"Lock Out"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 00h15

***

The chime at the ready room door sounded. Matt looked up from the padd he'd been reading. Had the chime sounded...offkey? He shook off the odd feeling of dissonance in the sound, and set aside the padd and mug of tea. "Come," he called out.

A moment later, Lyrr stepped through the open door. The glance she gave the door was unkind and the flustered look on her face was a clear indication that something was going on. Matt raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, knowing full well the question was a stupid one because nothing could fluster Lyrr enough so that it showed.

"Not exactly," she replied, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "It would seem that...I can no longer gain entry into my quarters." Sighing, she added, "I tried everything, even overriding the controls, but the damn thing refused to open for me."

"Refused to--?" Matt frowned. "Computer verify security authorization for Lyrr Tayla, Commander."

"Commander Lyrr Tayla has Level Two security clearance."

Matt's frown deepened. "Computer, restore Commander Lyrr Tayla's security clearances to level gamma nine."

"Commander Lyrr Tayla's security authorization has been restored to level two."

Matt raised an eyebrow and looked to Lyrr.

She sighed sharply. "See? The same type of thing happened when my replicator refused to produce anything other than skirts."

"It sounds a whole lot like someone playing a practical joke," Matt said. "Do you know of anyone who might do that?"

Lyrr lowered her eyes evasively, but shrugged nonetheless. "I do...but I think he's been in enough trouble lately."

Matt nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it'd be disheartening. However..." He thought back to the chime, and the slow-opening door. "Have you noticed anything else? Anything else...odd?"

"Not really," Lyrr answered slowly. "Anything the matter?"

"I haven't really noticed anything...specific," Matt said. "Just odd things. The sound on the chime when you got to the door, it was off- key. And, then the door seemed like it took longer to open than normal. Maybe it's nothing, but we need to get your security clearance restored."

She chuckled. "Or I'll begin to question your trust in me?" she offered.

Matt laughed. "Well, not exactly," he said. "But, I don't think it would look good to have the ship's executive officer sitting forlornly outside of her quarters, unable to get inside, shower, or change her uniform."

Lyrr smiled again. "I think before that happens, I'll contact Operations to look into the problem. But in the meantime..." She gestured to the empty chair opposite Matt's, and with his permission she took it. "While I'm here, there's something I should discuss with you. As captain of this vessel, and considering it involves your first officer, you have a right to know."

Matt leaned forward slightly in his seat, and nodded for her to continue. "Of course," he said. "Go ahead, Commander."

"Yes, sir." She sighed and composed her features into a mask of impassivity, then began. "You know of my relationship with Commander T'Kal. But I'm not certain if you understand the depth of it."

Matt nodded. "Yes, you've mentioned the relationship, as has Commander T'Kal."

Lyrr frowned quizzically. "He has? How-- What has he told you?"

"He came to me with concerns over his interaction with Xayella on the Away Team," Matt said. "He mentioned his involvement with you, that you're now sharing quarters, and that he thinks you need a friend."

"What?" Lyrr laughed in disbelief. "That's not true - the sharing quarters part, yes, but needing a friend?" In fact, she could fathom how Ben might come to such a conclusion, but giving Matt, her captain, the impression that she might be having personal problems was the last thing she wished to do. "Captain, whatever Commander T'Kal thinks is simply his overweening concern for me. He's a very compassionate man, and I believe this sometimes causes him to care too much." She smiled reassuringly, then. "I don't need a friend, Captain, despite what he thinks. I really am fine."

Matt nodded. "I already told him you didn't want me as a friend," he said, his face impassive and neutral. "He seemed to think otherwise. Was there anything else about your relationship with Commander T'Kal you felt I should know about?"

Lyrr cleared her throat and shook her head. There were some issues best left untouched. "I just wanted to inform you of our living arrangement, but since he already has...." She rose and offered Matt a tight smile. "I'll go and see about someone repairing my door, and perhaps I should have Lieutenant Sam run a shipwide diagnostic on all systems."

"I don't think the problem is the door," Matt said, standing as well. "Computer, restore Commander Lyrr Tayla's security clearances to level gamma nine. Authorization Salinger-Omega-Theta-Three."

"Commander Lyrr Tayla's security level has been restored to level gamma nine."

"Set authorization to change gamma nine clearance to captain only, including the ship's computer."

"Authorization to change gamma nine security clearance now requires Captain Matthew Timothy Salinger's authorization."

"Reconfirm Commander Lyrr's security clearance."

There was a slight pause from the computer before it replied: "Commander Lyrr Tayla's security level is gamma nine."

With a shake of his head he looked to Lyrr. "If my suspicions are correct, you should be able to get into your quarters now. Though, please have Sam run that diagnostic."

"Definitely, Captain." She bowed her head and took her leave, glad to have escaped an uncomfortable conversation.

Matt frowned and turned back to the padd on his desk. "Nothing further, Commander," he said. There was a pause, as if there was something more he wanted to say to her, then he activated the padd and began reading once more. She neither needed nor wanted a friend, and their relationship would be professional, despite the strain of their inability to talk to each other. He couldn't and wouldn't force her to be a friend...then again, it appeared there was nothing he could do, either, to ease the tension that seemed to actually have mass and weight. He just hoped it wouldn't start bearing down on them...with their past troubles, he didn't think it would be a strain their professional relationship could take.

---

"Just Happened To Be Here..."
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Holodeck, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17, 05h00

***

Benedict walked through the almost deserted decks of the Sulu on his way to holodeck three. It was 0500hrs and the ship was on night cycle still as the Gamma shift crew were getting ready for their last hour of shift and Alpha crew were barely awake.

He pulled his hair into a ponytail as he walked. As usual he wore his exercise suit, black form-fitting material that allowed the skin to breathe as well as remain dry when exerting oneself.

The suit was striped with golden bands that resembled a tiger of Terran origin. He used the uniform during Springball matches with Lyrr, partly to distract her from her game, and he grinned remembering Shirik had done similarly to him.

He arrived at the holodeck a few minutes after five, and began the process of starting his regular program.

Shirik had gotten up early this morning, in a plan set in motion during a routine inventory of holodeck time allocations. She'd found an interesting tidbit of information: Ben's morning workout routine on Holodeck 3.

She'd decided this would be a good morning to just happen to bump into him. She wore her black suit, and this morning the zipper was opened just a bit, revealing that hollow at the base of her throat. She'd accessed the holodeck logs to see that the program usually run wasn't something extreme like orbital skydiving, and found a simple running program. That she could handle.

So, dressed in her exercise outfit, she just 'happened' to come down the corridor to the same holodeck at the same time of the morning, and there was Ben, punching commands into the panel outside the Holodeck. She feigned surprise to see him there. "Hello...?"

Benedict turned to the sound of the familiar voice and smiled. "Up early?" he asked as he tapped out his authority code. "And dressed for sparring I see..." His eyes followed the movement of her body as she came toward him, graceful and poised as always. The suit she wore was the same one she'd sparred in, only this time it was worn more casually.

Shirik smiled. She couldn't help it, something about being around him just made that smile come to her lips every time. "Yes, I had reserved the Holodeck this morning...but I see you beat me to it...." Just being around him made her feel good, too. She felt sexy, beautiful, and graceful, and it altered the way she moved without her even realizing it. She was relaxed, much of her normal reserve simply not there.

"Reserved?" He looked at the holodeck doors and back at her with a frown. "Sorry - I might have used my authority code to override your booking, I didn't realize... I'm sorry - if you'd like, you can have it. I can run another time." He gave her a smile that said it was okay. For five in the morning, she looked great; he felt a little tired from a late evening of writing reports.

"Nonsense," she smiled. "I don't mind sharing. I'd like to see your program."

Benedict smiled and shrugged. "It's just my home Province on Bajor. I have a running track. You're welcome to join me if you can keep up." He widened his smile at the challenge. "Can you run?"

Shirik looked down at herself. "Hmm... I do have legs...." She looked back up at him with a playful smile. "I think I can run, yes." She laughed softly. "I'm no stranger to the track, it was part of our regimen of training back home."

Benedict looked down at her legs as she did so herself. He chuckled at her comment and nodded. "Yes indeed," he said, grinning. "You do have them." He noticed that she wore her Kemla even here. His own blade was in his quarters, he didn't see a need to carry it into the holodeck. The doors opened onto a bright Bajoran autumn day. Trees surrounded the glade, with golden tones and silver leaves scattered on the ground in a thick cushion.

"After you," he waved her in.

Shirik stepped into the room and looked around, her gaze taking in the scene. "It's beautiful..." she said. She nudged at some of the leaves on the ground with her toe. "Bajor must be a nice place... I've never been there."

Benedict nodded. "It's beautiful, you should have taken the opportunity to see it when we were at DS9!" He looked around himself, starting his warm-up regimen. "I'll be happy to show you around when we get back," he said. He began stretching, dropping into a split as he looked up at her. She was small, almost tiny, as Ben was a little over six feet in height and broad shouldered. He almost dwarfed her. "This is what my home looks like in autumn," he said with a smile. "I love this time of year."

"Well, at the time I didn't know any Bajorans, and I don't speak the language, and I had no one to show me around, so..." She shrugged. "I stayed up here. But I'll certainly take you up on that offer if it's still open when we go back that way." She started her own stretching exercises. "But, I have a bone to pick with you."

"A bone?" He looked a little confused. "I don't understand."

"It's a figure of speech...a human expression. I'm surprised you haven't picked it up in your travels." She straightened once more, her smile gone. She now wore that expression that Cris Sefton found so difficult to read, to tell whether she was serious or not. "Are you under the impression that my computer core needs guarding?"

He grinned. "I know what picking a bone means, Shirik. I didn't know that I'd done anything to warrant you picking over my bones."

He stretched out to touch his toes, muscles bunching beneath the skin tight suit he wore.

"Sorg is a good officer. He does as he's told." Benedict gave her a steady stare, his violet eyes locked on hers. "The short answer is yes." He nodded. "The Computer core does need guarding."

He grinned. "I was under the impression it wasn't yours."

It took an effort for a moment to keep her expression neutral, with the naughty thoughts his words brought to mind. But she managed it. She folded her arms in front of her with a frown. "When I'm in it, it is mine. And just because I can't best you in a knife fight doesn't mean I'm unable to defend my territory should it be required." Her eyes were hard as amethyst. To her mind, the core was her territory, and she'd defend it against all enemies, to her death. That was in her expression.

He smiled. "I know that you would," he said seriously. "I never meant to dispute that." He climbed to his feet and dusted off his uniform.

"Then why the guard?" she asked, watching him. The suit he wore was rather distracting, but at the moment she was more focused on her annoyance at having a babysitter in her core.

"In wartime, or enemy territory, one takes precautions. The computer core is the brain of the Sulu. If a boarding party managed to beam aboard inside the core...all it takes is a stray shot."

"Sorg is there as a precaution," he replied. "I'd hate for the captain to be upset with me because I managed to get a Princess of the Drokari shot...and don't say it!" He waved a finger at her. "You still are an ambassador for your world!"

"I may not serve in Security, but my core is very secure. Don't think I haven't taken my own precautions for such an event." She stopped as he wagged his finger at her, then frowned. "Do you really think I would be missed if I were gunned down out in space?" she said, her voice quieter now.

"Of course!" he replied. "Why wouldn't you be?"

The hardness drained away as she frowned, at herself now. She shouldn't have said anything, but it was too late now. She turned away to finish stretching. "To you, all of you here, being a Princess seems like a big deal. But back home, I'm nothing. The Fifth Princess is nothing but a name. I'm out here at all because I'm expendable."

Benedict was surprised by that revelation. He took a few seconds to digest it. "I'd miss you," he smiled. "I don't think you're expendable. Shall we run?" he asked lightly.

Shirik straightened once more, and let the subject drop. "All right," she nodded. "Let's."

Benedict started off at a brisk pace until he got comfortable. Then he picked it up, loping along easily. The path was just wide enough for two persons to run alongside each other. The trees extended along both sides of the trail for the first four kilometers and he settled into his usual stride.

She had to run faster just to keep up with his long legs. He slowed a little as it became obvious.

The trail wound through the dense forest, the blue sky and white clouds drifted by overhead as they ran. Benedict kept his energy for the running.

Shirik ran along with him. While it was true her shorter legs meant more strides to stay up with him, she didn't seem bothered by it. The oxygen-rich atmosphere on board ship compared to the thin atmosphere of her world helped. She looked around at the scenery as they ran, but the previous conversation stuck in her head. She was still bothered by it. It was far too easy to confide in Ben, to tell him things she wouldn't ordinarily say to anyone. She wasn't sure she liked the effect he seemed to have on her. It could be dangerous.

Benedict looked across at her as they emerged from the trees. The woodlands gave way to meadows of long grass and wildflowers.

Hills stretched into the distance, and the far mountains seemed purple in the morning light. He gave her a smile, his black uniform was darkened by sweat and he wiped his brow. "I should get you to add some things to this program," he said as they ran. "There's no animals...just basic plants, no birds."

His voice brought her back from her thoughts. "I could, if you like," she said. "Birds, rabbits, prowling Gunthars..." She smiled a bit.

"I wouldn't mind that," he said. "Hunting is a sport I enjoy."

"No, you don't hunt Gunthars," she smiled now. "They hunt you." The smile faded once more as she thought of home. In some ways she missed it terribly, and in others she didn't care if she never saw it again. Her skin was shiny with perspiration, but she wasn't tired.

"Then I would enjoy it even more!" he grinned at her as they started out into the fields of flowers. Farm houses dotted the hillsides, but nothing moved other than the wind and the two runners.

Shirik frowned suddenly as she looked around, and it was all too familiar. It reminded her of the planet...the dead planet. Houses and plants, but nothing alive except them. She shivered.

Benedict saw her expression and he too felt it. "It's too quiet," Benedict said, picking up her thought as if she had spoken it. "I'd like some animal noises." He too had made the connection with the object of the Sulu's explorations.

"Computer," she called as they ran. "Add random birdsong." She relaxed a bit as chirps and twitters came from the trees. "That's better..."

"I didn't think it would be that simple," he grinned. "Your programming ability astounds me." He laughed as he saw her expression.

Shirik couldn't help but to laugh at that. "What can I say, I'm a wizard." She grinned. "Actually, I'll make some improvements on the program for you, add some flavor to it. It won't be too difficult."

"Thanks," he breathed. "I'd appreciate that." He grinned wickedly. "Okay - you up for a sprint?" He asked it as he picked up the pace, his legs pumping faster as he accelerated.

She rolled her eyes as she sped up, nodding but not wasting any breath on answering. It had been some time since she last ran regularly, and the distance was beginning to take its toll on her.

"Only ten klicks this morning!" He shouted. "Then a swim!"

Shirik nodded, concentrating on keeping up. A swim was beginning to sound really good. Despite the breathability of her suit, it was getting warm with all her exertion.

The fields were left behind as they sped into more hilly country. The trail began to wind more vertically than horizontally. Dips and slopes, switchback trails along the steep hills and gullies became the norm. This was the endurance part of the run and Benedict slowed down so that it didn't take too much of a toll on either of them.

The hardest part of the run coupled with the fastest pace was wearing her down. But while her muscles began to complain, she didn't. She only dug deeper into herself, stubbornly not giving in to pain and weariness, forcing herself to go on and not lag behind. It was her way.

As the trail wound downward through some pretty rugged terrain, Benedict eased up. The lake came into view shortly, and the flat glassy surface reflected the sunlight and set up a heat haze across the water.

The waterfall dropped from the opposing cliffs, and it was magnificent. It wasn't native to Bajor. Benedict had added it as a part of his program from a similar feature from Terra Australis, the place he grew up. The highest falls of Kilamanji, they cascaded down the side of a mountain, dropping sheer to the lake in a thunderous noise.

The rock outcrops surrounding the falls allowed for a variety of uses. Sunbathing on the highest flat topped rocks, to standing under a section of the falls, or riding a water chute for some unabashed fun.

"You in for a swim?" he asked as they rounded the trail and the falls came into full view.

As they came to where the waterfall was in view, she had to stop. Not from exhaustion, although she was close, but from the breathtaking view before her. She stared out at the thundering falls, taking in heaving breaths. "Wow...." she gasped. She nodded. "Oh yes...yes."

He pulled up as she stopped and rested his hands on his hips, breathing hard. He grinned. "This is from Terra Australis - the colony I grew up on," he said. "I swam here at least twice a week with all of my college friends."

She nodded, taking in air. She was more winded than she'd expected to be, and it was taking longer to regain her breath. She thought she must be more out of shape than she'd imagined.

He pointed to where the trail meandered to the water. "That way," he said and started walking.

He hadn't thought about swimwear. Usually he swam naked, but under the circumstances he thought better of that. His suit would have to do. "Can you swim in that suit?" he asked.

"It's gorgeous," she said in wonder. She walked along, thankful they didn't have to run the rest of the way, she didn't think she was capable of much more running.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you normally swim in yours?" she asked, looking over his suit. It didn't strike her as one meant for swimming.

He laughed, though slightly embarrassed. "No," he admitted. "Usually I don't have company."

Shirik smiled. "Don't mind me," she said. "Pretend I'm not here if it makes you feel better. I don't know about you, but I'd like to get out of this hot sweaty suit."

His eyes imperceptibly widened. His first thought was of Tayla and what she would think. He didn't have any modesty taboos. He'd been brought up on Terra Australis and bathing naked in public with both sexes was quite acceptable behaviour.

The look in her eyes wasn't entirely innocent either. He had to think about that. He just laughed as they arrived at the edge of the water and kicked off his running boots. With a shrug he turned away from her and unzipped the suit, dropping it to the rocks. His body glistened with sweat as he stepped up onto the rocks. He purposely ignored her as he dived cleanly into the water.

Shirik just smiled as she watched him. She knew nothing of his background or his views on such things as public nudity, and she was fairly certain he knew nothing of hers, either. But she wasn't embarrassed or uncomfortable by either his or her own nudity. At home, nobody was.

Shirik kicked off her boots as well, and unzipped her suit, gratefully slipping out of it. She didn't care what anyone else might think. Her black skin shiny with sweat, she dove over the edge into the water below.

Benedict swam strongly across the cove. The water was cool but not cold and it was perfect to refresh tired muscles. As he reached the far side under the falls, the water bubbled and roiled under the cascade. He stepped up onto the ledge that passed beneath the water. Waist high, it was perfect for standing beneath the falls.

He let the water wash him clean, standing and stretching beneath the waterfall.

Shirik closed her eyes, gliding under the water, letting its coolness refresh her. She was feeling better now, she'd gotten her wind back. When she broke the surface once more, she took a deep breath of air and looked around for him. She didn't see him behind the falls, but wasn't worried. One couldn't get lost on a holodeck, after all. She spied the rocky flat ledges along the shore, and swam towards them, to heave herself up into the sunlight once more.

She sat on the ledge and squeezed the water from her hair, turning her face to the sunlight and letting its warmth dry her body with a sigh of pleasure.

From her new vantage point, she could see Ben at the edge of the waterfall, and admired what she could see of his form, offering him a warm smile.

She was perched on the flat rocks, sunning herself by the time he stepped out of the falls. Her body was an ebony shape laying in plain sight. She was smiling at him, her hair unbound and extremely long, cascading down her back to rest on the rocks. She looked stunning, and she made no move to be modest.

He had to swallow hard as he gazed across the water at her, a lazy smile on his own lips. He was glad of the water, but it could be a few degrees colder, he thought as he dived under it.

He swam under the water, along the sandy bottom of the crystal clear pool, until he reached the rocks. Surfacing, he rested his elbows on the edge and his chin on his arms. The sun made her into a darkened silhouette above him.

"Welcome to my morning routine," he grinned.

Shirik grinned down at him, and couldn't resist reaching to push a strand of ebony hair away from his face. "It's very nice. Thank you for sharing it with me," she said softly. She scooted over to dip her feet into the water, sitting near him. "It really is beautiful. Who helped you program it?"

He was extremely aware of her proximity as she moved to sit beside him. When she reached out to touch his hair he almost shied away; it was an intimate gesture that seemed to be a natural one for her to make. Considering the frustration Benedict was under of late, her unselfconscious nudity was having an effect on him. He smiled at her a little uncertainly as she asked about the program. "It was made a long time ago," he said. "On the USS Galaxy. The places are real - just on two different worlds."

He could smell the scent of her skin, and her thigh touched his arm as she idly kicked her feet in the water.

As he looked up at her he had to glance past her breasts, trying to look into her eyes rather than roam her exquisite form.

She was trying with conversation to make him feel more comfortable. She assumed like most humans, he was simply embarrassed by naked people. "Don't be shy," she said. "I won't be offended if you look. Get it out of your system if you want. I'm not embarrassed."

He grinned. "If I looked any more than I have it would be inappropriate." He shook his head. "You're an extremely attractive woman, Shirik. I'm afraid that if I did look I certainly wouldn't be getting it out of my system!"

Shirik laughed softly. "I only thought it might make you feel less uncomfortable. Nakedness is nothing among my people, and we aren't ashamed of being looked at and admired."

"Well that's a blessing!" he laughed. "I'm not uncomfortable with nakedness either," he admitted. "It's your nakedness that's making me uncomfortable." He laughed and blushed a deep red.

Shirik grinned, flattered by his admission. "You're very attractive when you blush like that," she said. She noticed that she couldn't see a lot of his body, hidden as he was beneath the water. "If it will make you feel any better, I can promise not to ravish you," she teased.

"That's a promise I'll take you up on," he laughed. "Prophets...." He shook his head and looked back at her. She was beautiful, like a siren of myth, perched upon a rock to lure sailors to their deaths. He could imagine that.

As he looked upon her he wondered what her skin would be like to touch. He drove that out of his mind.

Shirik just watched him for a moment, the way the sunlight danced on his wet hair, the little smile on his lips, the way he looked at her. She liked the way he looked at her.

"So...why Sorg?" she asked. "What made you choose him as my new guard?"

"Sorg's a good man," he said. "He's one of the best I have under pressure...always keeps his head and he's reliable. I figured if anyone could put up with you he could." He grinned and laughed as he shoved away from the rocks.

She shot him a mock glare as he pushed away, splashing water at him with a kick of her foot. "You'd better run," she grinned.

He laughed and rolled over in the water, diving away from her and swimming powerfully. He broke the surface in the middle of the cove.

Shirik shook her head with a smile, and scooted to the edge of the rock to slip into the water once more, swimming more lazily, just enjoying the feel of the water. It had been a long time since she'd had a swim, and wondered why she hadn't done so in a holodeck before.

Benedict dived again, this time swimming further out. He surfaced and started to swim in earnest. The water was cooler in the deeper areas and he felt it invigorate him as well as quell any rising interest he had in Shirik Lektar.

Shirik dove as well, seeking the bottom of the pool, just curious as to how deep it was, swimming out to the middle under the surface before drifting back up for air once more.

When he started back he thought of the cave under the waterfall and the underwater channel to reach it, but thought better of revealing its presence to Shirik. She was beautiful, and try though he might, he still caught glimpses of her body in the water and her impish smile when she caught him looking. It wasn't quite as frustrating as sleeping with Tayla - but it could come close!

Shirik broke the surface once more and rolled onto her back, closing her eyes and floating along the surface.

Benedict swam lazily around the cove, until he climbed out onto the rocks and lay down to dry off. He watched her swim, his head resting on his arms. They didn't have much time remaining. The holodeck had only been booked for an hour and that time was almost up.

Shirik turned her head and opened her eyes when she heard him climbing out of the water, and enjoyed the view with a small lazy smile. Shirik steered her way over towards his resting place. "The danger in this is that I no longer desire to go to work," she said.

He chuckled. "I'm with you on that score," he replied. "The sun feels good. We have to dry off, we haven't much time left."

Shirik sighed. "We should do this sometime when we do have more time," she said. She righted herself in the water and just took a moment to look at him, her eyes following the curve of his back. Who knew when she might get this kind of look again, she wanted to remember it well. She finally reached out to hoist herself out of the water beside him. "Do we have any towels?" she smiled.

"No...just the sun," he grinned. Her body was perfect, and her long white hair draped alluringly across her shoulders and hid the curves of her breasts. Her legs were shapely and her tummy flat. He had to remain detached from the scene. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Oh, well, that's just as good," she said. She let her gaze wander down over him. She had the urge to touch him, but restrained herself. She gathered her hair up to squeeze the water from it, then shook it out, tendrils of it coming to rest draped across his back. She wanted to talk some more, but there was so little time left, and she didn't want to break the serenity of the moment.

Benedict closed his eyes and listened to the water falling not so far away. It was calming. When she shook her hair loose and it fell across his back it made him jump with a start and grin, it tickled.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I hope you won't get too sore from the running," he said. "If you're not used to it it can hurt for the next couple of days." His eyes remained closed so that he couldn't look at her shapely form laying out next to him.

"I have a good massage program you can use if you like. It's shiatsu, very good for you," he murmured as the heat of the sun dried his back. The golden tiger tattoo almost blazed in the sunlight.

Shirik noticed his jump, but thought it due to the chill of the water on his back. She reached to pull the stray tendrils away and found herself staring at the tattoo of the cat sprawled across his back. "I may take you up on that," she murmured, leaning closer for a better look.

"That almost looks like metal..." She frowned slightly. "Is it?"

"Yes," he replied. "It's pure gold, annealed to the skin layers." He looked across at her, and discovered that she was right beside him, sitting up and staring intently at his tattoo.

The sight of her almost took his breath away. He could smell her scent, distinctly female and earthy, almost dusky. It was a scent that went straight to his brain.

"Why would you wish to put metal in your skin?" she asked, raising a hand to reach out to it but stopping. "May I...?"

He nodded absently. "Gold doesn't tarnish. It's a good conductor so I have to be careful," he smiled. "I had it done as a permanent reminder of my father and mother - mostly my father. His name was Martin Tikaru. The tiger was his spirit animal and it became mine. It has led me through visions sometimes." He had no idea why he told her that. It wasn't something he readily discussed with anyone.

Shirik reached out, trailing her fingers along the golden skin, fascinated by it. "But why metal? Why not paint? Does it hurt? Can you feel anything with metal there?" She was full of questions now, her curiosity aroused by the uniqueness of the tattoo. "What kind of visions?"

He chuckled. Her finger tracing the cat tickled and his shoulders jumped and he laughed. "That tickles." He rolled his head to the side, his hair draped his shoulders in a black mass. "It was done by a master artist, the gold is annealed using some technique I can't even explain...an ancient Bajoran technique passed down from father to son. I don't know."

Shirik took her hand away, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I didn't ask you how it was done," she smiled. "But I think my question about whether you can feel anything was answered."

"Oh yes...I can feel." He chuckled.

"It's beautiful just as a work of art," she said softly, her eyes traveling over it and the form it covered. "And obviously it was masterfully done, to leave the skin still sensitive even with the metal embedded. I've never seen anything like it before."

"Neither had I at the time," he replied softly. "My father put great store in the spirit of the great cats. The tiger was a paramount predator. There was nothing other than man who hunted it, and even then it was often the victor. The tiger was my spirit animal when I hunted. A predator with no equal. That's how I saw myself when I was younger.

"I truly thought that I was invincible." He laughed at his own naiveté. "I do not fear death, when I was younger and full of the need for revenge, I sought death - that's why they feared me. They knew that I didn't care about my own life and that made me truly dangerous."

"Vadin shont," she murmured. "Deadly hunter." She reached once more to trace the outline of the tiger, following its striped body down his spine. "And you no longer think of yourself as a predator without equal?" she asked.

Her fingers were tracing his back muscles along the tiger's flank; it wasn't an uncomfortable sensation at all. He relaxed and addressed her question. "That was the arrogance of youth," he replied seriously. "Today - I have yet to meet my match - though the Farehn'ti assassin came closest. But then...." He shrugged, not willing to continue what he'd been about to say.

He smiled. "Vadin...dangerous? What's the word for woman?" he grinned.

Shirik chuckled. "Lig," she said. "Vadin lig." Her fingers followed the tiger's body, all the way down to where it traveled across his buttocks, very much enjoying the feel of his skin under her fingers, and glad to have an excuse to touch him.

Benedict tensed as her fingers traced the cat's haunch, right across his butt. She wasn't shy, but then he already knew that. This was definitely crossing a line. "You shouldn't do that," he said softly. "The tiger bites...."

As soon as he tensed she knew she'd gone too far, and inwardly cursed herself. "Klobon," she said quietly, her hand moving back up his spine. "Sorry."

"S'okay," he murmured. "Just a little higher...there's a knot in there somewhere." He smiled as her hand travelled up his back.

Shirik smiled, her fingers now seeking out that knot. "Here?" she asked until she found the right spot, then began expertly kneading it out.

He let out a soft groan as her fingers dug into the muscle; there was a knot there alright. He kept his eyes closed and relaxed, she was quite good at what she was doing. "That's...good," he sighed.

"There it is." She smiled at his groan. She brought both hands into play, working the knot out and massaging the muscle. "I used to do this for my mother sometimes," she said. "Like you said, a massage can be good after strenuous exercise."

He nodded. Her hands were tiny but strong, and her skin was incredibly soft. He could feel the heat of her body as she leaned over him. Strands of her hair draped across his shoulder as she massaged the tight muscle under his shoulder blade. He opened his eyes to see the perfect curve of her thigh, and the stark silhouette of her rear. He closed his eyes again and started envisioning field stripping a phaser compression rifle.

Shirik finished working the knot out, and kneaded the rest of his back muscles while she was at it. Her smile faded as she worked, and watched her hands move over his body. She was strongly attracted to him, physically, but something was different. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt different than when they had gone to the holodeck together that first time. Oddly, she felt more comfortable with him now than she had then. And although she felt that pull to him, something inside her was stopping her from doing what came natural to Rennari when they knew what they wanted. She frowned slightly in thought.

The computer chirped. Two minutes to end of session, the female voice intoned.

She sighed, her hands stopping their work and resting on his back. "Are you still awake?" she asked.

Benedict propped himself up on his elbows and regarded her. Their shared expressions once again indicated that they felt something, but did not wish to acknowledge it. "Time to get dressed before we are the subject of intense shipwide gossip," he grinned, but he was also serious.

Unselfconsciously he got up and walked to his clothing, pulling on the exercise suit and stepping into his boots as he zipped up.

They watched each other dressing, and Benedict gave her a smile, while thinking that she was indeed a Vadin lig.

He felt at ease with her, and although she was obviously interested in more than friendship, he didn't want to spoil the developing friendship by being too uptight as Tagliesh had put it.

The truth was, he liked her, and could feel that they shared many things in common. Probably more than he shared with Tayla. She was just so very different from any woman he had ever known, and Tayla had so many similarities to most of the women he had known.

It was an interesting twist. Perhaps that was it. Her attraction based upon the very fact that she was unique to Benedict's past experience.

"Likely we already are," she smiled, making her way over to her own clothing and slipping her black suit back on. She hadn't heard anything about herself, but that wasn't unusual. One seldom heard the rumors about themselves being spoken while they were present. She slipped on her boots and strapped her Kemla back onto her thigh.

She smiled over at Ben, not in the least self conscious about getting dressed or undressed in front of him. But he made it easy to reveal many things when she was around him. Maybe too easy.

"I told Lyrr about you," he said casually. "That we went out to dinner, and that I intended to train you. I said that we were becoming friends." He smiled at her as she straightened up. "I hope that's true," he added.

"It is to me," she said with a small smile. "I do consider you my friend, Ben." The smile faded. "Was she mad?"

He chuckled. "She grabbed me in a very private place and warned me not to have any more romantic dinners."

Shirik blinked at him. She sounded rather Rennari. "Did she.... I didn't think Bajorans were like that. So, did you promise not to have dinner with me any more?"

He grinned. "No, I just suggested that next time I played in the lounge, the two of you might meet." He looked upward and said, "Computer - arch." The holodeck arch materialized and the doors hissed open.

"She said she'd like that. Somehow I think putting the both of you in the same room is a mistake. For the occasion I'd prefer no concealed or openly worn weapons be in evidence on either side."

Shirik frowned a bit. "Indeed... I'm not sure that would be a good idea. But then, I know nothing about her." She frowned more now. "I don't go anywhere without my Kemla, you know that. And I gave my word that I would not use it against a member of this crew."

He turned to her as they reached the arch. "Seriously, if meeting Lyrr would make you feel uncomfortable then...that's okay."

Shirik regarded him at the arch. "If she is willing to meet, so am I," she said. Let it never be said that she ever backed down from a challenge, and to her this was one, from the XO.

He chuckled. "I was joking..." he said as they walked out of the holodeck. It was still early. A couple of Gamma shift engineers gave Shirik an appreciative glance as they waited for the pair to vacate the holodeck.

"About using your knife," he clarified as they walked away from the holodeck.

"Oh..." When it came to her weapon, she was very serious, and had difficulty picking up jokes. She gave the engineers an absent nod of greeting as she exited the holodeck.

"How about some breakfast?" he asked her with a smile. "I'll change and meet you in the mess hall in fifteen."

Her expression brightened with a smile once more at his offer of breakfast. "I'll be there."

He nodded and waved as he split off down a corridor to his own quarters. He hadn't set foot in his own quarters in a few days.

She hurried away to her own room. Raina was likely already gone to breakfast, so the room would be empty.

Shirik managed to sonic shower and dress in record time. She had to, she only had fifteen minutes. In a fresh uniform, she headed for the lounge for the first time for breakfast since coming aboard.

---

"Eggs Benedict"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Mess Hall, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17, 06h15

***

Benedict walked into the mess hall in a clean Class B uniform. His hair was pulled back into his usual ponytail and he wore a grin - which for Benedict was unusual for so early in the morning. He waved at a few of the security detail clustered around a table sharing breakfast and wandered over.

A few minutes of idle chat about the day's plans and he caught sight of Shirik as she walked through the doors. He made his excuses and made his way to a vacant table close to the view port. He was unmissable as he walked through the breakfast crowd of Alpha shift personnel.

Shirik smiled when she caught sight of Ben. With the shock of white in his ebony hair, he was always easy to spot in a crowded room. She weaved her way through the room to join him at the table, slipping into a vacant chair. "Fancy meeting you here," she teased.

"Funny about that," he smiled. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" He looked around. "It's full of malcontents and ruffians." The table of security officers had already seen who he was about to sit with and they were shooting looks at each other and grinning.

She laughed softly at the very old line, and her gaze wandered about to the other tables, noticing the security crew's looks. "You're going to get a reputation," she smiled.

He sat down and pulled in his chair and leaned forward so that he could speak quietly. "Smile...we're on centre stage." He sat back and said, "We'd better get in line at the replicator."

Shirik got to her feet to get in line. Smiling was coming to her rather easily this morning, she almost couldn't stop. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a good morning shipboard before shift. She turned her mind to deciding what she wanted to eat.

He followed her and shuffled into line. It was brisk this morning and the crew were filling the place. "I'm hungry," he smiled. "Morning exercise is good for the appetite."

"Me too," she said. "I usually skip breakfast, but not today." When her turn at the replicator finally came, she ordered a toasted bagel with butter and cream cheese and a mug of Klaas. Its bitter smell followed her as she returned to the table.

He grinned as he ordered Eggs Benedict, Raktajino, grapefruit juice, three hash browns and a serving of Bajoran breakfast cake. He sat down shortly after she did and set his meal out before him with relish.

"What's the Klaas?" he asked. "Can I taste?"

Shirik raised an eyebrow at the spread. "You eat well at breakfast..." She eyed her mug. "You can, but it's very bitter, and most non-Drokari find it sickening," she warned, sliding the mug toward him.

"Eat well in the morning, sparingly at lunch and frugally at dinner," he replied. "Though lately it's been the other way around and I have to watch that." He reached for the mug and smelled the contents, the bitter aroma was almost like Blood wine, but heady, almost 'peaty'. He gave it an experimental sip. It was harsher than Raktajino, oily in texture but not too bad. It would be an acquired taste. He took another mouthful and screwed up his face as the bitterness dug in. He smiled as he handed it back. "I have a strong stomach...it'll take some getting used to."

"I generally skip breakfast, eat a small lunch, and a small dinner." She smiled. "I think I've been conditioned by my upbringing." She watched him sample the Klaas, one of the few brave enough to try it after having smelled it, and couldn't help but to grin at the face he made.

"I told you it was caustic," she said with a small laugh. "It's probably not worth you getting used to." She took a bite of her bagel.

"Probably not." He took a swig of raktajino to take the taste out of his mouth. He started to eat his eggs. "A bagel." He smiled. "I would have expected some exotic tastes for you."

"It's a taste I acquired in the Academy," she said. "I find they go well with Klaas." She took a big swallow from her mug and sighed in contentment.

He made a face that was almost comical. Though the taste he'd had was small in comparison he was starting to feel a rush as if he'd had several strong raktajinos. "Is it a stimulant?" he asked, "It's pretty strong."

Shirik grinned again, and nodded. "Yes, it is. How do you think I stay so energetic?" she teased, having another swig with some more bagel.

He laughed as he sliced up the English muffin, added some of the thick bacon and a dab of Hollandaise sauce. Perfect. He ate with a contented smile on his face. "This is good." He motioned at the eggs.

"What is it?" she asked, eyeing it dubiously. Her bagel was half gone by this point.

He grinned. "Eggs Benedict. That's its real name - and of course I had to try it." He pointed at it. "Eggs poached with a touch of vinegar, english muffins; toasted, Hollandaise sauce, which is egg yolk and butter and a side order of hash browns.

"And thick Canadian bacon," he added. "Bacon and eggs on toast... Is the common way to say it I guess." He chuckled as he sipped some juice.

Shirik quirked an eyebrow. "There's a breakfast food named after you? Or were you named after it?" she smiled, and then laughed again. "First name is breakfast food, last name is a stud animal...." She eyed him, almost certain he would blush again.

He did.

"Yes...that's its name. I didn't make it up." He leaned forward and quietly said, "Please don't refer to my name being a stud animal so loudly...."

Shirik laughed some more and nodded. "Yes, yes... I'm sorry..." It took her a few moments to be able to drink from her mug once more without snorting it across the table at him.

"It's not that funny!" he told her. "Do you realize what the security detail would say if they found out my last name actually means that in Drokari?"

He frowned. "I'd never live it down! So if I ever get called that.... I'll know where it came from - no one else speaks Drokari do they?"

Shirik had to hide her mouth with her hand. "Does that mean I shouldn't tell anyone?" she said innocently.

Then she blinked. "Well...not exactly...." The mirth slid off her face as a sudden realization came to her. "Ohhh, khresh.... I did give Mason Farrell a copy of a Drokari biography, with a Federation Standard translation...." She tried to remember if the word had been used in the book at all.

"Oh?" He sat back. "Would you mind asking for it back? He's possibly the worst person you could have given anything to. Take some advice and stay well away from Mister Farrell." His voice took on an irritated quality.

"Tell me...What did he want the biography for anyway? As an opening line to conversation I bet." Ben's eyes narrowed. "He has a certain reputation on the Sulu."

"I can't ask for it back, really... It was in digital form." She frowned in thought. "We had a brief conversation in the Operations office one day. He insulted and mocked me, then tried to make up for it. He asked if he could borrow one of my biographies, and I told him I would provide a digital version.

"Probably he wants to pick up some of the language, and learn about my culture..." She eyed him. "Reputation?"

"He thinks he's a real charmer." Benedict grinned, "He's not popular with the senior staff."

He looked over the table at Shirik. "How did he insult you?" he asked. It seemed that Farrell insulted and mocked Lyrr as well. He was rapidly becoming someone that Benedict didn't want to associate with.

"Oh, one of those," she said. She thought back to that conversation in the ops office. She'd never found him overly attractive, but then being insulted was probably why. She'd been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when he asked about reading material, but now she wondered what his motives might have been.

"It's not important," she said. She didn't want to bring that subject back up, Farrell had only been the last in a long line of mockers of royalty she'd met at the academy.

Benedict nodded without making a comment. Shirik could take care of herself on that score. In fact he would wager that Farrell would come off very second best. He smiled to himself as he ate.

"You promised to teach me Drokari," he said as he mopped up some of the egg with a hash brown. "Do I get to read a Drokari book too?" he teased.

"I can provide you a digital copy too, if you wish," she said around another mouthful of bagel. "Do you even have time to read?"

"That's a good point." He nodded as he drained his juice. "Reading reports and tactical summations, personnel requests, status briefings.... The list is endless these days. I tend to devote my free time to pleasurable pursuits." He gave her a warm smile. "This morning was definitely one of those...."

She smiled around the last of her bagel, a sparkle in her eyes. "Definitely," she agreed. "If you ever want company for a run or a swim again, do let me know."

"It's a regular booking," he smiled. "Join me anytime. Though sometimes Tayla joins me, and I prefer to have her to myself on those occasions. Though usually she's in for a game of Springball rather than running or swimming. So I meet her later - at 0600hrs for a game."

He finished the eggs and bacon and after swallowing the last mouthful he said, "We haven't had any morning time this week. With me on Alpha and her on Beta we see each other after midnight usually. Cuts heavily into my sleep time."

"So, shall I call ahead, or is that an invitation for me to peek in on your schedule?" she smiled, finishing her klaas. "I don't know how you can run like that with so little sleep."

"I'm used to it," he shrugged. "I guess I drink plenty of jino's," he grinned. "Though the pure stimulant value of your Klaas might make a difference."

He sighed, the meal finished. "You can peek," he said off handedly. "At my schedule," he clarified. Though she'd done more than peek today - and so had he. It was strange, now looking back at the morning, there was no awkwardness between them, and he got the distinct impression that she was less seductive and more friendly than before.

"You'll definitely need a strong stomach if you're going to try to drink klaas," she said, and grinned. "Then I'm sure I'll run into you in the morning more often from now on."

"Be nice to have a running partner," he nodded. "Maybe we can combine it with some knife fighting lessons," he suggested with a smile.

"I suppose we could, if there was time," she said. "But I wouldn't want to give up the afternoon sessions, either..." She paused and smiled. "I can see being friends with a Security Chief is definitely going to keep me in shape."

"You're already in great shape. You handled ten klicks easily enough, and I didn't see any excess weight." He stopped and laughed. "Sorry," he said contritely, "I shouldn't make those kind of observations."

Shirik laughed. "It wasn't as easy as I was trying to make it look," she admitted. "And you won't see any." She leaned closer. "Princesses aren't allowed to have any, you know. So don't apologize."

"Certainly, princess," he teased her, using the title she disliked, although the way he said it made it sound more like a compliment. "Well," he said as he used a napkin on his mouth and fingers. "I had better be off to the Bridge. That's one duty post that is unforgiving of tardiness." He stood up and smiled down at her. "Have a good day, and don't give Jurell a hard time."

"I'm sure I will," she smiled, getting to her feet as well. "I'll just go collect him from his table..." She glanced over where he sat with the other security officers. "You have a good day, too, Ben. I'll see you later."

He nodded. "You will," he said confidently. "Later, Ensign." He smiled, and put on his duty face for the day. He walked out of the Mess Hall feeling pretty good about the day.

---

"What Does It Look Like?"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
Crewman Sorg Jurell - Security Officer

Location: Mess Hall, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17, 06h45

***

Shirik watched Ben leave the lounge, then sauntered her way over towards the table where Sorg was seated with his colleagues. "Good morning, gentlemen," she said, turning her gaze to Sorg. "Are you finished with breakfast? I thought you might wish to accompany me to the core this morning."

The six security officers were all male. They watched Shirik Lektar as she moved gracefully through the morning crowd to their table and some of them raised eyebrows and smiled. Sorg just watched her with a neutral expression, not wanting to give his colleagues any clues.

He did however smile as she addressed them.

There was a chorus of greetings and then they turned their attentions to Sorg as she looked right at him.

"Yes, sir," he greeted her with a warm smile. "It would be a pleasure." He slowly stood from the table and nodded to the security officers. "If you'll excuse me, boys, I need to go stand post in the computer core...."

"Hell, there's barely enough room for one in there," one of the men drawled with a sly grin.

"Somebody has to do it," chorused another.

"Where do I sign up?" one of them asked another.

"Special assignment." He grinned and sauntered away from the table. He laughed as he walked away with Shirik.

Shirik flashed the rest of them a smile, then walked off with her guard. As they entered the turbolift she asked, "Do you think they're all jealous?"

Sorg Jurell gave her a wide grin. "Oh I know they're all jealous!" He laughed. "Thank you, sir, you just made me a legend."

Shirik laughed softly. "My pleasure." She folded her hands behind her back and addressed the lift. "Computer Core."

Sorg hadn't missed the fact that the woman opposite had dined with the Security Chief. By the looks of the breakfast conversations and the mannerisms he had witnessed from both of them, it had been a pleasant time for both of them.

She still wore a slight smile that he was sure had nothing to do with him.

He smiled to himself; Lektar was keen on the chief. Her body language had given her away big time. In fact it had been the topic of conversation at their table.

By the looks of it T'Kal hadn't been too disinterested himself. The security team had begun a wager - how long would it take for Lyrr to come gunning for Lektar?

Everybody knew now that T'Kal had officially moved premises. He was sharing quarters with Lyrr - the Ice Queen herself!

As the turbo lift started to move Sorg looked across at the Drokari woman and wondered why she'd been so friendly. It wasn't that long ago that she'd threatened to complain to T'Kal about his presence. Well, judging by breakfast he must have sorted that out already.

"The chief looked in good spirits this morning," he ventured. Maybe he could get an inside track on some of the gossip.

That only made her smile grow once more. "Indeed," she said. "Is that unusual for him?"

Sorg shrugged. "He's been looking a little stressed lately," he smiled and chuckled at an inside joke.

Shirik quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn't ask for details. "Well, he may be in better spirits more often from now on," she said.

He raised his own eyebrow at that. It was the way she said it. It inferred certain things that went hand in hand with what he'd seen at the breakfast table she'd shared with T'Kal.

"Are you seeing the Chief?" he asked casually.

Shirik looked over at him. "We both know the Commander is involved with someone," she said. "So if you mean seeing him in that sense, no." Her smile was gone, her usual neutral expression back on her features.

Sorg nodded, and she'd lost her smile. That wasn't good. "I didn't mean any offense, sir, it's just.... I didn't know if you were aware that he was sharing quarters with the XO."

"I'm not offended," she said. There was a long pause at his revelation. "No... I wasn't aware of that," she said. "But it changes nothing."

Sorg nodded again with a slight smile. "Some of the men, they were starting up a wager." He looked a little uncomfortable, but he liked Shirik and he didn't want to see her get hurt.

She eyed him curiously. "What sort of wager?"

He took a deep breath and continued. "They were betting on how long it would be for Commander Lyrr to come looking for you."

She blinked at him, and tried to determine whether he might be joking. "Come looking for me? You mean to cause me bodily harm?" She smiled at that. The thought was amusing.

"No, sir," he shook his head, "though she's pretty tough. Like Farrell, in ops. She can be pretty brutal to someone's career."

Shirik snorted. "I don't fear her, let her come if she wants." She paused, and smiled just a bit. "Has anyone wagered I might go after her, instead?"

Sorg grinned. "It's not like that, sir," he said carefully. "Some of the guys think that the Chief might be seeing you on the side...you know? I'd like to put the rumours to rest...if you get my drift."

Shirik's smile vanished and her eyes went hard. "The Commander is an honorable man," she said, her voice dropping. "And if anyone says otherwise, they'll have to answer to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sorg nodded, all smiles gone. "But you know how it is...people talk because they have nothing better to do. I'll make sure to let them know that there's nothing in it...at all. Even if watching the two of you together looks like there is."

Shirik looked away with a quiet sigh. "What does it look like?" she asked. "Can a man and a woman not share a meal and laugh as friends without there being something else going on?"

"Not on this ship, sir," Sorg said seriously. "If I were you, I'd be careful to let people know that you're just friends."

"The people on this ship who spread rumors aren't going to listen to any words to the contrary, no matter who they're from," she said. "I don't care what anyone says or thinks. It's none of their business, anyway."

Sorg just nodded. "Yes, sir," he remained non-committal. He couldn't argue that no defense was as good as admission to the gossip crowd.

The lift doors opened and she stepped out, walking towards the core with her hands still clasped behind her, lost in quiet thought for a time. She didn't speak again until they'd entered the core and the door closed behind them. Then she turned to face him once more. "Sorg. Do you think some evening you might like to have dinner with me?"

His eyes went wide. "Erm...." He looked like someone had just punched him in the stomach, his face went pale. "Yeah...I mean...sure." He cleared his throat and smiled. "Hell yes!...Sir."

Shirik smiled once more. "Very well, then. I'll let you know when I'm free." She turned to go to her station, and then paused once more. She went in search of the nearest chair, and brought it to her console. After the run this morning, she didn't think her legs would take kindly to standing up for another 8 hours.

Sorg wondered at that. She always stood at her station all day. This morning she had to sit down? Damn. He stood by the door and took up post, the smile was still plastered on his face. Dinner? With her? Prophets. His throat was so dry he could hardly swallow. He'd never been asked to dinner by a woman before - and to be asked by Ensign Lektar...an officer and probably one of the best lookers on the ship....

Just wait till the guys hear this! he thought with a inward bout of intense glee. She's putting them all off the trail, he thought then. So what? he mused. I'll just make it known that she's asked me out...that's what she wants.

Shirik had a lot to think about this morning, but work came first. She set up the daily maintenance routines and let her mind wander a bit while she waited for the results. She'd had a very good morning, and felt invigorated. She wondered if Ben felt this good, and hoped he did.

But Sorg's words bothered her, and Raina had said something similar to her a few days ago. What exactly were they seeing on her face? Was she broadcasting something she didn't intend? She'd have to watch herself more carefully. The rumormill on this ship was something else, and she didn't want to contribute to Ben's reputation being soiled.

She hadn't asked Sorg to dinner to divert attention to those rumors, although she knew he'd probably think so. She found she liked Sorg, and down here in the core, if something happened, she'd have to rely on him, be able to trust him. It only made sense to get to know him better. And if it boosted his esteem in the eyes of his colleagues, so much the better.

---

"Rough Stuff"
by Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Communications Specialist
and Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist

Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck 4
Stardate: 57908.17, 07h06

***

Nathalie Gui tightened her ponytail behind her head as she strode down to Holodeck 4. Currently she was dressed for battle; white athletic tape covered her feet, black fighting pants were on her legs, completing the outfit was her black karate gi jacket, the design of a small hammerhead shark was stitched in white thread on the front of the jacket. She cracked her knuckles as she tapped upon the controls allowing her entrance inside the Holodeck. The minute she stepped inside she had barely time to leap out of the way as a Vulcan male was thrown in her direction.

The holodeck door appeared suddenly but Case didn't seem to notice as his adversary slammed face-first into the wall it had appeared on, dangerously close to an entering crewmember as she scurried inside. Chief Case took a short run and dropped into a slide, missing a vicious kick at the Vulcan's knee even as the stunned alien moved blindly towards the holodeck door.

Sorien used the momentum of his slide to push himself off the wall and roll over onto his knees. He leapt to his feet with a lightning fast jerk of his entire body even as his staggered Vulcan sparring partner accidentally stumbled out into the corridor.

"No!" Case yelled futilely as the hologram found itself separated from the emitters and faded into blue sparkles that glowed briefly before disappearing.

"Mo Dhia," Case swore to himself. He was bare chested and his muscled back was a criss-cross of glistening scars. He turned towards the interloper, revealing a left eye of dull white with another scar running through it. "May I help you?" he asked carefully, unsure of the woman's rank or position.

"I was just coming down here to use Holodeck to do some sparring exercises myself before my shift starts but I think you obviously beat me to it," she dead -panned. Straightening her sparring jacket she walked over to Case and offered her hand. "I'm Lieutenant Nathalie Gui, currently with Ops but soon to be transferring over to Security...and you are?" she ventured uncertainly.

Case looked at her for a beat before accepting the shake. "Chief Case, sir," he said curtly. "I've been on the holodeck schedule for 0600 to 0730 hours since I've come on board, sir." He let her hand slide out of his own. "Sorry to tie up a holodeck each morning but Ensign Farrell assured me it wouldn't be a problem as long as I had the time available and there were no previous reservations."

"Please I'm not on duty yet you can call me Nathalie, I'm still adjusting to everyone calling me 'sir' ever since I got promoted." She laughed, shaking her head. Idly she stretched her fingers, Case certainly had a strong handshake. "It's alright, I probably should have checked to see if anyone was down here first before coming to use the Holodeck myself; usually I come around here later in the evening after getting off duty. I find martial arts is an excellent way to relieve stress."

"I should probably secure the door," Case said with a glance at it. "But I've been training Ensign Reese and I wanted to give her the opportunity to join me on an off day, if she chose."

Gui nodded. "I understand. Well I'm sorry to say but I'm certainly not Ensign Reese...but...I have been trying to find someone to spar with, Holograms are one thing, sure, but it's better to have a living, breathing opponent than just some illusion to fight against. Would you be at all interested in sparring with me?"

Case studied Gui carefully. "What style do you practice, sir?" he asked.

"I'm very well versed in the style of Ishin-Ryu. What styles do you practice, Case?"

"Almost exclusively the unarmed forms of Anbo-Jytsu," Sorien said, smiling a little. "But I know defensive counters for dozens of martial arts. Ishin-Ryu is in my repertoire."

"Anbo-Jytsu. I have heard of it but never seen it practiced by another before..."

"Never?" Case asked, almost incredulous. Anbo-Jytsu was very popular at the Academy and was often regarded as the pinnacle in martial art evolution on Terra. Much as Ishin-Ryu was a hybrid of styles so was Anbo-Jytsu. Case couldn't imagine she'd never seen a demonstration.

Nathalie held a finger to her cheek as she thought for a moment. "Come to think of it I think I recall having a Vulcan opponent who used that style against me when we once sparred, from what I can recall it uses a multitude of different styles and moves...of course this is going purely on memory," she finished, chuckling.

"Anbo-Jytsu is Omega," Case said, smiling. "It is the end result of thousands of years of Terran martial arts evolution." Case bent down and picked up his gi but didn't put it on - he only wiped sweat off his face. "Ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready if you're ready," Nat replied as she fell into a defensive stance.

Case smiled and dropped his gi to the floor. They began to circle one another warily, Case looking strangely relaxed and standing flat-footed as he stepped around Gui, checking off a short list of vulnerabilities in his head. Her stance was good overall but she had a habit of overextending her front leg when she shuffled from right to left. If he could catch her on a switch, she'd be offbalance. Still, her footwork was quite advanced for someone so young.

Gui observed Case's footwork and stance before deciding on the course of action she would make in delivering the first blows to her opponent. Moving forward quickly Nat delivered a straight punch to the chest followed by a reverse uppercut. Preparing to block Case's counterattacks Gui attempted to execute a low roundhouse kick to the knee.

The punches came fast but not fast enough for a strike - Case avoided them simply by stepping back out of their range, recognizing them as mere feints for the wide-sweeping kick that was already swinging towards his knee. Sorien pivoted his body slightly in an improvisation so that the well-aimed kick was still hurtling towards his knee only now towards the backside. It connected semi-solidly as Case bent it, absorbing the impact. Case allowed it to drop him on both knees to the mat and he swung his fist at Gui's midsection in counterattack.

Gui groaned as she flew backwards, receiving a powerful backhand from Case in counterattack. Briefly winded she flipped herself off her back and delivered a hard set of punches at Sorien's stomach before she ducked down and dropped to the ground in a crouch, performing a sweep kick, sending Sorien towards the ground.

Case reached out with his right hand as he fell, latching on to the ponytail of the crouching Gui just as she made a move to go back upright. She made a pitiable sound as the force of her leg muscles struggled briefly with the momentum of the Chief's falling body weight before she found herself drug to the mat as well, Case absorbing the impact of their now-mutual fall on his left arm. He wound her hair tighter in his hand and tugged not-so-gently until her ear drew closer to his mouth.

"A good sweep, sir," Case said, his voice even and observational though slightly winded. "But if you're serious about Security, my advice is that you lose the ponytail. Either cut your hair or braid it tight to your scalp. You can learn a number of things from Commander T'Kal...however, his hairstyle is something a security officer should avoid."

Case pushed her away roughly and rolled twice, pivoting upon one knee and getting to his feet. He waited at the ready as Gui got to her own.

Gui winced as she stood; Case having literally drug her by the hair hurt like hell and her scalp was now feeling the pain. She stood and began circling Case as she spoke. "In some cultures wearing one's hair long is shown as a sign of bravery that you leave your defense open. Me, I just improvise upon the situation."

Charging at Sorien, Nathalie delivered a hard snap front kick to Case's upper torso before she followed up the attack with an open handed knife strike to the throat. Grabbing Sorien's openly exposed wrist Nathalie pulled Case behind her in a bear hug lock. Wrapping her arm around this throat she then added, "But I'll keep your suggestion in mind."

Case smiled and dropped, allowing her arm to tighten around his muscled neck. She clung hard but she didn't have the strength to check his momentum and found her self going end over end, landing hard on her back. She opened her eyes just in time to see Case's clench fist hurtling towards her forehead. He stopped it a scant centimeter short of contact.

"A lot of cultures don't make it out of their stone age, Lieutenant," Case said, standing back up and circling her prone position. He offered her a hand and an easy smile. "That is what you should keep in mind, sir." He pulled her up.

"I will, Chief." Stepping back Nathalie bowed respectfully before Sorien and smiled. "I enjoyed having the opportunity to spar with you, would you care to have another match with me anytime soon?"

"I'm here every morning until I use up my allotments," Case said, returning the smile. Though I do generally train Ensign Reese every other morning...we might arrange a demonstration for her."

"Sounds like a plan. Anyway I better get going, I'm due to start duty in a few. It was nice meeting you, Chief," Nathalie remarked as she headed out of the Holodeck.

"Have a good day, sir," Case said formally, admiring the rear view until the arch took it from him. "Computer," he said, prompting an answering chirp. Case stood in silence for a moment as he considered pulling up Gui's service record for several strong surges of his heart.

"Initialize Vulcan attacker for Sparing Program," he finally said instead. "Highest level." The Vulcan promptly materialized and instantly rushed at Chief Case as Sorien began looking for another opening.

---

"Paranoid Meltdown"
By: Ensign Kit Markham
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Amy and Kit's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 07h20

***

Kit was seated on the bed when Amy returned. His guitar rested at the other end of the bed, untouched. He looked up as he heard her rummaging in the other room and stood, moving silently to the door. He stood in the doorway for a moment, lurking in the darkness of the room in which he'd been sitting. Finally, he took the last step that would make him visible to her.

"Hey," he said, though the sound was devoid of his usual enthusiasm. "I saw Kelli earlier. I had to swing by the auditorium to pick up an amplifier for the next practice. We started talking, and...and I hear you're doing some martial arts training." He paused, watching her. "So, how's it going?"

"Fine," she replied, her voice falsely cheerful. After fishing a pair of undergarments from the drawer, she pushed it close with much clatter and started for the refresher. Even as she slipped past Kit in the doorway, her eyes never met his. "See, I was going to tell you about the martial arts sessions," she called back, "but...well... How much did Kelli tell you?"

Kit didn't turn to follow after or watch Amy as she moved into the other room, he just continued watching out into the main room. "Does it matter?" he asked. "She told me enough."

Amy sighed, and stopped at the doorway to the refresher. She turned to regard Kit. "It matters, Kitty," she said softly. "I matters because it's all innocent. Sure, Chief Case is a man, and he's teaching me martial arts...but I'm not going to sleep with him, if that's what you're worried about."

"I didn't think I had to worry about your sleeping with your former roommate either," Kit said. "Or mine." He turned to face her. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me with absolute certainty that there is absolutely nothing happening between you and Chief Case? Can you tell me with absolute certainty that the feelings that Kelzira mentioned he gives you aren't going to become something more?"

Amy smiled tenderly as she made her way towards Kit again. "Kitty..." she murmured, and pressed her hand to his cheek. "Nothing is going to happen. I mean...there's attraction there, but Chief Case and I made a pact today. We vowed to keep our relationship professional and platonic. He just wants to train me...that's all."

Kit watched her with his mouth set in a hard line, and finally he shook his head and turned away. As he faced the wall, he let out a cry of frustration. "I hate that it's...that's it's so hard to trust now...to feel safe that nothing's going to happen when my back is turned. Why aren't I enough? Why does every man on this ship seem to get you going up to warp speed?" He glanced back over his shoulder. After a moment, he added softly: "Maybe I should train with you and Chief Case too."

Amy frowned, pensively. "Kit," she said slowly, and exhaled deeply. Her hand touched his shoulder, and gently she squeezed it as she whispered, "I think that would be a great idea."

He turned to face her more fully. "Really? You think it's a good idea?"

She giggled and kissed his cheek. "Why not? We could spend more quality time together, and it'd be fun."

"I think I'd like that," Kit said. "Lately, I feel like I hardly ever get to see you; you're always off doing something else it seems."

"That's only because we're on different shifts," she pointed out with a smile. "But I know something we can do together right now..." Sliding her hand down to his chest, Amy glanced towards the refresher. "I think the tie on my gi is knotted. Maybe you can help me get it undone."

Kit leaned forward, into her, and began working at the knot with dexterous fingers. "I'm moving back to alpha shift, by the way. I'll be the backup helmsman for Lt. McKenzie. We'll be able to see a lot more of each other from now on."

She grinned and nuzzled her lips to his. "I'm glad," she whispered. "It's lonely without you during the day." The belt was untied and her jacket spread open by Kit's nimble hands. She sighed as they smoothed over her chest. "Please, Kitty...you have to trust me again. Why can't you do that?"

"Because of the way other men make you feel," Kit whispered. "The way you swoon over others, and...and how thinking about them affects you. It's not easy, knowing that you get aroused thinking about someone other than me, frequently."

"Not frequently," Amy insisted with exasperation. She pulled away and stubbornly wrapped her jacket closed again. "Kitty...you make me sound like a whore. I'm not!"

"When's the last time someone other than me got you aroused, Amy? How long ago? And, when before that? How often has someone other than me gotten you excited in the last week?"

"How about you?" she asked, her gaze becoming accusatory. "Does Lieutenant Bennett arouse you, Kit?"

"Benn-- Tayor? Amy, what would make you ever think--? Taylor is a friend, nothing more. She's attractive sure, and maybe the night I met her I was curious, but I was also depressed with everything else going on. But, she doesn't arouse me. She is nice to look at and a decent friend, but there's nothing going on between us."

She narrowed her eyes icily at him, and jabbed a finger at his chest as she whispered, "If I'm supposed to trust you, then I deserve the same. Stop being so self-righteous, Kit Markham."

"I'm not the one who cheated already," Kit whispered. "I'm not the one getting turned on by the guy who's teaching martial arts, who's touching her and coming on to her. I want to trust you, Amy, but...but you didn't even say anything to me about this. He's been touching you, making you feel...and you never even said anything to me...about some other guy making you feel the way I should be making you feel. And, I'm supposed to trust you? Trust that you'd just let him keep making you feel that way? Keep enjoying the way he makes you feel, as long as it's hidden from me so you can have me here and him there? And, you can feel good in both places, with him touching you there and me touching you here. You're even wearing jewelry that I've never seen before, that appeared out of nowhere. Just please don't tell me that someone else gave it to you." He sighed and shook his head. "And, I should trust you..."

"I told you we'd come to an understanding!" Amy exclaimed. "Even now you don't believe me!" She shrieked in frustration and whirled away towards the refresher. "What the hell am I still doing here with a man who can't trust me!"

"Can you even trust yourself?" Kit shouted back. "Amy, tell me, based on everything we've been through so far, that my fears are baseless. Despite the things with Dwayne and Farrell and Corran that this is absolutely nothing like any of those. That it won't get out of hand, and things won't happen. Tell me, based on what's happened so far, that there's no chance that things won't go too far. How long has this been going on with Case, Amy? How long has he been touching you and you haven't stopped him until this new understanding?" He took a step closer, his voice becoming more gentle. "Why didn't you do something to stop it before now?"

"Because I didn't realize it was a problem before!" She halted before the refresher again, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as she took in calming breaths. "And it's not a problem anymore," she added softly. "But if you don't believe me, then maybe something needs to change here, but it sure as hell isn't going to be me."

"It took Kelli to point it out to you," Kit said. He turned back to her and shook his head. "So if something's going to change, it has to be me. I can't live in constant fear that you won't recognize problems until it's too late. Maybe things do need to change. Maybe you'd prefer someone...manly...and appealing. Because obviously, I'm neither." With that, he turned toward the other door.

"You're paranoid, Kit," she called to him. "And if I preferred another, why am I still here!"

"Maybe because I'm gullible enough to believe 'It'll never happen again,' " he said with tears glistening in his eyes. "Even after the fourth time. I don't know, Amy. I've put my whole heart into our relationship, but I feel like I have to schedule appointments for your time and affection. I have to keep hearing how appealing other people are, and then I look in the mirror. I keep hearing how wet with desire you get for guys who aren't me, how they get your pulse pounding and your body throbbing. After everything, people look at me and ask why I'm still here. My answer is always the same: because I love Amy. But I feel that my forgiveness and my acceptance is taken for granted. You can do whatever the hell you want with whomever you want, because you know that when you get back here your Kitty will just take you back and love you again. People laugh at me, Amy. People think that I'm some sad, pathetic, whipped sap who will do anything to have you with me, even if it means sharing you with the whole ship. And, now I find out that...that you've been...you may not have had sex with him, Amy, but you've been enjoying his attention, his touch. And, in that time, not once have you even mentioned it to me. You know we've been having trouble, and now this? You know that our relationship is fragile, but you just let this guy touch you and you just soak up the feelings and arousal like it's nothing. And, if something did happen, would it 'never happen again, Kitty?' "

"No," she replied flatly. "Because I said nothing's going to happen, and it won't. But you won't believe a word I say, and no matter what I do, I can't change that. What would you have me do, Kit? How can I convince you if you refuse to trust me?"

"I don't know, Amy," Kit answered. "I trusted you after the time with Dwayne. I even trusted you after the time that things almost got out of control with Corran. I wasn't so certain after the first time I heard about things with Farrell. And, then when I walked in on the two of you again... And, now things have been getting close between you and Case, with him touching and you enjoying that attention. I want to trust you, Amy. I really want to trust you, but...but how many times does this have to happen before it's too much. I...I want to trust you, I want to love you, but...but if it happens again...if it happens again, I won't survive it, Amy. If it happens again...I won't make it. I'm afraid of losing you, of what will happen to me... When he was getting you aroused, when you felt that throb between your thighs...didn't you think something dangerous was happening? I'm scared, Amy, because if I do lose you...I don't know what will happen to me..."

"You'll survive," she assured him coldly. "Because you obviously don't give a shit about me if you're treating me this way," she rasped, "if you give nothing I say any merit! I'm tired of being too screwed up for you, Kit! I'm tired of your 'poor me, I have the worst girlfriend in the world' act! You make me feel worthless," she told him thickly, and angrily wiped at fresh tears. "No matter what I say to you, you question my honesty...you make me feel like a whore, whether that's the case or not. From what you've said here, if you lose me, it sounds like it would be the best thing to happen to you. At least you wouldn't have to deal with a slut of a girlfriend!" Sobbing, she rushed into their bedroom and threw herself onto the bed. Convulsively, she wept into the pillow.

"How am I supposed to feel, Amy? I love you, more than anything. And, how have you shown your love for me? You slept with Dwayne Sanchez. You nearly slept with Corran and Farrell. You go for training with Case, and his touch is turning you on. How is all this supposed to make me feel, Amy? I've been open and accepting, I've been forgiving, but it only led to more of the same. I was told that I should take a stronger line, hold firm and lay down the law. Now, I'm doing that, and just getting slapped down again. I'm beginning to see that no matter what I say or what I do, nothing will make a difference when you get around some guy with a body you happen to desire. You're not a whore, Amy, and I've never thought you were. You enjoy sex and affection, and...and maybe a relationship with me is just getting in the way of what you want."

"But I want you," she whispered hoarsely into the pillow. "Even after all you do is make me feel bad about myself. I told you the truth...and you won't believe me." Giving a strangled sob, she said, "I love you...but you're repulsed by me...and nothing I do can change it."

"I'm not repulsed by you, Amy," Kit said softly. "I've never been, and never could be, repulsed by you. It's just...I've thought you were telling me the truth before. I thought you were telling me the truth after the last time with Farrell. And now...now Case is touching you and you're liking it. I want to believe this is the truth, but...but after Dwayne and Farrell and Corran... Prove to me I'm the only one, Amy. Prove to me I'm the only one you want. Don't hide things from me, don't lock me away in a private room where you can come see me when you're not leading your other life. I feel like you have your life with me here, and then you're other life...the one in sickbay, or at the party, or off in martial arts training, or...or anywhere I'm not. I feel like you're hiding from me, keeping things from me. We've had trouble in the past, Amy, and if we're going to make it, we need to be open and honest with each other. We can't hide from each other...and lately, I've been feeling like I'm this part of you're life that you're ashamed of admitting to."

Amy rolled onto her back, and stared at Kit in tortured disbelief. "What? Kitty, what are you saying!" Sitting upright quickly, she watched him through the haze of tears, suddenly chuckling grimly. "I always thought you were ashamed of me," she told him sullenly. "Kit...I can't live up to your expectations. I'm the failure, I'm the one who should be laughed at..." She swallowed hard, and whispered, "You should be ashamed of me."

"Never," Kit whispered, as he approached her. "I love you too much to ever feel any shame over our relationship, over what you are to me. Amy, I'm sorry, so very sorry, that I've made you feel that I...that you were a failure. I just...it's...it's not easy, to trust when the trust is broken. And, I'm just afraid it will happen again. You keep ending up in situations that test you, that push you, and...and I don't know if you, if we're ready to be pushed yet. I'm afraid of what the temptation will do. I'm just afraid it will happen all over again. That's why...that's partly why I wanted to be there for the martial arts, to help you stay strong, to help you fight the temptation. I want us to make it, Amy. I want us to...to have our home on Alpha Centauri."

"Then let us," she pleaded, taking his hand. "I need to be tempted to get stronger, Kit...and I've promised I won't do anything with Chief Case. I've already told him he has to stop being so feisty. Doesn't that show I'm getting better?"

"When learning to hoverglide, you don't jump out of a shuttle your first time," Kit said. "We should take things slowly. And, we need to make sure everyone on the ship knows that we're together, and we're never parting." He gave her a smile, then slowly brushed his lips against hers. "Ever. And, I can only think of one way to really do that." His grin turned slightly mischievous as he gazed into her eyes.

She smiled ruefully and slipped into Kit's arms. "That shower, then?" she whispered.

"I think so," Kit said, "but first, and I know this may not be entirely the best time for this, but...I can't imagine my life without you in it. When I think of my future and my dreams, you're always there with me, by my side, my partner and co-conspirator, my friend and lover. I never want a day to go by when you're not in my life. With all my heart, despite all the crises, I love you and will never stop. You are the flame to my candle, my inspiration and my song. My favourite type of song, is a duet between two people who are telling a story. Ours is a story I love, and one I want to see continue until our dying day. Amy, will you marry me?"

Sucking in a sharp breath that became a hiccup, Amy pulled back to search Kit's eyes with stunned bewilderment. "Kit..." she breathed. "Are you serious? I-I mean...you sure this is right?"

Kit frowned slightly, then nodded. "Yes, Amy," he said softly, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

She laughed in disbelief. "You really want to marry me? I thought- - You were almost out the door a minute ago and now...." Cradling his face in both hands, Amy stared levelly at him, and seriously asked, "Be sure about this, Kit. Don't do this because you think it'll change everything. Do this because you really, really want to."

"It's what I want," Kit said with a smile. "It's what I've wanted for awhile, Amy. We can make everything right, this won't. This just says that we're committed to loving each other and to making a future together." He rolled to one side of the bed and rummaged in the little chest there. He came back with a box and a big smile on his face. "I've had this since Deep Space Nine, and...and now's the best time to give it to you." He held the box out to her.

Amy's eyes grew as wide as physically possible, and she nearly shrank away from the gift. "Oh...Kitty..." Her heart fluttered, and despite her hesitancy, she brushed her fingers over the top of the box. "This is what I think it is, isn't it?"

Kit gave her a big grin and nodded. "It is," he said. "Go on, open it."

She did, slowly and with a trembling hand. Her eyes were closed tightly and she chewed on her lower lip with extreme anxiety as the lid stopped. "Kitty," she whispered, fidgeting where she sat. Finally, one eye opened. She giggled at the object resting on the cloth lining the box, then her other eyelid flicked open. She touched a finger to the guitar pick sitting among the gentle waves of the fabric; it was fiery red, as her hair had been the first day they met, with a swirl of sparkles cutting across it. As her finger travelled over the pick, she noticed the fabric was slightly raised at one edge, and something glistening beneath it. Amy lifted an eyebrow at Kit suspiciously. "Kitty," she warned, though her lips were stretching into a smile. Brimming with excitement, Amy pushed aside the fabric, and immediately squealed at the ring waiting for her beneath. "Kit!" she exclaimed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, nearly toppling both over the side of the bed. "Oh God...Kitty.... I'll take it. I will."

From where they lay, Kit's arms went around her and held her close. "I love you, Amy Polly Reese," he said earnestly, "and I don't want another day in my life to go by without knowing that you'll be with me for the rest of eternity, or at least until we're too senile to care. I love you, Amy."

"I love you too," she whispered, then gasped and pulled back slightly. "I just thought of it...the Suluists should play at the wedding!" The word alone had her giggling and boisterously kissing his lips. "Wedding...married... Kit...we're getting married!"

"We are," Kit said with a wide grin. "So, should we ask Captain Salinger to perform the ceremony? And, we can play...can you imagine if we could get Tchalla confident enough to sing for it?"

Amy grinned dreamily. "I hope so...it'll be so perfect, Kitty." Frowning, she asked, "Though...how soon were we planning this?"

"Well, we don't have to rush it," he said. "I don't really know. How long do you think it'll be before you want to be Ensign Amy Markham?" She giggled exuberantly at that. "As soon as possible!"

"Good," Kit said. "Maybe once all the business of the planet we're at's over, we can talk to someone about it. And, we can make it official. Oh Amy, for as bad as I was feeling just a little while ago, I'm currently the happiest guy in the galaxy. From now on, I vow to do nothing but make you the happiest woman ever."

"Then for starters," she told him, holding up her hand, "put that damn ring on me!"

Kit laughed, and took the ring from its box. Keeping his eyes on Amy's, he slowly slid it onto her finger. He glanced at the ring, shining happily on her hand. "It looks good there."

She sighed serenely. "It feels good there." Kissing Kit slowly, Amy slid down beside him and embraced him securely. "No more fighting," she whispered. "And no more paranoia. Can we try that?"

"I think we can try that," Kit said with a smile, then nuzzled against her chin and throat. "And, no more hiding from each other."

"And no more accusations," she added with a knowing smile, then kissed the tip of his nose. "So...that shower? It'll be our first together as an engaged couple, you know."

"It will," Kit said with a grin as he slid to the edge of the bed. "I'm going to have to remember, from now on, to introduce you as my fiancée. I think I can handle that."

She giggled. "Me too...fiancé."

"We have to let Tchalla and Kelli know," Kit said. "I'm sure they'll be quite giddy, and I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't try to turn it into a double-wedding."

"Oh...that's right..." Amy looked mildly concerned. "They'll want to walk down the aisle naked, too." Then, she grinned. "My love, I think I'm getting ideas."

"Yeah," Kit said and grazed his lips against hers. "I like your ideas. So, what are these ideas of yours that have you grinning so?"

She smiled coyly as she rose from the bed and began backing out of the room. "I can't tell you," she whispered, "but I can show you." And with an enticing gaze, she vanished.

With a laugh, Kit followed after her, leaving a cry of happiness in his wake. "I like it when you show me your ideas even better."

---

"Honorary Security Officer"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Lt. (jg) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17, 07h45

***

"Now, what are you doing?" Benedict asked. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head slowly to show that he was unimpressed. "Roving patrol officers are not permitted to sit down on the job." He pursed his lips, pondering the fate of the offender.

She looked at him with a cool dark-eyed gaze that told him that she really didn't give a damn. She was tired. She was also thirsty - walking the decks had been tough work. The Security Chief had caught her by surprise. His tone told her that he wasn't happy, but still, he didn't have the look in his eyes that told her that she was really in trouble.

"You can come with me to the Security Office," Benedict decided. "Come on." He turned and started walking.

She bowed her head for a moment and looked at him. His head turned to look at her again and she decided that it was probably best for her to do as he said, so she followed. He waited until she caught up and then they both walked down the corridor toward the turbo lift.

"You know that it's standard procedure for security officers to patrol in twos," he lectured in an even tone. She didn't reply, just looked at him like a scared cadet and so he nodded and smiled. "If Chief Petty Officer Case caught you he'd be putting you on report, but I'll let it slide this time."

A blue collared crewman passed them and gave Benedict a grin. The woman looked almost compassionately at Benedict's companion and kept on going.

In the turbo lift they just looked at each other as Benedict said, "Security Office," and stood against the lift wall. It was a short and silent ride. Stepping out of the lift Benedict had to avoid two security officers about to leave the office and they nodded as Benedict stepped between them. They stood aside and traded looks as Benedict's companion followed.

The Security Office was quiet. It was just before Alpha shift and Benedict walked into his office and waved her to a seat. She decided to stand and just looked at him. "Want a drink?" he asked as he stepped up to the replicator and ordered for them both. He didn't even bother to ask her what she wanted. He put her drink in front of her and she gratefully accepted. Benedict sat back and sipped his green tea and considered what to do.

He grinned. Then laughed softly as he turned back to the replicator and described what he wanted. A moment later he turned back and motioned for her to come closer. She did.

"Well it's official - mostly because I say so, but it wouldn't do to have you snapped up by Thaine in engineering, and I'll be damned if Zareb snatches another one of mine for his special project." He sat back. "There. The Cadet bars suit you - especially on the gold collar." The Starfleet insignia badge was shiny new too. "Now cadet, I think we'd better team you up with a partner." He sat back and considered that too before tapping his commbadge.

"Commander T'Kal to Lieutenant Gui, please report to my office immediately." He gave the cadet a smile. She just looked at him with the same dark-eyed stare.

***

Nathalie had just pulled on her remaining boot when her commbadge chirp. She suppressed a yawn before tapping it on in response. "I'm on my way." After seeing that she properly dressed for duty Gui exited from her Quarters and headed down to the Security Office. Within minutes she stepped inside and found T'Kal sitting behind his desk. Standing at attention Gui nodded to T'Kal.

"Appearing as ordered, sir."

Benedict stood and nodded at Gui. "I'm assigning you to roving patrol for the day," he said without greeting. His face was set. "I'm making you responsible for a new cadet security officer." He waved a hand that drew Nathalie's eyes to T'Kal's chair.

"I believe you share quarters with Cadet Joji ?" He kept the smile off his face with difficulty. "She'd already started her patrol on deck five."

Nathalie nodded and paid no rebuke to T'Kal's orders. Then however she got a look at the Cadet, and then she looked back to T'Kal with a look that said 'Are you serious'. But orders were orders...right? "Yes, sir, I do share Quarters with Cadet Joji...I was not aware of her having a rank however...is this a joke?" she asked, attempting her very best to refrain from bursting into laughter.

"About the patrol, no. She needs exercise - and I think security could do with a mascot," he grinned and raised one brow. "The rank - yes - that's a joke...but the comm badge works so I don't expect her to get lost again. Not that she was lost in the first place I think." He gave the dog a smile. "I didn't like the idea of the larger animals being on board - but she's a house dog and domesticated. Having the two of you roving the decks will give security a more personable presence - we're on our own out here. I think it's important for a bit of morale raising - seeing a touch of home every once in a while. Once or twice a week is fine...understand?" He gave Gui a grin.

Nathalie nodded to Benedict. "Agreed, once or twice a week will be just fine with me and I'm sure Joji will be able to accompany me while I'm on duty, hopefully along with the comm badge it'll make her not want to go out and wander on her own." Joji nuzzled the palm of Gui's hand with the tip of her nose and arfed as though to say she agreed on the subject. Nat chuckled and rubbed the corgi's neck. "I'll be absolutely sure to make sure she behaves, sir," she remarked, looking back at T'Kal.

"Make sure you do," he laughed and moved over to ruffle the dog's ears. "Just don't let Lyrr catch you," he grinned.

"Yes, sir," Nathalie replied before looking back to Joji. "So, Cadet, should we go get started on roving patrol?" Arfing in agreement Joji hopped down from the chair and began to trot over to the door. Gui turned to face T'Kal before following after her pet. "With your permission, sir, permission to start roving patrol?"

Benedict nodded. "Permission granted, Lieutenant. Carry on." He grinned.

---

"Outlet"
By: Lieutenant Brennyn Scott
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Scott's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 08h00

***

Another counselling session. Xayella had thought herself exempted from them finally, but the reminder her computer had delivered earlier in the day dashed her hopes and now she sat before yet another counsellor, essentially twiddling her thumbs. There was much going on that required reflection, and even divulging to perhaps end the nightmares for good, but she simply couldn't open up. Xay shifted anxiously and pressed her thumb and forefinger into her tired eyes. "Are we done?" she muttered.

Counselor Scott shrugged. "Are we? You seemed like you were holding back today. Is there something else on your mind?"

"No," she lied, then sighed and stared at the counsellor plainly. "But could you ask the doctor to provide me with something to help induce sleep?" Xay chuckled weakly. "I think I'm too excited about all this exploration that I can hardly keep my eyes shut."

Scott regarded her carefully for a moment. "Try again," she replied softly.

Xay snorted. "Try what again? You think I'm lying, Counsellor?"

Bree looked at her directly. "Yes, I do. You're not sleeping, but it has nothing to do with excitement. What's really going on?"

She grinned mischievously. "Too much sex? You wouldn't believe the captain's stamina, Counsellor."

Bree shrugged and stood. "Alright, if you want to continue to lie to me, that's fine, but nothing says I have to listen to lies."

Xayella chuckled, a sincere, amused laugh. "I wasn't lying. The captain really is virile." She sighed as her laughter waned, and gestured wearily for the counsellor to seat herself again. "I've been having dreams, okay? Very...vivid ones, and they won't go away, and in order to function I require sleep, which they are preventing me from finding." Xayella shrugged. "So...will you help me?"

"Tell me about these dreams. What are they about?" Bree replied, seating herself once more. She knew Xay would respond to directness, and Scott had no problem with obliging the Science Chief.

"Oh," Xay replied, smiling, "I don't think you want all the details, Counsellor. It's a little...racy." Looking perturbed now, Xayella muttered, "And it didn't involve Matt, and when I woke up, I couldn't shake the memory." She gazed thoughtfully at her fingers picking at the upholstery of her chair's armrest, then asked curiously, "Counsellor, what do you know about mind melds? I mean...do you know what effect they have on non-Vulcans?"

Scott worked to contain her surprise, as she could tell this wasn't an attempt to distract her. Xay liked to say things of import casually, as if she couldn't care less. But Bree had learned those were the moments when the real work began. "I think much depends on the two people sharing the meld as well as what was shared. What we know suggests two people sharing a meld feel a connection long after the initial contact and that it's one of the most intimate experiences imaginable."

Xayella's body stiffened visibly, and her brow noticeably furrowed. "But what about afterwards? I mean...is there an after-effect of some kind? A connection?"

Bree frowned, Xay was clearly concerned. "Why don't you tell me what's going on, Xay. I can't answer your questions until I know exactly what you're experiencing."

Xay sighed. "A connection," she re-emphasized. "A connection with a Vulcan you've melded with." At Bree's silent observation, Xay shook her head in frustration and shot to her feet. "Dreams!" she exclaimed. "He's in my damn dreams - he's even in my mind when I'm awake! Do you know how bloody hard it is to function when all you can think about is some damn Vulcan you don't even like all that much?"

Bree shook her head. "Have you spoken with the person you melded with about this?"

"Of course I have," she snapped. "And he put a fist through my console! How the hell can he help me?"

Bree was puzzled. "Let me see if I understand you. You told him about the dreams and he reacted in anger? Did he say anything to you?" She had a sneaking suspicion she knew what this was about, but God help them, it wasn't good.

"He said he didn't know how to fix it," Xay replied, pacing compulsively now. "He said we were...bonded." She nearly shuddered at the thought. "The trouble is, I hate him, yet I-I desire him. I don't get it!"

Bree bit her lip, nearly drawing blood. She had no desire to be the bearer of bad news, but at the same time, Xay had a right to know what she could be facing. Scott exhaled slowly, regret clearly on her face. "It's possible what you're experiencing is connected to the mating bond. If this Vulcan is due to experience Ponn Farr, it would explain your experiences." There. Completely factual, and to the point. Hark! Was that the sound of the proverbial dung hitting the proverbial fan?

Xayella snorted and shook her wildly head in denial. "He is not going to experience Pon Farr...not while there's still a link between us! If I'm having dreams now, what's going to happen to me when he gets the Blood Fever?" There was slight concern in Xayella's voice, and agitation in knowing she was helpless in such a situation. She sighed and sank into her chair again. "What am I going to do?" she asked softly.

"For starters, I want you to stop blaming yourself. If this is what's going on, there was nothing you could do to prevent it short of avoiding the meld, which I know you must have agreed to for a very good reason. Secondly, as embarrassing as it is, it is a medical condition and it deserves to be treated as such. I'll be honest with you, Xay, given the secrecy surrounding Pon Farr, we still don't know as much about the bonding process as we would like. If we're going to the bottom of this, I'll need to enlist the help of the man you melded with and someone from Medical. But I assure you, this will be handled discreetly."

"I can't do that," she replied adamantly. "Matt will find out and I've done everything imaginable to keep him from learning about this. Besides, I've already spoken to Saavar; he says there's nothing he can do."

"Perhaps there's nothing he can do alone, but we haven't investigated other medical or Vulcan techniques..." Scott leaned forward. "This is clearly upsetting you and it might not be possible for you to live like this indefinitely. Are you worried Matt won't understand?"

"Of course I am!" she cried. "How would you feel if your lover told you they were having arousing dreams about another?"

Bree frowned. "Xay, Matt loves you. If you melded with Saavar out of something other than lust, I'm sure he'll understand. It'll take time, but he can hardly blame you if you felt you had to do this." She paused, not wanting to risk pushing her away, but finally deciding she had to know. "Was this meld with Saavar consensual?"

She sighed. "It was. It...it happened at Risa when Matt--" The memories forced her to pause and collect herself. "Saavar thought if we delved into my thoughts, my subconscious might provide some information about the assassin. That's when the mind meld happened...and I haven't been able to get him out of my mind since."

Bree paused a moment to consider her words, then gently added, "Whatever happens, I don't see how we can keep this from Matt. I think he'll understand and want to help. It's not as if you did this to hurt him... You did it to help him, and it did, right?"

"Of course," she answered irritably. "I did it to get the bastard who tried to kill him."

Bree leaned forward. "Xay, this is not your fault. There was no way you could know this was going to happen, and I sincerely doubt Matt has reason to condemn you for what you did."

"And what if he does?" Xay riposted. "Then what? I am not losing him over this. I refuse to."

"Then it sounds like you'll have some work to do," Scott replied matter-of- factly. "But do you really think he'll react that way?"

Xay sighed. "No...I don't suppose he will. I guess now, I'm more worried about how he'll react to the admission that I was keeping things from him."

"And why did you decide to keep this from him?" Brennyn asked.

"Because," she answered dejectedly, "I thought I could handle it on my own. He's commanding a vessel...he doesn't need my problems weighing upon him, too. I thought it was easier this way."

"So that's what you tell him if he asks. It's not anyone's purpose in life to evaluate the rationality of your emotions, Xay. But...just as an aside, was it easier to keep this from him?"

Xay smirked. "No.... I think he already knows I've been hiding things, and it's only created suspicion, along with a little insecurity about our relationship." She chuckled flatly. "I'm not as smart as I think, am I?"

Scott chuckled along with her. "That is what we in counseling like to call a 'loaded question.' But seriously, I know I don't have to tell you how important communication is in a relationship, especially one as challenging as the relationship between you and Matt. However, consider this: if you're not willing to tell him things because you think you can handle them on your own, consider how he might feel if he wants to come to you with one of his problems."

"Reluctant?" Xayella guessed. "You think he doesn't trust me because of this?"

"Not at all," Bree assured her, "I'm just wondering how easy it will be for him to confide in you if he doesn't feel you confide in him. Maybe he'll begin to feel as though he shouldn't need to confide in you and feel guilty about that."

Xayella sighed. "Great.... I try to spare him some anxiety, and end up creating more." She smiled tightly. "Smart indeed..." Her gaze strayed to the wall chrono, and for once she wasn't in a hurry to leave. "Should I go talk to him now, you think? Should I wait? Should I set up a romantic dinner?"

Bree shrugged. "That's your decision, and truly he might not feel this way. The point is, you'll never know unless you ask. Use your own judgement as to when."

"My stellar judgement?" Xayella quipped, then chuckled and rose. "Well...I need to get back to the lab, and maybe think about all this." Clearing her throat, Xayella smothered her pride enough to mutter, "Thanks." She didn't stay long enough after to hear Bree's reply.

---

"A Mild Case of Epidemic"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
Lt. jg. Tchalla Mel'Chir - Science Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.17, 10h00

***

When Damhnait Sefton stepped out of her office, she found Main Sickbay to be even more oppressive than the tight walls of her little oval room. There were half a dozen more patients suffering from accidental injuries than was usual for this time of day, and none of them seemed pleased with the medical ward's ambience. Sefton had ordered Sickbay's sterilisation field raised to its maximum, a setting rarely used because of the lime green light it flooded the room with, and because of the hum that seemed mild at first, but eventually led to headaches in most humanoid species. Additionally, a narrow wall of white light swept through Sickbay every fifteen minutes, as the internal sensors were set to a resource-wasting level. No more infections would occur inside Sickbay.

Damhnait's hair was piled in a messy spiral atop her head, obviously styled in a fit of frustration in her office, and her Class A uniform belt had been replicated with two holsters; one for a medical tricorder and the other for a PADD. It took her two visual scans of Sickbay to notice Lieutenant Tagliesh. Once she had spotted her, she blandly asked, "Kept you waiting again, have I?"

Not in her usual sardonic mood, Xayella shrugged and answered, "Not exactly. I was just taking a look at some of the samples we collected from Lieutenant Mel'Chir." The name still triggered a note of painful guilt in Xay that she masked with a tight smile. "So, what did take you so long?"

Distractedly shaking her head, Damhnait frowned apologetically and shrugged, "The virus. My studies of it were interrupted last night, because we have more infected patients." Without further explanation, Damhnait turned to re-enter her office, limply gesturing for Tagliesh to follow her.

"It's spreading fast," Xay noted, trailing behind Damhnait. "Many of the nurses seem to be immune--" Her eyes caught and remained fixed to the cascading stream of bandage foam being exuded from Damhnait's replicator. "Large order?" she quipped as she moved to her seat.

"Actually I applied the first batch before it started replicating more," Damhnait admitted, only half of her attention on her verbal explanation. "The replicator was bleeding and wouldn't stop." The pool of replicated blood on the carpet near the replicator slot attested to that.

"Not all of the medical staff is immune," Damhnait ominously told Tagliesh. Catching sight of the virus displayed on the LCARS sprawled behind her desk, Doctor Sefton heavily sighed; "I should never have sequestered myself last night. It seemed wise to get away for exercising and studying the virus, to enable myself to remain in Sickbay for the remainder of this crisis, but when I was -- during Gamma shift Crewman Yulik was identified as being infected. She had briefly encountered Mel'Chir socially after the away mission. And then, during the last of the non-away team crew to be examined, Nurse Anders thought he identified the first Human to be infected, but he had read the tricorder wrong. It was Doctor M'lira who had contracted the virus. Doctor M'lira who I had ordered to remain in charge over Sickbay until I personally relieved her. Doctor Kremer, who worked with her during Beta, caught it during the examinations too."

Under her breath, Damhnait muttered a string of the same Betazoid curse word repeatedly. Approaching desperation, she said, "We have Tchalla Mel'Chir in Operating-One, Yulik in Operating-Two, M'lira in PrivateExam-One, Kremer in PrivateExam-Two, and the break room is being converted into quarantine holding. I know Shuttle Bay two has been converted for quarantine services, but I can't populate it yet. I won't declare an epidemic."

"I don't think it is," Xayella told her. "Ensigns Reese and Derrell were the first to examine Mel'Chir, and they're fine. Those infected, so far, appear to have been in close contact with one another. Perhaps there's a limit to the pathogen's range of transmission."

"That would be consistent with what I found in the subsequent autopsies," Damhnait nodded, as she seated herself and began to calmingly plex a nerve behind her own right ear. "Off of the dead bodies, at least, the virus could not survive very long in the open air."

"Alright," she answered slowly, "then why are only some of those who came in contact with an infected individual affected while others weren't?"

"That is what I have been investigating," Damhnait admitted in a tone closer to her normally even Betazoid lilt. Tapping the controls on her desktop terminal, Caitian, Arcadian, Andorian and JJ324c DNA strands crawled across the upper half of the walled console, while Human, Betazoid, Bajoran and Achicarian DNA strands occupied the bottom half. "The computer and I are trying to determine what the infected species have in common that the unaffected species lack. It will give us a heads up to any other species that are especially susceptible, but have avoided infection by chance."

"So, there's some specificity involved...and this isn't something that just latches onto anything with a beating heart." Xayella nodded thoughtfully. "That's good news...it gives us a potential basis for a cure. If we can figure what Bajorans, say, are lacking for infection, we can easily eliminate it in those affected." She sighed, and muttered, "In theory..."

"There's probably specificity involved. No member of the seemingly unaffected species has been intentionally infected and studied, but it is a likely probability since, as you said, the Human Reese and Derrell were in very close contact with Mel'Chir and show no sign of infection. They don't even show sign of heightened immune system activity," Damhnait carefully said, knowing well the dangers of false hopes. "The cure theory only holds up if the target for infection is not something critical to life in the affected species."

"Well, what is the target of infection?" Xay asked. "We saw those things clustered in the man's lungs. Where have the pathogens been detected in Mel'Chir and the others?"

"Their lungs. It seems to provide the most hospitable environment for reproduction, before the virus enters the bloodstream," Damhnait explained with the aid of animated lungs on the LCARS display behind her. "But, I cannot yet rule out the possibility that the virus has been engineered. It could be targeted to a specific genetic marker within a potential victim's DNA. Without that certain twist of DNA, the virus would not even try to infect the individual." Damhnait's hand swept through the air, as if hoping to physically pluck out an example. "Perhaps one of the races on the planet sought to release a virus to kill only victims belonging to another racial group. Or perhaps they designed this virus with the intention of killing another lesser virus, but bollixed the production. I don't know, but I do know that I have to consider every possibility."

"We need answers soon," Xayella reminded her, but it applied to herself as well as the one who felt responsible for unleashing the virus upon the Sulu's crew. "Can't we run a cross comparison with the infected crewmembers' DNA? Perhaps if we can find those loci that are similar in each of them within a nominal degree of error, we can at least consider the idea of gene therapy."

"Already underway," Sefton reminded her, not unkindly. After another manipulation of her desktop terminal, the animated lungs fell away to return the grouped DNA strands to the screen. "Nothing definite, yet."

Xayella nodded and sighed deeply. "I should have taken better precautions," she reproved herself. "I was just so eager to explore the planet...I just figured everything was safe, since we weren't dropping dead."

"The planet was -- the planet is safe. The pathogen would have been dead and gone had it not been for the stasis chambers. Even then, the pathogen would not have had time to solidly infect Tchalla in light of transporter biofilters, had she not ridden the shuttle back to the Sulu. Blame has no place during a crisis like this," Doctor Sefton confidently asserted. Xayella's unchecked guilt was irritating, but Damhnait used that irritation to fuel her own focus.

"But someone is going to get blamed," Xayella noted grimly. "And considering I'm not the most popular officer aboard this vessel, I'll likely be everyone's preferred villain."

"Then now is the time to arm yourself with that charming tendency of yours to be a bitch for the sake of being a bitch, until they shut it," Damhnait insisted brightly. "Blame later. Find facts and solve crisis now."

Xayella sighed and nodded sullenly. "Fine...I'll let the bitch deal with any criticism. But in the meantime...form of transmission?"

"Aerosols," Sefton answered in an efficient economy of words.

"Obviously," Xayella said to herself, unimpressed that she couldn't deduce the same. "But we also have to consider range. Those infected all had close contact with one another.... That would seem to suggest the pathogen can't survive long outside of a host body...but that's not a certainty."

"It is a certainty," Damhnait asserted irritatedly, having already pointed out the virus' short range. "I studied the pathogen during the subsequent autopsies yesterday. The virus' decay rate is surprisingly high, but I suspect the winds on JJ324c are sufficient to have created a stable virus plume for such widespread infection."

"And since we've programmed the ship's biofilters to eradicate the virus upon detection, the rest of the ship should be safe." She pressed her lips thin, irritated that they knew so much, yet were incapable of curing those infected. "This thing shouldn't be so hard to beat," she grumbled.

A call of "Doctor Sefton!" sent Sefton bolting from her chair, with only half a glance afforded to the vitals of the infected patients on her desktop terminal. She spotted Cristobel, clad in black surgical gloves, already pushing an antigrav cart towards the door to Operating-One with one hand, as he used his other to cover his nose and mouth with a face mask, allowing it to mold to his face. He passed off a mask and pair of gloves to Damhnait, and another to Tagliesh.

"Mel'Chir's heart rate shot up; she's short of breath, wheezing, and gagging on excess sputum," Cristobel reported, handing Damhnait the PADD displaying Tchalla's biobed readings.

"Ipratropium bromide and albuterol," Damhnait requested, and opened the door to the Operating Room. Once the hypospray was palmed off to her from Cris, she passed through the one-way forcefield, which was akin to the ones in the shuttle bays, running into the narrow scrub station and through the second forcefield into the operating room.

Xayella was trailing behind, fumbling with her gloves. "What's happening?" she called to Sefton with an urgency matching the situation.

"Her airways are being blocked by irregular muscle contractions," Sefton responded, as she ran a quick check for medicinal allergies in Tchalla's record.

As if on cue, Tchalla let out a gasp, her antennae spasming as she clawed at the biobed. Her body arched as she gasped, trying desperately to get air into her lungs.

Sefton pressed the hypospray to Mel'Chir's neck and depressed the control, injecting the Andorian with the bronchodilators. Keeping her eyes on Mel'Chir's reaction to the medication, she instructed Cristobel to prepare a dosage of dexamethasone in the event of swelling further blocking Tchi's airways, but hoped she wouldn't need to apply it.

Xayella was by her bedside, trying to catch her gaze and keep the girl focused. "Lieutenant Mel'Chir," she shouted above the wheezing gasps, pleading. "This is nothing! Are you listening to me? You're fine, so stop this!"

"She's responding to the medication," Damhnait gathered from the readings on the biobed's monitor, quite pleased, but still cautious. "No signs of swelling. She should begin breathing normally." Each wheeze coming from the Andorian grew less intense, and each breath became deeper.

With immediate danger dissipating, Damhnait softly instructed Cristobel, "Monitor her here. Make sure she gets some sleep."

Xayella finally took her eyes off Tchalla as the girl's tense body relaxed; her face was coloured with concern. "The pathogens..." was all she could manage to utter.

Indicating for Tagliesh to follow, Damhnait deactivated the forcefield between the operating room and the scrub station just long enough for herself and the Science Chief to get through. Watching Tchalla through the observation window, as she waited for the sterilisation field to ensure no traces of the virus came out of the quarantined O.R., Damhnait asked Xayella, "Not hard to beat, huh? This is just the start. Have you ever cured a virus before?"

Xayella chewed on her bottom lip, and shook her head with clear disappointment. "I've never had to before."

"Now is your chance," Damhnait encouraged her. "We stop this before anyone dies, and you pretty much redeem yourself of any villainous blame. Think you can at least aim for antihero?"

She smirked wanly. "As long as I don't sprout wings, Commander." Sighing, she took one last glimpse at Tchi, then departed with solemn determination. She vowed that those pathogens wouldn't survive for much longer, and with two tenacious, brash women working on a method for their destruction, they didn't stand much of a chance.

---

"Restlessness & Fear"
En. Andrea Collins - Security Officer

Location: Crew Quarters
Stardate: 57908.17, 10h20

***

Andrea sat bolt upright. She'd been sleeping. Her heart was racing and her breathing hard. She'd just been having a nightmare. She slowed her breathing down and climbed from her bed.

She was supposed to be seeing a counselor, but so far, everytime an appointment had been made, she'd blown it off or just straight out cancelled it. But not this time, that was way too much.

After she'd been raped, she'd had nightmares about the incident. Now since her involvement with the murder on Risa, the same had been happening...but not just the murder, but her rape as well. She didn't like having nightmares, however, how was she going to change that?

She stood from her bed and made her way to her computer, she was going to make another appointment to see a counselor, and this time, keep it. She knew that by now, news of her failure to see a counsellor may have found its way to the captain, as well as the first officer and her department head. Normally she wouldn't be concerned about that kind of thing, but she kind of liked being on board the Sulu, and being at least a part of something good.

Arriving at her console, she sat down to send an inquiry to Counsellor Scott to see if she could see her...then she made her way back to her bed.

---

"They Just Don't Build Them Like They Used To"
By: Chief Petty Officer Patrick Riley - Transporter Engineering
Crewman First Class Jeffrey Davies - Transporter Operations

Location: Transporter Room 1, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17 10h30

***

Smoke and sparks flew out of the open panel.

"Dammit!" Snatching his hands out of the maintenance access hatch, Patty turned and glared at Davies. "You bloody moron! I told you to wait until I gave the go-ahead. Isn't that plain enough for you, Crewman?"

"You did give me the go," Davies protested. "You said to hit it when you said 'okay'. You just said it."

"I did not!" Riley took a moment to glance back into the opened panel. It still smoldered a little, but at least nothing appeared to be damaged and the transport buffer array looked intact.

"You did," Davies said. "You were all bent over in there and said 'okay'."

He rolled his eyes. "I was talking to myself, Jeff. Not you."

Davies chuckled in disbelief. "Okay, so let's come up with a word that you're not going to say when you're talking to yourself."

The Chief wrinkled up an eyebrow while he thought out loud, "No, pint would be too easy to misconstrue for some of us." Patty shot a knowing look at Jeffrey "...alrighty then, how about Tabasco? Think that's easy enough?"

Davies gave the Chief a thumbs up. "Got it."

Patty gave the crewman a dubious frown before opting to try and fix this latest glitch in the Sulu's matter transporter system. They had numerous away teams down on JJ324c and it wouldn't be a good thing to leave them stranded in an emergency.

Reaching inside and performing a quick visual check of the isolinear cards as well as related systems, Riley pulled out two obviously cooked chips, tossing them onto the decking. Muttering to himself, "They just don't build like they used to...give me a good translator over these blasted iso-chips any day...." The engineer pulled two new ones out of a nearby tool pouch and installed them. Satisfied they were correctly installed, Patty moved onto other things.

He took some time to purge the buffer and run a few short system diagnostics before finally turning to Davies. "Let's try again." Pulling both hands out of the access hatch, Patty instructed, "Tabasco."

Davis ran his fingers up the console, and glanced at the drum sitting on the pad. It shimmered out, back in, and back out again.

The empty cylindrical container gradually faded from view and the system shutdown as designed once the dematerialization process finished. The chief tapped his commbadge. "Riley to Blacksby."

A static filled reply came back as, "Go ahead, Chief."

Wincing at the squelching noise, Patty asked, "Garret, did the drum get down there in one piece this time?"

"Yes, Chief, although it took a few seconds more than normal for it to materialize."

Well, it was progress of a sort. The last attempt produced a half drum, half crate concoction rather than a complete drum, and the engineer doubted if anyone wanted that kind of facelift when being transported anywhere.

The Chief moved his eyes back to Davies. "Let's bring it back up, Crewman. Tabasco."

"It may be better for the system to take a few seconds longer," Davies said, keying up the transporter again. "It'd give the computer more time to make sure the object is--"

"What? More mangled than before?" Motioning with his hand for the crewman to make his adjustments, Patty leaned away from the hatch and waited to see the results of their repair work.

After a minute or so, the bluish vortex began to form. The materialization cycle ran its preprogrammed routine for about one minute before depositing a large bulky object on the corresponding transport pad.

It was a large green plaid patterned pot with an obnoxiously orange-colored shrub planted inside.

Patty turned towards Jeffrey. "Do you think that's funny? I don't have all bloody day to be here playing around with you." He pointed to the potted plant. "Get rid of that...thing...and bring up the drum we sent down to the surface...now!"

"That's, uh," Davies made an unimpressed face as he studied his console. "That's it, Chief."

He looked at the recalcitrant transporter operator with a strong frown. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"That's the drum. The computer says that's the drum."

The Chief let his head droop as he put a hand up to his face, covering it, "Oh shi...." He was tired from the constant and seemingly endless string of minor incidents spreading all over the Sulu like wildfire and at the moment, couldn't figure out how to sidestep this latest setback.

"At least we can transport within the ship without error," Davies offered. "It's just the range."

Riley raised his head. "Range...interesting point." He allowed his index finger to become prominent as he pointed to the 'shrub'. "Maybe...what? Remote pattern buffer transitioning?"

Davies thought on that. "We could shuttle some down to important points and use them as beam-bases. The shuttles themselves have pattern enhancers built in, for that matter."

The engineer cracked a rare smile. "I believe you have something there, Jeff. Contact Flight and see if one of those fancy stick jockeys can take a shuttle down to the surface for a test run."

"You got it, Chief."

With a devilish smile, Riley regarded the shrub and asked rhetorically, "I wonder what that would look like in Lieutenant Thaine's office?"

---

"Miss Manners"
by Ensign Raina Derrell - Medical Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.17, 12h50

***

Since before Alpha shift the day before Raina had been busier than she imagined. Between the disturbing news of the pathogen and large numbers of crew trailing in for various reasons, she was more than ready for a break. With sterilization fields running at full power all over sickbay she needed pain killers to keep the headache at bay.

Added to that Tchi's words bothered her. She'd made a career out of medicine. So the comment about her bedside manner only caused Raina more stress. What would be of most use right now was a neutral party and something to eat.

"Care to join me for lunch?"

Applying a dermal regenerator's beam to his patient's forearm, Cristobel Sefton stood at the biobedside of the shirtless Crewman Kaven Lucas, who had come down to Sickbay after the replicator console in his quarters had inexplicably exploded. Cris' head violently jerked towards the source of the question, Raina, and hissed, "I didn't hear any bone crunch." Sefton's firm grip on Lucas' arm turned to jelly, and he snapped off the dermal regenerator. "Mo dhia, I'm so sorry," he offered the pain-free and befuddled Lucas.

That one caught her off guard but it wasn't unexpected with the schedule the medical staff had been keeping. "I'm sorry if I startled you, that wasn't my intention at all."

"S'okay," Cristobel told Raina once he looked back towards her, his posture still tense and his eyes still widely alert from the sudden adrenaline rush. "I'm just...y'know." With a knowing shrug, he took the dermal regenerator back to Kaven's forearm to finish healing the minor burns, and searched the biobed monitor of Kaven for any sign of bone fractures. There were none.

"If you have time I was serious about the lunch invitation. I could used a little friendly company and a break from sickbay," Raina commented gently.

"Lunch, right," Cristobel responded automatically, not entirely processing the words. And then, "Oh! Lunch. Not crunch. Yeah. That'd be..." -- Cris cocked his head as he fumbled for an adjective --"alphanumeric." Cristobel internally winced, then; he still hadn't dined in public since his public verbal flogging on Skirt Day. He supposed he could survive it...so long as it wasn't back at the site of his humiliation: the Crew Mess Hall. "Have you been to the new new Officer's Lounge?"

Raina had to smile at that. "The Officer's Lounge sounds like a great idea. And I didn't say crunch by any means. In fact I've been treating too much of that lately." Honestly she was having a very difficult time concentrating herself. When it came to patients Raina was more quiet than usual.

"Any pain?" Cristobel asked Lucas, as he gently tapped his fingertips along Lucas' newly repaired forearm. Off of Lucas' negative shake of his head, Cristobel smirkingly taunted, "Now did you learn a lesson today?"

"My uniform isn't flame-retarded?" Lucas guessed.

"Um. try again," Cristobel patronisingly encouraged.

"Don't hit the replicator if it malfunctions?"

"Righty-o," Cris affirmed, and left Kaven to Crewman Psamtic, who brought over a newly replicated uniform top. Reacting to the change in focus much quicker this time, once Cristobel was alongside Raina and walking with her towards the exit, he asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Currently doing the one thing any of my medical professors would say is the number one no-no, taking painkillers while on duty. With those sterilizer fields running the way they are I can't concentrate due to the headache if I don't," Raina commented causally though something else was really bothering her. At the moment she just didn't say what.

"You're certainly not the only one," Cristobel reassured Raina, hoping to assuage her of guilt.

They walked through the corridor once the pair exited sickbay. "Let's see I can't recall when I've had more than 4 to 6 hours sleep at a time in the last few days." She paused. "Oh by default I happen to be one of the few medical officers on staff able to work at all. With three down, this is getting old really quick."

Sceptically, Cristobel prodded, "Don't those who survive in the field of emergency medicine thrive under these sort of conditions?"

"On some days maybe, but we're allowed to have our off days at times as well." That's all she would say right now.

"You're right," Cristobel tentatively agreed.

She looked a Cris hoping to change the subject for a bit. "How about you?"

"I'm just tired. Nothing serious," Cristobel shrugged it off. "I've always found that an off-day at work is rarely caused by the work itself..."

Raina simply nodded, "Yeah that's usually how it works." Normally this kind of thing never got to her like this but something about Tchalla's comments really got under her skin this time.

"And so it's not the extra hours and responsibility that are bothering you..." Cristobel told her what she already knew, his tone leading her on for more information, as they stopped in front of the turbolift doors.

She shook her head. "No, I've learned to adapt to crazy hours, extra shifts, more responsibility. That's not the issue at all." As they stepped into the turbolift Raina paused. "Do you think I'm a bad medical officer?"

"No," Cristobel enthused, elongating the O-sound. He looked away from Raina for half a second to order the turbolift, "Officer's Lounge," and then immediately picked back up with Raina. "That is quadrants away from how I'd describe you professionally."

"Is my bedside manner absolutely horrid?" Raina's attention focused on Cris as she asked the question but didn't get to the reasons why she was having such doubts about her skills just yet.

"You don't have verbal-subtext sex with your patients, but that makes you a refreshing quirk in our Sickbay," Cristobel encouraged. Then he bit a corner of his lower lip. "Although... I suppose I did notice that you haven't exactly been...talking to your patients today. Which...is a valid choice, bedside manner-wise, but it possibly conceivably might come off as chilly."

Raina looked at Cris. "Maybe that's because I was told I should have been an engineer rather than a medical officer. I had to give Tchalla some bad news and that was the response she gave me. Certainly emotions were running high and there's no easy way to say what I had to say, but that response bothers me."

"Mo dhia," Cristobel muttered. Wincing, he continued, "...Yeah, that would make anyone silent. I wish I had seen it, I could offer some sort of constructive criticism, but I didn't, and I can't... What do you think of your bedside manner?"

"That's why I wanted an unbiased party to talk to, someone who wasn't there. Until those comments I never questioned my skills in that capacity. Medicine is what I've dedicated my career to." Raina looked truly flustered by the whole incident.

Nodding consolingly, Cristobel's tone searched for definition until eventually finding resolution, as he said, "Okay...how about...try it on me."

"Try what on you?" Raina asked. "What I said to my patient?"

" 'xactly."

"I've have some bad news. You've been infected with the pathogen," she looked at Cris. "That's all I said after double checking the data on my tricorder and not wanting to believe the results myself."

Cristobel half-frowned, looking to Derrell apologetically. "It probably could have been a touch gentler. A bit less clinical. But it certainly was not horrible. Without a doubt, Tchalla was lashing out because she was upset... Well...did you at least tell her with your eyes, before you told her with your mouth?"

Raina looked at him. "Yeah I'd say she saw it if she saw the look on my face as I rechecked those scans. You don't leave stuff out to make it easier on a patient. And I certainly don't believe in making other stuff up when it would be a lie."

"Not omission; gentle diction," Cristobel sing-songed. The turbolift stopped with a shaky jerk, and the doors opened to the corridor outside the Officer's Lounge.

"I thought I was being gentle. I certainly didn't have a harsh tone when I said it," she commented.

With a light shrug, Cristobel offered, "I'll keep an ear out, and let you know if your bedside chatter is approaching EMH-style or even if it's particularly impressive."

"Thank you, Cris. The last thing I need at a time like this is to be questioning my own skills. Besides I don't consider myself perfect either," Raina replied sincerely.

"Have you ever had complaints like this before?" Cris asked unevenly, as he paid more attention to his environment, realising that the turbolift had deposited them outside the Mess Hall, which was where they entered.

Raina shook her head. "I've never had any complaints of this nature before." Almost certain that was part of the reason it bothered her.

"Then you've probably got even less to worry about." Cristobel grinned at Raina, as they got into the short line behind the replicators, which helped Cris along into changing the subject to something more pleasant. "Care for Betazoid cuisine?"

"Yes, I'm a fan of Betazoid cuisine," she commented with a smile.

Once they made it to the replicator, Cristobel ordered, "Two servings of seasgair stew and two glasses of maith juice." The two trays of food materialised in the chamber, and Sefton handed one to Derrell.

"Thanks." Raina carried her tray to a table. "Good choice."

"So..." Cristobel gently began, as he took a seat across from Raina. "If you're worried about something as relatively mild as bedside manner, does that mean you're sleeping better now that nasty-mouthed Nurse Saffron is off the Sulu?"

Raina smiled, "Let's hope so at least on that front. If I'm worried about things it certainly shouldn't be due to that any longer. I know things may seem worse than they really are given the current situation and emotion did get in the way. But I still needed an honest opinion. Thank you."

After a silently slurped spoonful of broth, Cristobel blithely asked, "Have you been getting out of your quarters much? I hear the holodecks are fizzling out along with everything else on the ship. With the entertainment gone, I suppose we're all going to have to make our own fun."

"When I'm not working or sleeping?" Raina asked only half joking. "Seriously I've been trying but recently you know as well as I do."

"But please tell me that you weren't sitting at home in your quarters before we got to this planet," Cristobel said, always disappointed when people denied themselves fun. "Sickbay was under-worked then."

At that she shook her head. "No I wasn't just sitting in my quarters before we reached this planet." Raina didn't volunteer exactly what she'd been doing but it wasn't being non-social.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Cristobel enthusiastically surmised, "Okay, now I know something is going on. You're not saying anything. If there was nothing to say about your socialisation, you would have said something, but you're saying nothing, and so there must be something to talk about."

"Everyone makes that assumption." Raina knew he would push it if this continued. However previous events had told her not to say anything or volunteer too much. "What makes you think something is up? Just 'cause I'm not in my quarters doesn't mean I can't be in some lounge studying my medical courses."

"That's entirely plausible," Cristobel agreed, and downed a gulp of his juice. "But if it were true, you probably would have simply said so to begin with. And you wouldn't be wearing an evasion-vibe."

She sighed with a smile. "Ok so I can't fool a Betazoid, I know that. But let's just say I'm not too keen on talking about my personal life after the incident in sickbay."

"Oh, I understand," Cristobel passionately assured her. "I'm just saying that I know you have some sort of secret. And that, on a wholly completely unrelated note, anything we say while on lunch, would of course stay just between us."

Raina looked at him. "And you're going to keep asking until I actually tell you what it is." She held up a hand. "I don't know what to think, really, about everything."

"Well, now you're practically asking to talk it out and get some advice on the sitch," Cristobel taunted her with a wink. "But...no, I won't keep asking."

"I'm surprised you haven't picked up on it already," Raina commented knowing Cris's view on that type of thing. Which was why she made it in a light hearted manner. "Someone caught my attention late one evening and things just sort of went from there." She paused. "And no it's not as straightforward as you think."

"I'm not one to judge or assume," Cristobel promised her, a mouthful of meat and vegetables crammed to one side of his mouth. "What do you mean by not straightforward?" Then he swallowed.

She considered it for a moment. "We first met while I was a Cadet but nothing happened. At that point we were instructor and student. Then I find out he's assigned here to the Sulu, a Counselor."

Cristobel was silent for a moment, thinking of any of his own professors who would be counterworthy now that there would be no messy teacher-student ethics, but then the last slow day in Sickbay during the first away mission spontaneously came to mind. "Counsellor!" Sefton exclaimed at a whisper. "That's why you were lying about not knowing Doctor Potts!"

"Do I know him know him, not before the Sulu and I'm still figuring that one out. Did he probably have a thing for me...yeah," Raina replied quietly then shrugged. "So you see my predicament."

"Well...when was the last time you got to" -- Cristobel gave a slight suggestive cock of his head -- "know him? Did it end on good terms?"

She just looked at Cristobel. "Are you talking deep conversation or more than that?"

"That is actually irrelevant," Cristobel told her sympathetically, with a sheepish tacked-on, "for the moment. I mean, you said your feelings for him are a jumble, and so I'm curious to know what you felt for him the very last time you met with him? Completely ignoring any thoughts or feelings that have come to you since then."

"I don't know that's the problem," Raina commented honestly. "Last time we saw each other was before we made our transit through the wormhole. Since then duty or study has kept me busy."

"Do you think you want to see him again? Even if just to isolate what you do feel for him?" Cris asked.

Over the last few days Raina had heard something that just made her skin crawl. "At this rate no. It really wouldn't be wise."

Hearing the sudden coldness, Cristobel surmised, "Then you do know what you feel for him?"

"I know what I want in a relationship if it was to ever reach that point. But from what I've heard I know that we don't see eye to eye on certain things. So I'm not about to make such a commitment only to have my heart broken or worse," she replied quietly.

"Are you going to tell him?" Cristobel asked, although his tone told her she should.

"When I get two seconds in my day, yes, but I just found out so it's not like I'm avoiding telling him either." Raina didn't like what she'd heard and wasn't about to fuel anymore fires by allowing herself to get caught up in some love triangle.

"We don't have to go right back to Sickbay once we finish eating..." Cristobel teased Raina with another wink.

Raina wasn't sure how to respond to Cristobel's comment. "Hmm?" She also realized her earlier statement sounded more curt than she intended. Yes the news bothered her but it had been a rough day in sickbay as well.

"Potts is probably on his lunch break, and you have two seconds right now," Cristobel explained to make his point, but not to pressure her.

"I know you are only trying to help but I'd bite his head off with words in my current mood and with the way my day has been going..." She just looked at him. "Of course he probably deserves that type of scolding."

"You're right," Cristobel admitted disappointedly after her first statement. He grinned wickedly after her second statement. "You're right!"

This time Raina could only sigh. "You, my friend, aren't helping anything here. Agreeing with my mood and my plan..." Now she just shook her head.

"The way I see it" -- Cristobel held up fingers to count the facts off -- "one, you need to trust the way you feel; two, you need to be honest with him about the way you feel; three, sooner is probably better than later. Potts could, at this moment, be planning an elaborate production of a date to invite you on."

Raina nodded. "You're right and you're right. As for elaborate, truly depends on your definition of elaborate. So yes I need to talk to him, chew him out and let him know that I've been hurt once it's not worth it again."

"Is that the only reason you don't want to see him anymore? Because he might hurt you?" Sefton asked, suddenly tentative.

"No, it's not. If that was my only reason I'd never have started this in the first place. It's that he's looking for the casual it seems and I'm not, at least long term that's not in my game plan anymore. Cris I've been through too much to be happy with that kind of thing."

"Make sure he knows," Cristobel reaffirmed, with a quiet determination.

"There's no reason to talk to him if he doesn't," she commented quietly.

"You're probably right... It sounds like neither of you made any commitments to one another," Cristobel agreed. "But we're on a small ship, uprooted from the Federation. You are going to talk to him eventually in the next six months."

She had to agree. "Yes we are and no one made any commitments yet. And I can't let it get that far now."

"Well, then that should free up some of your time," Cristobel said encouragingly. "How do you think you'll spend it. ...After the virus and excessive injuries have been dealt with, obviously."

"Umm sleep sounds good right now," Raina laughed. Though she was partly serious about that.

"Maybe you'll be fortunate enough to discover a patient with a contagious form of narcolepsy?" Cristobel brightly said.

Raina had to laugh at that image. "I think that would be a new one in my books. Thanks again. I don't know what I'd have done without your advice."

"It is a true pleasure to have people hear what I think," Cristobel assured her, discouraging the need for thanks. "I suppose...without me encouraging your getting bloodthirsty on Potts, causing you to question that idea, you probably would have gone through with it!"

Adamantly Raina shook her head no. "Absolutely not."

"Probably not," Cristobel quipped. He continued eating his stew, imagining a cartoon Raina marching into a cartoon Potts' office to shriek what she really thought of him.

She concentrated on her lunch for a bit. It would certainly be an interesting conversation when Raina talked to Potts. Though this was one that was necessary.

Although they didn't speak of Potts again for the rest of their meal, they also never spoke of Sickbay again, successfully getting their heads out of the crew's pain and suffering for a refreshing handful of moments.

---

"The Skunk's Tale"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Ensign Tristan Finn

Location: Mess Hall, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 13h15

***

Tristan Finn took his tray and wandered away from the serving counter, offering a kind word to the Opsman behind the counter. He wandered a circuit around the lounge and finally found someone to sit next to, someone he hadn't had a chance to spend much time with. With a smile curling his lips and a bounce in his step, he approached the table.

"Commander Lyrr, do you mind if I join you for these lunchtime festivities?"

She looked up slowly from her Janaran stew, and smiled congenially at Finn. Knowing full well it would be an offense to deny him, with a vague gesture she offered the vacant seat across from hers. "I haven't seen you around much, Ensign. Been busy?"

"Current crisis has been keeping everyone busy," Finn said as he took a seat. "I finally decided it wasn't safe to try the food from my replicator any longer, so here I am." He indicated her stew. "That looks tasty. Bajoran?"

Lyrr shrugged. "Isn't it always?"

Finn chuckled. "When was the last time you had non-Bajoran food?" he asked. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat anything but... Though, I don't blame you. Some of the best dishes I've ever had have come from Bajor." He smiled. "So, how have you been?"

"As well as can be expected," she answered diplomatically. "Things have been hectic since Risa...and I don't think I expected that." She smiled tightly. "But...I'm keeping up with the fast pace. And you? Is your new Security Chief working you hard?"

"He's a pussycat," Finn said with a grin. "He doesn't work the department the way G'kii did. Now that was a taskmaster." He grinned in remembrance. "I still remember the time when he ran that drill halfway through gamma shift, and you and I were trying to figure out the intricacies of...oh what was that game.... It was that Alpha Centauri one. Chazro, I think."

Lyrr chuckled at the memory. "I've never forgiven him for that. I think I was almost onto something, and that blaring klaxon completely derailed my train of thought."

"I remember the look you gave him," Finn said. "And, I remember the one you gave me when I had the nerve to think the whole thing was amusing. I still wake up in a cold sweat over that, by the way. Still, it's a fond memory of the past. It was a good ship."

"A less complicated ship," she amended, gesturing with her full spoon. "But...you're right, it was. I almost wish, sometimes, I'd chosen to stay longer."

"I wasn't sure if I'd ever run into anyone from the Davies again," Finn said. After a moment, he rolled his eyes. "And, of all the people I run into, it's you. Seriously though, even though we don't see each other much here, it is good to see you again. It's nice to have a friendly face in the middle of all the chaos."

"Why is that?" she asked with a teasing grin. "Everyone else bullies you around? That should feel pretty natural for you, so I don't see the problem, really."

"Well, no," Finn said. "Not exactly. I think I've only been getting any trouble from that hooligan Mouazer. He doesn't look it, but he's trouble. Just watch the way he looks at you sometime, it's...eerie. Okay, that's not true. He seems like an alright guy, for guys who are afraid of their own shadows." He laughed and shook his head. "For the most part, the crew here has been great. It's a good ship and a good crew, and one I'm happy to be a part of."

Lyrr gave a nod. "I'm glad. You've never been a troublemaker, so you should have an easy time of things...as long as you don't try to tell the chief any of those horrible jokes you're so fond of," she advised with an amiable smile. "If you can believe it, he does have a sense of humour...but duty first!"

"I'll make sure to save my jokes for when he's off duty," Finn said with a chuckle. "He does take himself very seriously, doesn't he? Not that that's bad, just...I don't know. I think there's a point where it becomes unhealthy if you can't take a step back from yourself."

"Oh, he can," Lyrr assured him, knowing from experience. "It's just...duty is important and he prefers to run a tight ship down there. There's time for joking off-duty...not that he's ever told me a joke..." She frowned pensively and emptied the contents of her spoon into her mouth.

"Funny," Finn said, thought for a moment, then nodded. "Not that I've really spoken to or with him since I came aboard, but he doesn't really seem to be one to spend much time with the people in the department. He works, finishes his work, then just seems to leave. I can partly understand not wanting to fraternize with the junior officers, but it is a small ship. I have seen him in the lounge with Ensign Lektar from Ops, happy and grinning while they ate. And, I guess he also plays his guitar in there." Finn shrugged. "Maybe he just doesn't like the security officers on the ship, maybe familiarity would cause problems with his subordinates. Still, it makes a fairly tense work environment to have to work for someone who always seems to be walking on the edge of a knife."

"He comes off that way to you?" Lyrr asked, a touch skeptically. "He's very dedicated to his job, Ensign. If there isn't time to socialize, it's because he leaves immediately for his quarters to review and write reports to keep his department running efficiently. You can't exactly fault him for that, now can you?"

"Can't fault him at all for dedication to Starfleet and his duty," Finn said. "Though, the sort of intensity that he seems to embody, it can make things tricky. I guess it's just his way though, and we'll have to get used to it in Security."

"Well, as long as his 'intensity' isn't hindering anyone's ability to function, and as long as no one's made an official complaint...." Lyrr quirked an eyebrow at Finn and asked, "Should I consider this a complaint, Ensign?"

"No," Finn answered. "As you said, he does his job. Neither associating with his security officers while off-duty nor being a cheerful, friendly person are requirements for his position. However, it appears I've said something I shouldn't have. Perhaps I should find my own table."

Lyrr softened with a smile and chuckled at Finn. "You've spoken your mind, Ensign. If you have concerns, it's my job as Executive Officer of this ship to listen. I'm not judging you or condemning you; I just want to make sure everything's fine."

"Everything is fine," Finn answered. "It's...Commander T'Kal takes his job very seriously. That's a good thing. It's an important thing. Overseeing the security on this ship is a very important. However, Commander T'Kal also seems to take himself very seriously. No one should take themselves that seriously. That he takes himself and his job so seriously makes me nervous, because humour and my wits are my weapons. I believe my fear is that I'll find myself on the Security Department blacklist for being who I am within a department that is so intense and passionate about being a security department that we forget to be who we really are."

"Believe me, Ensign," Lyrr confided, "T'Kal takes his job seriously, but he judges his officers based on their skills and performance, not on how badly they tell a joke." She grinned at Finn. "You've nothing to worry about, trust me."

"So you believe he would happily work beside me, unjudging, even though I think that it looks like a Terran skunk decided to use the top of his head as a permanent roost?"

"Ensign," Lyrr admonished lightly. "If you're going around saying such things in his presence, then no, I imagine your time in his department won't be pleasant. All I can advise is that you do your job. If you do that, then things should go smoothly."

"I don't go around saying it," Finn said. "Actually, you're the only person on the entire ship I've actually put it into words for. However, I can't help smirking, from time to time." He reached out into the center of the table where they sat, and quickly tapped out a sequence onto the surface. A moment later, an inset window opened revealing a small fuzzy animal with black fur and a tell-tale white stripe running the length of its body. "Skunk. When I was younger, I always wanted one as a pet, but my parents were not all that keen on the idea."

Lyrr pressed her fisted hand to her mouth, concealing the smile there she was unable to suppress. She could see how the resemblance between the creature's pelt and T'Kal's hair might develop for Finn, but refused to comment. "Finn...you really shouldn't show that to anyone else," she advised, her voice thick with stifled laughter.

Finn reached out and cleared the image from the table. "No one else will see that image, except on the extremely rare occasion when I mourn the pet I never had. I would have called him Mr. Biggsley, too. Not that his name has any special significance, but for some reason I thought it would have been an appropriate name for a pet skunk."

Lyrr sighed, and leaned her chin into her still balled up hand. "If I had any idea what you were talking about, Finn, I imagine I'd agree with you."

He flashed her a grin. "Don't worry, the picture won't be shown to anyone. If anyone wants to make the connection I made in regards to the commander and the striped beastie, they will have to do it on their own. They won't hear it from me."

Lyrr chuckled. "Thank you, Ensign. I think I get the idea now." She glanced momentarily at the wall chrono, then at Finn with a shrug. "Just in time, too. I have to get going."

"It was good to talk to you again, even though it was only for a brief time," Finn said. "Unless you'd rather have nothing to do with me, it'd be nice to catch up on more of the old times again."

"And why would I want that, Ensign?" Lyrr asked with genuine curiousity.

"I couldn't say for you, Commander," Finn said. "But for me, the memories are good, and it's nice to have someone I can talk to about them. But, if you don't want further association with those memories or with me, I'll understand."

Lyrr nodded slowly, uncertainly. "Yes, Ensign...." she answered with mild confusion. "Thank you." She rose from her seat, taking up her tray as she did. "Enjoy the rest of your lunch, and try not to worry so much."

"Commander," Finn said, turning before she could get too far away, "it was good to talk to you, even though it wasn't the most cheerful conversation." He gave her a lopsided grin. "Though, that does mean you didn't have to listen to my jokes."

"And for that, I am eternally grateful." She chuckled to herself and resumed her departure.

Finn watched her go, not quite sure what to think of their conversation. She was always distant, though she did chuckle a few times, and there was the laugh that would have turned every head in the lounge had she not stifled it. She had a nice laugh; why was it that those who had the nicest laughs always hid them? His lips curled into a wry smile and he picked up his own tray. As he strolled toward the recycler, he started whistling the tune that'd been bouncing around in his head for awhile. "For he always wears surface blacks," he sang to himself as he departed from the lounge and headed back to his duty shift.

---

"Office of Human Resource Management"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Lt. Mark Thaine - Chief Engineer

Location: USS Sulu, Main Engineering
Stardate: 57908.17, 14h10

***

"I don't get it, sir," said the engineering crewman, peering at the door to the supply room. "I've tried everything. Checked the electronics, the power supply, the door sensors, I've changed it all twice, but the door still isn't opening."

Thaine frowned, and drew one leg back, before giving the door frame a very, very hard kick. The crewman started in surprise, but then looked amazed as the door opened with a hiss. Thaine took a step backward, out of the door sensors, and it closed.

"That fix it?" asked the Chief Engineer.

"I guess so..." The crewman looked genuinely impressed. "You've just got to show her who's boss, or something?"

"Something like that," agreed Thaine passively. Any further explanation, however, was lost to all time, as the communications grid chirped loudly.

"Sefton to Thaine. Please meet me in your office."

Thaine sighed, and seeing very little alternative to following the orders of the Lieutenant Commander, tapped his comm-badge. "Acknowledged. Thaine out." Then, he glanced to the crewman. "Now, get those spare phase inverters down to engineering." Another half-dozen had failed in the last hour.

"Aye, sir," responded the engineer, as the Chief strode off to his office, to await the Doctor's arrival.

***

Thaine sipped his coffee, burning his tongue in the process, and frowned at the door. The doctor wasn't exactly prompt in arriving, and this was time being wasted. The ship seemed to be falling apart around his ears, and he wasn't appreciative of doctors playing silly games with him.

Once Doctor Sefton did march into Thaine's office, she murmured a "Comming from the turbolift did get you here early. Perfect." She openly regarded the Chief briefly, before sympathetically asking, "When was the last time you slept or ate anything resembling nutritious value?"

"I don't know...the Academy maybe? They used to force fruit down us, from time to time." He shrugged, and then narrowed his eyes. "Alright...are you here to give me a health check up, or do you want something?"

"You're a grown man who knows his requirements and limits, and so, yes, I'm here because I need something: an engineering team," Sefton stated matter-of-factly.

"Seems that's what everyone wants from me these days. What do you want them for and why should I overwork my staff any more than they are already?" The Chief took another drink of his coffee.

"Because it's for Sickbay," Sefton said as if it were obviously reason enough. "I've already disabled all of the medical tricorders' network connections to the rest of the ship's systems; I need engineers to properly diagnose them and repair any damage already done by the current troubles, since I cannot even trust newly replicated tricorders," Sefton explained. "Additionally, I need each of the biobeds disconnected from the ship, and running on independent processing and power sources."

"What?!" The chief set his coffee down on the table with a loud thump, sending dark liquid over the edges. "Have you any idea how many crew hours that is?"

With a light sigh, Damhnait admitted, "I have this awful awful feeling that I just don't care. I probably should have brought a hypospray to subdue apathy, I suppose."

"Commander, have you seen the figures for Engineering and Ops these last two days? Neither department exactly have people to spare." He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, you can either have working biobeds, or a working ship. Zareb has already run off with three of my top engineers. And I don't know if you've noticed, but it takes more than five engineers on duty for each shift to keep this ship running.

"If you want an engineering team, go speak with Commander Zareb, and put a hold on the Nightingale project. I'll back you up on that, there's no good reason to continue it while we've got major technical problems." The Chief hoped the doctor wouldn't make it an order for him to provide her with staff he genuinely couldn't spare.

"This is unacceptable. This is not just important to me; it is important to your own staff. When they get hurt, they will not be returning to duty if the tricorders and biobeds in Sickbay are unreliable," Sefton enthused, but clearly sensed his candour. "I will be speaking with Zareb, and you will have your engineers back for the remainder of the crisis. Once they are done in Sickbay. Three engineers should be enough to get it done in a timely manner, I'd imagine, if I scrounge an officer from Operations, and task all of my off-shift medical technicians to assist. Is that acceptable?"

"Yeah, that's acceptable," responded Thaine, after a moment's thought. "They're yours, if you can get Zareb to hand them over to you. That part is out of my hands. Was that everything?"

"Yes," Damhnait said considerably softer than before, now that she knew she was one step closer to keeping Sickbay from falling apart. Sheepishly, she muttered, "I wish this had not been how I first introduced myself to you outside of staff meetings. We're going to have to count on one another for at least the next six months..." After a hard blink, Sefton's professional façade returned. Heading for the exit, she said, "The crisis always comes first. I hope I don't see you in Sickbay." She stopped at the door, and spun back to the chief engineer. "But, since I'm already here now, how about you try one of the Sefton Meal Supplements in the replicator database." Eyeing his drink of choice, she offered, "Supplement number three tastes exactly like coffee. I promise."

Thaine shrugged, non-committally. "Maybe I'll try it," he said. "For what it's worth, good luck with Zareb."

"Thank you," Damhnait smiled. "For what it's worth, good luck with Zareb to you too." Doctor Sefton nodded at Thaine, and marched out of his office to return to Sickbay. This time, she'd make the engineer come to her.

---

"When Showers Attack"
By: Ensign Firece
Ensign Blake Corrigan
Ensign Niko
Ensign Monica Gainsborough
Crewman Gunthar
Crewman Salan
Nurse Carrie Crowe

Location: Various locations, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 16h00

***

Back still smarting from the scalding rain of fire that came from his shower nozzle that morning, Ensign Firece rushed through the open doors of security looking disoriented and haggard. At his work station, Ensign Corrigan glanced up with a ready smile that faded at the sight of his coworker. Firece rolled his eyes expressively, sighed, and headed straight for the weapons locker. "Don't ask. Bad morning."

Corrigan laughed and set aside his padd. "You too?" He shook his head. "I ask my replicator for toast? Guess what I get?"

Firece winced as his uniform pulled taut across his back when he reached forward for a phaser. He let out a sharp breath through his teeth and slowly straightened up. Exhibiting slight discomfort in his smile, Firece asked, "So, what'd you get?"

"I get a cup of tea," Corrigan said. "So I ask for tea --- to see what I would get -- and I didn't get my toast. I got three orders of Eggs Benedict. I didn't even want to know what I'd get if I asked for Eggs Benedict. So...what happened to you, Firece?"

"Shower," he explained, slipping the head of his phaser into its holster. "I ask the shower to heat my water to 80 degrees, I hop inside, scream like a girl as the water hits my back like acid-tipped daggers and stumble out again." Firece's face took on a pained expression as he relived the agony in his mind. "I think I'll drop by sickbay before I go on patrol, and maybe ops to ask if anyone knows what the hell is going on around here."

Corrigan frowned and nodded his head. "Yeah, good idea. Let me know if they find out anything, and...if anyone needs Eggs Benedict..."

He chuckled weakly. "I'll let you know." With a wave that only caused another spike of pain, Firece headed off. He nodded at two pretty ensigns passing him in the corridor. Both paused their animated discussion momentarily to wave, then resumed.

"Two hours!" Ensign Niko exclaimed once Firece sped off for sickbay. "You were trapped in your refresher for two hours?"

Monica Gainsborough nodded, her cheeks reddening. "It was awful. I went in, showered, and when I got out, the door wouldn't open. I tried to contact Security or Ops, but the comm wasn't working either. It was terrible, and I think the heat was off too." She grinned. "I kept hoping Captain Salinger would come rescue me, but finally the door just opened."

Niko giggled and gripped Monica's forearm to slow her down. She wanted more details before they reached science. "Why not comm him late at night and explain that the computer accidentally routed your call to him? You could, you know, talk and stuff."

Monica grinned. "I could trap myself in after my next shower, and call him. I would love to see his eyes when he gets the refresher door open and finds me wearing my towel. Oh, but would he come get me himself, or would he send someone? I guess it doesn't matter as long as I get to talk to him."

"Rush into his arms!" Niko suggested. "Then dramatically explain how traumatic an experience it was and that you're glad he's there to quell your fears." She sighed dreamily at the thought and lay her head upon Monica's shoulder. "How romantic...."

"The only trick is Lieutenant Tagliesh," Monica said with a sigh. "Oh, if only she'd share. She doesn't seem like the sharing type though. It'd have to be a secret affair...though it wouldn't stay a secret for long on this ship."

Niko rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it - though, during lunch. If we're late, Tagliesh will never let you sleep with her boyfriend." Snickering, Niko hurried for the turbolift. She nearly collided with two crewmen in gold stepping out as the doors opened, then excused herself and stepped aside.

With the two science officers giggling behind them as they strode out into the corridor, Gunthar and Salan both shook their heads. "They better hope they don't get stuck in there," Gunthar chuckled, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the turbolift doors sealing the two science officers in the car. "I heard Freddy had a close call this morning. The lights flickered and the lift jerked to a halt. Started up again after a minute or two." He let out a low whistle and sighed. "Scary stuff."

"I can imagine," Salan answered, then glanced back at the two women. "Kinda makes you want to go ride the lift with them, doesn't it? Strange stuff, buddy. This morning, I woke up and was freezing, out here, I'm fine. I don't get it. It's like the ship is falling apart or something. Maybe it's the Curse of the Boogey that killed everyone down there."

Gunthar snorted as they rounded the corner. "I think it's just a case of this ship being a garbage scow," he quipped. "Why do you think the Chief's always raving like a madman down in engineering?"

"I thought it's because he was a madman," Salan answered. "Heard him yelling at someone this morning for replacing his usual drink with warp plasma. When this thing finally does fall apart, I hope I'm down on the planet."

Gunthar agreed with an emphatic nod and set down his toolkit as they reached their destination. He knelt by the access junction and removed the panel with a single tug. Gunthar grinned at Salan and nodded towards the Jefferies tube. "Pray that it doesn't cave in on us, eh?"

"Or someone crawling in the tube above us doesn't fall," Salan said. "Loser goes in first," he said as he held out his hand. Gunthar did the same, and on a count of three, Salan groaned. "Scissors. One of these days, I'll remember that you always go for scissors." He shook his head and started into the hatch where they'd look into the replicator systems on this deck.

While Gunthar followed Salan in with a taunting laugh, Ensign Firece was one deck above them just reaching the entrance to sickbay, where he stopped in disbelief. Every biobed was occupied with officers bearing injuries of all varieties, from minor cuts, to bruises, and one in the same boat as himself with patches of red, burned flesh across his chest. His attention was drawn to a passing nurse carrying a tray of instruments and appearing harried in the least. He stammered a greeting and chased her down. "What's going on in here?"

Nurse Carrie Crowe turned to the young man following after her. She gave him a smile, and chided herself for the relief she felt at being able to stop running around for a moment. "Looks like there've been a lot of accidents today," she said. "Turbolifts, showers, holodeck injuries, and the like. Looks like no one's having a good day." She noted his posture and realized he wasn't just a curious bystander, but a patient. "You're hurt?"

He nodded vigorously. "Seems my shower had a problem with me this morning, too." Firece turned his back to her, and reached behind to raise both his jacket and the shirt beneath, exposing the damage done by scalding water. "Think you can fix it?"

Carrie gave him a grin and nodded. "Yes, I think we can. It'll just take a few minutes, but I need to get these over to the doctor. If you want to go have a seat over there, I'll be back with you in a minute."

Firece sighed and let down his shirt again. He moved off in the opposite direction to Carrie, finding himself a vacant seat against one wall next to the other occupied ones likely brought in to deal with the overflow of patients. Firece was careful not to lean against the chair back, and instead sat upright, waiting patiently for his turn, and impatiently for some brilliant mind to resolve the mishaps afflicting the Sulu before he burned something entirely more important to a young man than his back the next time he stepped into a shower.

---

"Just To Talk"
By: Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer
Lt. Brennyn Scott - Chief Counselor

Location: Scott's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17, 16h23

***

"Well, the reason I'm here is mostly to talk." Natalia shrugged as she sat back and clasped her hands in her lap. The counselor just smiled and nodded, letting her continue. The science officer had thought that it was in her own best interest to see another counselor - not Ainsley Chambers. Brennyn Scott had been far more preferrable to Doctor Potts. So she looked over the desk at Brennyn Scott and smiled tentatively. "I was seeing Counselor Chambers but things didn't work out. We had a conflict of interest, so I'd like to change counselors."

Brennyn simply nodded. "Is that what you're here to talk about?" She had known Ainsley was upset about matters with Natalia, but had trusted her to handle things.

"Not really," Natalia shook her head. "We sorted it out...mostly. She gave me some advice about a guy I had been seeing - Mason Farrell. Now she's dating him and I got upset about it. I lost my cool with her and I apologised later."

"I see," she replied, "so do you feel things have been worked out between the two of you? Or is this partially the reason you're seeing me?" Scott got the impression Druschev was trying to say things without really saying them. It wasn't an especially good technique for therapy or for mentioning a particular grievance with a department head.

Natalia was quick to shake her head. "Nyet!" she said with emphasis. "Counselor Chambers and I have settled the matter - I was wrong. That's not why I'm here - but in a way it is. It's the reason I want to change counselors that's all. I don't want to get in the way. If she and Mason are happy together then that is as it should be. I don't need to be reminded of their relationship every time I see her. That's fair, yes?"

"That's very sensible, yes," she admitted. "And how are you dealing with these changes in your life otherwise?"

Natalia sighed. "It is difficult. I really felt something could happen with Mason, but it wasn't to be. I feel bad for my son. When Mason found out that I had a son he completely rejected any idea of us having a relationship. He rejected Domenic before he even met him. That is sad, but I feel angry about that more than the fact that he rejected me!"

Brennyn sensed Natalia was shifting the focus of the conversation away from herself and onto Domenic to keep from confronting more painful memories. Scott believed Natalia was angry, and more than that, she believed Druschev felt she had every right to be angry, but she also sensed there was more to it than that. "And why do you think that is? Why are you angrier for Domenic than you are for yourself?"

Natalia looked down at her hands and shrugged. "He's the convenient excuse," she said. "Most guys don't like having a nine year old hanging around. They use him as an excuse. I'm a great one night stand counselor because usually that's about as far as it gets."

"He's the convenient excuse for them or for you?" The question was not asked out of malice, but Bree had to wonder if Natalia was using her son in a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts.

"For them...and sometimes for me," she had to admit her own complicity in Domenic's life. "He resents any other men in my life. He goes out of the way to spoil relationships. Sometimes I wish that I had left him in a boarding college on Earth so that I could have a life." There, she'd said it aloud. Now she felt guilty. Her face showed the guilt in a flash of pain that brought tears. "I don't want to feel that way - but I'm lonely." Natalia looked up at the counselor. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had any kind of loving relationship with a man? Ten years. Not counting Domenic's father!"

"Are you talking about sex, Natalia, or are you talking about a relationship? I get the feeling you're equating love with sex and expecting a man you become sexually involved with relatively quickly to want something long term. Your behavior isn't sending that message, and I'm wondering what message you are sending and why."

"I'm talking about a relationship Counsellor," her voice was tinged with anger at the counselor's conclusions. "Sex is easy to come by - I haven't had a relationship in a long time that has lasted any longer than a couple of months. I know the difference between love and sex! My problem comes when men meet my son - who does his best to make things as difficult as possible. It's not a crime to become intimate, counselor, don't we all want something long term?"

Bree nodded. "Yes, we do. But you're not in this alone anymore. Domenic is frightened too and should be as much a part of any intimate relationship, that is emotionally intimate, that you take on. Maybe you should take sex off the table for awhile. Give yourself some time to heal."

"Domenic isn't frightened, he's jealous. He doesn't like any male authority figures competing with my attentions. I realise that I'm not in it alone - I think nine years with Domenic has made me realise that. What do you think I need to heal? I had sex with Mason - on two occasions - that's as far as our relationship went. I feel angry about him not giving us a chance to have a relationship, but I don't hate him for it. He found someone else he was interested in a relationship with. Okay, he lied to me twice when I asked him if there was someone else - and he says that he just didn't want to use her as an excuse - which is bullshit! He's a player - and I got played. I'm angry at myself for being suckered in by a slick liar. Ainsley Chambers will learn about him by herself. That's it - all I want to do is forget about it."

"Do you think you can? I know you're angry, Natalia, and you have every right to be. At some point, however, you're going to have to help Domenic understand and deal with his feelings. Perhaps that will involve dealing with some feelings of your own that you may not like. I want to understand why it is that you're unhappy. Do you think Domenic's to blame for all of it?"

"Look, Counselor, I know why I'm unhappy - I'm lonely! It's not Domenic's fault, it's not even my fault. Yes, I'm angry but only because I'm angry at me for being taken in. I had a wonderful night with Mason - he was really very good at what he did. I mistook that for him wanting something more than a single night. I guess we both weren't expecting to ever see each other again - I know I wasn't. When we met in the turbo lift I expected him to say that it was a one night thing...but he didn't. He didn't at all...which led to all of...this." She threw her hands up and shrugged. "He's a bastard.. plain and simple. I can forget that easily enough. Domenic has nothing to do with any of it. Though he did do his best to screw up my last relationship. He succeeded too. I've tried talking to him, but he just clams up completely. "

"Maybe I can help you with that? With your permission, I'd like to see how Domenic is holding up. Maybe I can help him work through his jealousy." She hoped this latest suggestion would enable her to make some progress with this family. Natalia was too busy feeling victimized to see past her anger. Perhaps given time she could help her work past that, bur for now, she needed an open mind.

Natalia nodded. "He needs someone to talk to him. He's taken quite a shine to Ainsley Chambers actually. I have allowed him to go diving in a holodeck with her - I thought that she might help him. If you think that's okay, then fine. If not, I have no objection to you talking to him. If it does any good, then that will be good for me."

"And him," Bree replied. "No need to fix what isn't broken. I'll speak to Ainsley and see how things are progressing. If she and I think I could help, I'll get in touch with you. Shall we set up another appointment?"

Natalia nodded. "Yes, that would be fine." She smiled, trying to ease the discomfort of what they had been talking about, but Natalia knew that getting it out in the open with someone who could be objective would be better than bottling it up and eventually affecting her duty. That was why counselors were positioned on Starships anyway!

Bree nodded and returned the smile. "Great. I realize the things we've been discussing haven't been the easiest to confront, but I want to make sure you're comfortable working with me, so if you need, feel free to think things over and come back anytime."

---

"Amends: Cris"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Auditorium
Stardate: 57908.17, 17h30

***

"Early. Must be early..." Cristobel Sefton muttered to himself as he clomped down the audience aisle of stairs towards the stage. With Sickbay utterly frantic because of virally infected officers and injuries related to the ship's hiccups, Cristobel hadn't been able to say 'no', when Taylor Bennett had asked him to try practising with the Suluists again. Music was relaxing, and healing, and while he had never actually written any songs about mending healthy relationships, Cris supposed it was possible for music to pave the way towards a friendship with Amy Reese. Or at least civility.

Cris wore his trysette case over his shoulder, on top of a Class A duty uniform. He'd tried on every field, training and skirted uniform variant in the replicator's database, but none of them had the comfort and simple style of the standard A's. Although, Cris had opted to wear his non-regulation, Betazed-imported, onyx ankle boots with the perfectly flat toe and the extra leather straps for form rather than function. He looked up from them, as he leaned against the stage, when the auditorium's main doors opened.

Through the square opening entered a sole figure, which stopped just past the threshold and looked his way. She wore a Class A uniform top, and a skirt that, more than anything, looked as if it were designed to be a belt. Even from the expansive distance separating them, the hatred in Amy Reese's beady eyes pierced Cris like shipboard pulse phasers. Without a word spoken, she spun away and marched for the doors once more. They refused to part for her, even after she walked into them. Twice. "Hey... Computer!" she called shrilly. "Let me go! I didn't even want to come! ...For once." Despite her invalid request, the computer responded to deny. Amy scowled and violently folded her arms under her breasts. She turned towards Cris slowly, stubbornly squeezed her eyes shut, jutted her chin outwards, and turned her whorily-rouged cheek to him.

Disturbed by her initial look of hatred, Cristobel looked to his trysette case strap, which he pulled over his head and discarded once it was off his body. "I'm not early. The others aren't going to be joining us?" Cristobel asked, although it sounded more like a flat statement than a question.

She shrugged. "I s'pose not." Sighing deeply, Amy winded a confused, lost-her-way path down the aisle. She glanced down at her breasts, and then fluffed them up higher with her arms. "I guess they want us to kiss and make up or something.... Incu - Incont - incompuh - In - Stupid of them, huh?"

"More like naïve," Cristobel said heavily, and scooted back to sit on the lip of the stage with a sigh of his own. "Or maybe the doors are kacking like every other piece of technology on this ship."

Amy smiled wryly. "Seems like everything's trying to ruin my day. I mean, first the ship's coming apart, then Tchi gets sick. They're all against me." She came to a slow halt by the stage and leaned her hip against it. "And I had to be the one to tell Tchi. Well... I had to be the one to tell a medical officer to tell her. All because Doctor Mother of the Bitch made me work overtime." She narrowed her eyes at Cris bitterly and shrilly said, "It should've been you, you know. If you weren't too good to work an extra shift, you could have been the one to break her heart."

"Too good?" Cristobel asked her incredulously, and had to laugh at that. "Good? Good has nothing to do with it. You should really stop trying to talk about topics that reveal your incompetence. I don't get assigned double shifts because I am barely qualified to be a nurse. I need the extra time to take my correspondence courses, or Starfleet may just decide that it was a mistake to let me serve on a starship without intensive medical training. Besides, Tchalla isn't dead. She's sick. And that's just temporary."

"It wasn't temporary for those skeletons who got infected down on the planet," Amy shrilly snapped. "She might die, and then everyone will expect me to hide my glee about..." She smiled fondly, then, and splayed her fingers to shove the diamond ring in Cristobel's face. "Me and Kit...we're getting married, and Case is going to be the best man, and we're trying a new tradition where the bridal party attends the stag and the groom's party attends the stagette." Amy licked her lips. "So I should be happy! But... then I might feel bad about it."

"You're getting married? ...Weren't you and Kit still recovering from Risa a week ago?" Cristobel blurted in his confusion.

"No," she shrilly answered snootily. "There's nothing to recover from. He loves me and he does what I tell him to and we're making it official." Amy shot Cris a pointed look as she shrilled, "At least I know he won't stab me in the back."

"Y'know," Cristobel scoffed weightily; "there gets to be a point where that line loses all meaning except for an excuse to be a bitch. Any talk of suicide is serious, even if you didn't mean it, and especially if you repeat it. How is telling your counsellor a betrayal, when all he'll do with the knowledge is help you?"

"I don't need help," she shouted. "You're so damn self-righteous, Cristobel Sefton! Your bitchiness now can only mean that you never were my friend. Ugh. Did you even think of all of my precious time that you wasted by whining about Corran's brain tumour or whatever. Couldn't you have wasted Shyla's time?!"

"If you don't need help, then why were you suicidal? Why were you violent?" Cris spat.

"I'm not suicidal nooooow!" she shrieked. "And I only got violent because you made me get violent by betraying me to my counsellor! You jerk! Plus, you made me kiss him! You pimp!"

"Mo dhia, Amy," Cristobel cursed. "I cannot go down these spiral crash circles again. Have you at least proven me wrong, yet? That's all I wanted you to do: prove me wrong, so I won't think this way anymore. Have you gone to Potts and spoken openly about your present and past feelings? Have you told him about the time you were so blissfully happy that your Crissy came back to the Sulu, and how you still managed to break down into uncontrollable sobs just because your party wasn't perfect? I mean, Dwayne Sanchez wouldn't have even cried over a party. Have you told Potts that you spoke of suicide with your boyfriend and your best friend, and then remorselessly got violently angry when one of them actually took you seriously?"

"If I'm lacking in" - finger air-quotes - "so-called 'remorse' because I'm" - finger air-quotes - "so-called 'insane'," Amy shrilly riposted, "then what the hell is your excuse, Cristobel Sefton? You were gossiping about me with Annika of all people! I should slap you both! Again. And make you call me Mistress Reese! Until you both stab me in the back together."

"Don't play the victim, Amy; it's about as convincing as T'Kal's tough-guy exterior after he started his new career as a soft-rock crooner," Cristobel acidly remarked, without raising his voice. "Who else am I going to talk to? Your performance in the Mess made it sparklingly clear that I'm the Betrayer of Sickbay. Yes, you caught us gossiping, but you missed all of the times Ani and I have talked about a medical officer's place in first contact or the LCARS set up on the current tricorder design. And you don't have to worry: our occasional gossip stays between us. Annikafiore told me all about your little crush on Chief Case, but she's had no desire to spread the word, because no one would care. It's not news. ...It's kind of boring. You're probably going to have to find a new 'arch-nemesis'."

"Me and Case?" Amy scoffed disdainfully. "Case is nothing. At least, that's what I tell Kitty. And Kitty and I are getting married, remember? I don't know why everyone on this ship is trying to break us up, but it's not going to work. No one hurts my Kitty but me!"

Cristobel snorted a chuckle of absolute incredulity at Amy's extreme defensiveness, and bit his lip to keep from literally laughing in Amy's face. "Why would anyone want to break up you and Kit? Why would anyone want you to be anything other than happy?"

She frowned at Cris pointedly. "You should be answering this question, not me. Seeing you everyday in sickbay, talking to Annika while I'm hiding from you, digs the knife in my back deeper, and yet you wonder why I can't achieve orgasm with Kit?"

"It's not like you've been inviting," Cristobel snapped. "What with your emotional duranium-bulkheading and your fiery glares that try to warm my heart by tearing open my chest and cracking my ribcage."

"Well... you've been treating Annika like a dignified person!" she shrieked. "Sometimes, I think you never wanted to be my friend. You're such a...faker, Cristobel Sefton! If that's your real name! It probably isn't! Your name must be Betty McBetrayer!"

"How can you say that? Aren't friends supposed to be honest? No matter what?" Cristobel bitterly sneered. "I mean... do all of your other friends just placate you? Tell you that everything is fine, and perfect, and that all those problems don't matter if the symptoms are forgotten, and that everything will be shiny with a new diamond ring?"

"They support me!" she shrilly hollered, clenching her fists shoved against her hips and glaring at Cris. "They tell me that I'm good and pretty and sexy and hot. What did you ever do for me? Nothing! You just wanted someone to spread gossip with! You're so shallow, Cris!"

Gaping was all Cris could do for what felt like an hour. When Amy had approached the auditorium, Kit's proposal had been repeating in her head. Cris had heard a snippet of it, before shutting it out. Once his gape had shifted to a frown, he asked, "I'm shallow? What did you say when Kit proposed to you?"

"I...I don't remember!" she shrilly lied. "I was shocked and...and I must have asked him if I had stepped into a temporal anomaly throwing me a year into the future. And then maybe I asked if he had been drinking." She pursed her lips stubbornly and shrilly asked, "Why? Did you think I asked him for the specs on the size of the diamond and the karats of the gold in the ring? Before saying yes, I mean!"

"Hmm," Cristobel thought hard, being showy in his struggle to accurately remember his memory of her memory. "Did you say 'I do'? ...No. Did you say 'yes, I'll marry you?' ...No. Did you say 'I want to spend my life with you?' ...No. You said: 'Oh God, Kitty, I'll take it.' I'll. Take. It." Cris punctuated the last word with a point to her ring, and sarcastically sassed, "That's deep."

"Your face is deep!" Amy shrilled. "All those frown lines and crow's feet and just plain ugly wrinkles. No wonder you're not engaged to Corran. He must look at you and cringe. You can't possibly be giving him enough reasons to keep you around long enough to marry you." Amy shrilly said with a hand gesture indicating oral sex. "Wait... wait... wait! Are you saying that I want to marry the ring itself? People can't marry rings, Cris. That's illegal! ...Or is it?"

"I'm saying that you should try to stop being so gorram hypocritical if you're going to do the righteous anger thing," Cristobel emphasised. "And I'm saying that your memory is painfully selective if you don't remember all of the gossip-free times that I supported you."

She snorted at Cris, as if he were a line of coke. "Like what? Like telling me maybe I should have sex with every male, female and transgendered person on the ship? That's just selfish, Cris. I have to leave some available partners for the shy and the homely. And Kit definitely didn't find your advice helpful either!"

"And yet you pretended that I was helpful, all the while remaining blissfully ignorant of any value systems beyond narrow Human standards," Cristobel remarked coldly.

"Did a childhood accident destroy the points on your ears, because you sound just like a prickish sleazy xenophobic Vulcan. Who else would make such anti-Human statements?" She smiled shrewdly. "I've done nothing wrong here. All along you've hated me for my species. I always knew you were an evil Vulcan spy in disguise!"

"What the hell? That's not what I meant, and you would know it if you weren't in crazy-attack-bitch mode," Cristobel snapped. "Dhia, this is pointless."

"Tell me about it." She shrilly rolled her eyes and stubbornly leaned back against the stage. "How do we get out of here so I don't have to put up with your green-blooded condescension for another minute?"

"And so I can get some sleep," Cristobel grunted, once he hopped off the stage. He slung his trysette case over his shoulder, and retrieved an isolinear chip from his PADD in the indenture on his case. Hopping up the steps towards the exit, Cristobel saccharinely explained, "I'm starting my shift early - during Gamma - maybe you'll get lucky, and I'll have to tell patients that they've contracted a potentially lethal virus." He pressed the isolinear chip flat against the wall beneath the door's control panel, and managed to wedge the edge of the chip behind the edge of the panel. With a jerk of his wrist, he popped the door's control panel clean off the wall. "That would make your day, I'm sure." With the manual door-release bared, Cris pulled the lever. The exit still didn't open, but he was able to get his fingers between the doors, and push them apart.

With a kick to the small square panel on the floor, Amy shrilled, "You must have been all kinds of delinquent as a juvenile." Shoving Cris aside as if he were a hung-over trick on the morning after, Amy slipped through the partially opened doors first and whirled on Cris in the corridor. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Cristobel Sefton, but do you know what you are? A not nice person! Ha!" With a shrill nod, she began a petulant march down the corridor.

With a shrug, and a shove to open the doors the rest of the way, Cristobel said, mostly to himself, "I never claimed to be a nice person." He wasn't entirely sure of each step that had brought him here to be watching his once-dear friend Amy walk away, again. He had started with hope to make amends, and maybe they had, in a sense. Maybe it was better this way.

---

"Amends: Amy"
by Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Auditorium
Stardate: 57908.17, 17h30

***

Amy was still wondering why Kit had insisted she go on ahead to the auditorium, where he'd catch up with her later. He had mentioned Ensign Bennett and Kelli were already there, and suspected this was his way of getting them introduced before she jumped to conclusions about Taylor's intentions for Kit. She sighed, hoping the girl's friendship with her fiance was completely platonic, or the young Vulcan would be receiving a harsh warning before Amy was forced to resort to hair-pulling. Smoothing out the skirt of her uniform, she came to the doors and stepped through while they parted.

She stopped just past the threshold as Cris' shaggy hair and unnaturally large feet caught her focus. Even from the expansive distance separating them, the hatred in Amy Reese's narrowed eyes pierced Cris like laser scalpels. He was leaning against the stage, examining his groin with an appraising smile, before her presence caught his attention and he jumped upright with a wholly flustered expression. Without a word spoken, she spun away and marched for the doors once more. They refused to part for her. "Hey... Computer!" she called shrilly. "Let me out of here!" Despite her invalid request, the computer responded to deny. Amy scowled and punched both fists through the openings made by her folded elbows. With arms crossed over her chest, she turned slowly, again facing Cris, and muttered, "Thanks for the engagement present, Kitty." Chin jutting outwards, she turned her cheek to him and stubbornly closed her eyes.

Oblivious to her look of hatred, Cristobel looked to his trysette case strap, which he pulled over his head and discarded once it was off his body. "I'm not early. The others aren't going to be joining us?" Cristobel asked dully to match his dimwitted, slackjawed survey of the room.

She shrugged. "I suppose not." Sighing deeply, Amy winded a lazy, random path down the aisle. "I guess they want us to make up or something.... Stupid, huh?"

He seemed fascinated by the gleaming surface of the stage, or rather the reflection in it, which he smiled at suavely. Tossing his head to flick away overgrown bangs that no longer existed, he regarded Amy disinterestedly and answered, "Very stupid." It was said with a significant look that seemed to aim the insult directly at her. He scooted back to sit on the lip of the stage with a sigh of his own. "Or maybe the doors are kacking like every other piece of technology on this ship."

Amy smiled wryly. "Seems like everything's going to hell. I mean, first the ship's coming apart, then Tchi gets sick." She came to a slow halt by the stage and leaned her hip against it. "And I had to be the one to tell her. If Dr. Sefton hadn't made me work overtime..." She narrowed her eyes at Cris bitterly and said, "It should've been you, you know. If you weren't too good to work an extra shift, you could have been the one to break her heart."

"Too good?" Cristobel asked her incredulously, and had to emit a bleating laugh at that. "Great is more like it. I don't get assigned double shifts because my talents are put to far better use if I'm not overworked. What chaos would sickbay degenerate into if I had to take an entire day off because I worked too hard the day before or plummeted into depression because I broke a nail? You work extra shifts because you need the practice. Besides, Tchalla isn't dead..." He smirked. "...Yet. She's sick. And that's just temporary, until you screw up, as usual."

"It wasn't temporary for those people down on the planet," Amy snapped. "She might die, and I can't even be happy because of it." She smiled fondly, then, and splayed her fingers to gaze down at the ring adorning her finger. "Me and Kit...we're getting married, and I should be happy, but I can't be with so many things going wrong."

"You're getting married? Who in all of Argelia's four hells would want to marry you? ...Weren't you and Kit still recovering from Risa a week ago?" Cristobel blurted in his confusion.

"No," she answered snootily. "There's nothing to recover from. He loves me and I love him and we're making it official." Amy shot Cris a pointed look as she said, "At least I know he won't stab me in the back."

"Yeah, well he is an idiot," Cristobel scoffed weightily. "You've lost all touch with reality and are obviously on the brink of a major breakdown judging by your hideous clothing faux pas lately. I mean, glitter and sequins in one outfit?" He snorted. "If I were Kit, I'd watch out for you stabbing him in the back while he sleeps." He rolled his eyes condescendingly. "Reese, you really need some help...and I mean help of a psychiatric kind. And the hair... I won't even go into that stylistic disaster."

"I don't need help," she shouted. "You're so damn self-righteous, Cristobel Sefton! If you weren't my friend to begin with, you should've told me before I wasted my time!"

"If I'd known you were a maniacal, suicidal bitch, I would never have even made eye contact with your insane self," Cris spat; he injected attitude into each word with a weaving-motion of his neck and a punctuating snap that gave Amy vertigo to watch.

"I'm not suicidal!" she shrieked after recovering. "And I only got violent when you betrayed me...jerk!"

"Mo dhia, Amy," Cristobel cursed. "I cannot go down these spiral crash circles again. Have you at least proven me wrong, yet, which would be like trying to convince the universe that you're still a virgin?" Cris dabbed his tongue with the tip of one forefinger, which he touched to his own chest as he produced a sizzling sound effect and a simulated painful wince. He shook off his hand as if burned, then snorted derisively at Amy. "All I wanted you to do, Amy-girlfriend," he continued, "was to talk to Potts, and not with your tongue down his thu-roat. I mean, talk about manic-depressive. On red-hair days you're as euphoric as a thirteen-year old boy with his hand down his pants, and on those awful blue-haired days, you're mascara's all hideously runny from crying 'cause no one praised you on your brilliant party planning skills." Cris rolled his eyes and gave her a foppishly dismissive wave. "Have you told Potts that you spoke of suicide with your boyfriend and your gorgeously-figured best friend, and then remorselessly got violently angry when one of them actually took you seriously?"

"If I'm lacking in remorse because I'm insane," Amy riposted, "then what the hell is your excuse, Cristobel Sefton? You were gossiping about me with Annika of all people! How could you!"

"Oh, please, Amy-can'tclosemylegs-Reese. Don't play the victim with me. That act's about as convincing as Farrell's southern drawl," Cristobel acidly remarked, flinging his arm upwards until his snapping fingers hovered before Amy's nose. "I may be the sissy Betrayer of Sickbay but at least I'm good looking, and at least Annika has firmer breasts than you." He smirked at her and gave an affirming nod at her shock. "Yep...that's right. Yes, you caught us gossiping, but you missed all of the times Ani let me fondle her, and you don't very well talk during something like that, Amy." Cris rolled his eyes and looked away. "Besides, it's not like I've told anyone about that tidbit of info she dropped me regarding you and the studly Chief Case with his rippling muscles and rugged smile...oh and that ass...." He sighed and was lost in dreamy reminiscence for a moment. Grimacing and reluctantly addressing Amy again, he added, "Though he's probably off-limits, since you've claimed him as your own tongue-wrestling partner."

"Me and Case?" Amy scoffed disdainfully. "Case is nothing. Kitty and I are getting married, remember? I don't know why you people are trying to break us up, but it's not going to work."

Cristobel snorted a chuckle, and bit his lip to keep from literally laughing in Amy's face. "Why would anyone want to break up you and Kit? I mean, I know he's probably a multi-talented, double-jointed sex god who could keep you screaming for hours until you're convinced your mind's going to explode, but why would anyone want you to be anything other than happy?"

She frowned at Cris pointedly. "I don't know, Cris. Why would they? Seeing you everyday in sickbay, running immediately to Annika and away from me digs the knife in deeper, and you wonder why I can't be happy?"

"It's not like you've been inviting," Cristobel snapped, and motioned his eyes towards Amy's chest as he mimed cupping two heavy breasts against his own. "I mean it's not like I have two of my own to play with, Amy! And with the dagger stares you spend so much time shooting me from those compellingly sultry eyes of yours, how can I be inviting, especially when you aren't?"

"Well you haven't been trying very hard either!" she shouted. "Sometimes, I think you never wanted to be my friend. You're such a...faker, Cristobel Sefton!"

"How can you say that? Aren't friends supposed to be honest? No matter what? Like that time I told you your butt looked monstrously big in uniform pants?" Cristobel reminded her with pointed smirk. "I mean...do all of your other friends just lie about how good you look in clothes that obviously aren't designed for full-figured women carrying a hefty load of jiggling flesh strapped to their ass?"

"They support me!" she hollered, clenching her fists at her sides and glaring at Cris. "Unlike you! You were only interested in someone to spread gossip with! You're so shallow, Cris!"

Holding up his hand, palm facing Amy, in a superiorly dismissive gesture, Cris rifled through the thoughts he'd plucked from Amy's head while she'd approached the auditorium earlier. He picked the juiciest memory, and lowered his hand to regard her with a snooty grin. "Before you went down on him, what did you say to Kit when he proposed to you?"

"I...I don't remember!" she blurted. "I was shocked and...and I must have asked him if he was serious." She pursed her lips stubbornly and asked, "Why? Did you think I asked him for the ring first?"

"Hmm," Cristobel thought hard, being showy in his struggle to accurately remember his memory of her memory. "Did you say 'I do' - and I'm not talking about after he asked you 'Do you want to use whipped cream this time?' No. Did you say 'yes, I'll marry you, no matter how short our children are going to be?' No. Did you say 'I want to spend my life pleasuring you as any good wife should?' No. You said: 'Oh God, Kitty, I'll take it.' I'll. Take. It." Cris punctuated the last word with a point to her ring, and sarcastically sassed, "That's as deep as your throat."

"So, what are you saying?" Amy smirked. "Are you saying I'm after him for the shiny ring? And what was I saying about shallowness? Hm?"

"I'm saying that you should try to stop being so gorram hypocritical if you're going to do the shrieky, bulgy-eyed righteous anger thing," Cristobel emphasised. "And I'm saying that your memory is painfully selective if you don't remember all of the gossip-free times that I supported you and told you your hair looked shiny when it obviously wasn't."

She snorted. "Like what? Like telling me maybe I should cheat on Kit if it makes me happy? A lot of help you were!"

Cris pursed his lips and slapped his hands onto his schoolboy-thin hips. "And yet you pretended that I was helpful, all the while remaining blissfully ignorant of any value systems beyond stupid-headed Human standards," Cristobel declared imperiously.

"So...it's not just me you have a problem with, then? It's all humans?" She smiled shrewdly. "You're a xenophobic, elitist jerk, Cristobel Sefton! I always knew it to be true!"

"Seriously?" he asked incredulously. "I thought it was so obvious that I'm far superior to any of you," Cristobel vaunted, languidly brushing invisible bangs from his puny eyes. "Dhia, your brain doesn't have the capacity to comprehend my grandeur. This is pointless."

"Tell me about it." She rolled her eyes and stubbornly leaned back against the stage. "How do we get out of here so I don't have to put up with your condescension for another minute?"

"And so I can get some sleep with my freaky eye-colour changey man-muffin," Cristobel said, giggling girlishly as he hopped off the stage. He slung his trysette case over his shoulder, and retrieved an isolinear chip from his PADD in the indenture on his case. Frolicking up the steps towards the exit, Cristobel saccharinely explained, "I'm starting my shift early - during Gamma - to impress my mommy. Maybe you'll get as lucky as I will tonight, and I'll have to tell patients that they've contracted a potentially lethal virus, but at least their hair looks good." He pressed the isolinear chip flat against the wall beneath the door's control panel, and managed to wedge the edge of the chip behind the edge of the panel. With pathetically, high-pitched grunts and a jerk of his limp wrist, he popped the door's control panel clean off the wall. "That would make your day, I'm sure, and theirs to receive a compliment like that from someone whose bone structure is as stunning as mine is."

With the manual door-release bared, Cris pulled the lever. The exit still didn't open, but he was able to get his bony fingers between the doors, and strained to push them apart. He squealed as if his hair had caught fire and swiftly pulled his hands away to examine any damage done to his manicured nails. Amy sighed, rolled her eyes, and with little effort had the doors pried open.

After slipping through the partially opened doors, she whirled on Cris in the corridor. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Cristobel Sefton, but you're not a nice person!" With a satisfied nod, she began a petulant march down the corridor.

---

"And the Kitchen Sink"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Fred Firece; Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Operations Office
Stardate: 57908.17 17h35

***

The comm beeped again.

"Operations, Ensign Farrell."

"This is Lieutenant McCormick," the feminine English accent piped through. "My replicator's producing nothing but milk. Nonstop."

"That sounds bad," Farrell said, rolling his eyes. The comm beeped again. "Hold on, I'll have someone down there as soon as I can."

He keyed the next channel. "Operations, Ensign Farr--"

The music coming through was enough to make the speaker go fuzzy. Someone was shouting about volume controls. Farrell cut the connection. The comm beeped again.

"Operatio--" He was cut short by screaming. He forwarded the call to Medical, and brought up an auto-response box.

"Operations. List your location and the nature of your problem and we'll address your concerns in the order in which they are received. Record your message now."

He keyed the comm off and sat back. The complaints and concerns were getting thick. Davies was going to run his legs off, and the entire Ops and Engineering staffs had been called onto duty. Crewman Rett was at the backup console in the office, dispatching repair teams and trying to stay awake. The poor guy was probably on his 23rd hour, but he hadn't complained. Yet. Farrell decided he'd need to get the guy some relief. He'd take a minute and then spell him off the dispatch duty, maybe let him grab a nap.

But not just yet. A bewildered Ensign Firece stood in the doorway, searching the office, then spotted Farrell. He sighed heavily and approached the main desk occupied by Mason, meaning to pick a bone with him. Firece halted, standing tall over Farrell with feet firmly planted and arms crossed to lend him a menacing demeanour that not at all matched his meek personality. "My shower," he enunciated slowly, "tried to kill me. Care to tell me why?"

"You and half the ship," Farrell said, nonplussed. "The showers were one of the first things to go systemically bad. But that's not all. There's a replicator on deck 3 that's spitting out razor blades at velocity, and a unit in sickbay is bleeding. I'll put you on the list."

"On the list?" Firece repeated. "Just how long is your list, Ensign? I almost got boiled this morning! How am I supposed to shower?"

"You see Crewman Rett here? He and I are currently responsible for receiving, assessing, and dispatching repair teams to about 45 incidents. Our saving grace has been that Sam's watching the life support, which is priority number one. We're dealing with all the rest of it, Ensign," Farrell emphasized the title, "and missing a shower isn't going to kill you. We'll get to you as soon as soon as we can. First, we've got to fish Flummux out of his fresher, which won't open and is slowly flooding. If he doesn't give himself a stroke, which creates a whole other task, we'll have the shower team head for your quarters in," he glanced at the wallchrono, "a couple of hours."

Firece sighed and grudgingly nodded. "I'm still on shift for a while longer, so..." His face scrunched up in his perplexity as he asked, "What's going on here anyway? I've never seen anything like this."

"We had a problem like this on Ranger, but that was because it was an old ship with old-ship problems. The Sulu's cutting edge. There's no reason for this kind of shipwide glitching," Farrell finished with a thoughtful frown. "I'm just glad nobody's really hurt. Yet."

"You think it's gonna get worse?" Firece appeared stricken. "Like...what? Are decks gonna start decompressing? That sort of thing?"

"I doubt that," Farrell said. "Sam's dedicated to the life support, and he's fast enough to catch hiccups there before they do damage. But it means the rest of us have to try and work the problem. Right now, we're just dealing with the glitches. We haven't even started tackling the errors that caused them yet. We've got to get a few things under control first."

Firece snorted. "Good luck. The way things are going, you'll never get control." Shrugging skeptically, Firece backed away from Farrell's desk. "Here's hoping that you do!" he called out to him, then grunted and let out a muted curse as he rubbed the back of his head. He glared at the doors behind him that had failed to open; he then cocked an eyebrow at Farrell. "Two hours, you said?"

"Maybe three."

---

"Conference Calls"
By: Lieutenant Commander Damhnait Sefton; Ship's Doctor
Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb; Engineering Consultant
Lieutenant Mark Thaine; Chief Engineer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case; Weapons Specialist
Petty Officer Third Class Fiona Sullivan; Armory Crewman [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Operations Office
Stardate: 57908.17 17h50

***

"Rett, go get some sleep," Farrell said to the Bajoran, who was fighting valiantly to stay alert. "I'll take this for a while."

"It's no trouble, sir," Rett said.

"That's good of you to say," Farrell's twang was evident, "but you're draggin' ass something fierce, and need some sleep. Go on back to your quarters for the rest of Beta. Sack out while you can."

"Thank you, sir."

Farrell chuckled. "Don't thank me yet. We'll see what Gamma looks like."

Rett smiled genuinely and left the office, rubbing the back of his neck. Farrell seated himself and keyed up the repair schedule, linking a variety of functions to the console for monitoring. All this technology, he thought, and it still took a person to bring it all together. Sometimes it took something organic, he supposed.

And then he had a terrible thought, and punched up the comm.

"Operations to Doctor Sefton and Lieutenant Thaine," he commanded, splitting his channel.

"Sefton here."

"This is Thaine, what do you want?"

"Sorry to pull you both away, sirs. I just wanted to ask a quick question. If there's a biological pathogen loose on the ship, what's the chance of it infecting the biogel packs that run the ship's neural circuitry?"

"Doubt it," came Thaine's short reply. "One of them, sure . . . if someone deliberately infected it. But there are safeguards in place to make sure it can't spread."

"Even without the safeguards, the biological components of the packs are modeled after Human genomics," Damhnait reminded them of what they knew, to set up what they likely didn't yet know: "And at this point, we do not believe the pathogen can infect Humans."

"That's what I needed to know. Thank you, sirs, for taking a minute, and I apologize again for the interruption. Farrell out."

So the circuitry itself was probably safe. Which meant, at its core, it probably wasn't a hardware problem. Which brought up another fear entirely. He picked up another line.

"Operations to Commander Zareb."

"Go ahead," was the curt reply. Zareb sounded like a man who had been disturbed in the middle of something important.

"Ensign Farrell here, sir. Sorry for the interruption. I'm sure you're aware of the cascade failures we're experiencing on board. May I suggest you disconnect the umbilicals linking your vessel to the Sulu? We don't want your vessel infected, sir."

"I've kept the Nightingale segregated from the Sulu system since I brought her on board," Zareb confirmed, his voice warming only slightly. The umbilicals are monopathic by design so I can review information from this ship in my quarters. There is no information coming from the Sulu."

"Strictly one-way," Farrell said, more to himself than to Zareb. "Thank you, sir. I apologize again for the interruption. Farrell out."

Another channel, and another call. "Operations to Armory."

"Armory. This is Sullivan."

Not Case. Of course; the Chief would have been on Alpha. But it couldn't hurt to ask anyway. "Ensign Farrell here. Is everything stable down there?"

"As stable as the rest of the ship, sir," Sullivan's voice offered with a wee bit of an Irish lilt. "We disconnected our replicator after it wouldn't stop whistling, but our principal systems have been quiet."

Farrell sat back, thinking on that. "Just the same, do me a favor, willya?"

"Name it, sir."

"Pass along the idea of physically separating the torpedoes from their tubes. Computer failsafes or not, we don't want to start randomly opening fire on nothing in particular."

There was a slight pause before Chief Case's voice responded instead of Sullivan's. "That's already a work in progress, Ensign. I've got Mullens and Rinaro coordinating with the other crew to add a few layers of security to the weapons systems. Removing the ordinance was first on my list."

"Chief," Farrell said, brightening. "Good to hear you're on it."

"Aye, sir," Case said simply. There was something in the way he trailed off the 'sir'.

"Everything alright, Chief?" Farrell asked, giving his own words the appropriate go-ahead tone.

"I have a concern, sir," Case's voice said with a slight buzz of static. Since the ship had been going haywire, it happened periodically on the communications. "But I don't really want to discuss it on a malfunctioning comm system. Can you come down here after your shift is over, sir?"

"Absolutely. Midnight alright for you?"

"I'll be here. Case out."

Farrell considered what Case wanted, but decided he'd know soon enough, and didn't need to waste time thinking about it now.

The circuitry was safe. So the problem was programming. But the tactical systems were unaffected, at least so far. He felt his mind whirl into high gear at the prospect, and thought deeply for about half an hour before hitting the comm again.

"Operations to Lieutenant Tagliesh."

---

"Wild and Crazy"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Tagliesh's office
Stardate: 57908.17 18h10

***

Farrell was deep in thought when Tagliesh huffed into the office.

"Evenin'," he said, rising. "Please," he added, indicating a chair and reseating himself.

Xayella spared not a glance for it, and continued fixing her narrowed gaze on him instead. "Just talk, Ensign. I'm on a short break, then I have to get back to the labs."

"Well, sir, I've got an oddball idea I wanted to run by you. Let me lay out where I'm at. You know we're experiencing widespread systemic glitches and failures. Your own office terminal may have been an early hiccup in what's become a wave."

"Great." She smirked. "Now this is going to get blamed on me too?" Xayella sighed and took Farrell up on his offer to sit after all.

"Is somebody blaming you for something?" Farrell asked.

"Coy doesn't suit you, Ensign," Xayella chided mildly. "I'm the one who let a foreign pathogen aboard the ship, or haven't you bothered to listen?"

"Dah," Farrell said, a dismissive sound he made while making an equally dismissive wave. "Nobody could have known a long-dormant virus would snap us in the ass. It's not anybody's fault. Besides, I think it's covering for something anyway."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Covering for something how?"

Farrell raised a finger, as though to remind himself. "Right. That's what I'm getting at. We've got repair teams all over the ship chasing down the glitches, and we've discovered something very interesting. Nothing essential's being disturbed."

Xay chuckled dryly. "Non-essential in whose eyes? The replicator gave Matt a glass of acid this morning instead of juice. I think that sort of thing ups the replicator's status to very important."

"Yes and no. I just got off the comm with Security, and their stuff hasn't been directly tampered with. Sure, the replicator in the brig is producing one unending length of leather braid, but things like the shields and the phasers haven't even had a cough. Sam's watching the life support, but he's created no error logs, which means nothing's going bad there. And while Engineering's watching the warp core like hawks, they haven't logged any problems with it, either. So we're not going to explode, implode, suffocate, or detonate out here in orbit. That said, the big question becomes, why some systems and not others?"

She shrugged easily at that. "Some systems are better protected than others. Maybe whatever this thing is that's causing the malfunctions can't access them."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Farrell said. "This brings us back to the pathogen. Medical says the virus won't do anything to humans, which means it isn't going to affect the bioneural circuitry of the Sulu. So the problem isn't the machine itself. It's programming. Couple that with the fact that the better protected systems haven't been messed with, and I say we're being hacked."

Xay snorted at that. "By what? A pathogen? Or some idiot aboard this ship?"

"Like I say, I think the pathogen's a cover of some kind. As to who's doing it, I've got mundane ideas and crazy-wild ideas. Which would you prefer to hear first?"

Smiling slyly, Xayella crossed her legs at the knee and draped an elbow lazily over the back of her chair as she settled in for the tale. "Mundane never cuts it on a starship, Ensign. Give it to me . . .wild." The word came off sultry, as did her grin.

"Suppose," Mason started, leaning forward on his elbows, matching his tone to hers, "that there's still something alive on this world, and it's trying to figure out what we are?"

"Then they're going to be pretty disappointed," she quipped. "But say your theory holds merit. How did this something get aboard the ship? I seriously doubt the pathogens are that something, Ensign."

"Oh, I agree," Farrell cracked back. "The pathogen can't be the cause, since our circuitry's immune. But what else was brought aboard? Just the bodies with the virus?"

"And the away team," Xay said. "Maybe there was something airborne, aside from that pathogen, that's having an effect on some of the officers who were down there. They might be unconsciously hacking into the affected systems and causing the malfunctions." She shrugged. "Too farfetched?"

"Possession?" Farrell asked, an eyebrow arching, then grunted. "It wouldn't be the first time it's happened on an exploration ship, I guess. But we can establish that as we go. For now, how do you feel about investigating the angle that we are being probed by an alien intelligence? The 'how' may be better answered once we figure out the 'why.' "

"Okay," she answered slowly. "So what do you suggest?"

"We need to get a handle on who the people on this planet were," Farrell mused. "How their society dealt with its own extinction. Has Security cleared the place yet, or is Commander T'Kal still running the show down there?"

"He thinks he is," she replied with a challenging smile, "but if I have my way, he won't be. You want to go down there, don't you?"

"Yes I do," Farrell smiled, matching hers with a mischievous one of his own. "We can take a shuttle down and spend the day. Have your teams found anything resembling a hideout? Some sort of bunker, or place where people would hide to wait out a plague?"

"We found many things, including a computer core, we believe." Xayella grinned, pleased at the prospect of redeeming her professional reputation. "When do we leave?"

Farrell grinned back. "Let me see what I can put together. Give me until the start of Gamma. Meanwhile, prep up for a day-trip. Let me know what you'll need. I'll see to a shuttle and maybe a couple of other personnel."

"I'll talk to the captain." Xay rose, shooting Farrell a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry: he'll give us clearance."

Farrell acknowledged her wink with a bow of his head, and watched her sashay out of the office. A course of action finally acquired, he bent over his console again, checking the status of the repair crews, and bringing up a requisition box.

---

"Confessions of Omission"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Matt's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 18h45

***

Dinner sat untouched in her plate, save for the stabs she'd made to the grilled chicken breast with her fork. Despite her lack of enthusiasm in the dish, she hadn't taken her eyes from it over the course of the meal, but doing so kept her from provoking some conversation from Matt. She wasn't much in the talking mood; she preferred, only, to dwell on her mistakes and the other secrets she was too ashamed to confess. All the promises she made him, and she'd still failed Matt. Her parents had been right about her all along.

"I think this is the quietest dinner we've had since we first met," he said. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but...want to talk about it?"

She smiled weakly, and glanced up at Matt. "About what?" she asked evasively.

"About whatever has you in this gloomy silence," Matt said. "Things have been...strange lately, Xay. You haven't been sleeping, you've been edgy, and I've been getting reports that all isn't pleasant and happy in the science department. It appears you've been snappish to those around you lately. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she replied irritably, and pushed her plate away as she sat back. "I screwed up, Matt. I let that virus on board and I just can't shake that. I have a right to be snappish if I want to be."

"Perhaps the virus was your fault, though I don't believe that's been determined yet," he said. "That would explain the last day. What about before that though? Things have been out of sorts...almost since we came through the wormhole."

She shrugged, again lowering her eyes. "It's nothing. Just some...departmental matters." It wasn't entirely a lie; Saavar was a member of her department, even if the matter had nothing to do with science, and more to do with a bond that could not be broken.

"Of course," Matt said as he watched her body language speaking at odds with what she said. "I guess everything is fine then, and it's just a strange case of insomnia." He didn't disguise the disappointment in his voice as he watched her sadly. Then, with a sigh, he turned his attention back to his food.

"I'm just stressed," she explained. "I can't sleep because...things are on my mind." Her excuses sounded feeble even to herself, and it was obvious by his expression that he wasn't believing one word. She recalled her session with Counsellor Scott, and the advice given to her: tell Matt, or he would begin blaming himself for the decline of their relationship. She was tired of keeping secrets at any rate, and suddenly felt the weight of it in one crashing blow. With a weak sob, she dropped her face into her hands, and let the exhaustion consume her. "I didn't know how to fix it," she whispered.

Matt slid out of his chair and moved around the corner of the table to be closer to her. "Xay," he whispered. "It's me. You can talk to me. What is it?"

"I don't know," she murmured, and turned in her chair to sink into Matt's arms. "It happened on Risa. I needed to catch the person who...who stabbed you." She paused and swallowed hard. "Saavar helped."

Matt took her hand into his. "Go on," he urged gently.

She nodded shakily. "He performed a mind meld," she whispered. "And I think--" Xay sighed and looked up to hold Matt's gaze. "We're bonded. I-I can't get him out of my mind, no matter how much I try. He's always there, Matt. I can't sleep, I can't think..." She sobbed again. "I'm sorry."

"You're...how long has this been going on, Xay? And...and...and why did you keep it from me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," she explained. "I was working through it with Saavar...but he didn't know any way to stop it." Sighing, she whispered, "And neither do I, and I'm just so tired..."

"What do Dr. Sefton or Counsellor Scott say about it," Matt asked. "Or the other Vulcans on the ship? Have the two of you tried to talk to anyone else about this?"

She shook her head. "I don't want the entire ship finding out, Matt," she frowned. "It's...it's embarrassing."

"What's...what's being done about it now," Matt said. "You...you're not just planning on letting it stay this way, are you? To...to have him...always in your mind..." He closed his eyes and sighed, unable to help wondering about recent events.

"Matt," she said firmly, and took his face into her hands. "Do you think I'm enjoying this? It's frightening, being so out of control like this... I can't go to anyone. If they think me incompetent, I'll lose my position on this ship. This is just the excuse everyone's looking for to get rid of me!"

"You're putting yourself in a catch-22," Matt said. "It doesn't sound like you or Saavar have figured out how to sever this bond, but you're unwilling to talk to anyone else who might be able to figure it out. Does he have anything else he's willing to try to break the bond? What's he doing about this?"

"The last time I confronted him," she told him, "he punched a hole into my station. There's no reasoning with him about this. I think he's having just as difficult a time as I am."

"Then we need to get help," Matt said. "I know you don't want to, but someone who is punching holes through my ship is probably going to have a difficult time reasoning through how to break this bond. The alternative, it sounds like, is to just leave everything as it is. To leave this bond in place and hope it goes away or hope that Saavar's faculties return and he can figure this out. Myself, I don't want to lose you before that happens. There's already enough rumours going around the ship about you and Zareb that we don't need this as well." Mention of Zareb had Xayella's panic rising, and abruptly she stood up. "Matt...I don't want to deal with this right now! I'll figure it out, okay? I don't want you involved."

Matt frowned. "Well, I guess you have everything taken care of then. Does that mean we can sleep through the night tonight? Or will we wake up with...well, whatever it is that's keeping you from sleeping?" He shook his head and pushed away from the table. "Fine. Shut me out. Let me know when you get this sorted out. Until then, I'll be sleeping on the couch so that I can actually get some sleep. But, you'll figure it out...so it'll only be...well, it doesn't matter; you don't want me involved." He threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Just let me know when you want me back into your life, Xay. I'll still be here if you want to include me."

"Matt, don't," she called after him, trailing behind. "I want to work through this, but I can't without you. Why do you think I told you!"

"You just told me you don't want me involved," he said. "Which is it? You can't get through this without me, or you want me out of the way? I want to be here for you, Xay...with you, but I can't if you're going to shut me out. I love you, but...but there's so much going on. Don't shut me out, not now...not with...with everything."

She sighed and her body seemed to wilt from fatigue. "I don't want to shut you out," she whispered. "I just...I hate having you see me like this. Please don't tell anyone else. Just let me try and deal with this for a while...with you. If it gets worse, we can talk to someone, but not yet."

"So you're just going to live with him in your head?" Matt asked. "Xay...I'll support you in this, but...these sleepless nights can't go on."

"I know," she insisted, "and they won't. I-I'll get over it, okay? Tonight, I won't even so much as stir." She smiled hopefully. "I promise."

Matt smiled and nodded. "Okay," he said. "Xay, about you and Commander Zareb..."

"There's nothing," she assured him with a tender smile. She moved towards him and laid a hand upon his chest. "I love you. That's enough for me."

"Good," Matt said softly. "I was certain there wasn't anything going on, but with all the talk... I just...I just wanted to hear it from you, and to let you know there is a lot of talk."

She nodded. "I know. I've heard. But there's a lot of misinterpretation, Matt." Smiling, she kissed him lightly, then whispered, "Yours is the only bed I lie in, Matt."

"Lately it's the one you've been tossing and turning in until you suddenly pounce on me at 02h00 for a quick, frantic romp."

Xayella chuckled. "Are you complaining?"

"Not a complaint," Matt said with a laugh. "But, your timing could use a little work, especially after the romp we usually have two hours before that."

She shrugged as her arms looped around his neck. "Well," she whispered, "I'm just trying to build up your stamina. We can go work on that now if you like."

"Not until after you finish your dinner," Matt said, then gave her a deep kiss. He gave her a grin. "Something to look forward to while you finish eating."

Chuckling, she shook her head chidingly. Instead of raising an argument, she kissed Matt's cheek and backed towards the table. "As you wish, Captain."

He followed after her with a smile curling his lips. "I think for what I have planned, you'll need your strength."

She grinned at the prospect, and in that instant, Xayella found her appetite quickly return.

As they settled back into their chairs, the crisis and tension between them lessened slightly for the time being. What the future would have in store, neither could say for certain, but at least some of the recent troubles had been revealed. Though, as he settled into his chair, Matt couldn't help worry over the lack of trust she had in him and her willingness to keep him at a distance and in the dark. Hopefully that too would disappear in time. Hopefully.

---

"Pocketful of Posies"
by Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
and Raina Derrell - Medical Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Corridor and Derrell and Lektar's Quarters
Stardate: 57908.17, 19h07

***

Doctor Potts stepped along the Sulu corridor at a healthy pace, nodding solemnly at the various crew he passed with as much grim-faced seriousness he could muster. It wasn't just the ongoing crisis that had the normally half-manic counselor in dour mood - for many days, Potts had been feeling more than a little bit neglectful of a friend on board. The determined look and smallish bouquet of posies in his left hand spoke to a remedy.

"I certainly hope she hasn't taken my absence as apathy," Potts muttered to no one in particular. He glanced at a naked wrist and noted the passing hour. "Not a lot of time for dinner even if she is willing," he observed, knowing that his meal break was rapidly ticking away. He straightened himself in front of the correct door, licked thumb and index finger, and used them to smooth down wild eyebrows. The posies drooped in his hand theatrically.

"We all know what you think!" he exclaimed at the bouquet even as he pressed the chime with a long finger.

Shirik frowned as her eyes fluttered open. The sound of the 'fresher working let her know her roommate wouldn't be answering the chime any time soon. With a curse grumbled under her breath, she slipped out of bed, rubbed her eyes, and grabbed a blue flowing robe of some light material out of a drawer to slip into before making her way to the door. "Who is it?" she growled at it. She certainly wasn't expecting any visitors, so she assumed it was someone to see Raina. Without waiting for the answer, she muttered at the computer, "Come."

The light from the corridor streamed into the dim room with the hiss of the door, silhouetting a dumpy little bald man and his slightly wilted flowers. He hesitated stepping inside - Ensign Lektar was doing an admirable job of blocking the doorway in spite of her slight frame - but did beam a decaying smile at her. Though it went unreturned, Shirik was enjoying the rare opportunity to physically look down at a fellow crewmember.

"You are the Drokari Princess!" Potts exclaimed excitedly, simultaneously pointing at her with his bouquet and offering a formal bow. "Suk mikil," he attempted, committing a small murder of proper pronunciation.

This only deepened her frown, and she crossed her arms. "Who are you? And what do you want?" She pointedly ignored the use of her native tongue, although she did wonder where he could have picked it up. The first name that came to mind was Mason Farrell, which didn't do anything to improve her mood.

"Doctor Ilan Potts," the half-Deltan said, extending a long-fingered hand as he went on tip-toes and looked over the only slightly taller Ensign. "I had hoped to visit a bit with Ensign Derrell." Not seeing his quarry, he sank back down flat-footed and returned his gaze to lovely violet eyes. "I tried to call first but the com system seems to be having a wee bit of trouble."

She recognized the name, which also didn't improve her mood. He was a counsellor. And the crazy one, to boot. She turned her back on him as she went back inside the room, and pointed at the sofa in the living area. "She's in the 'fresher. You can wait for her over there." She made her way back to her bed. Unfortunately for her, the room was small enough that there were no walls separating the living area from the two beds in the sleeping area.

Potts took no notice of the rudeness nor did he even realize that she had refused his hand. He bounded inside the quarters like a playful puppy and turned a full circle. "Wonderful quarters," Potts said cheerfully, still looking about. "There is something quaint about sharing your sleeping space with another. I miss it at times."

Shirik held her tongue against the thought that first popped into her head, that perhaps Potts would like to move in with Raina. But would Raina like that? She hoped not... "Yeah, wonderful," she said, sitting on the bed and hoping Raina came out soon.

Potts stopped his twirl and regarded the young-looking Drokari with a smile. "You must think me fiendish and uncouth, Ensign." He shook the posies at her, dislodging a small petal or two. "If I had known Raina had such a lovely roommate, I would have brought flowers for you as well." He winked at her. "Don't think ill of me just yet...give it some time and you'll have a solid good reason."

"That's quite all right," she said. She was about to add a rude comment, but something stopped her. He might be a kook, but so far he was pleasant enough, anyway. He seemed sincere, unlike some others she'd met on board. Although she was certain she wanted nothing further to do with him, at least she could be civil until he gave her reason not to be.

Potts sank down on the sofa and crossed his legs at the knee. "How are you finding the Sulu, Ensign?" he asked, gingerly laying his bouquet on the cushion next to him. "I would imagine that it's quite a change from the homeworld, eh?"

"It's an adequate assignment, and not my first," she said. "I've not been to my homeworld in eleven years. So far, I'm satisfied with my duties and my assigned quarters."

"Eleven years!" Potts exclaimed, looking somewhat tortured. "I enjoy visiting Delta IV and Earth whenever I can...I do not think I could suffer being away from either home for eleven years." Ilan let his eyes drift over the room again before looking back to Shirik. "Would you mind terribly if I smoked?"

She shrugged. She didn't expect to see much of her homeworld from here on anyway. She frowned once more. "Yes, I would. I prefer my air unpolluted, thank you."

"Oh, I wasn't going to smoke," Potts clarified. "I simply wondered if you would mind." Potts examined his fingernails absently. "Filthy habit, that...I was surprised to find that some folks on board still engage in it."

She just eyed him with a puzzled expression. So, he didn't actually smoke himself, and just pretended he did to see her reaction? Or did he really, but after seeing her reaction didn't want her to think he did? He was a kook, she decided.

Raina wanted nothing more than a few hours uninterrupted rest before she was needed back in sickbay. It had already been a very long day, tomorrow would be another. A short time later she appeared. "Ever heard of calling before just showing up? Besides you picked a lousy time to just drop by, who knows how much sleep I'm going to manage without any added distractions." While she never looked directly at Potts she knew he was there.

"Sorry, darlingest," Potts replied nonplused, getting to his feet. "I tried to call but my combadge cycled into the library computer and it began endlessly repeating a recipe for bean dip."

"Save it," Raina nearly snapped at him. "Don't call me that. You know what would be even better is if you'd just leave. I don't care who it was only that it happened and you and I seem to have very different goals when it comes to that." Fuming now she paused just long enough to catch her breath. "I'm working on at least a double shift and I'll be lucky to get in 4 hours of sleep before I have to be back on duty."

Potts blinked stupidly once or twice and forgot to look wounded. " 'Who it was?' " he said, making her words into a question. "Raina, whatever are you talking about?"

She just looked at him. "Go fly a kite, take a flying leap or surf the protomatter of some star. I really don't care, just go."

Shirik just sat on her bed, more or less staring. First one eyebrow went up, then the other. She'd never heard Raina so angry before, even when those imbecilic nurses in sickbay had teased her. The look she now fixed on Potts was even less friendly than before, if that was possible. Obviously the little toad had done something to hurt Raina.

"All of those sound like exciting, fun, potentially deadly activities," Potts agreed thoughtfully, not noticing the stereo glares. "And I would never dream of imposing on your rest, Raina. However, I must admit that I'm at a loss concerning your ire...if I'm interrupting your sleep cycle, simply tell me and I'll be pleased to go. But this sounds like something else entirely."

Raina was furious. "Don't play dumb with me. You woke up with someone else. Word flies faster than warp speed on this ship and just because I've been working double shifts or more in sickbay doesn't mean I'm oblivious to that. I said before I want you gone. Now go!"

For a moment, stark panic touched Potts until he remembered that there were other potential candidates besides the one that immediately popped to mind. "Crewman Pfeiffer?" Potts made a guess as he took a step backwards towards the door. "Raina, loveliest, that hardly counts as anything at all. A mere coupling in the very wee hours by two people feeling rather lonely."

"Just what do you think this is all about," she replied bitterly, "You haven't heard a thing I've said have you. Something like that counts...maybe not to you but it does to me." Raina's gaze was very cold, "Call me loveliest again and I'll invent a reason for you to end up in sickbay. I'm losing sleep and am in no mood to continue this discussion any further than I have. Counselor, I really don't know what you think stands between us now but I'm not about to put myself in a position to get hurt. It's over."

Shirik got to her feet and padded silently towards the living area, a murderous look aimed at Potts. "Get out. Now," she said, her voice holding the ring of authority.

Potts briefly regarded Lektar with a stare sitting somewhere between incredulousness and indignation before looking back to Derrell. Raina's last two words had contained that certain bit of finality that popped the room back to a reality where Potts suddenly became aware of the utter ridiculousness of the scene and the participants. He found himself feeling embarrassed, a rare emotion he'd met once or twice and then only in passing. He looked down at the deck and stepped backward into the opening door.

"Of course, Ensign Derrell," he said in a small voice, placing both hands behind his back. His mouth hung open for a long moment as he sought to force the words from his mind. "What you might think of me and my value system, admittedly alien to your own, is certainly no longer important...but I do regret if it caused you pain." He nodded at his pitiable posies still lying on the cushion of the sofa. "The flowers can be a little long-winded but I hope you enjoy them." The door swished behind him.

Raina unceremoniously tossed the flowers in the reclamator before lying down on her bed and turning out her light. "Sorry you had to witness that," was her only comment to Shirik.

Shirik shrugged and slipped back into her own bed, after slipping out of her robe. "I've witnessed worse," she said.

The posies, bent and tousled in the reclamation bin, bravely faced their demise in stoic silence. Nobody else in the room spoke of Potts again that night.

---

"And The Dead May Speak"
Lt. (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer
Ensign Kit Markham - Helm Officer
Ensign Kelzira Rax - Science Officer

Location: USS Mallory Shuttle Mission
Stardate: 57908.17, 19h40

***

Natalia Druschev was kept extremely busy during the four hour journey in the shuttle. Calibration of the sensor systems, diagnostics and test samples of surrounding space monopolised her time, while Kelzira Rax and Kit Markham chatted amiably in the pilot and co-pilot seats.

They were obviously friends - and a little more than that by the way they looked at each other and freely touched while laughing about previous experiences. It made Natalia feel a little jealous that they were so clearly friends. She hadn't developed any true friends as yet - only Shyla Moreau was looking like a prospect.

She finished up with every test she could think of and then a few more and finally went forward to sit behind the pilot. There was another hour remaining until the reached the plotted position of the Electromagnetic Shell from the Dead Planet. That was how Natalia thought of the place. The Dead World - The Planetary Cemetery...it was creepy. She hadn't liked the thought of taking samples of the bodies from the world. It wasn't right. They were sentient Beings not scientific samples. Thinking of the place made her sad. As she sat down behind Kit Markham she was conscious that her presence interrupted the discussion and she smiled at the two officers. She liked Kit; he was cheerful and he had a nice laugh. Natalia knew that he was also compassionate - and was easy to talk to. She remembered telling him to look her up if ever he and Amy were no longer an item. That was funny - in retrospect.

"I really don't think your little blue girlfriend is as innocent as she makes herself out to be if that's what she said to you," Kit was saying as Natalia sat down.

Kelli giggled. "She is though," she said. "I think the cutest part is when she says something particularly racy like that, she blushes like you wouldn't believe, as if she can't even believe she said that." She looked over at Natalia and smiled. "Hi, Lieutenant. Still no sign of the EM field, though I think we're getting close. I'm starting to see a little more random clutter on the sensors."

Natalia smiled and nodded. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked.

"Nope," Kit said with a grin. "We were just catching up. Kelli's 'What Tchalla did last night' stories are always fun. So, everything set up back there for the Great Experiment. Er, Sir?"

"Yes," she laughed. "As much as can be. " She looked at Kelli. "Tchalla.. she is Andorian no?"

Kelzira nodded. "She is."

"Are they not an aggressive species?" Natalia asked. She hadn't known anyone to have a relationship with an Andorian.

"Normally they are very aggressive," Kelzira answered. "It's one of the reasons the sports they have on their world exist, which helped to keep them from wiping themselves out long ago. But, Tchi's taken a pacifistic role. She's gentle and kind, but...you can still see the roots of aggression when she gets frustrated. She's a pacifist though, and..." She grinned and blushed.

Kit laughed. "You'll have to excuse, Kelzira, she tends to get quite gushy when it comes to talking about Tchalla."

Natalia laughed. "I wish I had someone to be gushy about!" She gave Kit a speculative look. "Pity all the handsome pilots are taken." She winked at Kelzira.

Kelli grinned. "Oh, I don't know about this one," she said. "You'd have to fight Amy for him, and she's taking these fighting lessons. By the time we get out of Gamma Quadrant, she'll be able to snap the ship in half with a kick. Though, if you're looking for someone on the ship, I think I'm the girl to talk to. I had...well, I had a bit of a wild streak for awhile."

Natalia just laughed. "Amy is a lucky girl then...but I'm not so wild," she admitted, "and I have a son to look after." She looked at Kit. "How's your band going?"

"It's going well," Kit said. "Tchalla and Kelli are backup singers. And, after Gordo transferred off-ship, Taylor Bennett is playing drums for us now. It gets rough at times, but we're developing a good sound, and one that doesn't set the pets of the Sulu to yowling."

"It sounds fun," Natalia replied. She leaned a little closer to Kit as she spoke, holding his gaze for a moment. "I'd love to hear you play..." Her accent gave her voice a sultry quality. It didn't hurt to flirt occasionally, she smiled.

Kit grinned. "I think that'd be fun," he said. Then he leaned closer to her and added, "As long as the others are okay with it, you can sit in on our next rehearsal. If you're available."

She grinned, holding his gaze and nodded. "I'm available," she replied with only a slight inflection on the word, and adding a separate meaning to it altogether.

Kit glanced sideways at Kelzira, then back to Natalia. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. He kept his outward expression pleasant, but warning sirens were going off in his head. He liked Natalia, but he had a feeling that if Amy could see her flirting with him, bad things would happen.

Natalia laughed and looked across at Kelzira as the woman had seen the exchange. "If you can find me someone like Mister Markham...." She grinned.

"Oh, if it were just possible to bundle them all into one man," Kelzira said. "Then you'd have Kit. If you're ever just interested in a fling, Jeff Davies. He has a tongue like you would not believe. There are times that I still get warm just thinking about it. I like to call him the tour guide of the g-spot. If you're not too particular and don't mind spending your time with a woman, Kate Hansen is also a dream. You just have to get past the cool exterior first. Her sister is also pretty amazing, though she's more reserved. She does this thing with her tongue though that...wow. Boom, instant orgasm. Well, not quite instant, but it definitely sends you there in a hurry. Ben Howden, in science, is also very fun in a very non-committed kind of way. Though, whisper the right things in his ear, and you may land him. Stay away from Derran Casey. He's got the tools, but doesn't know how to use them. He's nice to look at, and fun in bed if you can keep him from going to warp before he's even gotten out of the docking clamps."

Natalia's mouth dropped open when she started talking about Jeff Davies and her expression paled then went beet red as she finished up with Derran Casey. "Well...." She didn't know quite what to say. "Sounds like...you've been busy." Then suddenly she giggled at the lurid descriptions of their various talents. "I've never thought of being with a woman."

"I never had before Amy," Kelzira said, then laughed. "Though, I can vividly remember many times with women, but...it wasn't quite the same, since I was a man then. I'm still not quite used to Rax's past memories, but it definitely does make for some interesting conversation. But, it's nice being with a woman, at least I think so. They're soft, and they smell nice, and they...I don't know. It's just nice. Though, there are some things you end up missing, but that can be worked around." She glanced over at Kit as he was rolling his eyes. "And, I was busy, I'm not anymore."

Natalia said a silent 'Ohhh' as she realised that the Trill was joined. "That must be so fascinating," she said, the lurid sex forgotten as she was far more interested in the life of a Trill. "To have memories of being a woman and a man...you would at least appreciate the differences in thought processes yes?" The discussion of sex with another woman made Natalia vaguely uneasy, and curious at the same time. She just hadn't considered a possibility before, and had never met another female that she was even remotely interested in. It came as a bit of a shock to realize that Kelzira was so open about her sexuality and openly admitting of having sex with Amy - Kit's fiancée. Though he didn't seem in the least bothered by it.

"It truly is," Kelzira said. "Sometimes, it gets confusing, but for the most part I'm getting used to the differences. I didn't complete the training, so...things have come as a shock at times. Keeping the previous ones straight can be difficult. It has definitely given me an appreciation of a lot of things I never realized before I was joined. Though, I think I've had enough of the childbirth for a few generations. Though, in a few years, who knows, Tchi and I may want...and we'd have to figure something out."

"I thought joined Trills steered away from relationships?" Natalia's scientific curiosity was definitely getting the better of her. "It can be really hard on the other person if something happens to you and your symbiont passes to another Trill. Though the child question is another thing entirely - I doubt that Andorian and Trill genes are compatible."

"We would need outside help of some sort," Kelzira said. "Though, I know that Tchalla isn't exactly racing to start a family and neither am I. And, usually it's the previous host whose relationships are avoided. So, I wouldn't go seeking out any of Looryx's old girlfriends. But, there's no taboo against me finding my own girlfriend."

Natalia nodded and considered what Kelzira was saying. "I hope I'm not being rude by asking, but I've not had an opportunity to talk so...openly," she grinned. "So...is it the memories from your other hosts that make you attracted to women...or is it Kelzira? I'd get awfully confused...being a man then a woman. How do you cope with it?" She looked briefly at Kit who was piloting the shuttle. They hadn't reached the plotted location yet.

As she glanced in his direction, Kit gave her a sidelong look. There was an amused smile on his lips as he listened to them talk, but otherwise just kept doing his job.

Kelli laughed and nodded. "I get confused as well sometimes," she said. "I think my attraction to women is me though, as is my attraction to men. Though, because of my past hosts, I remember what it felt like to be with either. Of course, my memories from Looryx or Epharyn can get really confusing because they had different anatomy, but...every day becomes an adventure."

"Different anatomy?" Natalia was hooked. Her eyes alight with interest as she focused her attention of Kelzira. "How do you mean?"

"Making love to a woman as a woman is different than making love to a woman as a man," Kelzira said with a grin. "As a man, I had...well, parts...that I don't have now. Like...Kit, he has...you know...but I don't."

"Ohhh," Natalia giggled and clapped a hand over her mouth and blushed furiously. "I thought you meant he wasn't a Trill!" She laughed. "Like alien anatomy!" She giggled again, sounding very girlish.

Kelzira giggled. "Well, it's alien to me."

"Sometimes I think that they are an alien species!" Natalia laughed as she regarded Kit. "They think so strange! Men! Nothing but trouble." She gave Kit a wink and a sexy smile. "I wish I wasn't so interested in trouble...." She grinned.

"And, Kit is more trouble than all of them put together," Kelzira said. She gave Kit a grin. "In the nicest possible way, of course. Actually, they're really not so bad when you figure out they're driven by their basic needs. Usually, if sex is involved, you've got them in the palm of your hand. If not sex, sports or moving at extremely fast velocities works as well."

"Sex doesn't work well for me," Natalia said with a shrug. "I thought I had something with Mason Farrell - but he just wasn't up for having a relationship with someone who had a nine year old boy." She looked at Kit and smiled. "He's just an asshole."

Kit laughed. "You won't get any argument from me," he said with a grin. "And, sex is nice when you're having it, terrible when you want it and can't get it, but should never be the basis of a relationship. You're a wonderful woman, Natalia, and if Farrell couldn't see that he's not only an asshole but a myopic idiot."

"See...." Natalia smiled at Kelzira. "I want one just like him." She impulsively leaned forward and gave Kit a kiss on the cheek. "You're a darling, and you can say those nice things to me anytime you want, Mister Markham." She giggled and sat back with a sigh. "I know...I was so caught up with the way he swept me off my feet...I didn't stand a chance on Risa. He really was good," she said to Kelzira. She blushed again and made to fan her face with a hand. "Really good...." She grinned. "But he's still an asshole."

Kelzira sighed. "I've known men like him," she said. "Hell, for a time, I was one. At least, Epharyn was before he woke up one morning and actually found himself in love. She actually left him and he never saw her again, but it was a good enough shock to jar him into changing."

"Well, Mister Farrell is involved with Counselor Chambers," she said. "I guess he prefers skinny blonde bimbos." Natalia shrugged. "Well the past is the past. I should just forget about men for a while. If I start playing around all I'll end up with is a bad reputation."

"I think it's possible to do it without getting a reputation," Kelli said. "I did it. I'm done with it now, but very few people talked. Which I guess is actually fairly strange for this ship."

Natalia shrugged once more. "The gossip is cruel...some of the things people say." She gave Kit a smile. "It's not nice to be on the receiving end is it?"

"No," Kit said, "it's not nice, but it feels good when you can rise above the gossip and what people say. It's nice to show people how wrong they are, not that I'm a bitter or vindictive person by nature...but I tend to feel that way when I'm around people who like to stand on other people's backs to make themselves feel better."

"I've been on the Sulu for about two months now...and I still find it hard to meet people," Natalia smiled. "With all that's happened I guess socialising hasn't been a priority for many. I will take you up on your offer, Kit, I need to be around people and have some fun for a change. Science is so serious...it's depressing."

"But it can be fun as well," Kelzira said. "You just need to concentrate on the fun parts to help offset the depressing ones."

"We're coming up on the site," Kit announced suddenly. "I think the fun part's about to start."

Natalia nodded. Time to work. "Okay, Kelzira, if you could start to eliminate the random stellar noise and clean up what ever signals we find, I'll get started in deploying the sensor pod and refining the search." She gave them both an excited grin. "I don't know about you two, but I love my job." She chuckled.

"My job consists of flying the two of you around the system," Kit said with a grin. "How could I ever complain about that?"

"Funny," Kelli said as she settled herself behind one of the stations and began bringing the sensors online. Filtering out most of the noise would be easy enough. Making the rest of it make sense, that was the tricky part.

"You can fly me anytime," Natalia flirted as she grinned at Kit. She walked back into the rear compartment and started work. This was what she'd trained for! First Contact with a dead species! How exciting could it get? "Slow to quarter impulse, Kit." She tapped out a series of terminal commands and examined the result. "Come to course zero one one mark zero, I'm picking up a gaseous cloud that will add too much signal interference and we'll need to clear it."

"Slowing to one quarter impulse, aye," Kit said as he made the adjustments to their heading and speed. "Course zero one one mark zero set."

"Running the cloud through all available filters," Kelzira announced. "Should start to look clear on your display in just a moment.

Natalia smiled. "Got it," she replied and her fingers danced on the iconic display. "Nothing but stellar white noise," she said softly. "Continue of course, we should catch up to the electromagnetic shell anytime now...." There was a wait of only a few minutes before Natalia's screen beeped as the computer analysis of the ambient noise picked up a pattern. "We have something.." her fingers tapped and the signal was isolated. She sent it to Kelzira's station so that she could clean it up a little, though it was a simplistic series of bursts on a single frequency. "Looks like a beacon of some kind...maybe that's all that was left working after the end. We are approaching this from the perspective of last to first, my guess is we'll find signals generated by equipment left active after the demise of the population first."

"That sounds reasonable," Kelzira said. "So, shouldn't be much farther, depending on how long it was broadcasting after they all died. I'm starting to pick up a little more here. Lieutenant?"

Natalia walked forward and halted behind Kelzira to examine her displays. "Da?"

"What about that there," she said, pointing to the new data coming in on the sensors. "That's looking pretty close to what I'd think the broadcasts would look like."

Natalia nodded. "We're going to get a lot of separate signals blended into a conglomerate mass of electronic noise. We'll have to separate them through filters to determine visual and audio data streams and compensate for the stellar radiation levels in this area of space. As you separate them, I'll try to compile them and see what we get." She smiled at Kelzira and went back to her own work station. Now the hard work starts! she thought as she started the recording systems.

Kelzira diligently set to work separating all the signals coming into the shuttle's sensors. There was a lot of data to filter and sift through, but with the computer's help it was possible. Time clicked slowly past, but it looked like they were getting some good data. There was too much data to make any sense of it within the context of what they were searching for, Kelli was relying on Natalia for that.

After a long period of time where the only sounds on the bridge were the noises being made by the computer, Kelzira glanced back at Natalia. "How's the data looking back there, Lieutenant?"

Natalia was grinning as she worked. So far there were thirty-four discreet signal definitions that she was channeling into separate filters. The computer was deleting the stellar radiation noise and attempting to clean up the channels. The Sulu's computer would be needed to compile a finished product but she could already view at least six visual records. "The signals are increasing in density," she reported. "We have thirty four...thirty six...and increasing. There is a data stream of mixed signals that we'll have to put through the Sulu's computer to make sense of...but we are getting visual and audio signals. I'm putting the audio through the filters and the universal translator matrix. We haven't got enough cross references to make sense of anything yet...a few more hours though." She sounded excited.

"I imagine out here," Kit said, "if we can piece this data together, we can figure out exactly when things started for them, when the plague hit and started its destruction."

"That's what I was thinking," Natalia grinned. "With any luck we'll find enough data for the translation matrix to work - then we'll have a viable translation of their language and be able to decipher their written texts. Then it will be exciting! Think of the possibilities..." She was still working as she spoke, and now they were up to forty-seven separate data streams. There would be a goldmine of information here, just waiting to be plucked out of the ether!

"Kelzira, could you begin the transfer of data to the Sulu, we'll get the computer to start processing this and cross reference any matches against what the Away Team brought up." Natalia grinned - her idea was paying dividends!

"Preparing to send," Kelzira announced. "Though, considering the troubles they've been having, I think I'll keep a copy here as well. I'd hate to pick up all this, and then have the ship's computer eat it."

"That would be wise," Natalia nodded. She lost her smile as she considered what was happening on Sulu. Domenic was there while she was here...though she had arranged for him to be watched by Shyla Moreau. "I wonder what's going on on the Sulu?" she mused. "By the looks of it there's enough data coming through for what we need." She stepped onto the flight deck and leaned on the seat backs behind Kit. "Would either of you two mind if we stayed out here for the next twenty hours or so? That will give us enough time to gather data that our cultural anthropologists and linguists will be busy with for months. It'll give is a chance to secure enough data for future exploration of the planet. It's Class M, so I'd say that the Federation might even use it as an advance base in this Quadrant. What do you say? It's not an order, guys - volunteer only, and I'd have to check in with the Captain."

Kelzira's first thought was of Tchalla, but she nodded. A night away would be fine, and Tchi would understand. She'd probably be upset if Kelli returned to the ship without taking up such an opportunity. "I'm in," she said with a smile.

"Me too," Kit said, though his thoughts were on Amy as well. He absently rubbed at the plain band circling his finger, given to him by Amy before he'd left. It was a sign of their commitment, and one he would keep wearing no matter what.

Natalia smiled. "Okay - thanks guys - this is an opportunity too rare to pass up." She sat in the co-pilot's chair and accessed the communications array. "Mallory to Sulu, Lieutenant Druschev for Captain Salinger."

"Salinger here," the captain said when he appeared. "How can I help you, Lieutenant?"

Natalia smiled at the image of the Sulu's handsome captain as he looked out of the screen from the Sulu's Bridge. "Sir. We're sending the data through to the Sulu now - there's lots of it," she grinned. "We're getting audio and visual, and the Universal Translation Matrix is running on it. Sir - there's so much that the team would like to continue recording and get a decent historic record. I'd like permission to extend the away mission for another twenty hours...that should get us enough data for an accurate record of their last five years of transmissions."

"You've got twenty hours," Salinger said. "As much information as you can get...it'll help." He looked away for a moment, nodded, and turned back to the viewer. "Lieutenant, may I have a private word with Ensign Rax?"

"Of course, sir." Natalia nodded and turned away from the screen. "Ensign, the captain wants to talk to you." She relinquished her seat to allow Kelli to slip into the co-pilot station. Natalia stepped back, the captain had said private.

Kit looked over as Kelli settled in front of the comm terminal. He forced his attention away and to Natalia. "So, how's the science side of this little excursion going? You seemed pretty excited back there..."

Natalia grinned, her excitement apparent. In fact she hadn't felt this good in a long time. "Better than I'd ever hoped." She leaned against the bulkhead and crossed her arms. "We're getting a lot of data - usable I'd say. We have the translation computer working away on it and I think we should have a viable language translation by the time we get back to the Sulu. The captain has given us the twenty hours - so we'll be working though the night...not that we can tell night out here," she laughed. "Will Amy mind that you're spending the night in a shuttle with two women?" Her eyes were alight with amusement. It was a shame he was so taken.

Kit chuckled. "I don't think so," he said. "She trusts me, and she knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt our relationship...though, I think flirting is alright. Besides, it's really only one woman in the shuttle because Kelzira appears to be incapable of looking at anyone else lately. For her, Tchi is everything and more."

"It must be nice having someone like that." Natalia looked a little wistful. She smiled at Kit and added, "I'm only flirting too...but you know that." She chuckled.

Kit grinned. "I know," he said. "And, I don't think Amy would be too upset about that, I mean she--"

His words were interrupted by the sound of sobbing coming from behind them. He turned to see Kelzira, hands covering her face, obviously crying. Kit quickly slipped out of his chair and went to her. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears, and crumpled into his arms. As she murmured what had happened to him, he somehow managed to pick out the details. He turned to Natalia, all humour gone from his expression. "There's a virus on the Sulu, from the planet. Tchalla is sick."

Natalia's face paled. She stepped across to the communication screen. Salinger was still there and as Natalia leaned over Kelzira she said, "Captain, is a quarantine situation in force? I went on an Away Team too." She was cold - her guts tightened at the thought of Domenic. "Do we have anything to worry about here, sir?"

"At this stage, it doesn't appear so," Salinger said. "The virus doesn't appear to be affecting humans."

"Thank God!" Natalia's response was full of relief for Domenic as well as herself. "We'll continue the mission, sir, we may find something that will help - and we're definitely gathering enough data for the universal translation system to come up with a viable lingual construction. We'll keep the data stream open and maintain a copy here as well. We'd appreciate updates on Ensign Mel'Chir's status too, sir."

"We'll send them as we can," Matt said. "Ship's systems are getting worse, so I cannot say for certain that we'll be able to get messages out, but...but we'll try."

"Thank you, sir." Natalia gave him a smile. "We'll get back to work. We'll check in every six hours and return to the Sulu sometime around 2300hrs on the 19th."

"Good luck, Lieutenant," Matt said. "We'll keep you posted. Salinger out."

---

"Locked Out, Part 1"
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: Holodeck 3, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17 21h57

***

Vincent let out a long breath as he crawled out of the Jefferies tube onto the fourth deck. It seemed like a long time since Lieutenant Commander Sam had asked him to check the holomatrix and hololabs. He had spent almost all of his spare time during the last week looking into it for him. Naturally, Vincent had checked the hololabs first before checking each holodeck's holomatrix individually. The prospect that a saboteur was on board really riled him. That any man (or woman for that matter) could seek harm upon their crewmates and ship, was an idea that he despised. And then there was the self-destruct mechanism that was set to go soon. Vincent wondered why he was even doing this.

Entering the dark holodeck, Vincent could see the faint glow of the projector's gridlines. This struck Vincent as curious. Hadn't the power to the holodeck been shut off? As he heard the soft hiss of the door closing behind him, Vincent was immediately launched into a holoprogram.

Hearing a jungle bird cry over head, Vincent immediately craned his neck to look up. An endless canopy of trees greeted him. Baffled, Vincent did his best to hold back the stream of profanities waiting to flood from his mouth. What was this? Vincent knew that the ship's computers were playing up, he had lost gravity five times just getting here, but this surprised even him.

"Computer," he cried out to vast expanse of jungle. "End Program!"

Still the jungle appeared before him. He had just about had enough. It had been a stressful week, both physically and mentally. He repeated his previous order, this time with more emphasis and urgency. "Computer, end program!"

For a moment it seemed like the computer had responded and the room was returned to black. Vincent certainly thought so, as he let out a relieved sigh. When he opened his eyes again, he was met with that, now annoying, familiar green of the jungle.

"What is it with you?" Vincent asked in frustration under his breath. He pounded his fist against the console that he was meant to be working at. For over a week he had been looking at the records of this and the other holodeck but he had not come up with anything. Noticing a change in lighting, Vincent hit the console again. Yes, he could see it now. When he hit the console the hologram flickered. It was probably time to call for backup but Vincent was not about to let a renegade program interrupt his work.

He thumped the console again and again, continuously for about a minute. The program kept flickering but refused to close. Giving up, Vincent gave it one final thump with the back of his hand. The jungle program finally ended. Only to be replaced by another one, this one an underwater scene.

Fed up Vincent let an exasperated breath out, as his left hand moved to his communicator, to call for help. There was no chirp, beep, or tone as Vincent hit the badge. Not even the crackle of static. Dead silence. Looking down at his badge in anger, Vincent seemed possessed to rip it off and fling it at the dolphin, grinning benignly a few feet away.

Giving the dolphin a sarcastic smile, Vincent stared out at the expanse of deep blue greeting him. How was he going to get out of this one? The answer came to him. He turned on his heel and headed to the door. He punched in the code to open the door. And he walked right into it. Rubbing his head, Vincent let out the stream of profanities that he had been holding back before. In every insult he could think of, he questioned the door's parentage, breeding, honor and intellect. He tried again. And again the door did not open. Vincent was very frustrated now. He ripped off the defunct commbadge and threw it at the dolphin, still with the idiotic grin on its face. He leant back against the door and slumped down, exhausted. He had no way out of this. He gave the console a final thump and everything turned black.

---

"Observations"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Ensign Ainsley Chambers - Counselor

Location: Observation Deck, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.17, 22h20

***

The Observation Deck was usually a very quiet place. It was a small area dominated by an arc of view ports that covered three sides of the room. It was a good place to look at the stars and to think. Benedict stepped through the door, looking more at the decking than what was in front of him. He'd been pacing the deck for the last hour waiting for midnight. Waiting for the time to roll around so that he could see Tayla and find out whether they still had a relationship.

The door closed and he realised that he wasn't alone. A female was standing against the port railing, staring out at the planet below.

She was very attractive - blonde and if he was correct she was Ensign Ainsley Chambers, a counselor. He walked up to the railing and nodded to her. "Counsellor," he said with a hint of a smile. "Nice place to come to think," he added. "If you would like to be alone...." He motioned toward the door, indicating that he'd leave if she wanted him to.

She nodded at T'Kal. "That's alright, Commander, I'm just here wasting time." She was just passing time until Mason was off his shift. "What about you?" she asked. "What are you doing wandering around so late in the evening?"

He gave her a grin and leaned on the railing. "Same as you I'm afraid." He turned to look out the port, the planet below spun silently in space. "Everything is humming along nicely, and I've worked Gamma, Alpha and Beta today." He looked back at the blonde woman. "Our first encounter with a Gamma Quadrant species - and everyone's dead. Doesn't raise morale much does it?" His voice sounded sad.

"Not at all," Ainsley responded. "What about you, Commander? You sound a little sad. And working so much can't be good for that." She turned and looked at him. She knew she was slipping easily into her counselor mode, but she figured most expected it now anyway.

He shrugged. "I had a Gamma shift command rotation and my normal Alpha. Commander Lyrr is working Beta so I figured I'd catch up on some reports and all the odd things you put aside when daily crises arrive." He smiled. "I figured I'd give myself an early minute...and wait for Tay to get off shift." The fact he was nervous about seeing her was a stone in his gut.

There was a slight alteration in his tone that perhaps indicated to Ainsley's trained senses that there was something else - something he wasn't looking forward to about waiting.

"What is it?" Ainsley asked. "What is it that's bothering you?"

He looked at her and his eyes slightly narrowed. He was silent for a long moment before he looked away and shrugged. "Is it that obvious?" he asked.

"Probably not to everyone," she responded. "But this is my job, remember," she added with a grin.

He gave her a wan smile. He thought about what he was going to say for a minute, and finally sighed. "Doubts, Counselor, doubts about what I'm getting myself into. I don't doubt how I feel - but I doubt that it's the right thing to do. I'm involved with Lyrr Tayla - what if she compromises her command for my sake? I have these questions...but no real answers."

Ainsley looked at him for a moment, listening to what he was saying and watching his expressions on his face. "In the end, it all boils down to one thing. You only have control of what you do, you have no control over what she does."

He smiled a little at that. "Yes, I suppose that's true. I chose to let her know how I feel, but I still don't know whether that was the right thing to do. She's the XO - she's my boss, part of me says I shouldn't have started it. Now it might end and I'm torn between letting that happen and not letting go. My head says I should let it go - my heart says I should hold on. Which do I listen to?" He looked at Ainsley and then out at the stars. "It's so simple to take the easy way out."

"I've always been a bit of a romantic," Ainsley said. "If I don't follow my heart I worry that in the future I'll constantly be wondering about what could have been. If only I'd just followed my heart." She shrugged a little. "But that's just me."

He smiled and nodded. "If only..." he said softly. "I don't think I'd enjoy that. It's no fun being alone is it?" It was a rhetorical question. "Duty versus the heart. We live our whole lives in small ships and some people wonder why we find romance. I love the woman. I guess that answers that doesn't it?" He gave Ainsley a smile. "I just hope she feels the same."

"Here's hoping," Ainsley said with a smile. "All you can do is commit wholeheartedly from your end and then see what happens. It can be a little frightening, but what else can you do?" It was a rhetorical question as well.

Benedict nodded. He smiled at Ainsley and for some reason felt a little better about what he was about to face. "Karma. It's all karma. You are right, what else can I do?" He nodded. "Thanks, Counselor." He stood back and sighed. "You have a good evening," he said and looked at the stars one last time. "I'll see you around," he said as he left her to her own thoughts. Now all I have to do is face her, he thought as he tried to calm his mind. Chambers was right. It was frightening.

Ainsley watched T'Kal leave, her mind on her own relationship. It was easy to give advice when you're standing on the outside looking in. She smiled then, things with her and Mason seemed to have finally gotten good. They were much more comfortable with each other and had built up their trust in each other again. She smiled as a happy feeling welled up in her chest. Suddenly a thought formed in her mind. Am I falling in love with him? Talk about frightening.

---

"Locked, Part 2"
Ensign Vincent Chan, Science Officer

Location: Holodeck 3, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.17, 23h50

***

Staring blankly into the darkness Vincent could hardly believe his ill fortune. He got up from the doorway and felt his way around the room, looking for an exit, a hole, a ventilation tube, anything at all to help him get out. A small protrusion at the rear of the room gave Vincent a glimmer of hope.

Positioning himself where he could place all his weight into it, Vincent began to tug at the protrusion, in the hope of revealing some hatchway or Jeffries tube. Despite his most persistent attempts, the metal covering refused to move an inch.

The need to know what lay beneath possessed him. But he had no light to work with. Staring around the gloom, Vincent could see nothing. He allowed his eyes to adjust and still could see nothing. He slammed his shoulder into the panel, hoping to dent it, spring a catch or do something to it. A sickening crunch as he collided made Vincent recoil and fall to the floor. Out of sheer pain, Vincent blacked out.

***Stardate 57908.20, 04h10***

It had been three days since Vincent had entered the holodeck to investigate the holomatrix. It had been three days since he had become trapped there, by God knows what. And it had been three days since he had fractured his collarbone after ramming it into the panel in the wall.

He had awoken on the second day, his lips parched, his thirst and hunger pestering him, and his desire to get out at an all time high. Despite his injury he had tried and exhausted every possibility he could think of in getting that door open. He had though about shouting but that would have been useless - no one could have possibly heard him.

He had eventually gotten the panel open, he wasn't quite sure how, but all it turned out to be was an emergency supply compartment containing a tricorder, an environmental suit and some copper wiring. The tricorder was useless to him - he had his own and that failed to produce any miracles. The environmental suit might come in handy and he had been constructing a crude tool out of the copper wire, hoping to poke it into the electrical console next to the door and somehow trigger it to open.

Vincent walked over to the console and peered into the dark mass of wiring that ran the holodeck door. Staring down at his crude wire tool Vincent began to doubt whether this would work. All he had done was double the wire over and reinforced it before bending a hook at the sharper end. He had already ripped his left sleeve to make a sling for his arm. He now ripped off his right shirtsleeve and wrapped it around the smooth end of the wire to act as insulation. It would have been a great shame if he managed to open the door, allowing him escape, but fried himself in the process.

He knelt next to the opening, brushing aside his defunct commbadge that had lain there since the first day. Taking a deep breath he shoved the wire inside.

At first nothing happened. Vincent let loose another string of profanities, one of the many that he had uttered since day one. He began to move the wire blindly around the inside of the console. A hum started to sound, and Vincent thought that the door was opening, before the lights came on and blinded.

He had not seen light for over seventy-two hours and it felt as if his retina was burning. Covering his eyes, his hand gave an involuntary jerk and lights went out. Rubbing the rough hair growth on his chin, Vincent allowed his eyes to re-adjust to the darkness. It was while his eyes were recovering that he heard a constant hissing from above as water rained down on him. From bad to worse. He had set off the sprinklers.

He remembered a saying from a noted man on Earth, Murphy: "What can go wrong will go wrong." He then remembered what his grandfather had said about Murphy: "Murphy's an optimist." Slumping back against the door he could hear the faint thumping of boots against the deck and the alarm klaxon going off. His worst fears were confirmed. It had been rumored, he remembered from before his confinement, that they had set the self-destruct for the ship. Now it was set to go off. They were all abandoning ship.

Instead of the usual string of profanities, this time Vincent only said one word.

---