. She knew movement was her best defense.

She knew in a real fight she wouldn't have this suit on likely, but was glad she'd chosen it today when it kept him from getting a good grip on her wrist.

T'Kal watched her movements for a few seconds before instinctively knowing the timing. He lunged. His body came in low, hands a blur as he blocked her knife hand in a wrapping movement of his left arm, circling her forearm to lock up her elbow at the joint. Her arm was straightened as he body checked her. Unable to use the knife his right forearm was suddenly pressed against her throat, bending her backward, cutting off her air.

She saw him coming, recognized the attack, but it came too fast for her to do anything about it. Still, since it wasn't really life or death, she could almost enjoy being defeated for the contact it afforded her. Aside from the lack of air, anyway...

His face was a scant few inches from her own. Her body pressed to his, unable to move. He relaxed, his arm, allowing her to breathe again as he stepped away with a slight smile.

When she was released she took a moment to regain her breath and nodded in appreciation of his considerable skill. "What's that saying the Klingons have? Today is a good day to die...." she smiled a fraction.

"It's never a good day to die," he smiled, turning once again to stand at the ready.

Shirik moved back to her ready position once more, too. She would try to be more diligent, less predictable, but she knew at best she'd be lucky to even hold her own. She watched him warily as he circled, but couldn't help but to admire his form as it moved.

His torso gleamed with a light sheen of perspiration; it made the gold shine brightly as he moved. He circled her, letting her catch her breath.

She showed promise, a good skill level with the blade and a tough attitude. With training, she would be formidable.

He feinted to the left as he came in again and as her knife hand sliced toward him he kicked out, blocking her arm with his foot at the same time as he dropped onto his back, swivelling in the air before he landed to scissor kick her legs from under her. She went over, slamming into the flagstones and knocking the wind from her momentarily. The stones weren't as hard as they should be, giving with impact to avoid damage.

This attack she was totally unprepared for, and she went down easily and hard. She didn't know what the floor was made of, but was glad it wasn't as hard as it looked.

Benedict was on his feet again with a fast back-flip, circling her prone body.

She opened her eyes after the fall had closed them, and looked up at him circling her. "You're making this look way too easy," she smiled.

"You concentrate too much on your weapon," he pointed out. "Your whole body is a weapon. The Kemla is just a part of your arsenal." He reached behind his back and a second later his Kut'luch was in his hand, blade pointed along his own forearm, gripped underhand rather than as an extension of the wrist.

"Against an unarmed opponent, use your blade like this," he demonstrated. Weaving his arm, she quickly lost sight of the blade.

"Deception is useful in a knife fight." He stepped forward and spun his body, the arm with the knife momentarily disappearing behind his body as he spun. When the same hand extended again, it wasn't the one holding the knife.

Benedict's other hand held it close to his body, stabbing outward in a direct thrust. Blocking the original knife hand would have been a fatal mistake.

She moved to sit up so she could watch him better, studying his movements intently, and slowly trying to imitate them with her kemla. "I see I can use a lot more training.... You truly are incredible." In more ways than one, she thought.

Benedict grinned down at her. Flipping his knife he palmed it again and resheathed it in his trouser sash.

He bent and helped her to her feet with one hand.

"You'll get better. I'll make sure of it!" he smiled. Her violet eyes were regarding him with an intense gaze. "I'll show you some techniques for unarmed combat." He stepped away, and once again his attention wandered to her black clad body, so perfectly displayed by the uniform she wore. He shook his head, as if to clear it.

"Are you offering to train me?" she smiled, liking that idea a lot. "If so, I can teach you something in return." Her eyes locked on his, and she felt compelled to step even closer, doing so.

His smile was wary. "What would you teach me?" he asked lightly.

"My language, if you have an interest," she smiled. "It's one of the few things I know that nobody else around here does."

He laughed softly. "Yeah, I'd like that." He felt that attraction again as she came even closer, her eyes almost mesmerizing.

"Nim dum lifna am doten..." she said softly, eyes never leaving his. "You have the heart of a warrior..."

He smiled, her accented speech was almost musical, her voice a purr.

"Do you wish to continue?" he asked, meaning the training. He was totally aware that they were alone on the holodeck. He was attracted to her, there was no denying it - but it was purely physical. His body reacting to hers. He wondered if it had anything to do with his frustration with Lyrr, but quickly dismissed that.

"Yes, I do..." she purred. She knew he meant the training, although who knew what she meant. With a silky smile she stepped away, purposely giving him a good look at her softly swaying backside as she moved to take up position once more. "Teach me." She smiled.

---

"Revoking Artistic License"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Head Chef Sikara

Location: Officers Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.16, 16h25

***

Walking into the lounge was like walking into a room regurgitated on by a drunken Lurian. She regarded the orange walls and frowned. A drunken Lurian who had also eaten a very bad meal. Lyrr was now more convinced than ever that Sikara's violation of all rules governing aesthetic interior decorating had to be punished. It truly was a travesty.

She spotted the chef bustling in the small kitchen alcove, from which a modest line of officers had formed. Steeling her gaze, she strode forward and stopped in front of the counter with arms folded over her chest. When the Commander had walked in, Sikara knew that the moment he had been dreading silently had arrived. The Bajoran Commander had almost gotten his appointment scrapped when she raised objection to having him on board. She had accused him of being something that he was not, and now she had entered the lounge for the first time in the week he had been on board.

An ensign collecting his plate of steaming food from Sikara nodded in greeting to the commander, she returned the gesture, then fixed her gaze on the Risan again. "Crewman," she said, her delivery clipped and uninviting.

Sikara braced himself and hoped that his Federation Standard skills had been improving since he had his first lesson with Nathalie.

"Commander Lyrr, it is, how you say, superbly wonderful to see you," Sikara said, his face planted with a well-practiced faux-smile.

"It won't be in a moment," she muttered, then: "Crewman, could you step out from the kitchen? I'd like to speak with you for a moment." He appeared hesitant and his eyes went immediately to the line of officers awaiting their meals. "They won't starve, Crewman, if they have to wait a couple minutes," she sang.

Sikara looked uncertainly toward the officers, who shrugged back nervously. From what he had heard, the Commander had a reputation for strictness, but rumour was rife recently of a strong relationship with the Security chief. The Risan chef realised that he had been thinking too long and quickly deposited his traditional chef's hat on the table and walked around from the counter, to stand in front of the Commander

"What can I do for you, Commander?" Sikara said, bowing as was his race's custom.

"I'll get right to the point," Lyrr replied. "There have been complaints about you and this...system you've developed for handling the high volume of patrons that come and go from the lounge." She quirked an eyebrow at him, and stated with disapproval, "Reservations? Aboard a starship? This isn't a restaurant, Crewman, and I don't intend for it to become one. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Sikara couldn't help the slight blush that formed on his cheeks. "I...I..." He sighed in exasperation as he tried to find the right words. "The reservations are for peak time, Commander. Without them, we would have to turn people away, and people may want to have a nice meal with a partner perhaps. The reservations are made 1 hour only before people come, and I was hoping to create a restaurant-feel, as I believe people enjoy the restaurant-feel and on a maybe long mission without leave...."

"But people don't enjoy having to worry about informing you of their intention to have a meal while they're busy on shift," Lyrr replied. "You can't simply turn people away, Mr. Sikara." Her tone was chiding. "These are Starfleet officers who, I should hope, do have even a small ability for rational thought. If they see a busy lounge, with no seats, they're not simply going to barge in here and demand service; likely, they'll leave on their own or wait for a table to be vacated. Frankly, you're causing an uproar." Smiling persuasively, she told him, "So, I'm here to ask you to reconsider this silly idea of yours, Crewman." The stern look in her eyes, however, indicated the request was more of an order.

Sikara cringed at the rather aggressive tone and missed that it was actually an order. He straightened and replied, "Commander, I would have to disagree with you. The ordering system takes 20 seconds to complete, and it ensures that I have the correct tables prepared and the correct crewman on duty."

Sikara barely noticed the loss of all other conversation in the lounge as all 40 pairs of eyes focused on the argument brewing. He did however hear his tupella bread boiling in its water and was slightly distracted. He, however, continued his end of the argument with the first officer.

"Some nights I may need extra staff and some nights I can do it all by myself. I would have thought the First officer would realise that it is a waste of resources if a crewman stood around against a wall because there was not enough business to warrant him or her being there. I believe that the ordering system is not that bad, and provides real advantages to me as head chef. Also, I have seen no 'uproar' and have had no complaints. In a few weeks people will be used to the booking system and will find it good to know that if they book they will have a table for themselves and whoever they bring with them."

"There will be no booking system," Lyrr told him. "There will be no necessity for reservations. Crewman Nebbs had no difficulties with the overflow of patrons you describe, which seems to suggest to me, Crewman, that you may not be equipped to handle accommodating the rather small crew complement on this ship. I believe you're under the erroneous assumption that you're still on Risa, Crewman, running your own restaurant." Lyrr shrugged. "You're not, and this isn't. So either conform to the protocols established for this vessel, or find transportation back to your homeworld. Your choice."

Sikara took this as a personal insult, and momentarily forgot his position in relation to the woman standing in front of him. And to the horror of the surrounding officers he said, louder than he had intended, "Are you questioning my, um--" He cursed as he desperately searched for the correct words, and silently told himself to work harder with Nathalie. "--my, my mental state? I can assure you that I know where I am, and I know that this booking system is a good idea. I would not have instigated it if I thought it was just a waste of time. I have looked into the protocols involved in the lounge and mess hall, and there is no mention of anything that prohibits controlling the amount of people attending the officer's lounge. And with all due respect to Malcolm, he pretty much operated a replicator in here, that is one thing I certainly will not be doing. I have already had plenty of people in here."

Lyrr's expression remained impassive and calm, despite her low tolerance for insolence. "Crewman," she said levelly, "it would appear you have no idea where you are, for if you did, you would know better than to talk to this ship's executive officer as you just have. I have mentioned nothing about your mental state, only that your judgement regarding the operation of this lounge may have been slightly skewed by your time on Risa." Smiling a smile not at all appealing, Lyrr finished with, "I suggest you take a moment to re-evaluate exactly where you are, and who you are speaking to, Crewman, for in Starfleet we don't simply fire personnel when they are disrespectful and impudent; the consequences for that are a little more hefty, if you get my meaning."

Sikara went over many smart comments he could have spat back. She had said that he obviously didn't know where he was. Perhaps he had used the wrong words in Federation standard; he really did have to brush up.

The Risan, bit his tongue and nodded, remaining silent.

Satisfied, Lyrr smiled. "You'll speak with someone in Operations, then, to solve the apparent quandary you're in regarding the smooth running of this lounge. Perhaps Mr. Nebbs...." As a final note, she added, "And there have been complaints that your choice of decor has been upsetting some stomachs. You may wish to consider redecorating."

Sikara smiled a sickly smile and replied, each word tasting like venom in his mouth, "Thank you, Commander, for making me aware of these apparent problems. I shall sort them as soon as possible."

Lyrr nodded. "I'm glad. And if I haven't said it before...welcome aboard, Mr. Sikara."

"I don't believe you have, Commander. Thank you very much." His mouth still tasted vile

Sikara watched the Bajoran go. His temper now gave his Risan skin a very red look to it. The officer's lounge was staring at him. He shrugged his shoulders, trying his best to seem sincere.

"I suppose you can't have all happy customers," he laughed, almost too heartily. The officers in the lounge laughed nervously and continued their meals.

Glad that the attention was now elsewhere, although he was sure the rumour mill had already begun to spread news of what had happened all over the ship. He returned to his kitchen and threw the tupella bread in the bin rather hard. He smiled at his next customer

"I'm afraid the Tupella has been taken off the menu today..."

---

"Doubletalk"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Science Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Office of the Chief of Science
Stardate: 57908.16 16h35

***

Farrell swaggered into the science office with his computer kit and a smile.

"Evenin'," he said affably. "Ensign Farrell, pleased to meet you."

"Pardon me if I don't share that sentiment," the ever-pleasant Xayella Tagliesh replied with a sullen frown. "This thing" --she gestured to the newly installed computer console, one replaced after the incident with Saavar-- "it's not functioning to acceptable standards."

Farrell set his kit on a chair and regarded the machine rather than her. "Is it the configuration you dislike, or the raw ergonomics?"

Xay sighed and pressed the heel of her palms into her tired eyes. "Look...I don't know," she answered irritably. "Just...fix the damn thing, okay?"

"Long day?" Farrell asked wryly as he opened his kit and fished out his tricorder and diagnostic rig.

"Long week," she amended, then sank down onto her chair heavily. "It seems shore leave wasn't relaxing enough. You feel that way?"

"Feel which way? That it was a long week or that shore leave wasn't relaxing enough?" Farrell pulled the lower panel off the console and squatted before the opening.

Xay smiled wanly. "A little of both. I mean, sounds like you had a rough time of things too...getting shot, reprimanded.... But, you're still chugging right along and I don't know how you manage it."

"Well," Farrell plugged in the diagnostic relay and powered up his tricorder, "I've still got work to do. Operations gets it done, no matter what." He chuckled. "It's a corny platitude, but it's what we live by. Are you looking for advice?"

"From you?" she asked, snorting a laugh. "As far as I've heard, you're far more unstable than I am. I was just...observing."

"That's me," he grinned, ignoring her attitude. "Mister unstable. Can't keep rank," he said absently, "can't keep my fists to myself. Can't stay in a serious relationship. But we've all got our little flaws, now don't we?" He moved his kit off the chair and began pushing it to the console.

Xay's smile curled slyly as she swung her feet onto the desktop and reclined comfortably in her chair to observe Farrell probingly. "I was the same, you know. Not anymore...I don't think." She chuckled, and lazily began pivoting her chair rhythmically. "So...having girl trouble, then?" Xay smirked. "Or man trouble, if that's your thing."

"Well, that Viraj is sure one sexy Deltan," Farrell said dryly. He seated himself, put his feet up on the console, and let his tricorder run its tests. "You offering to help me with my problems?" he asked, without looking at her.

Xay shrugged, exhaling deeply. "I do have some experience with trouble," she mused. "But mostly with causing it. Though I have always wanted to try my hand at problem-solving.... If you want to be my first test subject, let's hear it."

Farrell chuckled and checked his tricorder. "Alright, I'm involved in affairs with two superior officers at once. If they find out about each other, there'll be hell to pay. How do I get out of it?"

One side of Xayella's lips lifted in a smile that looked more like a near snarl. "Oh, quite the dilemma you have there," she drawled. "Looks like the only way out is to fess up before they find out. Or choose one over the other." She nodded slowly, approving of her own advice. Abruptly sliding her legs off the desk and she leaned forward to scrutinize the crafty Ops man. "Would one of these superiors happen to be a certain large, very well built engineer by the name of Zareb, Ensign?" She laughed lightly, almost musically. "He's quite the catch. You're a lucky man. Why, I've had the opportunity to speak with him, and even I felt slightly tempted."

Farrell still hadn't looked at her. "Confession, sir? You never seemed the type."

"Who said anything about confessions, Ensign?" she replied pithily and with slightly narrowing eyes. "We're talking about you, or have you forgotten so soon?"

"Touchy touchy," Farrell said absently. "Of course we're talking about me. You just told me I ought to confess. Just struck me as an odd piece of advice, is all." The tricorder beeped, and he considered its findings.

Xayella's cool demeanour returned, and she smiled serenely. "Well, when has telling the truth ever been such an unconventional thing, Ensign? Or is that just the way you think?" She shrugged. "It's no wonder you're in such big trouble."

"That's your policy, then? Absolute honesty, no matter who it hurts?"

Her gaze, fixed to his profile, faltered and she focused on the white knuckles of her tightly folded hands. "So...you suggest deception and subterfuge in the interests of sparing the feelings of all parties involved?" She nodded to herself. "That's a risky strategy, Ensign. What if the truth leaks out? Wouldn't that only cause greater emotional damage for all?"

"Boy, it's a tough call," Farrell mused. "It's my own fault, too. I mean" --he got vaguely dreamy-- "the one officer is great: in charge and a natural leader, with just a hint of vulnerability that drives me crazy. But the other, wow. An animal. Primal. Tough. And," he hesitated, wondering at the word, "new. I mean, the first is nice and all, but getting dull. The second is new and fresh, and Mmm," the sound was an appreciative grunt.

"Yeah," she murmured absently. She leaned her chin into her fisted hand and idly drummed the fingers of her other upon the desk. "Quite the dilemma, indeed... But what about the long run? Take the one officer, for instance. He'll be around for a long while, and is committed, right? And the other...well, he'll be gone eventually, and if you hurt the other one, when Mr. Primal leaves, what will you be left with?" She released a puff of air, sounding a 'Poof'. "Nothing," she finished somberly.

Farrell finally looked at her, meeting her gaze with a serious air. "Is that what I'm afraid of? Losing it all?"

She smiled wryly and glanced up in return. "Isn't that what we're all afraid of, Ensign? Of achieving something so perfect that you might as well screw it up before the universe screws it up for you?" Xay mulled over the thought, then nodded decisively. "I see your point, Ensign."

"So what should I do?"

Sighing, she raked her fingers through her hair and cradled her throbbing head in her hands. "I don't know," she whispered truthfully. "I just don't know, Ensign."

"I hear you," Farrell said. "Thank you, Lieutenant. It's been good to talk to someone who isn't a counselor and won't hold it against me or put it in a report. Maybe we could talk again sometime. It's nice to have someone to talk to."

She was deep in thought, so he carried on, re-packing his kit. "As to this terminal, you've got a programming glitch in one of the subprocessor bridges. I'll access it from the Ops office and get it corrected by the end of Beta today."

"Thanks." She smiled at him significantly. "And you know what for, Ensign."

"Anytime, sir," he smiled, slinging his kit over his shoulder.

And he was gone.

---