"We Have To Talk...."
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr and Ben's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 00h06

***

It seemed days since she last saw Ben, and despite the dour mood his absence had put her in, it was a favourable sign of progress. She missed him...and it felt good, except that it had kept her awake for the past two days, though it was likely compounded by the fear that without him, she'd dream of Oresh.

Lyrr closed her eyes briefly to focus away the thought, and opened them again to continue staring through the viewport. The stars sparkled as his eyes did when he laughed or smiled at her; the space between them of impenetrable blackness reminded her of his flowing raven hair and how wonderful it felt brushing against her cheek. She sighed as she wrapped her arms tightly around her pillow, imagining him in her embrace and she curled up against him with her head upon his chest. But it was nothing in comparison to his warmth, to the deep resonance of his voice as he spoke vibrating through to her very pagh. She groaned and rolled onto her back, cursing the slow progression of time. He'd be there soon, then there would be relief.

Her fingers idly brushed the bracelet still encircling her wrist, and it seemed to dull the restless anticipation that had afflicted her for hours. Then, she heard it. The door to her quarters hissed open, then quickly closed again. Lyrr sat upright in bed, a smile consuming her face. She dropped down to her bare feet and hurried out of the room, where she was greeted by the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. She stopped a distance away from him, returning his radiant smile and saying nothing.

Lyrr only chuckled and watched him, took him in and the perfect manner with which his full lips curled as he grinned, and the faint laugh lines that spread from the crease of his eyes the broader he smiled. She would go through the separation again if only to experience another moment like that.

Lyrr sighed and whispered, "Welcome back."

He paused as he stood just inside the door. Her smiling face and the way she'd hurried to greet him felt better than the extra pip on his collar. He just stood and looked at her in the regulation Starfleet sleepwear of tank top and shorts she wore. She was looking at him in a way he hadn't seen before: radiant, but his dread at seeing her tonight evaporated with the look in her eyes. It said more than anything that she loved him, even if she wasn't admitting it.

"Hey," he grinned. He reached behind him and loosed his hair from the ponytail he wore. He was lost for words for a moment, and he just drank in the sight of her. His heart was hammering in his chest. He had come to ask her the question, but his carefully rehearsed greeting fled his mind like smoke. He just smiled and his violet eyes shone with the strong emotion that welled in his chest at seeing her this way.

"Well..." She chuckled awkwardly and wrapped her arms around herself in the face of their uncomfortable silence. "So...how was your shift? It seemed very long to me." Lyrr smiled demurely at that. "I guess you caught me waiting up for you. Appears a little desperate doesn't it?"

He laughed and looked at his feet, shaking his head as he finally stepped toward her. He looked up again and his gaze met hers. He reached out and took her hand in his, feeling her fingers as they slid together and twined almost automatically. "You missed me?" he asked gently. His eyes grazed over her face, her long lashes and her lips, slightly parted. Her hair was tousled, but it just added to her beauty. He bent and kissed her, softly, his eyes closed even after he'd pulled away slightly. "I didn't know if you'd want me back," he whispered when he opened his eyes to regard her again.

She smiled incredulously. "Why wouldn't I? I did miss you, Ben." Grinning accusatorily while she pushed Ben's hair behind one ear, she teased, "Have you done something that would disincline me towards seeing you? Hm?"

He just looked at her, reached out and pulled her into his embrace and held her. "After what happened..." he started softly, speaking into her hair. She felt so good in his arms, he didn't want to let go. A little more than a day apart thinking over things and he was an emotional wreck. He was tired beyond belief as he hadn't slept for three shifts. He trembled slightly as he held her. He'd worked himself up to talk to her and he was finding it almost impossible now that she was in his arms and looking at him the way she was. "We need to talk," he said in a whisper.

She nodded slowly against his chest. "Okay... Is something wrong, Ben?" Lyrr gazed up at him, all humour replaced by concern. "What is it?"

He gazed into her eyes and caressed her soft cheek, slightly frowning. Had she dismissed everything they'd talked about? He gripped her hand a little tighter and led her to the living area sofa, sitting down and pulling her with him until they were seated together and comfortable. He didn't know how to start, and she wasn't making it easy. "About the other night...." He looked into her eyes and saw the hesitation there. "I've had some time to do a lot of thinking, and I hoped that you had done the same."

She sighed and looked down at their hands as she nodded. "I've thought a lot...and they're probably the same things you've been thinking about."

He held both her hands in his and his eyes rested on her bracelet. He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily before he began. "I need to say some things...and I just want you to listen." He looked back up into her dark eyes, his face serious. "Okay?"

Lyrr was filled with a moment of dread. His somber features didn't bode well for her. She smiled for him to continue, no matter what she was about to hear.

"You said some things to me the other night...things that hurt. I know that it was the circumstances, but I think I need to clarify a few things." He held her gaze, the strength returning to his determination as he spoke. His fingers rubbed against hers, keeping up a contact with her and his voice remained soft, gentle. "I gave you that bracelet because I love you; because I felt that it showed the proper respect for the way I think our relationship is going and because I wanted you to know that in every way, I want to be your friend, and more." His violet gaze held her dark eyes and he took a deep breath to steady himself. "I didn't give it to you so that you would feel obligated to do anything for it."

He saw the way she almost flinched when he said it.

"The other night was a mistake - and I take responsibility for it. I shouldn't have let it get that far. You were right in what you said about sleeping naked...and I won't do that with you again. We teased each other too much - and I think in light of what's happened and keeps happening that we decide on a limit and stick to it. I can't keep going the way we have been and I don't want to hurt you because I'm ignorant of how to do what has to be done for you."

He looked down at their hands and he brought hers up to kiss the knuckles. "I love you, and I need you to know that you can trust me. The things you shared with me, they were significant and you know how I feel about certain things." He looked into her eyes to make sure she understood what he said. "It doesn't matter what was done to you, or what you did back then. Nothing you could tell me would alter the way I feel about you now. I need you to understand that, Tayla. I know that the whole idea of seeing a counsellor is alien to you, but I really do think that it's the best thing you could do for yourself and for us.

"When I first entered the academy, I was as 'intense' as you." He looked away at the memories that came flooding back. "I had something to prove, a bitterness that wouldn't go away, and a loss that burned inside of me for my wife. I dreamed of her death for a long time. It consumed me. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face as her life left her. I hated Cardassians already but that made me hate them more. The academy counselors knew my background - they had to. For a time I nearly didn't make it through the first year. I had to get help. That was the first time.

"Five years ago Tebrianne died. She died in an explosion, a bomb was strapped to her chest while we were on an away mission on Tariss III. An Orion Syndicate bastard by the name of Marco killed her - but not before her raped her and brutalized her. Tebrianne was half Romulan, we had a strong mental bond. We used to mind meld you see...and I don't know why or how, but in the last moments of her life we shared that bond and I experienced everything that had been done to her." He looked up at Tayla with tears glistening in his eyes. "So you see, I've been there too. I know what it's like. I know how she felt - and I know that when she died the last thing we shared was only love...she said goodbye to me. There is nothing you could tell me that would alter how I feel about you - regardless of how much I hate Cardassians or the things they did.

"After Teb died I wanted to die. Literally I wanted to commit seppuku and follow her into the void. That's all I wanted and I almost did. I had a visitation that stopped me. But that didn't change the death wish I carried on with. Five years ago I spent two whole days secluded with a Betazoid Counselor on the Windsor. She helped me sort out my memories and managed to get me thinking straight again. She saved my life. I've had two encounters with Betazoid Counselors that helped me to carry on living - but also helped me to heal. I think you need that too.

"I asked you to see a counselor with me - and you asked for a day to think about it. You said that you chose me...and that means you also chose that course of action, but you've had the time you asked for to consider it. So I need to know that's what you intend to do." He held her gaze. "I'm not asking you to do it right away. I know that it's hard for you to even consider it - but I need to know that you will see one. I know you said you wanted me to help you - and I want to - but I don't know how to. You haven't given me a chance to really. How can I help you when I know that you either won't tell me everything or just won't be honest with me. I can't have a relationship based on lies. I can't cope with you lying to me. If you really want a relationship with me...then you have to be able to trust me.

"Please...trust me. I'll do what ever it takes to make us work - and that includes waiting for as long as it takes. Our relationship isn't based on sex, Tayla - it couldn't possibly be...so I want you to know that the decision is yours. Where we go to from here is up to you. I want you - as a friend and as a confidante, as a lover...and someday maybe more than that." He stopped talking. His mouth was dry and he was afraid of her response. It really was up to her. He looked at her and waited.

Any joy she'd felt upon seeing him was transformed to sorrow, but for T'Kal rather than herself. She squeezed his hand, and used her other to trap his between both of hers. It was clear where he was coming from now, and put his request into perspective. "I have been thinking," she said softly. "And...and I understand why you want this for me-- for us." Lyrr dropped her gaze to their clasped hands and decided now was the time to be open with Ben, especially considering the implication of his speech. It was an ultimatum, even if it was slightly veiled by endearments and sympathy-inspiring tales, and she knew the penalty for refusing his request meant life without him. But by agreeing, she would be going against her own wishes.

In the end, it came down to who was more important, and Rett's words immediately returned: Ben was a man whose only concern was satisfying his desires, as was the case with all males. Looking into his haunted eyes, though, and watching the tears collecting at their corners, Lyrr was hard-pressed to believe that about him, as much as she respected Rett's opinion.

Sighing wearily, Lyrr met T'Kal's gaze again, holding it steadily. "Ben," she whispered, "I'm confused. I'm confused, but what I do know is that I don't want counselling, not yet." Before she could feel his spirit crush, Lyrr added quickly, "I can't, Ben. I don't want a Betazoid roaming around in my mind, and without my cooperation, there wouldn't be progress, so what's the point? Talking to you the other night...it helped, Ben, it did. Over time, who's to say we can't get through this together, without outside help?" Fearing she would lose his focus, Lyrr pressed a hand to his cheek, and smiled tenderly. "We are working, Ben," she assured him. "And I want to continue this relationship with you." Lyrr smiled ruefully. "I think I'd be a lot upset if you didn't."

He nodded. Looking away he sighed. "Do you think it really is working? Do you think I'm helping?" he asked in a near whisper. "All I see is that I'm making it worse...but I can't...Prophets." He shook his head and lifted a hand to her cheek. "I don't want to lose you, Tayla. I don't think I could bear that. If you won't see a counselor...then you have to do something for me. You have to tell me everything. You have to be totally honest with me and let go of the past. If we have a relationship I want it based on honesty - not lies or untold truths that will come between us. I'll give it some time. But if you aren't willing to place your complete trust in me what hope of a future do we have?"

"I trust you," she affirmed unequivocally. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't. Why do you think I've been alone for so long, Ben? Aside from not knowing the first thing about making friends...I was afraid they'd find out." Lyrr smiled. "You did, even if it was an accident to begin with, but I didn't tell you what I did the other night by accident. It...it felt good telling someone." She sighed, sounding relieved. "I really needed it. Which means you can't give up on me, Ben. Who will I turn to you if you're gone?"

"So...do I have to move out? or am I still sharing quarters...?" It was an uncertain question but with a hint of a smile.

Lyrr narrowed her eyes playfully and nudged his arm with her shoulder. "You're trapped now, Benedict T'Kal. I hope you're fine with that."

He laughed softly. Yes, he was, he reflected. He looked up into her eyes and leaned forward. He kissed her gently, holding her hands between them, and drew her against him. He leaned back and pulled her into his arms; she felt warm against his chest. "Then I'd better move everything and let Operations know that my quarters are vacated."

Lyrr smiled and slid her arms around his waist as she nestled against him. "I can help...unless you're too proud to accept aid from a woman."

He smiled. "I'm not the proud one," he teased. "Yes - I think you could help." He rubbed her back gently. "I could sleep for a week," he chuckled. "I haven't eaten in two days. I had a word to the captain...about a few things," he hedged. "You didn't tell me you enjoyed hockey games!" he chided.

"I've only attended a couple!" she laughed. "But I don't anymore, so no need to get jealous." Lyrr grinned and glanced up at him. "Are you saying you want to watch hockey with me?"

"I'm not jealous in the slightest, Love," he laughed, and he teased her hair between his fingers. "In fact he told me he misses your friendship, and I think that's important between you...and yes, I'd love to watch hockey with you, but we could also invite the captain. Is there a reason you've been staying away from him? Besides your loathing of Xayella?"

Lyrr sighed and shrugged. Her uneasiness regarding the topic was exhibited by her idle picking at the zipper of T'Kal's jacket. "I don't really know," she answered quietly. "It's just...after Risa and many things before it... We were at odds about Lieutenant Tagliesh, then he jumped into a relationship with her and said not a word to me. It was a clear conflict of interest and he said nothing. So...I guess I'm feeling a little betrayed."

"Oh." He paused for a moment. "Seems like we did the same thing, Love...but, you weren't interested in Matt Salinger were you? I mean...you know what I mean." He frowned. Could she have been thinking about Matt Salinger and been jealous of Tagliesh?

"I wasn't interested that way about anyone," Lyrr replied with a chiding smile. "Not until I met you." She went silent, then, and all fidgeting ceased as her mind went back to the start of their evening. "Ben?" she whispered after a time. "Tonight...you didn't plan on things ending this way, did you?" Her head tilted back and she watched his eyes. "You gave me an ultimatum.... What were the consequences supposed to be for making the wrong choice?"

"You haven't made a wrong choice yet," he replied seriously. "It's been six weeks, Love, and I realized that I was trying to push you into a solution to a fifteen year old problem. That was unrealistic. It just seems like we've been together for ever." He brushed a hand through her hair, it was silky soft and shone in the light with coppery highlights. "I want it to work - and I want you to trust me. But trust develops - over time. You will see a counselor, but not yet. There will be a time when you can, and I'll just have to help you the best way I can until then. As long as you tell me everything. You can't hide...not when I'm living with you. I'm sorry to have said what I said - an ultimatum was stupid at this point. I haven't given you enough time. You deserve that. I guess I was a little overwrought and emotional." He gazed into her eyes and smiled. "I just couldn't break it off with you anyway."

"Because you're just as stubborn a Bajoran as any?" she offered, grinning. Lyrr reached up to caress his lips with hers, and whispered, "Or because you love me too much...and I may be close to loving you back?"

He pulled her a little closer, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and kissing her back. Softly brushing his lips against hers lovingly and gazing into her eyes he whispered, "What do you think?" He kissed her lips, and then her brow, her eyelids with soft tender caresses of his lips. "I don't think I could ever love you...too much."

She chuckled, though the blush to her cheeks was evident. "Okay...I'm guessing stubborn, then." Lyrr delicately stroked her fingers back and forth over T'Kal's chest, and closed her eyes under the lulling affection of T'Kal's caresses. "No more late shifts for you," she murmured. "From now on, I expect you home at a decent hour." Her soft smile was still in place.

"Yes, dear." He chuckled. "And I'd like my dinner on the table when I get home too."

Lyrr scoffed and swatted his chest. "Then you'd better find another woman, Mr. T'Kal, because I'm a headstrong Bajoran female, remember?" Shifting her gaze upwards, she laughed softly and patted his thigh. "Come on." After rising from the couch, she extended a hand to him. "We'll have a snack and eat it in bed." Feigning perplexity, she asked, "You are still sharing a bed with me, right?"

"I'm sure as hell not sleeping on your sofa!" he laughed as he grabbed her hand and allowed her to pull him up. "I have to replicate something to wear," he said. "I need a shower too. I'll be a few minutes if you want to replicate some tea." He kissed her quickly and walked in to the refresher.

Lyrr narrowed her eyes at the empty space T'Kal had once occupied, marvelling at how he could so easily excuse himself and leave her with no choice but to carry out her supposed matronly duties. "Typical," she muttered, then chuckled to herself and headed for the replicator.

As she stood there, ordering two bread puddings and teas, Lyrr decided she could get used to domesticated life, but she could only picture herself doing so with Ben. It was frightening and exhilarating at once. She was letting him in closer than any had ever gotten, and she didn't want him anywhere else.

"This is going to work," she mused. "For once, my life's going to work." And in that moment, Lyrr truly believed it.

---

"The Bounty Protocol"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Cadet D'alla Cox; Cadet in Training
and Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case; Weapons Specialist

Location: USS Sulu, Armory
Stardate 57908.18 00h20

***

Farrell appreciatively watched PO Sullivan's Irish hips wag all the way down the corridor. It was a confident walk, and one worth watching. He smiled, and shook his head before walking through the door she'd exited.

He was greeted by a new and equally fantastic backside, thrust into the air as its kneeling owner had her head and shoulders tucked inside the replicator access panel.

"Chief Case, you've been working out," Farrell said sardonically to the rump.

Cadet Cox quickly backed out of the access and spun twin emeralds at Ensign Farrell. There was angry green fire in her eyes for the smallest fraction of a second before they softened into something more fitting her Orion features. However, she still didn't manage a smile.

"Sir," she said formally, getting to her feet. "Can I help you?" There was a single dark smudge on a lovely green cheek.

Farrell held up his hands. "Just looking for the Chief."

"He went to check the launch system for torpedo two," Cox informed him, looking beyond Farrell to the door. "He was here at 2400 hours, sir."

"I'll have to apologize to him," Farrell said. "You've got a little something on your face. Here," he added, touching his own cheek to show her the spot.

The Orion cadet got an embarrassed look and touched the corresponding spot just as Case came through the double doors, not even slowing down to let them open fully. He went right to one of the weapons consoles and studied it intently as if Cox and Farrell weren't even there.

"What's the word, Chief?" Farrell ventured. "Sorry I'm--"

"Cadet, could we have this space for a moment?" Case asked, sounding deadly serious and not looking up. "I'll com you when we're finished."

"Aye, Chief." Cox said, shooting Farrell a look somewhere between disdain and curiosity as she walked to the door. Case and Farrell were soon left alone.

"You've sure dressed the place up," Farrell smiled, jerking a thumb at the door through which Cox, and earlier Sullivan, had exited the Armory. "What did you need?"

"I'm out of the loop on some of the troubles we're having," Case admitted, punching the keypad a few times before looking up. "They trust me with the weapons systems but I'm not hearing a lot about potential solutions. Does Ops have any idea exactly what this is doing to the Sulu? Do you know how it's jumping from system to system?"

"Good question," Farrell answered. "The systems that are better protected aren't being disturbed directly. Everything else is fair game. At this point, we're treating the outward glitches. We haven't progressed to the underlying errors yet."

"And Commander Sam? How is he?"

Farrell arched an eyebrow. "Fine, I suppose. He's watching the life support. Why?"

Case smiled, somewhat humorlessly. "I forget how young you are, sir."

Farrell gave Case a wry look. "What are you trying to say, Chief?"

"When I joined Starfleet," Case began, settling in for what looked to be a long explanation. "There was another Soong-type android that had long been a worry to more than a few people."

"Data," Farrell nodded.

"Aye, sir," Case confirmed. He shook his head. "There was still a real sense of fear even though he'd been commissioned for over a decade. Some people thought we might get replaced by a literal force of Datas. It sounds ridiculous now but it was pure fear, especially in Security. Data was stronger than us, quicker than us, more accurate with a phaser."

"It's still a fear."

Case nodded. "When I found out that Commander Sam was aboard this ship, I began to form a kind of 'Android Contingency' plan in my head. Data ran amok more than a few times on the Enterprise. The presence of an android aboard this ship has concerned me greatly. From Day One."

"I've got to say, I agree," Farrell nodded, his voice low. He put his hands behind his back and got thoughtful. "But to date, Sam's showed no signs of error. Not mechanical error, anyway."

"He is a machine, sir," Case said, with no distaste. If anything, he actually sounded concerned. "I know at this point it doesn't seem to be a problem but what if these...system glitches...find some way to upload into Commander Sam? It's not the most insane thought, considering what we know about androids."

Farrell was silent for a moment. Damn. Case was right. Sam could be susceptible to tampering. Which meant a whole new hand was being dealt. "Have you mentioned this to anyone else?" he asked, concerned.

"No, sir," Case said, shaking his head. "I'm still working out the internal politics aboard this ship and I'm not quite ready to run around openly suggesting that her Second Officer is a security risk. I can't go to Commander T'Kal with something like that with less than two weeks in aboard...not without a solid something to be concerned about."

"What would you suggest, if you felt able?"

Case looked thoughtful. "If I had pips on my collar instead of a patch, I'd present the concern directly to Commander Sam. He's a rational being and I don't see how he can ignore the risk. Maybe he'd be willing to take one for the team and give us some options for a shut down in the event he becomes compromised." He narrowed his eye at Farrell. "What do you think, Ensign? Would Commander Sam see that point of view?"

"Good question." Farrell looked at nothing, thinking. "I'm not on Sam's good side; I doubt I could directly approach him with something like this. In fact, I'm a bit of a persona non grata among most of the senior staff. I'm young and foolish," he added, giving Case a flat smile. "Are you suggesting I try and take this to Sam, or put it in play some other way?"

"I've done a little cloak and dagger in my career, sir," Case admitted. "But I don't particularly want to do an end run around the Second Officer, so going over his head is out. Maybe if we could get at least one department head on board..." Case frowned thoughtfully, compiling the list in his head. "What about Lieutenant Thaine?"

Farrell nodded. "Thaine's got a clear head. I don't think he'd be averse to the concept. It's possible. Without T'Kal or the command staff that leaves the other departments. Tagliesh? Scott? Sefton? They may actually carry more weight on concepts like this than T'Kal or Lyrr anyway."

"Commander T'Kal will have to be brought in before this gets too far," Case insisted. "It's a security concern at the heart of the matter and he'll resent not having the opportunity to address it." Case looked at Farrell carefully. "How's your relationship with Lieutenant Tagliesh? If we get both Science and Engineering to see things our way, it'd mean a lot when it comes to Commander T'Kal. There is nothing that concerns him more than the safety of this ship and her crew."

Farrell quirked a smile. "I think I can approach her with this. We should get Thaine and Tagliesh at least on board before we take it to anyone else."

Case was still looking at Farrell. "Are you up for it, sir? I would make the approach but I don't know Lieutenant Thaine at all...and Lieutenant Tagliesh..." Case trailed off, shaking his head. He had not enjoyed Xayella's antics on the planet's surface.

"You just have to understand your audience, Chief," Farrell said. "I ought to be able to broach this to her sometime tomorrow."

"And with Lieutenant Thaine? Would he be more inclined to listen if it comes from you?"

"Maybe. I'm not incredibly familiar with Thaine, though on the plus side that means he's not incredibly familiar with me," Farrell smiled ruefully. "I can give it a shot. You want me to put out these feelers and then arrange a meet with T'Kal through you if it pans out?"

"Exactly what I was thinking, sir," Case said, smiling grimly. "I wish I could say I'm looking forward to it."

Farrell shared the grim look. This was going to get sticky.

---

"Plak Tow, Part One"
By: Lt. Saavar - Science Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Saavar's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 00h20

***

Shirik arrived at Saavar's door for her scheduled meditation lesson, but meditation wasn't on her mind this night. She decided to wear casual clothing this time rather than her uniform, wearing a sweater and slacks, both black. She raised her hand to the activate the chime.

Saavar was meditating. The chime disturbed him at precisely the time that his scheduled meeting with Ensign Lektar was due to begin.

He nodded to himself as if that was as it should be and said, "Come." The computer obediently interpreted the command and his door slid open to reveal Lektar. She was casually dressed, which was the first time Saavar had seen her in such a way.

Dressed in black she looked devoid of color of any kind except for the vivid violet of her eyes. She was a black and white silhouette in the dim light cast by Saavar's single candle flame that sat in the center of his low table.

He waved a hand to her and smiled. "Welcome. You are precisely on time."

Shirik bowed slightly in greeting and entered the room, enveloped in the darkness as the doors closed behind her. She felt safe in the dark, as her infrared sight took hold, and there was only the candle and Saavar in warm red. She moved to take her usual seat at the table. "Good evening, Saavar," she said quietly.

"Yes," he said softly. "It is." He regarded her across the table. Being Drokari her vision was far more comfortable with the illumination of a single flame. She was an expected guest, and Saavar had taken the care to set the environment to suit her preference.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked. His Federation Standard was clipped and perfect with absolutely no inflection.

"Yes, thank you," she said softly, folding her hands in her lap.

He nodded and in a few moments returned from the replicator with a tray containing a pot and two cups. The small jar of Vulcan tea sat in the middle of the tray - non-replicated.

As he made the tea with methodical movements he remained silent. He handed her a cup with two hands in ritual fashion and took the other for himself. A shared look between his grey eyes and her violet over the rims of mugs and both drank. The tea was refreshing.

A few minutes of total silence as they shared tea went by. The silence was calming.

"Are you adequately prepared to begin?" Saavar asked.

Shirik sipped her tea, letting the atmosphere calm her. She shook her head. "No." She paused a moment, then said, "I actually came to talk this evening rather than study," she said. "If that's all right..."

"Of course," Saavar nodded. "If one's mind is not clear, one cannot focus on the required tasks. You have something you wish to discuss?"

"I wanted to ask you a personal question," she said. She wasn't as hesitant as she might have been. After all, they'd shared secrets about one another, touched each other's minds lightly. In some ways she was closer to Saavar than Ben, who she considered a good friend now.

Saavar nodded. "Ask," was all he needed to say.

Despite the fact that he was married, she knew enough about arranged marriages that she still had to ask. "Have you ever been in love?" she asked quietly.

"No," he replied quickly enough that she knew that he didn't need to consider his answer.

She looked to her tea with a small frown. That wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for. "Never?"

"Never," he said softly. "I have been betrothed since I was aged five. I was wed at aged twenty-one when the Ponn Farr brought T'Sirra and I together. We have a satisfactory relationship for Vulcans.

"We do not love in the context in which you refer."

Shirik considered his answer and took another sip of her tea. "Is that because you can't...or because you don't allow yourselves to?" she asked curiously.

Saavar considered that. "Vulcans are bonded at a very early age. Our marriages are arranged by our parents to find both a social and psychological match. We do not fall in love. We grow into a similar bonding function.

"That is the true meaning of love in a humanoid perspective. It is the means by which we are bonded together in order to procreate.

"There are many psychological, chemical and subconscious triggers that draw individuals together. The emotional feeling of love is a simple expression of those triggers."

"You went to school...the academy...served in the fleet. In all those years, those triggers never drew you to anyone?" she asked. She was beginning to think he wasn't the one to talk to of such things, after all. But who else did she have?

Saavar nodded. "Of course," he said. "On three occasions I was drawn to a compatible female. However, Vulcan s'at training allows us to set aside any emotionalism that may be attached to such attractions.

"Without emotion, it is simply a chemical attraction and has no bearing on our actions.

"It is those beings controlled by their emotions who suffer the effects of attraction and the resulting emotional traumas. One may be drawn to another individual by chemical attraction, a consummation based upon that simple chemical interaction may be satisfactory in the short term, but once psychological factors enter the equation the attraction quickly fades.

"One has to determine the long term attractive properties of the relationship. Physical, psychological and social implications.

"Vulcans are wise. We know that setting our parameters for relationships in the long term will be more beneficial."

"I see," she said. She frowned slightly in thought as she finished the tea. "On my world, often marriages are arranged, too. Especially among the nobility.... My mother will no doubt arrange mine before too long..."

She wondered if he ever had any regrets about those three women he passed up for his arranged partner. But she didn't ask, because she knew his answer would be no, anyway.

"You are not pleased by the prospect," he said. "My marriage is satisfactory by Vulcan standards. There is no emotional context upon which it rests. It is a simple fact of Vulcan biology and psychology and a means to raise progeny.

"You have an emotional context, therefore it is not wise to arrange such relationships without exposure to the individual candidates for selection.

"You ask these questions for a reason?" he inquired.

"All sentient beings have an emotional context," she said quietly. "Some can choose to ignore it, or suppress it, that's all. Perhaps I'm not as wise as a Vulcan, but to me...it just seems like something would be missing, without that connection, ever in life..." She set down her cup and pondered whether there was any more use in the conversation. She really had no one else to talk to, about these sorts of things.

Saavar nodded. "It is true. You know of the Pon Farr," he said softly. "It is a psychological and biological imperative that releases all our pent up emotions.

"Every seven years," he regarded her violet eyes, "we are drawn to mate. Always with our bonded partner. You know my dilemma. I am faced with the prospect of mating with a female that I know is completely incompatible with my every desire.

"I do not wish to do so. Further than that - I refuse to do so." He looked at her significantly. "I do not recognise any attraction with her. There is no connection.

"It is an emotional reaction, I know."

"Having met her, I can completely understand your refusal," she smiled a bit. "I've been doing some research, I've not given up trying to find another solution."

Shirik paused for a moment, gesturing at the tea pot for a refill. "Forgive me for saying, but...you seem...different, from the first time I came here."

He nodded. "You are observant," he replied as he poured more tea. "I have reestablished my s'at training. I no longer recognize my emotions, nor give them outlet. The emotional connection with Lieutenant Tagliesh was disrupting me greatly. I have taken steps to reduce that disruption.

"I do understand your question. You seek to know what love is. It is all of the things I have described. Do you feel a physical attraction to a member of the Sulu's crew?"

Shirik nodded, understanding why he needed to do so. But remembering how he smiled before, she found she missed it. She wondered what it would be like to be able to simply disconnect one's emotions like that at will.

"What you gave me was a clinical description," she said. "Which I can understand..." she trailed off, not answering until she'd had another sip of tea. "Yes," she said simply.

"Then you feel an attraction," he said. "You wish to determine if it is a precursor of love?"

"No..." she said with a frown, her gaze on her teacup. Her defenses were going back up, reflexively. It didn't matter anyway, she thought. Whatever it was she felt, it could never be love. Ever. There were too many reasons for it not to be. She wouldn't allow it.

"You are an emotional being," Saavar told her. "It is important to feel emotionally connected to a mate. If you have a physical attraction and a chemical attraction, then you owe it to yourself to discover if you are also psychologically and socially compatible. If all of those elements are present, then it is quite possible that you will find yourself feeling what it is to be in love."

She frowned deeper. "No. It's only physical," she said, but was she trying to convince him, or herself? "It's true, we're compatible in many ways, but that doesn't matter. Love is something that can never be between us, even if I wanted it." She took another swallow of the tea. "I'm sure it's just physical... Probably like you said earlier, pent-up...energies..."

"Love always begins as a physical manifestation of a chemical compatibility. If you are compatible in many ways it certainly does matter," he said. "Love for an emotional species is not something one chooses. Often it is discovered. Why do you feel that you are incapable of it?"

"I'm not incapable of it." she said. "But it can't happen. Not with him. And it won't." She finished her tea and set the cup down, her expression dark. "I just need some..." She stopped. She felt the urge to get up and flee the room, escape his questions, and his answers. But she didn't move.

"Your privacy will always be ensured," Saavar said gently. "I have shared intensely personal matters with you, for I too felt the need to unburden myself in the effort to seek answers to internal questions. Perhaps I may assist you in the same way."

"I know that," she said quietly, letting out a breath and recomposing herself. "I'd like your assistance.... I know I can trust you."

"Then speak freely," he replied.

She released her teacup with one hand, and reached across the table, laying her hand down on it palm up, a silent invitation. Her eyes found his.

He nodded once and complied. Reaching out his own he clasped her hand. Her palm was hot as their hands joined with their minds. The merging was only surface level, ensuring privacy of thought but ease of communication.

Speak, he intoned with his mind. It was different to her senses now, more focused, crystal clear and diamond hard. A true Vulcan intellect.

She held nothing back. She was confused, concerned, afraid, and uncertain. Even this contact with Saavar was different than before, and she missed the old him even as she understood why he had to change. She closed her eyes, trying to find coherent words to unburden herself.

T'Kal, she said at last, bringing his image to mind. It came so easily. His face, framed by dark silky hair, a friendly smile on his lips, his violet eyes so like her own.

He has an established relationship that is the crux of your dilemma? Saavar considered her emotions that roiled at the image. She was able to bring his image to mind with perfect clarity, and behind it was the attraction that T'Kal himself had admitted to feeling. You share your attraction, he thought at her.

No...that's part of it, but only part. She smiled faintly. Just thinking about him brought all kinds of feelings to her, some familiar, some brand new. She remembered the black suit enfolding his body, the muscles rippling beneath its sleek surface, and her desire flared up inside her like a lit flame. The fact that Ben shared that desire only made it harder to ignore.

It will be difficult, Saavar said in her mind. How have you chosen to cope with your mutual attraction?

By ignoring it, mostly... She knew how fruitless that sounded, but it was the only option they had. She remembered the times they'd spent together so far, how sparks seemed to electrify the air around them, and how they both pretended there was nothing. We're friends, she said. And that's all we'll ever be.

Saavar nodded at that. ~Perhaps in the long view that would be more beneficial. To be friends requires a deepening of the levels of trust, a formation of intellectual discernment based upon observation. If your attraction continues....

He smiled at her. T'Kal is involved with Lyrr. The Vulcan looked her in the eyes. Their relationship has flourished in an extremely short period of time. Both are Bajoran and so they are culturally compatible. They obviously share a physical attraction, but in my view they have not spent sufficient time to discover their long term compatibility.

He shrugged in his mind. Lyrr Tayla saved his life as he saved hers. It was after this significant event that they formed a relationship. It is a common enough phenomenon that rarely lasts.

Her eyes studied his. What is between he and Lyrr Tayla is not my business, she said. All I need know is that he loves her, and he is exclusive with her. His smile made her relax. I like him, I consider him my friend, nothing more. Physical attraction happens all the time.

Your attraction is not purely physical, he thought. You cannot evade your feelings by imagining that they do not exist.

She paused, gathering her thoughts, pushing away the images of their morning skinny dip that came unbidden to mind. She knew Saavar would see them, but it didn't matter. She wasn't ashamed of it. Your people, Vulcans...they can go through life ignoring emotional connections and turning away attractions in part because their physical needs only come into play once every seven years, she said. The rest of us don't have that advantage...

My people can and do have physical contact all the time, whenever they desire it, and no emotional connection is necessary. We don't go for years without those needs being fulfilled, usually... But I... She couldn't say any more, but the thoughts were there. She'd not had those needs filled herself since she left Drokar, eleven years ago, longer than a Vulcan's mating cycle.

That is not healthy, he thought. To deny those needs is irrational.

She eyed him wordlessly. Wasn't that what he was trying to do?

No, he replied. I am being forced into a situation not of my choosing. There is a difference.

You deny yourself, but give it time, he thought. Your relationship, if it is meant to be will develop of its own accord. You can afford the time to be sure of the feelings that you are experiencing.

She saw little difference. This situation certainly wasn't by her choice either. But it had been easy to ignore her needs before, in fact she hadn't had any needs, hadn't found anyone attractive to even think about it. Until recently. Her eyes left his to settle on their joined hands. You don't understand. Even if there was no Lyrr Tayla, even if we both fell in love, it can't be. We are not socially compatible. I'm a Princess of Drokar, my mate cannot be a half-breed offworlder. The words sounded harsh, even to her, but she knew it was exactly what she'd hear from her mother, the Queen.

You are a Starfleet Officer, Saavar thought. You have Federation Citizenship - it is automatically conferred upon taking the Starfleet Oath of Allegiance. You are not a Drokari Princess here. You make your choices. If you choose to remain in the Federation, there is nothing that your world can do to take you.

I have responsibilities to my people, and my family, she said. Regardless of the legal technicalities. She wasn't going to get into that quagmire, but she had no doubt should her world want her, there would be nowhere for her to hide from them. Her eyes met his once more. I would almost think you were trying to encourage me to pursue him, she said.

There is balance in every argument, he thought. You are convincing yourself that there are no possibilities, and I offer the counter-argument. You may then make an informed choice.

You renounced your responsibilities when you took the Oath of Allegiance, he reminded her. In the Federation, you are free to make choices. That is a promise of citizenship that is backed by the might of Starfleet. Your homeworld is not a member of the Federation. Your acceptance into the ranks of Starfleet was dependant upon the renunciation of your previous ties. With all you have learned, it is highly unlikely that you would be permitted to return.

She stared at him, not believing what he was telling her. Was she now a prisoner of the Federation? "Not permitted to return?" she said aloud, fear and anger in her tone. "They would force me to stay away from my own home?" Her grip tightened on his hand.

I remind you that you renounced your home in coming to the Federation. It would have been expressly made clear to your Queen. I believe that on previous occasions you have indicated that you are expendable. Your Starfleet acceptance from a non-member world is highly irregular. It would have necessitated some concessions from your world. Renunciation of your ties to the throne would have been a minimum requirement.

Shirik said nothing, but an emptiness settled into her. Did her mother truly agree to such a thing? Was she exiled from her world? She closed her eyes. She'd never felt so alone in all her life as at this moment.

You truly are not alone, he thought at her. Saavar's compassion for her was strong. She was alone and cut off in the same way as Saavar was. His mind opened to her, an invitation only and an offer to seek comfort. It was an empathic reaction to the Drokari woman that he had come to know rather intimately.

She took the invitation, needing the comfort he offered, needing something or someone to cling to at this moment.

His hand reached up to touch her face. The mind merge graduated smoothly into a meshing of their mentalities, and Saavar's crystal clarity gave her strength.

You are not alone, they both thought. He understood her and she finally understood him.

Shirik leaned into his touch on her face, and slowly opened her eyes. They were liquid pools of deep purple, sparkling with unshed tears. But she felt a calm wash through her, the comfort of his presence. Her gratitude for his gesture washed over him.

I gain as much as you, they both thought. His anguish at his separation and bonding with a woman he detested was evident. He didn't know a way out.

He dreamed of her every night and she tormented him. The training of s'at helped, but it was not enough.

He was trapped, just as she was. She wasn't sure which situation was worse, but at least they could both find some small comfort in this. She raised her free hand, resting it lightly against his at her cheek, and she felt his torment, his raging, unspent urges and frustration, and in some ways it mirrored her own. They both needed a release. She wondered if that would help either of them.

He understood what she was offering, and he accepted it for what it was. An unemotional joining that held a necessity for both of them. He pushed the meld deeper driven by his own fears of what consequences would beset him. He had to break the meld with Xayella. He had no choice.

---

"Fever"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Matt's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.18, 00h45

***

He was in her dreams again, but this time every touch made her body temperature rise, instead of quelling the fire coursing through her blood. Sweat had soaked through her nightgown, and the bedsheets had been hastily kicked off, but her flesh still burned almost painfully, matching in intensity the rising ache centred between her legs.

She writhed against his caresses, green tinted flesh contrasting with the blushing red hue of her own as his hands explored her curves and supple contours of her chest, hips.... Every inch of her body was receptive to his touch, and just when they had managed to bring her to the brink, they desisted and he disappeared. She was left unfulfilled, with a knotting pain in the pit of her belly and a fever that threatened to consume her flesh until nothing remained.

A thick cry of agony broke from her lips as she was thrown upright in bed. Her breathing came in rasps and shaking hands clawed at the silken gown, leaving behind welts in the fabric as she scrabbled to remove it, but not even that would provide an outlet for the heat to escape. Her damp hair was matted to her brow and cheeks, and irritated her nape as sweat wound a trail down her spine. The sleeping figure beside her remained undisturbed by the bed's jostle and her tortured groans. The fever was escalating and she needed release before it boiled her blood; her arousal had transformed to pain, and the two had become inseparable from one another, but the delirium prohibited her from seeking the one cure to allay both, offered by the dormant body next to hers. Instead, she rolled out of bed and allowed her scientific instinct to lead her towards relief from the fever.

Her arms were wound tightly around her waist in an attempt to contain the twisting ache localized there, but it seemed to be spreading in any case, radiating outwards to her chest and legs - anywhere her blood flowed. With a wail, she collapsed in the living area - the refresher, and the cold water that would draw out her fever still so far out of reach. Gnarled, trembling hands dug into the thick carpet, using the weak grip to leverage herself forward at a torturously creeping pace. Flat on her stomach, and intermittently curling in on herself from the spikes of pain, she dragged herself to the refresher.

The cold floor tiles against her febrile skin provided momentary relief, but her own heat seemed to transfer to the molecules composing the substance and robbed them of the cooling comfort they had offered. Amongst the dull, sustained screak of her hands sliding against the smooth tiles that offered little traction, her strangled voice called out to the computer in one final act of desperation. Her plea was answered, and in a single burst the shower was filled with a spray of frigid water. Its steady hiss, and the patter of the high- velocity stream impacting with the shower wall summoned her and with renewed strength she snaked her debilitated body towards salvation.

As one hand reached out to grip the raised step leading up into the stall, a devastating spasm of pain seized her and she cried out with it. Muscles tensed and curled her body in towards itself, yet her hand remained outstretched to the water raining down so near to her, but still untouchable. She gritted her teeth as she fought back the assault delivered by every nerve ending to every micrometer of her body; splayed fingers stretched painfully towards even the smallest droplet of water that might reach her, but with a final guttural scream, her body arched against the floor, then went still.

Her arm hung in the air for a moment after she collapsed in a futile last effort to find surcease, but as her mind fell into unconsciousness, it dropped limply over the shower's step. The pooling water on the shower floor expanded outward as the stream rained down steadily, but her fingers remained still just out of reach.

***

He pulled her into his arms, quickly checking for a pulse. "Xay," he called frantically. "Xayella, come back to me." He pulled them both into the shower, under the water, as her skin seemed to burn his hands and arms as he held her. When the water cascaded over their bodies, he could feel her cooling ever so slightly. "Xayella, come back to me."

Her head lolled against his shoulder, then lifelessly fell back. The water splattered onto her face, drawing attention to the irregular pink blotches covering her cheeks as they burned from the inside out. She made no sound, but her eyes moved beneath her closed lids, showing some sign of awareness. One arm was crushed against Matt's chest as he held her, and the other dangled beside her, swaying as the water buffeted it.

"Salinger to Sickbay," Matt called out. "Medical emergency."

The sound of his voice echoed through the small room, as if the call had been routed back to him, creating an echo.

"Salinger to Bridge."

"Communications systems offline," the computer said, then produced a rather unpleasant noise that Matt wasn't aware the computer could even make.

"Dammit. Xay, come back to me, love. Come back. You made a promise, remember? Come back...please."

The frigid water rained down on them, creating the only sound audible aside from Matt's silent pleas. Xayella's skin was still warm to the touch, but her face grew clammy as the water dowsed the heat still smouldering within. Her body trembled in his arms, then seized as she emitted a strangled groan. One hand clutched at his nightshirt weakly and her eyelids flickered with the struggle to open; Saavar's hold on her was weakening as another bond formed, but the fever refused to be tamed so quickly. "Matt," she breathed heavy-tongued and lips barely parting.

"I'm here," he rasped. "I'm here, Xay. I'm here..."

"Hot," she murmured, and her eyes squinted up at him. "It...hurts."

"What's happening, Xay?" he asked softly as he kissed her forehead. "What's...it's...it's him, isn't it? There's something going on with him?"

She nodded sluggishly. "I think--" Groaning, she managed, "Blood Fever."

Matt's eyes narrowed as he gazed down at her, the anger he felt toward the irresponsible Vulcan who put Xayella in this mess boiling his own blood. "We'll get through this," he whispered, then kissed her again. "We'll make it, Xay."

"It'll stop," she muttered weakly and her lips stretched into a shaky smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should've...told you before."

"Yes," he whispered, "you should have. It...it hurts to see you like this, and to know that if you hadn't kept it from me...that we could have done something. To prevent it. I love you, Xayella, but...but if you can't trust me, can't include me...we have problems."

She chuckled hoarsely, thinking she had far bigger problems at the moment, even though the pain was lessening. "I promise," she whispered, "this is the last time." Grunting with the effort, Xayella raised her sopping hand to Matt's cheek and caressed it briefly before her arm dropped away again. "I love you," she murmured. "Just...just stay with me until it passes...."

"I'm not planning on going anywhere, Xay," Matt said. "I'm here for the duration." He kissed her brow and pulled her closer to him.

Their clothes were soaked through, and both shivered from the icy cold water still spraying them, but they remained on the shower floor, Xayella sitting across Matt's lap and cradled in his arms, while she clutched his shirt in weak fingers. Little by the little, the knot in her stomach began unravelling, and the fog in her mind dissipated. Instead of the scorching fire she couldn't smother, all that remained was a need to satiate the desire unmasked by the diminishing pain. Xayella nuzzled her lips to Matt's throat, knowing then there was only one true way to cure the Blood Fever. "Matt," she whispered, and gazed up into his eyes. "Will you-- Make love to me? I-I need you..."

"Yes," Matt whispered as he opened his throat to her while his hands moved to caress her body. "Yes, my love."

Her motions were slow and gentle, the fever having sapped the strength from her once vigorous body. She leaned into Matt as he raised her upright in his lap; her folded legs straddled his and her arms clung to his neck for support as Matt freed himself from his sleeping shorts. Once he did, he held Xayella around her waist and tenderly entered her. The effect was instantaneous and startling. She gasped and her eyes flew open at the rush of pleasure already filling her, even though they had yet to begin. Her sensations were heightened and the ache that had once driven her to near death now transformed to arousal. As trivial as it seemed, her life depended on this, and her suddenly desperate, frantic motions against Matt conveyed that. With a heavy moan into his ear, Xayella cooed, "I love you."

"Welcome back," he whispered, then moved his lips to her throat. Whatever else he said after that was lost in the pleasure of the moment, the rejoining and cleansing of the fire brought on by the bond forged through Saavar's mind meld. As they made love with a passion that had moments before seemed impossible, they cleansed Saavar's presence from Xayella's mind and reaffirmed the love they shared, a bond that no Vulcan mistake could ever sever.

---

"Plak Tow, Part Two"
By: Lt. Saavar - Science Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Saavar's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 01h10

***

The mental bridge was reciprocated. With Tagliesh, she had fought it and he had brought all his strength to bear to gain the success he needed.

This melding held no such barrier. They came together like two crashing waves that rushed toward each other and meshed.

The flood of pure emotion from Shirik washed away his barriers. The release of inner emotion from Saavar was a dam burst.

His skin ignited like molten fire as the Blood Fever boiled up from deep within. He cried out with its torment and heaved a breath of pure fire that raged unchecked through his body. The mental bridge scintillated with it.

Blood fever raged through them both, the mind meld became incoherent.

She gasped, her eyes widening. She hadn't been prepared, but how could anyone be who had not faced the Plak Tow before?

Some instinctive part of her rebelled, afraid, the stories of Drokari mind sifters and their terrible powers coming to mind, but no more than a flash before it was gone.

Suddenly the room around them was gone, and she was on fire, body and mind. Both her hands tightened their grip where they touched him, and her mind was awhirl as it tried to process what was happening. But there was no processing this flame, this pure raw hunger that demanded sating.

Somewhere deep inside her, some ancient part of her heard the call of the fire, and answered it. Her blood pounded in her ears like Drevaki war drums in the desert, and her eyes were fixed on him, staring, their violet color darkened to a purple so dark it was almost black.

He let out a breath that was burning his lungs. His whole body sang with the raw intensity of the Vulcan fever.

The contact with her mind was a boiling bridge that drew them together. Saavar opened his eyes to gaze upon her and allowed his fingers to relax on her face, to fully touch her skin with his palm and feel the pounding of both their hearts as the passion and desire escalated.

It was no gentle thing. The Blood Fever is a passion that burns brightest without tenderness. He knew his dreams and was tempered by them. He did not wish to surrender to an animal lust. He might have done so if it had been with Tagliesh - to punish her and take her. Shirik had entered this willingly and he tempered his response accordingly with the greatest of effort.

He needed to retain a vestige of control, but allow the fever to burn itself out.

He stood, as graceful as a predator and as strong and invincible as the fever made him. He drew her with him, lifting her bodily into his embrace with no effort at all. Through the mental bond and the skin contact she felt the strength that coursed through his veins, the utter Godlike invulnerability that came with the Fever.

He was intensely aware that his bond with Tagliesh was still binding him, and that she would be entering the first phase of the Fever even now - feeling it through the bond as he did, but he no longer cared for that. She could suffer and burn and be sated as he would be, in the arms of Shirik Lektar.

Control was a far distant memory to Shirik, rational thought had fled her mind completely. She was enveloped by the fire, penetrated by it, and she embraced it, surrendered to it.

There was no love in this, only physical need, and she clung to him fiercely as he lifted her. She felt his strength and power, and it called to some primitive part of her, making her want him all the more.

Their first kiss was wholeheartedly passionate. Saavar's hand slid into the mass of her hair and held her as his other arm supported all of her weight. She was crushed against the solidity of his chest, the heat burning through their clothes as he engulfed her in his desire and raw need.

Like a rock-hewn statue he stood in the center of his quarters by the light of a single candle flame and kissed her, deeply, longingly...he drew back to gaze into her eyes, the lust fully inflamed. His grey eyes were fathomless and her own shone bright with kindled emotion.

From the depths of her memories and the mental sharing he spoke in Rennari, "Burn with me." And his lips pressed to hers once again as he carried her to his bed.

Shirik's arms enfolded his neck, pressing her chest tightly against him as she returned his kiss, devouring his lips. When they parted, her pupils were dilated, her gaze smoldering. "Wop tala mi...." she growled softly in echo, closing her eyes once more to lose herself in his kiss.

He climbed up on the bed, taking her with him, her legs wrapped around his waist and he knelt, locked in a burning kiss that was driving his fever ever upward, limitless it spiralled in their minds and in their blood. She held to his neck as his hands roamed her back and lifted the sweater she wore. Almost tearing it with his Vulcan strength he pulled it upward and off her, breaking the kiss and her hold for only a moment.

His full fleshed lips kissed her cheek, brushed her lips, hungered for the taste of her flesh as he lingered over her long neck to savor her womanly scent. His senses were keen and bright and the sound of her impassioned breathing and deep throated growls and sighs shot fingers of lust through his muscular frame.

Shirik helped wriggle free of her sweater, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. In her vision she could see the heat radiating off his body, the temperature rising, to her own body temperature and even higher. Her body trembled in growing need, and her hands went to work on his robe, shoving it off his shoulders in her haste and growling at the flesh revealed.

Her hands slid over the muscles of his chest and slipped into the remaining robe, exploring him with soft growls of desire.

His fingers found her belt, momentarily fumbling before simply breaking it and throwing it aside. As his robe fell away from his shoulders he released her long enough to let it fall away and bunch around his waist. His green tinged skin was smooth and heavily ridged with bands of muscle that was far denser than Human flesh. It was like caressing a marble statue.

His lips caressed her shoulder as his hands returned to her clothing. The rising passions of the fever were making his mind dizzy and losing all self restraint. His hands simply ripped the material apart like tissue paper, the shredding garment was split at the legs and with a single pull they were torn down to dangle like loose sleeves from her legs.

The feeling of her body pressed to his was delicious, enticing and inflaming at once.

His need was growing fiercer and her response in his mind was as ravenous as his own.

Shirik moaned as his hands ripped away the rest of her clothing, the hard muscle beneath her roaming hands only fanning her desire further. Her feet kicked off her shoes and the remnants of her pants, then set to work kicking the robes the rest of the way down his body. She writhed beneath him, rubbing her body seductively against his, seeking to build his fire even further, to push him past any remaining shred of self control.

He growled deep in his throat as the motions of her burning skin set alight his fever - it was almost unbearable. He let her fall to the bed as he tore his robe free and the under garment he wore was gone in a shredding yank. There was no more control left. He was Plak Tow She'dur - and his burning gaze traversed her body as if it was an offering on an altar to a pagan god.

***

The shared meld was suffused with unbearable ecstasy - both minds caught up in their shared release. It lasted for aeons as their bodies writhed together, pulsing and gripping at each other.

The Blood Fever seared them and burned to ashes.

In the aftermath there was only the two minds linked as one, Saavar holding her and murmuring softly in her ear as he kissed her gently.

Saavar lay down beside Shirik as they tried to recover their breath. He gazed into her eyes as he held her, more gently than before.

Shirik shivered in his arms, still awash in the aftermath, her eyes closed, heaving for breath. It was a long time before her eyes slowly opened and she kissed his ear softly. She felt fuzzy, and warm, and very content.

The Blood Fever left him emotionally open, and the contact with her body made the mind meld continue in a hazy glow of sensation and comfort.

They shared the warmth of the aftermath and he stroked her body tenderly, his hand against her jet skin looking stark and pale.

His Vulcan metabolism was still elevated and would be for hours yet. The fever, burning down still left him aroused yet sated.

He sighed as she nuzzled against his tender ear, and he spoke murmurs of comfort in Rennari as he stroked her perspiration soaked skin.

It was languid yet arousing, and he brushed the mass of white hair away from her cheek to kiss her, softly, tenderly - a complete opposite to their earlier frenzy.

She was amazed. From the flaming cauldron of Blood Fever, to the almost savage sex, to this tender openness, everything about what had happened continued to amaze her. She had fantasized at times, like most women likely did, about what it might be like to have a sexual encounter with a Vulcan, never believing it might actually happen some day. She had touched the fiery heart of Vulcan itself, and now was touching the emotional soul of a Vulcan. Everything she had learned or thought she knew about Vulcans was wrong, had been blown away by this night. One hand lazily caressed his cheek, then trailed down his side, exploring the muscled body beside her. No words were needed, she could feel everything he did, and could see all that was within him. Her own soul lay open before him. She had never shared a bond so close with anyone in her life before, and it was exciting, and wondrous. Any hint of fear she might have had earlier was utterly gone.

Saavar stared into her eyes and he smiled. The emotion was a gentle one, not love but an affection that ran deep as they explored one another's mind and body. This was a time of special significance to a Vulcan. With a Vulcan female, he would be melding deeply and awaiting the first sparks of new life that the Blood Fever would have prepared her body for. Vulcan women always had a child as a result of the Ponn Farr.

Saavar had never encountered a non-Vulcan Ponn Farr. The sensations were different, emotional. Her wonder at the coupling was gratifying and he also felt a renewed spark of arousal as she explored his body with her fingers.

He kissed her, a slow and tender kiss that suffused them both. His hands caressed her skin, knowing exactly how she loved to be touched, and feeling the sensations in her mind as his lips and his hands brought her back to a humming state of readiness.

Shirik returned his smile, and his kiss. She sighed softly in pleasure, loving the mutual intimate knowledge their bond brought, and used it herself, letting her fingers find his pleasurable places, tenderly touching him.

Her physiology was close enough to his that had she not taken precautions before leaving Drokar she too might be awaiting a Pon Farr child, although that was something that didn't occur to her.

He chuckled softly as her fingers caressed a tender stop on his abdomen, the ticklish sensation faded as she found another place that brought entirely different sensations.

***

He could sense her utter exhaustion.

Shirik was helpless under his onslaught. She could only writhe and moan out incoherent sounds, struggling in his grasp and loving every moment of it. Even exhausted, she still was able and willing to respond to him, her tenacity and strength of will overriding her body's limitations.

He allowed her to rest, sliding up to lie against her body, bringing her into a gentle embrace. Her hair was in total disarray, and he gathered it into a long rope as she curled against his heavily breathing form. He stroked her midnight skin, marvelling at its softness, caressing her for the sheer luxury of the sensations he was receiving through their bond.

He murmured soft words, comforting and loving into her ear as she nestled against him, recovering her wits and a portion of her strength.

Shirik was breathing heavily, she could barely move any more. She snuggled close against him, nuzzling her face into his chest with a deep sigh. She'd never even imagined an encounter like this. She thought it was probably a good thing Vulcans only did this once every seven years... How could anyone survive more than that? She couldn't help but to grin at that thought. She lay quietly for a time, just resting.

He held her while she quieted, their breathing linked together as they recovered. Their minds once more joined only superficially so that he could respect her privacy. He had escaped the curse that had been laid upon him and only because of the woman in his arms. He was more than grateful to her. She had literally saved his life. He could feel their bond, a dormant presence that he could sense but it did not chafe.

He smiled into the darkness, the emotions welling up from within made him joyful. He knew that he could allow those emotions freedom again, not locked behind s'at because a Human woman played havoc with them.

Xayella had brought on his fever early - he was sure of that. T'Sirra's calming presence would have allowed him to make it safely through the six months until his return to Alpha Quadant.

Now he was established with Shirik, and once again he was free of the fever for another seven years. He could go back to T'Sirra once he returned. She would fully understand. Unless by then she found another mate. That was entirely possible.

The prospect was mildly unnerving. Though he felt no urgency - he would simply send her a sub-space message.

He continued to stroke Shirik's back, calming her, while he still felt the strong urge to mate. He used meditation to stem the flow of energies and become more fully relaxed, though his senses were still razor sharp.

Shirik felt the waning of the meld once more, and part of her missed it already. Somehow it had felt so...natural. Perhaps because it had allowed her to see it from his point of view, from a Vulcan's and not a Drokari's. She relaxed, and opened her eye to give him a lazy smile. "Somehow I get the impression you could do this for days," she whispered.

"Perhaps several more hours," he said gently. "You can rest and recover," he laughed softly, a product of his partially sated state of mind. "We can resume if you wish."

Shirik smiled, she liked the sound of his laugh. He seemed so...happy. She was glad. "I don't think I can just yet...but maybe in a bit." She grinned, still willing in mind if not in body. Her fingers lightly roamed his muscular form, and went curiously seeking a particular spot that had caused a chuckle earlier...

He laughed, this time it was reflexive as she stroked his belly in a certain spot. It seemed foolish but she desired to hear him laugh and it came through their bond. He surrendered to the urge, knowing that it was only a reflex sensation caused by over stimulated nerve clusters in his epidermis.

Shirik shivered as she found the spot was not a fluke. "I never knew Vulcans could be ticklish," she whispered with a soft smile. The thought alone made her loins begin to heat up again, and her fingers lightly explored the area, loving the feel of the skin and muscles of his belly.

He chuckled, allowing her the pleasure that she was seeking and knowing also that it was, for some unknown reason creating further desire within her. He marvelled at this newfound bit of knowledge as his body naturally reacted to her increase in desire. He was beginning to suspect that she too could will her flesh into Vulcan-like performance. With a soft chuckle of amusement he allowed her to touch him where she willed.

She remembered how he had held her before, pinned helplessly to the bed as he did as he willed with her. She knew she lacked the strength to return the favor, especially now, after all this exercise. She took a strand of her silky hair in her fingers, and stroked his belly with it. What she sought wasn't a reaction he allowed, but rather a reaction he couldn't control if he wanted to. That was what put fire in her loins.

Saavar smiled as she turned playful. It was unusual to feel the emotions coursing through him the way they were with Shirik.

Her hair was soft, so fine that the sensation was rippling across his torso with his enhanced senses due to the Pon Farr. It brought a widening grin as the sheer joy bubbled up from deep within. Her intent was clear. She was engaged in 'tickling', and it was working as he tightened his muscles against the sensation.

It brought a chuckle from deep within his chest as he sensed her emotions responding to what he was feeling through the bond. He laughed, a true rich baritone laugh as her hair slid along his lower belly and made his muscles twitch and jump.

Shirik shivered at his response, not only at his laugh, which sounded like deep music, but at the sensations she caused him which she could feel through their bond. It ignited her desire once more, and it showed in her smoldering gaze.

She loved the newfound freedom of this link between them, that made words and explanations unnecessary, that let him understand her needs just as she understood his. She leaned down to kiss his chest lightly as she slowly dragged the strands of silky hair along his belly. Every reaction to it brought more fire between her legs, edging her towards readiness once more.

Saavar rolled so that he could look at her as he laughed, her violet eyes were alight as she regarded him with a wicked smile on her full lips. He reached out and brushed his own fingers along her side, softly enough to make her react.

Shirik issued a surprised squeak at his touch. She wasn't normally ticklish there, but in her heightened state of sensitivity his touch made her react. She gave up her own attack to take hold of his wrist, bringing his hand to her breast, where her swollen nipple awaited. "All right...truce..." She grinned at him, her lips seeking his once more.

His other hand took up where he'd left off. As he gripped her swollen flesh and kissed her ardently his fingers stroked her skin and continued to evoke the sensations that rippled through his mind.

His lips locked to hers as he mercilessly tickled her side. She jumped and squirmed but he held her fast and then sought her breast with his mouth.

Shirik squealed into his mouth as he pressed his attack, trying unsuccessfully to squirm away from his fingers. Her free hand reached to stop him as she giggled out, "No fair!", which dissolved into a moan as his lips found her breast.

***

Shirik felt like her brain was overloading with all the sensations slamming her at once. She screamed out helplessly, lost in the meld and the sensations of their joined release.

When it was over, she collapsed. She had no strength left in her, she felt numb and drained utterly. Her eyes were partially opened but she saw nothing, her brain fuzzy with overstimulation and exhaustion.

Saavar lay beside her and watched her with heavy lidded eyes. He was sated. Finally, she had burned the last of the fever from his mind and his body. He wrapped an arm around her and drew her into him so that she was curled away from him and he conformed to her shape, curling his body with hers.

He gathered her hair and twisted it so that it lay in a long rope between them, before kissing her shoulder and stroking her back gently and soothingly.

A small tired smile found her lips at his gentle touch. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she snuggled back against his warmth, drifting off to sleep.

Saavar smiled as he felt her drift into sleep. It was 0500hrs and they needed to be on shift by 0800hrs. He didn't think that she would wake. In his own way Saavar lay awake and simply meditated the time away.

Shirik was deeply asleep within moments, and could probably sleep the next three days if allowed to. Given an hour's time for shift preparation, that would leave two hour's sleep. She certainly would not wake up by then. She didn't move as she slept, she was sleeping like the proverbial log.

Saavar held her as she slept. The Pon Farr was a faint current in his blood now, a heady feeling that was a pleasant sensation.

As she curled against him he was still conscious of their bond, being a touch telepath, their bodies lying naked and twined together was allowing an openness of subconscious communication. It was a comfortable sharing.

She was more Vulcan than she knew, they were compatible on many levels, but the one surprising element to this bond was that Saavar's Romulan side meshed with her perfectly.

He lay perfectly still while she slept.

He began meditating, but her slumber and the contentment that she felt invaded his mind until no longer able to withstand the effects, he too fell into a deep sleep.

***

Shirik started awake some time later. The room was still dark, and Saavar was a warm sleeping form snuggled beside her. She smiled slightly, her eyes drooping closed once more, whatever had awakened her forgotten.

The commbadge chirped again.

"Lieutenant Connors to Ensign Lektar." Connors was an Operations officer on Alpha shift that assisted in computer technology areas. His voice sounded irritated.

Shirik frowned. Who? Why was he calling her at this hour? She reached to tap her commbadge and found only naked breast. Her frown deepened. Where was her commbadge, anyway?

With a soft groan she slid herself as gently as she could from Saavar so as not to wake him, and crawled around on the floor fumbling for her torn clothing and the commbadge that was somewhere in it. Ah! She found it. "Yes... Lektar here..." she murmured sleepily.

"Ensign, it is thirty three minutes past your allotted shift commencement. If you are not fit for duty I would suggest you turn in to sickbay immediately."

"What! Stach khruth khresh!" she hissed. "Yes, sir... I'm on my way..." She turned off the commbadge and jumped up to leap into the bathroom. Late! She was late! This was the first time, ever, that she had been late. She groaned as she jumped into the sonic shower. A permanent scar on her previously perfect service record.

It took a few moments for it to sink in that these were not her quarters. There were strange toiletries in the bathroom that weren't hers, and nothing in the bathroom was hers. She stood blinking for a moment, and everything came back. "Stach khresh...." she whispered. She'd spent the whole night in Saavar's room.

She scurried from the shower to go replicate a uniform. Right now there was no time to think about anything or talk about anything, she had to get to shift. Who was that guy, anyway? Why didn't Sorg call her? She tugged on her uniform and stuck her commbadge in place, hurriedly brushed her hair with one of Saavar's brushes, and tied it into a quick ponytail.

Saavar sat up in bed to watch her hurriedly dressing. He had slept, rather well. He smiled as he leaned back on his hands. "You are leaving?" he asked.

Shirik glared at him, but couldn't keep the stern expression for long before an answering smile found her lips. "Unlike you, I have to go to work this morning. And I'm late!" She looked at him, his naked form and warm bed, longingly. She wished she didn't have to go, that she could just snuggle back into his arms.

"Contact sickbay, perhaps you are ill." His smile turned sly.

Shirik rolled her eyes then just looked at him. Perhaps she was rubbing off on him. The look he gave her made her shiver. "I don't think lack of sleep due to an all-night sexfest is an acceptable excuse for missing shift," she said, heading for the door. She paused before it opened. "But you are tempting." She flashed him a smile before vanishing out the doors, leaving her torn clothing from the night before where it lay on the floor.

Saavar watched her go with what had to be disappointment. He examined the feeling and realized that the irritability he had felt with his emotions was no longer apparent.

He felt perfectly healthy, and more importantly - well adjusted mentally. The Pon Farr had run its course. He was safe from its effects for another cycle.

A slow smile spread on his face. He was free of Tagliesh. A momentary flash of concern touched him in regard to the night she may have had. She would have experienced some of the Pon Farr. She would not have any lingering effects, he had burned it out successfully without having to resort to Xayella as a mating partner.

***

Once in the turbolift, and the adrenaline rush of being late and rushing to get ready started to fade, Shirik sagged against the wall of the lift. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck. She was so tired...she didn't know how she'd make it through shift, plus now she'd have to work late to make up for being late this morning. She only prayed Sorg didn't ask a bunch of questions.

She frowned, a bit miffed at him. Why hadn't he called her himself, rather than letting her superiors in Ops know she had overslept? It could have been kept quiet, but now... She groaned. Would the rumor mill get hold of this? How many people saw her leave Saavar's quarters this morning?

She closed her eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache, and decided not to think about any of it until she had to. She desperately needed klaas, and a lot of it. She thought instead about Saavar, and that brought a small tired smile back to her features.

The lift doors opened, and the smile was gone. She stepped out, tried to straighten her posture and look normal. But her uniform was wrinkled in places from her rush to put it on. Her hair was unruly, and loosely tied in a ponytail rather than its tight braid. And her eyes mirrored her exhaustion.

She was sore in places she didn't know people could be sore. She'd need to sleep and not move for days, she thought. She steeled herself for Sorg.

As the doors opened into the computer core, Sorg turned slightly to see that it was Shirik. He gave her a curt nod, his usual smile nowhere in evidence this morning. He did take in her tired expression, the less than usually perfect uniform and the loose strands of her hair that were so unusually out of place.

His expression turned hard. His heart sank. He stayed silent as she walked to her station to log into the system.

She stood there for a moment. She tried to force a good morning from her lips, but it wouldn't come. The look on his face took any remaining shred of hope for a good morning out of her. She moved silently to log into the system, then came back to replicate a big mug of klaas. She stood looking at him with it in her hands. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said quietly. Even though she outranked him, and he was nothing more than a guard, she felt like she had let him down. She knew in his place she would be angry, too. She turned and went back to her console, slumping into her chair to suck from the mug greedily.

"I hope the Lieutenant was worth it," he said quietly.

Her back to him she stiffened, her eyes widening. What did he know? How much? No doubt that ops person had told him where she was... She scowled darkly. But the scowl was gone when she slowly swiveled her chair to face him. "What?" She wanted to know for sure what he meant.

"I changed the internal sensor log," he said quietly. "Lieutenant Connors thinks you were in your own quarters. I would have called you myself, but the internal sensors said that you were in someone else's quarters, so I took the liberty of covering for you. Sir."

Shirik stared at him, her mouth dropping open. She almost dropped her mug, but managed to set it aside. "But...that's a breach of security..." What would T'Kal think? Sorg would be in big trouble. "Why?" she asked. Why on Drokar would he have done such a thing for her? She couldn't understand that.

His stone face remained as he shrugged. "You would have been in all kinds of trouble," he said quietly. "I didn't want you being the subject of gossip. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul and no one will know I changed the log. Connors thinks you slept in, that's all. He was a little irritated, but I pointed out that you had worked pretty hard on the away team."

"Oh, Sorg...." she said softly. Her eyes conveyed her deep gratitude, for a kindness she obviously didn't feel she deserved. "You'll be in all kinds of trouble if anyone finds out." Not to mention her, now that she knew about it. "Thank you... I owe you a big one."

Her expression cracked his facade and he looked away and smiled slightly. "Don't worry about it," he said. "It's no big deal. No one will be able to find out." So much for dinner, he thought as he looked back at her. "Perhaps you'd better freshen up, sir," he suggested politely. "You look like you dressed in a hurry."

"I don't forget my debts," she said quietly. "I'll repay this one somehow, eventually." She looked down at her wrinkled uniform and nodded. "Yeah... I'll be right back." She got up from her chair and went into the restroom down the hall to straighten up her uniform, and re-tie her hair into its normal braid. When she returned, she looked and felt more normal.

She went to her console and seated herself once more, taking her mug in hand once she'd started the daily diagnostics. "Sorg?" she swiveled to face him once more.

"Much better," Sorg smiled. "Though you look awful tired," he teased.

Shirik smiled a bit. "I am awfully tired," she agreed. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Being late, or being in someone else's quarters?" he smiled.

"Likely both," she said. "I certainly will not ever have you in a position like the one this morning. You shouldn't have had to do that for me...." She looked down into her mug. "I know nobody else would have."

"You're welcome, Shirik," he smiled. "Anytime." It was the way he said the last word that she knew that he truly meant it.

"I do still owe you a dinner, too," she mused. "I'd ask you tonight, but... I'll probably be sleeping." She smiled a bit.

"That's okay - I wouldn't want to get in the way," he smiled depreciatingly.

Shirik quirked an eyebrow. "In the way? Of sleep?"

"Of your other friend," he replied.

She thought about this while considering her reply. Even if she and Saavar were an item, dinner with someone else wouldn't be in the way. Hell, in her culture, even sex with someone else wouldn't be in the way. "You won't be," she said finally. "It's not like you're probably thinking, anyway...."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "You stayed in someone else's quarters all night...what should I be thinking?" he asked. "I'm sorry - you don't need to answer that, it's none of my business," he added quickly.

"It's complicated," she said. She paused for a moment in thought. "It might do you some good to look into Drokari culture," she suggested.

"I have." He shrugged and his smile faltered. There wasn't much he could admire about a race that kept most of the planetary inhabitants in ignorant slavery. There were just too many parallels with Cardassia and Bajor.

Hers did, too, as she remembered. She sighed. "I meant..." She stopped. What did it matter, anyway? She shook her head. "I'm just saying that I still want to have dinner with you, regardless."

He nodded. "Okay - that would be nice." He gave her a smile. "I'd really enjoy that," he added. "I didn't do what I did so that you'd have dinner with me either."

"I know," she smiled. "I was going to have dinner with you anyway, before all this."

He smiled genuinely at that. She was so beautiful, he couldn't deny her anything if she asked. He envied Saavar, spending a night with someone like Shirik Lektar would be something Sorg Jurell just couldn't contemplate.

"Better get to work or Lieutenant Connors will be on your case," he suggested. "I don't want him asking any more questions." He grinned.

"Indeed," she agreed, turning her attention back to her console. The klaas was helping her to wake up some, so she felt at least reasonably able to function now. But as she tapped out commands, her mind was anywhere but on her work. She had a loyal friend in Sorg, she now realized, and a new closeness with Saavar. Where it all ended up going was going to prove interesting, she thought. She smiled as she worked, feeling a lot better.

---

"Affective Release Valve"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.18, 03h10

***

Although there was never more than one tossed into the air at any given time, Cristobel Sefton was juggling three PADDs, and he didn't particularly enjoy it. He tended to multi-task as many files as possible on a single PADD - the bronze one he'd used all through his time at the Academy - but the tasks he was multi-ing currently required severe distinction to avoid making mistakes.

The gunmetal grey one, with the smallish screen, was reprogrammed to prevent it from connecting to the ship's systems, considering how corrupted they seemed to be. It was directly connected to the biobed in PrivateExam-02, currently serving JJ324c virus patient Doctor Kremer. The biobed had been similarly disconnected from the main computer, and, as such, the bed's sensor-readouts could not be accessed from any LCARS display, as would be the norm.

Cristobel's own bronze PADD, with the largest possible screen, was where Cristobel was updating the medical records of patients who were provided with minor treatments from himself, and anything more challenging from Doctor Allison Jacobs. The pale grey standardized PADD was where Cristobel was keeping track of all of the verbal medical logs he was recording for himself and Ensign Jacobs. Since the start of his extra shift, he'd offered to handle the bulk of Allison's file-updating, to allow her more time for treating the ceaseless stream of patients spilling into Sickbay from all areas of the temperamental Sulu.

Cristobel, Doctor Damhnait Sefton telepathically called him from her office. Corran may have trouble recognising the operating end of a Federation anabolic protoplaser, but he can handle a PADD. Let him assist Doctor Jacobs. There is a task... I need you.

"What's happening?" Cristobel blurted out by the time the door to the CMO's office opened half-way for him. He slipped in, and verbally slipped in a, "Where's the emergency?"

"Here," Damhnait quietly admitted. She was seated behind her desk, and neither stood up, nor looked up from her virus research. "I don't know how I am going to do this."

"Pfft," Cristobel breathed out, and took a moment to drop into the chair across from hers and slightly lean back comfortably. "The way you always do? With grace and panache."

"No," Damhnait told him firmly. "You do not under-- I nearly had a breakdown in front of Lieutenant Tagliesh this morning. Tagliesh. Tagliesh! She is neither a patient nor a direct subordinate, and so my subconscious must have supposed she was my only opportunity to let my professionalism slip enough to unrepress. Of course, once I let even a little of my guilt slip out, everything became about her, and her own guilt."

"Then unload the crazy now," Cristobel insisted, his tone for the word 'now' revealing how simplistic the plan seemed and his disbelief at his mother not having realised it. "You were always the one who told me that it's not healthy to--"

Damhnait didn't require any further encouragement, aside from his initial permission. Wide-eyed and with rambling intensity, she enthused, "The crew is starting to lose faith in me because I have yet to end the threat of the virus, and no one has ever had faith in the rest of the medical staff. Ever. The most brilliant minds on JJ324c must have banded together to stop this virus, and they could not solve it in all the time it took for an entire planet's population to die. But, I suppose, I am expected to have done it in a day. Even though, now, just as I am finally starting to trust this medical staff, its members have been quarantined, and the rest of you will soon be dropping from exhaustion. I am going to need even more overtime hours out of you and Amy until this is over, but the two of you are becoming more of a distraction than a help, with all of your little sideways glares at one another."

Sheepishly, Cristobel interjected, "Yeah... that's only going to get worse..."

"And then Lieutenant Tagliesh, who is supposed to be my partner and liaison to Sciences in saving the crew from the virus, is talking about daytripping off on some away mission back to the planet, where she'll require medical personnel, of course," Damhnait ranted on, nearly oblivious to Cristobel's words. "With Xayella's assistance thus far, as sleep-deprived and jagged as it has been, I have managed to develop an untested vaccine, based on the pathogen found in the corpses, which might work to at least protect the rest of the crew, or maybe it will be about as useful as trying to use the Yxrk vaccine to stop this virus. As for the already-infect crewmembers, their DNA has so dhia-damned much uniquely in common that the computer and I absolutely cannot determine from any mathematical model if the virus has been engineered towards a specific target. Even though, it has to have been, since I have tried everything but gene therapy on the infected patients.

"Meanwhile, I have no idea what the captain and first officer are doing. Probably their duties to the ship, but they certainly are not leading this crew towards saving itself. And I'm starting to become distracted by questioning my previous decisions of releasing some of the medical staff. If I had chosen M'lira and Kremer to be recalled to DS9, they would not be dying right now. If I had not chosen Doctor McGraw to be recalled (because he's a homophobic prat) we would have one more likely-immune doctor aboard who is absolutely brilliant in virology. Dhia, it will only be a matter of time before they call a medical ship. Probably even the Ezell. Then all of my previous colleagues can laugh at me."

Eyebrows high on his forehead, his expression otherwise indeterminable, Cristobel asked, "Is that all?"

Releasing a deep breath and pausing to consider her mental state for some moments, Damhnait finally decided upon, "Yes."

"Feel better?"

Considering her emotional state, then, Damhnait decided upon, "Much."

"You know you sounded like Amy, right?" Cristobel asked with mock-derision.

"...Yes," Damhnait begrudgingly admitted. "I thought that brand of defensive paranoia sounded familiar as it came out."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Cristobel encouragingly asked.

"Save the day and let Tagliesh steal the credit," Damhnait brightly responded.

"That's my mom," Cris grinned. "And now, you should get some sleep."

"I can't. My mind is still twisted around the virus." She promised, "I'll sleep during Alpha, and leave Derrell in command of Sickbay for the day. After a solid half-hour or four of sleep, I will probably stick to the Life Sciences Lab and the virus."

"How about you let me help with vanquishing the virus. Maybe you'll be able to get to sleep sooner. I may not have the education of a Nurse Practitioner, but I almost ended up as a damn fine Science Officer," Cristobel needlessly boasted.

Calling visuals up on the LCARS display behind her, Damhnait explained, "Here are the potential targets in each patient's DNA. With what we know, we must determine how much of a cellular change we can make to each patient's DNA, to provide immunity and prevent further viral spread, without changing so much as to cause irreparable harm, which could be worse than the virus itself. What is your first suggestion?"

"Hmmm..." Cristobel carefully considered it all seriously. "How about... I go bring Kremer some food and record his vitals."

"Good idea," Damhnait smirked. Genuinely grinning as Cristobel rose to leave, she added, "And thank you."

---

"Curious Like the Cait"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Kremer - Medical Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57908.18, 03h24

***

When Nurse Sefton entered the quarantined Private Examination Room Two, with a tray of nutrient- and mineral-enriched water and a small portion of fish in hand, he found Ensign Kremer, wearing a Benzite-designed breathing apparatus to provide him with extra oxygen, sitting up in the biobed. Cris supposed Kremer would normally be asleep at this time, but no one's circadian rhythms were particularly normal during a time of crisis.

"How are you feeling?" Cristobel asked from behind his facemask, while he glanced at the biobed's monitor, and set the food down on the counter beside the bed.

"Aside from the fact that my lungs still feel like they're on fire, I'm feeling a bit better, having less trouble breathing than I was earlier...can't sleep..." Kremer stated looking up at Cris.

"I could look into painkillers and sedatives," Sefton offered, thumbing the doorway. Trying to imagine Kremer's entire state of mind, without just checking for himself, Cristobel supposed, "...Or is it not just a typical kind of insomnia?"

"I'm not altogether certain, my mind is racing with questions...regarding...this contagion..." Kremer paused for a moment to catch his breath and grabbed the cup of water from the tray, taking a long drink before continuing, "Or maybe it is a side effect of this pathogen...have similar...conditions been reported from the others...?"

"No, that's all you," Cristobel asserted succinctly. His voice lowered to explain, "Mel'Chir... she can't... she had to be hooked up to an artificial lung. Her own won't breathe for her anymore."

"When did this happen to Mel'Chir?"

"The start of Gamma shift," Cristobel replied.

"What is her condition right now? I take it she has been stabilized."

Cristobel nodded, and very quietly smiled as he snatched a PADD from the holster on his belt, to hand to Kremer. "I figured you'd want to see all of Doctor Sefton's findings, as well as the raw data from the analyses of the pathogen itself."

"Thank you." Kremer took the offered PADD from Cris and began to scroll through the information concerning Doctor Sefton's findings. "If I'm reading this right, the pathogen itself is airborne? Then why haven't any other members of the Away Teams become infected with the pathogen?"

"The pathogen isn't present in the atmospheres of the planet nor the Sulu," Cris summarised the findings. "Its range outside of a body is fairly short, due to its instability, and most of the species on board seem to have a natural immunity."

"Any ideas as to how the pathogen infected members of the Away Teams?" Kremer asked, reviewing the notes on the PADD.

"Close proximity to the corpses in the faulty stasis chambers," Cristobel replied.

The Cait handed the PADD back to Cris, having finished reading over Doctor Sefton's findings. "I trust you'll keep me informed." Coughing briefly Kremer took another drink from his water before looking back to Cris. "So far it seems, the path-ogen attacks the lungs, has it displayed anything else worth noting?"

The oddities immediately coming to Sefton's mind were that, "Once the lungs are infected, the virus causes the natural creation of aerosols, which is fairly uniquely helpful for transmission. As well, the virus manages to inhibit the entire respiratory system, not just the infected lungs themselves."

The Caitian felt his tail curl itself in worry as he silently contemplated his thoughts. "What have we stumbled across here...this planet seems to be like an onion; bit by bit we peel away the layers and we keep uncovering more secrets..." Kremer mused mostly to himself.

"Everything in the universe is like that," Cristobel stated confidently, but then digressed, "aside from two-dimensional beings. ...Even you have probably got secrets and depths the medical staff can't even imagine."

"Indeed...everyone has secrets to keep..." Kremer replied mysteriously. After a brief moment of silence he looked back up at the nurse. "Well if it's alright with you I would like to eat my meal and then get some rest. I trust you'll keep me informed as things progress?"

"Of course," Cristobel promised, and left the quarantine room to give the Cait his privacy. Sefton swung by his mother's office to provide her with the isolinear chip detailing Kremer's current status.

Damhnait Sefton only needed one hard look at Kremer's readings to realise that any preventative vaccine would be useless. She found herself reminded of her Chief Medical Officer on the Trillium, and what he often said when making similar discoveries: "Huh choo-sheng tza-jiao duh tzang-huo."

---

"Permission"
By: Captain Matthew Salinger
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Matt's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.18, 05h00

***

The night had been mostly sleepless, but it promised a brighter today than the last. It appeared that Saavar's hold over Xay had vanished and her mind was her own once more, free from the influence of the mind meld. At the sounds of movement in the room, Matt opened his eyes and looked around. The spot in the bed next to him was empty. With a puzzled frown, he sat up and looked around. He spotted Xay across the room, dressed in her uniform and looking over a padd. He shifted to the edge of the bed. She turned at the sound of his movement. "Morning," he said. "I think I preferred that little nightshirt, the uniform is too scratchy in bed and the boots always get piled at the foot of the bed."

"Don't worry," she assured him with a chuckle, "I'll put it back on tonight. Can't exactly wear it for a mission, now can I?"

"A mission?" he said, suddenly awake. "I hadn't heard anything about a mission."

She smiled apologetically. "That's because I hadn't gotten a chance to tell you. It's just a small away team going down to the planet to explore. We want to try and find some answers." Rising and moving towards the bed, she continued, "I'll be heading it, if you don't mind...and if you approve."

Matt nodded. "I think it's necessary, but I wish you'd said something about it before you'd gotten ready," he said. "And, after last night, are you sure it's actually a good idea? You weren't exactly well for most of the night, after all."

"But I'm fine now," she assured him. Sitting upon the edge of the mattress she leaned over Matt and kissed him softly. "I'm feeling better. Nothing's going to happen to me down there, okay?"

"Well, with the trouble with ship's systems, make sure you go down in a shuttle," he said. "I like you in one piece, and who knows how many pieces the transporters might leave you in. Who's on your team so far?"

Xay sighed and raised her hand, palm upturned to begin counting off with her fingers. "Well, there's Ensign Sefton, Ensign Vijay will be piloting, Ensign Chambers for her archaeological expertise, Ensign Farrell...." She paused and stared up at the ceiling to help her recall the rest.

Matt nodded. "Security?"

Xayella snapped her fingers, as if she'd forgotten. "Oh, yes... I sent in a request for a security officer yesterday." Smiling at him, she said, "No worries, okay?"

"Yesterday?" Matt asked, his humour fading. "How long have you been planning this outing without any word of it to me?"

"Only since late yesterday," she told him. "Matt, I was going to ask your permission, but you know how hectic the day was." Sighing, Xayella brushed Matt's bangs from his brow and whispered, "I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner."

He pulled back away from her slightly. "Yes, you should have," he said. "After everything yesterday, you're still holding things back from me. Sure it was hectic, but I'd think this mission would have been important enough not to slip your mind, especially since you already have your team selected."

"So, what?" she asked. "Are you going to deny my request?"

Matt sighed at her defensive, accusatory tone. "No," he said after a moment. "We need to find a way to help Lieutenant Mel'Chir and the others. But, I'm not happy with how you've gone about it." The disappointment was clear in his eyes as he watched her.

"Matt, I wasn't going to leave this ship without informing her Captain of the away mission," she told him. "Besides, this is my mess, and I'm going to fix it."

"This isn't your mess," Matt said. "This is something we're all involved in. It's shipwide and all of our responsibility. You can't take the blame for this or you'll drive yourself insane."

"I will if I don't go down there," she countered. "Please, Matt...I have to do this, for the sake of my own conscience."

"I understand," Matt said. "I just wish you'd been more open with me about this. I'm getting used to you closing yourself off to me in our personal relationship, but this is professional. This affects this ship and this crew, and I can't allow things to be slipped past and then overlooked because of our relationship." He was silent for a moment, then he shook his head. "You can go, but just make sure to play it by the book."

She smiled her charming smile and kissed his brow. "Don't I always, Captain?" With a chuckle, she rose, but kept her hand cradling his cheek. "I'll come back with a cure, Matt. I will."

Matt pulled away again. "By the book," he said. "And, be careful, Xayella. Good luck."

Noting his shift in demeanour, Xayella gave a duteous nod and stood up straight-backed. "I will, Captain. I'll contact you when we return." And without a smile, one the situation didn't call for, Xayella retrieved her padd as she passed the table and exited their bedroom.

After she'd gone, Matt crawled out of bed and began getting himself ready for his duty shift. He only hoped Xay's team was successful, and he only hoped she would open up to him more, both as her lover and as her captain. She was still far too secretive and rebellious, and in the end it would only cause trouble for them both.

---

"Sounds Like A Mystery (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part 1)"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Science Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor

Location: Shuttle La Grange
Stardate: 57908.18 05h32

***

Firing thrusters so that the 'Grange could properly line up on JJ324c's atmosphere without bouncing off, Sanat tapped his console to ensure they had met the desired altitudinal range for their mission. As they slowed to a stable position, the indicator blinked green and he announced, "Low asynchronous orbit achieved. You may begin scanning at any time."

Ainsley sat in the back seating section silently reigning in her excitement. As a junior counselor the opportunities to go on away missions were few and far between and this was her very first mission. "So what exactly are we doing on this mission anyway?"

"Ideally, we're looking for survivors," Farrell said from the co-pilot's chair. "Given that the virus can't affect the Sulu's bio-neural net because of its human genetic base, it makes sense that someone else is actively messing with the systems. That someone may still be down here, wondering if the Sulu's friend or foe."

"I always try to pick my friends by sabotaging their lives and offering a warm-and-fuzzy kick to the crotch," Cristobel Sefton deadpanned, from the back in the seating against the starboard bulkhead. Less deadpanny, more exasperated, Cris asked, "How are he-she-it-they even doing it?"

"Good question. We can ask if we find 'em," Farrell grinned. "Which brings us to the specifics of what we're doing. We're going to want to scan for someplace hardened. Someplace scan-resistant. If we can't tell what's inside, that's where we'll start looking. Assuming the lieutenant concurs. Lieutenant?"

"We're unlikely to find anything in the main city," Xay agreed. "If someone is doing this, they're hiding from us and that will be somewhere undetectable by standard methods."

Vijay took an atmospheric particulate reading while they debated the hows and whys of what was going wrong with many of the Sulu's auxiliary systems. Luckily, due in part to Lieutenant Commander Sam's diligence, none of the major systems had failed . . . yet. He called over his shoulder, "There's a large group of mountains coming into scanner range now. It's as likely a spot as any to start."

"Focusing sensors on those coordinates," Xay announced, and inputted the commands into her console. "Those mountains might prove difficult to penetrate, depending on their composition."

"We've got your best gear, right?" Farrell asked, in a tone that said he already knew the answer.

She offered him a smug grin. "A little faith, Ensign. Do you think I'd proceed with such an undertaking and not modify this piece of junk?" Her smile at Vijay, the typical pilot who might take offense to any insult directed at his shuttle, was hardly apologetic. "I just tweaked the sensors to my specifications," she explained. "The resolution and power was hardly enough for our purposes."

He ignored the jab, it was well known that Lt. Tagleash didn't like Vulcans very much, although the rumor mill had her and Savaar sleeping together...but then, she kept the CO's bed too...still, who or whom or what she bedded did not concern him right now, the welfare of his passengers and vessel did.

"Sir, no disrespect intended, but you should have informed me of the sensor modifications before we left. I know you are in charge of this mission, however, I'm in charge of the La Grange and your 'tweaking' could have caused a serious malfunction to related systems." Sanat's tone was even and businesslike, there were no indications of malicious intent in his words, just a factual reminder of how things were supposed to work on this type of foray.

"Oh, you're far too paranoid," she answered dismissively. "I performed system diagnostics following my modifications. We aren't dead yet, are we?" She smirked.

"Speaking of dead," Farrell said, the segue almost unawkward, "How's stuff in sickbay, Sefton?"

"Sickbay is shiny," Cristobel faux-enthused. "So shiny, in fact, that we're on the verge of abolishing the Sulu's own shift schedule, in favor of instituting a twenty-four hour Omega Shift. There may not be a cure to the virus yet, but the symptoms have been manageable, which means it's been much more likely for crewmembers to end up in Sickbay because of our very own ship, and potentially new friends warmly saying 'hello'."

"There's precedent for alien races saying 'hello' in potentially lethal ways," Farrell quipped.

"It's very common," Ainsley responded from her seat. "Sometimes it's as simple as a race attempting to send communications to a ship, but their form of communication shorts out computer systems. Other times it's gifts that are lethal to one species but not another. It's intended to be beneficial, but ends up being dangerous in practice."

"But has the Sulu been receiving any transmissions from the planet?" Sefton asked, befuddled as to how the Sulu could be misunderstanding information, without any apparent form of transmission.

"None," Xayella replied succinctly. "At least not that we can tell. Though if that pathogen is their way of making contact, they really need a lesson in etiquette."

"I suppose they'd also need a lesson in pathogen transmission," Cristobel remarked, skeptical of her theory. "Since they hid it in a stasis chamber inside of a sensor-proof locked room outside of the main settlement."

"Who's to say they hid anything?" Xayella shot back. "For all we know that pathogen slipped into the stasis chambers after they were damaged, or the people in them could have been infected and not have known it." The expression she wore as Xayella regarded Cristobel indicated clearly what she thought of his theories: idiotic. "They didn't stuff those people into stasis chambers to use them as biological weapons. If they were intelligent enough to do that, they wouldn't have wiped out their world's entire population in the process."

"It was never my suggestion that the pathogen was a way of making contact;" Cristobel asserted non-aggressively. "I was merely extrapolating from your theory and the fact that the pathogen has not been found anywhere on the planet aside from those three stasis chambers."

Vijay ignored their continual fencing as he made a minor pitch adjustment to compensate for some torsional air shearing that was beginning to build as they crossed the mountainous region Tagliesh was scanning.

"Which simply means that once all life on the planet died out," Xayella stressed with a narrowed gaze, "so too did the pathogen. The only theory I have, Ensign, is that whatever answers we seek, we'll find on that planet. We can save the deductive reasoning for a later time." Then she returned her focus to the sensor read-outs on her display.

"Then etiquette had nothing to do with anything," Cristobel muttered to his diagnostic-running medical tricorder.

"The pathogen's a side effect we were probably never supposed to have to deal with," Farrell cut in. "Crazy as it sounds, I'd bet we're dealing with something that's survived and is trying to make contact. 'How' is something I can't answer. I'd like to try and figure out who or what first. Which brings us back to our scanning," he added meaningfully, with a glance at Tagliesh.

She looked up at Farrell and met his gaze, none too pleased, but still wearing a smile. "I believe I've found a sensor void located among those mountains," she announced nonchalantly. "I'm transferring the coordinates to you now, Ensign Vijay. If there's anything down there," she told Farrell directly, "I'd wager it's located there."

"Understood. Coordinates received and laid in. A little traveling music, Admiral?" he quipped.

"You bet," Farrell smirked, keying his console. A low energetic base guitar riff started through the shuttle's speakers. "Ready, gang?" Farrell asked to the group.

"Can't wait," Xayella muttered with a shifting, disdainful gaze towards the various members of her team.

"Keen as a nectarine," Cristobel enthused, the sarcasm flowing freely without a drop of intention.

"Ready!" Ainsley chimed in, her enthusiasm apparent in her voice as it was completely contrary to the other two.

"Rumor goin' round / In that Texas town / ‘Bout that shack outside La Grange," mumbled the singer.

The pilot started to quip that he was hungry and wanted a snack, but then opted to say instead, "Everyone hold tight, things might get a little bumpy."

"Just let me know / If you wanna go / To that home out on the range." The baseline gave way to a driving snare and guitar melody. Without giving anyone much time to brace him- or herself, Sanat whipped the shuttle over into a 50-degree bank and began their descent towards the sensor void.

---

"Creating A Spectacle"
By: Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: T'Kal and Lyrr's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.18, 06h30

***

Hands on her hips and a satisfied smile in place, Lyrr looked over the spread she'd laid out for breakfast and nodded her approval. When Ben had jumped into the shower after waking her, as reluctant as she was to get him accustomed to being catered to, Lyrr took it upon herself to order a random selection from the breakfast menu for each of them. One plate was Terran cuisine, with eggs scrambled into delicate, golden mounds, accompanied by strips of crisp bacon and lightly toasted bread, glistening with a coating of butter. Her plate consisted of various diced fruits from Vladen IV, topped with a generous dollop of cream; once Ben finished his shower, and after she could take her own, Lyrr was eager to tuck into her meal. Until then, she remained standing over the table, wearing a long, blue robe over her standard sleepwear, and feeling increasingly more content with their living arrangement.

Ben had woken at 04h40 to take his daily run, returned to wake her an hour later and hopped into the shower. Meanwhile she had prepared the meal and waited for her turn. While she would shower, Ben could dress and eat and then they could head for the bridge. Lyrr was pleased with how organized it all sounded. Domestic life was far simpler than many attested to. "Maybe they're simply not cut out for it," she mused to herself, and shrugged.

Benedict stepped out of the refresher in his light sleeping kimono, still toweling his hair dry. He smiled at Tayla and looked at the table. He hung the towel over his shoulders and stepped up to her, giving her a quick kiss. "Hmm...smells good. You going to eat before your shower?" The hot breakfast looked good. They hadn't shared breakfast in almost a week. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. Her hair was still mussed, but she was wearing a happy smile.

"I figured," she began, "that while you ate, I would shower. Then, while I ate, you could dress and" --she flattened a stray wisp of hair standing up on his head and chuckled-- "get otherwise presentable. Efficient, huh?"

He frowned. "So...we're not actually going to eat breakfast together?" He raised one brow and smiled. "Tayla - the whole point of being in a relationship is that we do things together...not so that we can efficiently organize ourselves around each other and end up spending time apart." He gave her another kiss. "We eat together...at least." He gave her a seductive smile.

Lyrr eyed him warily, recognized his suggestive gaze, and laughed softly as she broke away from his embrace. "Fine," she relented, pulling out a chair at the table. "We eat together." Smiling primly, Lyrr took her seat, then gestured towards T'Kal's. "Sir..." she drawled. "If you will..."

He gave her a suspicious look as he sat at the table. "You're not upset are you?" He started to help himself to the eggs and as he heaped his plate he smiled across the table at her. "I hate eating alone," he said.

"Then what did you do before we met?" she asked, and buried her spoon into the bowl of fruit. "Did you fast?" Lyrr winked, then chuckled.

"I certainly didn't eat in bed!" he grinned. "No, actually I usually ate in the mess hall or the officers lounge - I still do when you're working or when you haven't got time for me in the mornings." He started to eat.

Lyrr gaped at him, appearing playfully indignant. "When have I not got time for you?" she replied. "I have time... It's just that mornings are often hectic." It was a weak explanation, and Lyrr covered it up by taking in a mouthful of cream-dipped fruit. She chewed slowly and gazed into her bowl instead of at T'Kal.

"Yeah, I know...you're the XO, so I can't expect you to spend every morning with me." He smiled. "It would be nice though. You haven't made time for a game of Springball this week at all." He looked at the way her eyes avoided his. "You working sixteen hour shifts every day doesn't help...but that's your duty. When you think about it - we only have mornings together, otherwise we don't get enough sleep. Being on the Bridge with you all day and watching you without being able to say anything...." He grinned. "It's hard...and I'm not going to send you messages through your terminal. I'll leave that to wayward Ensigns." He took a swallow of tea.

Lyrr smiled wanly, and found herself more interested in stirring the fruit idly instead of eating it. "It bothers you that I work so much, especially because the choice to do so is mine." Her dark brown eyes, their brightness now dimming, glanced up at him once more. "I'm messing up," she whispered, "aren't I?"

He stopped eating and put down his fork. Looking at her he gave her a smile. "One of the reasons I stopped pulling double shifts was to spend some time with you. I figured once we were into the Gamma Quadrant, with all the work-ups and the drills done, we'd settle down to a more even routine. Pushing yourself to work sixteen hours a day every single day is going to burn you out. There's no time for you let alone us. Salinger has to be in the same boat - it's normal for this to happen in a shakedown. The Sulu hasn't been commissioned long, so I expect until it starts running smoothly this might continue. You should consider pulling alternate double shifts with Salinger so that you both get some free time. It's bad for crew morale to have the senior officers looking over their shoulders sixteen hours a day because they don't trust them enough to work normal hours." He grinned. "I can put up with it for a while."

She took note of the warning appended to the end of his statement, veiled by his charming smile. "I see," she muttered, and set down her spoon. Sighing, Lyrr propped her elbows onto the table and laced her fingers together, then rested her forehead against her folded hands in a pensive pose. She remained that way for some time, before she spoke again, quietly. "It's in the back of my mind, always - the conflict between duty and my relationship with you. In everything I do, every decision I make, there's always this nagging doubt that I'm making the wrong one because I've let my feelings for you interfere with my objectivity." Lyrr was silent for a moment, then raised her head and regarded T'Kal. "I've thought about cutting down on the number of shifts to be with you...but the fear stops me. What will people think or say if I trade duty for more time with you?"

He sat back, the smile still on his face. "On every other ship I've served on, the Second Officer - usually the Operations Manager pulls their share of the Command shifts for Beta and Gamma. Command rotations for Bridge qualified officers - like me help to distribute the load. You shouldn't actually be working sixteen hours a day, every single day. You have to ease up - because sooner rather than later you're going to be too tired to function effectively. You know that - it's basic command school decision-making 101. Salinger needs to ease up - and so do you! It will be good for the crew to know that they are trusted enough to be left to do their jobs, and they too will be happier that their commanders are getting the sleep time required to allow them to make the right decisions when they need to be made. No one will think it in the slightest odd that you work a standard shift, say, three days out of seven. It's not trading duty, Tayla - that's what a command structure is for. Sam should be getting command experience - he's Bridge qualified too. I don't mind pulling a Beta or a Gamma command shift to give you some time alone either."

He sighed. "You know there isn't a conflict between us and duty. I know you will do what you need to - and I'll make sure you do too - I won't let your duty suffer because of me. But thinking that spending time with me that you deserve and is normal is contrary to duty is wrong. Living on a Starfleet vessel is a twenty-four hour job - we both know it. If anything happens there's always plenty of time to get to the Bridge - and good officers serving on the Bridge to begin with. Both you and Salinger have to start trusting your senior crew to help pull the load. That said - I don't ever want to see Tagliesh in the Big Chair!" he grinned.

He achieved a laugh in response, and Lyrr slid her hand across the table to cover his. "I'll talk to the captain, then, and arrange something. I don't want you to think I'm neglecting you because I know there are plenty of women aboard this vessel who would gladly give you the attention you crave if I fail to."

Benedict laughed and gripped her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You know how I feel about you. You're my Number One." He grinned at the pun. "Though I must admit I've spent more time with Shirik this week than you - not counting sleeping that is. She's joined me on my morning run a couple times. I'd rather spend the time with you though...if I can drag you out of bed for it once you have a normal shift."

"Well, you never asked," she told him with a wan smile. "Just ask next time. Okay?"

His face brightened considerably. "Okay - then consider me asking - I just didn't want to wake you, seeing as we haven't gotten to sleep until one or two in the morning lately, and with the sixteen hour shifts...it would have been grossly unfair of me. That would have affected your duty. And until you make those arrangements with the captain...getting you out of bed at oh-four-forty is out of the question. I can still run and meet you for a Springball game at oh-six hundred if you like, then we can have breakfast together and go to shift."

Lyrr chuckled. "Now who's being efficient?" Patting his hand, Lyrr pushed back her chair and rose. "I'll go shower, then we can get going." She moved around the table to kiss his cheek briefly, but paused to whisper, "And don't forget to brush your hair."

He grinned and grabbed her, dragging her on to his lap for a lingering kiss. When their lips parted he smiled and brushed a finger along her cheek. "You know that you're the most important part of my life, don't you?" he asked her softly. "We'll make this work. I know we will." He kissed her again and let her go. "Hurry up...or I'll be forced to come in there and scrub your back."

She smiled down at him as she gave her heartbeat time to settle; one look from him alone could manage to steal her breath. "I'll be back," she whispered, then left him at the table and hoped he would make good on his threat.

***

"Presentable," he said as he kissed her. He stepped back and grinned, looking her up and down. She was dressed as he in a Class A uniform. She looked good. Her eyes were shining again and he liked that. "Ready to go?" he asked. They'd make it just in time for shift commencement.

"Well, it's not like I have any other plans this morning..." Smiling warily at his mildly lustful gaze, she added, "Although I imagine you do." Slipping past him, but ensuring they brushed up against one another, Lyrr headed out of their bedroom. "You cleaned," she called back to him when she spotted the cleared table, sounding impressed and surprised.

"Equal share of labour, Love." He walked out after her, giving her a smile and a once over look around the quarters. He hated mess, and it seemed so did she. It made for a comfortable arrangement - he didn't need to pick up after her and she didn't have to berate him for leaving his things strewn around. Everything had a place and he liked it when it was stowed ship-shape.

Their quarters seemed more like home now. His swords were on a rack against the wall, the large Dai-Katana and the Katana sat in front of the watercolour tiger on the wall. The black and gold Bat'leth that he'd been given on Q'Onos was on one side of the painting and Tebrianne's Scottish Claymore on the other. The beautiful blue and silver kimono he'd bought in Japan was displayed on another wall. His guitar stood in the corner.

His black lacquered table was now in the living area along with the cushions, though a formal dining table and chairs decorated the dining area. Tayla's quilted throw rug was over the sofa and her glass sculpture sat on the black table, the earthy tones of Bajoran culture dominated. The boring painting was gone - in its place was a replicated work of art by a well known Bajoran artist showing a mountain scene - it was serene and full of purples and earth tones.

He stopped before the door. "I wonder what they'd say if we showed up on the Bridge holding hands?" he asked playfully - knowing full well that that was one thing they would never do.

"There would certainly no longer be any skeptics left, that's for sure." As they stood abreast to one another, Tayla gazed up at Benedict, wearing a curiously bemused smile. "I have no doubts about us, Ben, not anymore." She wound her arm around his and clasped his hand. "Just until we reach the bridge." Lyrr indicated their linked hands with a nod, and her smile brightened.

He laughed - taken by surprise by her ready show of their relationship. He squeezed her hand and nodded. Telling him that she had no doubts and willing to show their affection in public was a significant change for her. He looked into her eyes and his smile showed how much that admission meant to him. It was a public declaration that they were together. He finally understood why Salinger and Tagliesh had taken that step at the Risan party. It was something that had to be done. It was necessary - and unavoidable.

"You don't know how much saying that means to me." He raised her hand in his and kissed her knuckles and then leaned in to give her a gentle kiss and a hug.

With that they walked out of their quarters hand in hand.

***

It seemed the moment they decided to step out into the corridor on Deck 3, so did a flood of other officers, who instantly zeroed in on Ben and Lyrr. She sighed at the tactless displays of some who turned to the officer beside them to stir up new gossip, and others who simply gawked and smiled knowingly as they passed. Lyrr remained firm in her resolve and gripped Ben's hand tighter, despite the urge to surreptitiously pull it away. The ship was full of imbeciles as far as she was concerned.

"I had no idea we were so popular," she muttered.

He just grinned and returned the grip as they stepped into a turbolift with several others. "Bridge," he said and held her hand in both of his as he leaned against the lift wall. He looked into her eyes and disregarded the stares at their linked hands. "I guess I'll wait up for you," he said casually with a grin. "Comm me when you have your meal break and I'll join you in the Lounge. I have a load of reports to catch up on and some reading to do after shift."

Lyrr's gaze shifted distractedly to the others, furtively watching them from the periphery of her vision. She nodded absently in acknowledgement of T'Kal's statement. The lift halted on Deck 2, and a couple of officers filed out, leaving still two more inside with them. She felt cramped and her chest constricted, and knew it for the anxiety she thought she'd never experience outside of an emergency situation or battle. It was disconcerting, and Lyrr thought the scrutiny would never cease.

He noticed her discomfort and as the lift started again to deck one and the Bridge he slid their hands casually behind him and let it go, just brushing his fingers against the back of her hand. As the lift started to decellerate he stood upright and tugged his jacket straight with both hands. He gave her a surreptitious wink as he waved her ahead of him, making sure that she was first out of the doors. He made sure that his gaze didn't stray to her rear as she walked in front and he walked directly to Tactical, giving Taylor Bennett a grin and nod as he relieved her from the station. His peripheral vision tracked Tayla as she took her seat in the command well and his smile remained for most of his shift, as did the imperceptible one Lyrr tried to suppress for the duration of hers.

---

"The Hidden Laboratory (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part 2)"
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Science Officer
Lieutenant (jg) Taylor Bennett; Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor

Location: Shuttle La Grange; The Hidden Laboratory
Stardate: 57908.18 06h40

***

The dawn was an orange band on the gray horizon as the shuttle dropped through the atmosphere and came within visual range of the mountains. Jagged and forbidding, the barren rocks loomed larger and larger as the shuttle descended. Vijay slide slipped the 'Grange expertly into a river canyon, following Tagliesh's map to the sensor void.

Obviously enjoying himself with the La Grange's flight controls as they weaved back and forth between rocky outcroppings in the deep riverbed channel.

"Our objective should be around the next bend," Sanat said to no one in particular as the shuttle rounded a promontory point.

"Well there's something you don't see every day," Farrell said softly.

Towering before them was the end of the canyon. A waterfall, several hundred meters high, fed the stream below. To one side of the falls, jutting from the sheer rock face was an obvious landing pad before a pair of obvious security doors.

The waterfall was visually stunning and Ainsley attempted to get a good look at it. She couldn't from her seat in the back so she decided she'd look when they got out of the ship.

"Can we get a scan of the pad for structural integrity?" Farrell asked, half-turning to find Tagliesh again.

She nodded, and switched to a deeper scan. "No evidence of subsurface stress fractures," she reported. "Foundation looks solid. We should be able to land safely."

Slowing the shuttle's forward momentum to stabilize it before beginning ascent, the half human pilot remarked, "There's bound to be some turbulent air on the way up. I suggest everyone hang on."

"Here we go," Xay muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Cristobel Sefton instinctively leaned back against the bulkhead and grabbed hold of the seating beneath him for support.

The ride was somewhat bumpy on the way up, but Vijay gave it little consideration while his passengers braced themselves in a variety of ways to lesson their chances of tumbling onto the cold deck plating. He hummed an old rock tune to himself as they ascended rapidly to the rocky landing pad.

Within seconds the shuttle was perched on the landing pad with its engines quickly growing silent. Sanat secured the craft's flight controls by typing in a simple algorithmic code to ensure no one came behind them and tampered with their ride back home. He swiveled his chair around and waited for the others to make their way out of the slowly opening hatch.

Xayella was at the head of the pack with Ensign Farrell, and already her tricorder was raised, taking readings. "Everyone look," she called out, "but try not to touch. If this is a protected facility of some kind, there could still be a security system active."

Beginning his passive monitoring of the away team on his medical tricorder, Sefton almost asked, 'What kind of Starfleet officer would be stupid enough to touch unknown technology, when a tricorder can reveal more than mere tactile sensing?' Having not been privy to Xayella's button pushing on the initial away team, he only supposed Xay's response would have been a contemptuous, 'You are,' and so he kept quiet as he followed down the ramp.

Ainsley nodded at the order and followed everyone down onto the landing pad. She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. The falls were even more stunning up close and the sound of the water cascading so close to them was loud enough that everyone had to raise their voice a little. After a moment she forced herself to look back down at the others, no one else was gawking up at the sights and she didn't want to look too much like the away team newbie that she actually was.

Farrell was doing his own scan of the keypad next to the doors. He knelt and unzipped his toolkit, produced a bolt-driver, and commenced pulling the face from the keypad, revealing the wiring and circuitry beneath.

The pilot casually walked up behind the others while Mason worked on an antiquated locking mechanism with a quaint electrical-mechanical keypad. He watched with a mild curiosity now that his desire to fly had been temporarily sated.

"Wow, wiring," Farrell said. "These people were a little behind." He checked his scan. "It's still powered," Farrell said. "Maybe they're using the waterfall somehow." He glanced back and forth from his tricorder to the door circuitry, and after a minute set up a simple bridge circuit. The door opened, the hydraulic gears protesting their period of disuse.

Xayella's tricorder came to life. Cautiously she moved towards the opening, panning her instrument around the darkened corridor awaiting them. "Nothing...yet," she whispered to match the ominous setting.

Farrell rose from where he knelt in front of the keypad and peeked around the corner. He glanced at Vijay, who glanced back and shrugged. Both men took a step into the wide corridor beyond the door.

The telltale pitches of a transporter accompanied the blue-white vortex as a figure coalesced onto the pad next to the shuttle. Farrell half-pulled his phaser, but put it away when he realized what was happening.

As the vortex faded, it left behind Taylor Bennett, who quickly took stock of the situation and turned to face Lieutenant Tagliesh. "Lieutenant," she said with a nod. "The powers that be are disappointed that a security officer was not part of your team."

Sanat offered her a small smile as she approached them. He liked the security officer's pleasant personality and easygoing attitude.

"One was supposed to be," Xayella riposted. "That is, if you'd bothered to show up on time."

"No disrespect intended, Lieutenant, however no such request was made by you or anyone on your team. I am certain the captain will be happy to search the computer logs to verify that you did request a security officer for the team, but both he and Commander T'Kal are extremely upset over this incident. If you made the request, then it never got processed through the ship's computer. It's not often the captain uses the terms irresponsible or disappointed. Sir."

"Never got our request?" Xayella turned to Farrell with a feigned look of perplexity. "We sent that out the minute the captain cleared us, didn't we, Ensign?" At his nod, she regarded Taylor once more, still appearing perturbed. "We never received acknowledgement, but we just assumed that was the way Commander T'Kal's department was run. Chalk it up to another computer malfunction, Lieutenant, and get to work."

"Of course, Lieutenant," Taylor said. "However, Captain Salinger asked me to relay the message that you are ordered to go directly to the observation lounge for a debriefing with himself and Commander T'Kal as soon as this mission is finished. I am certain you can speak with him then about the lack of response to your request."

"Well, alright then," Farrell cut in before Tagliesh could unload some real venom. "Ens--excuse me. Lieutenant Bennett, I presume," he nodded politely to the pretty Vulcan, his twang turning the formality into something more friendly and open. "Ensign Farrell, Operations. Pleased to meet you."

Taylor gave him a cool nod of acknowledgement, noting the not-accidental use of her old rank. "I doubt that, Ensign Farrell," she said. "But, I'm here regardless."

"Introductions all around," he continued, indicating each of the team members in turn. "Ensign Sefton, Medical. Ensign Chambers, Counseling. You know the good Lieutenant already it would appear. And Ensign Vijay, Flight."

Taylor nodded to Vijay and Sefton, the two she knew on the team. She could only hope that Sanat and Cristobel didn't support Ensign Farrell and Lieutenant Tagliesh's disrespect for the captain and commander, and authority in general. She could only wonder if the captain knew how flagrantly Lieutenant Tagliesh flaunted that when she wasn't in his presence. She placed the emotions she was feeling behind a mask of stoicism and focused herself for the mission ahead of her.

Sanat nodded back to Taylor as she surveyed the away team. The half Vulcan could surmise that with all the open hostility, it was going to be a long day. Sanat almost regretted leaving the La Grange momentarily, but opted to remain quiet while the others bickered.

Ainsley was quickly coming to the conclusion that everyone on the away mission needed counseling. She wondered how this mission was going to accomplish anything with everyone being so snarky with each other. She'd never actually met Lt. Tagliesh before now and had always assumed that the rumors had been exaggerated; now she could see that she was the one who'd been mistaken.

"Well, if that's settled, let's go exploring, shall we?" Farrell said, smiling mischievously and jerking a thumb down the open passage.

As the team began walking, Cristobel held his position until he was at the back of the group, and started walking alongside Taylor. He confided, "On the shuttle ride down, I began to realize that it's best to occasionally tune everything out, and focus on the mantra, 'Make sure they don't die. Make sure they don't die.' It might work for you too."

"Thanks," Taylor said with a smile. "It's not easy working somewhere I'm not liked because of what my job is and who I work with. At least there are some friendly faces here."

"Perhaps we'll save some lives, and turn the surly faces into grins of gratitude," Cristobel offered optimistically. Even quieter he continued, "Or we'll fail in our duty and... well... we still won't have to deal with anymore surly sass."

The wide corridor led a few meters into the cliff face before opening onto a broad chamber. Parked at the mouth of the corridor was an alien forklift, a tiny pilot's seat appended to what looked like a cargo box. Half a dozen rows of glass cases and laboratory tables filled the space, raised platforms overhead containing what looked like private offices with glassed walls.

"No security checkpoint?" Farrell wondered aloud. "We just walk right in?"

"What would they need security for? This looks like it was a secret place," Ainsley said. "Who would be coming by unannounced or uninvited?"

"Wouldn't a security checkpoint be as well-hidden as the rest of the base?" Cristobel surmised flippantly. "Probably arming itself to kill us all violently, if Lieutenant Tagliesh doesn't suss out where it's at."

"Good thing our security got here, then," Farrell quipped, giving Bennett a teasing smile that she did not return. She arched an eyebrow, but made no further comment, other than to fix Farrell with a cool glare before turning her attention back to Lieutenant Tagliesh.

Well...it seems we are one big happy family, doesn't it? Vijay's mind noted while observing both Mason's and Taylor's interplay. It was as clear as the greed on a Ferengi's face when shown a full bar of Latinum, that she was not all that fond of the man from Texas. Vijay's lips curled into a small frown upon wondering what had caused this particular schism.

"Surprising," Xay announced, focusing her tricorder on one console in particular, "but there's power still being fed into these stations. I guess someone thought it was mightily important to keep this place up and running at all times."

"Should we split up and check the place out in pairs?" Farrell suggested. "Some of us can check the offices," he indicated the overlooking rooms flanking the main chamber. "And some can check out the main floor here."

"Agreed," Xay nodded, and forked her middle and index fingers as she pointed to sets of two officers. "Vijay and Bennett, check for other rooms in this place, other labs..." Her fingers honed in on Farrell and Cristobel. "You two, do the same but take the left side of the building." As she turned her attention to the next two officers, she frowned at the sole one left. "Chambers...you're with me. We'll stay down here and see if there's anything of interest. The rest of you, move out!"

---

"This Looks Like A Clue (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part 3)"
By: Lieutenant (jg) Taylor Bennett; Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer

Location: The Hidden Laboratory
Stardate: 57908.18 07h19

***

As Taylor led the way with her tricorder set in a passive scanning mode, she glanced behind her to Vijay. In the silence of the empty lab, their boot heels rang loud against the floor. Normally it would have bothered her, but since the planet seemed to be devoid of life, it didn't seem to make much difference.

He hurried to catch up with her. Moving alongside and matching Taylor's pace, Sanat pulled out his tricorder and began recording everything the pair saw in their search for clues.

The corridor opened into a larger area. The outer walls appeared to be lined with offices, while the interior seemed to contain a large, communal workspace.

Taylor looked to Sanat once more, and gave him a grin. "Left or right?"

The pilot returned her smile; his voice held a hint of mirth in it as he asked, "Should we decide this logically? Or should we use a much more sophisticated method?" When she didn't immediately answer, Vijay held up one hand gesturing, and said, "What's your pleasure? Rock-paper-scissors, or eenie, meenie, minie, moe?"

"Why don't we just head right?" Taylor asked with a grin.

Sanat nodded while smiling back at her. They turned right and went into a set of small offices clustered together.

The first couple offices yielded no results. The third door, however, seemed to be much more promising. As it opened, the lights flickered on, revealing what appeared to be a larger meeting room. Along the far wall, large sheets of charts, graphs and diagrams lined open areas of the wall. Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not much of a scientist," she said, "but that looks important, and...scientific."

Slowly advancing with his tricorder in the video capture mode, Vijay studied several of the charts as he circumvented the room, recording everything. "Yes...I believe you're right. These charts appear to document growth, perhaps tracking progress of some important project."

"They look very thorough," Taylor said as she studied them. She pointed to another series of charts. "Maps with information overlaid."

"And these seem to be comparison graphs of the planet's different geographic localities," Sanat remarked as he walked casually over to a large table overflowing with different types of collated records.

"Someone was certainly busy," Taylor said as she continued along the wall.

With an arched eyebrow, the flight controller rifled through the assorted reams of documents trying to discern which ones looked the most important. "Yes, so it would seem. You really think this is related to our problem?"

"Hard to say," she answered. "It would be a strong coincidence if it were, though... Given what happened to them here, I think it is very possible. You've got captures? I don't think they'd be very happy on the ship, even if it solved the problem, if we were to take them all."

"Take them all?" Vijay asked incredulously as though his sharp Vulcan ears had misinterpreted Bennett's statement.

"Well, no," Taylor answered with a laugh. "Just images. We can check with Lieutenant Tagliesh about what to actually do with them though. Hopefully the information we did gather will be sufficient."

He nodded. "Hopefully."

---

"A Map! (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part 4)"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Science Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor

Location: The Hidden Laboratory
Stardate: 57908.18 07h20

***

"So," Xay said off-topic, waving her tricorder over one station in particular, "I hear you and Ensign Farrell are an item." She smiled over her shoulder at the counselor. "Is he good?"

Ainsley was taken aback for a moment. What kind of question was that? With a slight smile she said, "Yes. Yes he is." She mentally shrugged to herself; Tagliesh hadn't actually specified what she was referring to him being good at. Mason was good at a lot of things. He was an excellent kisser and an excellent dancer, just to name a couple. Without saying anything else she pulled her tricorder out and began to study it.

Nodding appreciatively, Xayella turned her gaze to a circular platform protruding from one side of the station. Around the top was an interface with raised sigils much like those found on the consoles in the computer core. She furtively glanced aside at Ainsley as she compulsively began depressing them. "And...how long have you been with Farrell again?" she asked nonchalantly. "And this is an exclusive relationship, right?"

Ainsley looked up from her tricorder at Xayella. "Umm..." she replied, her brow creasing as she wondered what exactly the other woman was getting at. "Yes," she continued, stretching out the word a bit while trying to figure out what else to say. "Yes, it is an exclusive relationship."

Xayella chuckled lowly to herself, delighted that she could so easily unnerve such a delicate creature. The laughter transformed into a surprised yelp as one of the buttons around the platform triggered a rising hum within it. The outer rim of the circle grew alight with a soft blue glow as power fed into it; for the sake of caution, Xayella stepped away and took constant readings with her tricorder. "Well..." she told Ainsley, "I don't think it's going to detonate."

"That's always a good thing," Ainsley said, backing away a little bit as well.

As the two of them studied their tricorders the lights extended into a three-foot tall translucent cylinder, filling it with light and making it look like a column of pure blue light. After a moment Ainsley noticed there were some sort of three-dimensional pictures floating around the circumference of the cylinder. They looked like balls clustered together with thin lines attaching them to one another. "Those look like molecules of some sort," Ainsley said, pointing towards them. Above them were some other symbols. Nothing that she could recognize but it was obvious to her what it was. "That looks like writing up there. Almost Hebraic."

"Those are definitely molecules," Xayella muttered absently. She moved in to scan the field and make a visual log of the projections. "Could be a teaching aid," she thought aloud. "Or for reference..."

"Could be either of those," Ainsley agreed and looked down at her tricorder and got an idea. She punched a few buttons to get her tricorder to compare what they were seeing in front of them with the periodic table that was now on the screen in her hand. It took only a couple minutes and then the tricorder beeped and told her what she wanted to know.

She turned to Xayella. "What we are seeing is a near copy of the periodic table that was used on Earth circa 2150."

Xayella nodded pensively, giving the counselor some credit for her deductive abilities. "I'm going to try and access more of their files. This is obviously a lab of some kind." She set down her tricorder, positioning it to face the rotating images as it continued recording. "Let me know if anything changes," Xay told Ainsley once she was standing over the console and randomly depressing buttons.

Ainsley looked nervously at the other woman for a moment; she wasn't sure that it was safe for her to be pressing any old button that she felt like pressing, then she turned her attention back to images. Nothing happened for a bit but then the images started to change. "Hey, something's changing here."

Looking up, Xayella studied the new images, recognizing immediately what they were. "Those are prokaryotes - viral is my educated guess." Unthinking, Xayella found herself drifting closer to the projection as her interest was piqued. "Dr. Sefton should look at this..." she muttered.

"Why?" Ainsley asked, watching the images to see if she could find anything out from them.

"Because," Xayella replied, slightly irritated with the obtuse counselor, "the pathogen affecting the Sulu is a virus. That" --she thrust a finger towards the hologram-- "is a virus. If they are one and the same, we might just be closer to figuring out how to stop it." Ignoring Ainsley, Xay tapped her combadge. "Tagliesh to Farrell."

"Farrell here."

"Ensign, I've got something up here you might wish to see." Xayella grinned at the revolving molecules. "Up for a good slideshow?"

A pause from the other end. Then, "Great, sir. Can we catch up to you when we finish here?"

Xayella sighed airily and rolled her eyes. "Fine...but hurry it up. This place has a chill to it. Tagliesh out." She looked to Ainsley, who was still peering at the projection. "Your boyfriend's coming." Xay smirked and, too, returned her attention to the floating molecules. "Don't worry," she told them, staring them down, "you'll be dead soon enough."

Ainsley gazed up at the writing that scrolled along with the symbols. "What are those?" she said lowly to herself. The words were staying with the symbols as they scrolled along, but they were too short to be any sort of description. It was more then likely names for what they were seeing, or possibly titles.

"We need to translate this writing," Ainsley said to Tagliesh. She grabbed her tricorder again and coordinated with the computer in the shuttle to decode the lettering.

---

"The Secret Passage (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part 5)"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Science Officer
Lieutenant (jg) Taylor Bennett; Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor

Location: The Hidden Laboratory
Stardate: 57908.18 07h21

***

The desk was a modernistic creation of burnished steel of clear polymer. The chair behind was pushed neatly to the desk, the countertop clear and uncluttered.

"What's wrong with this picture?" Farrell asked.

"The others were more typical of an engineer's or scientist's office: all of the half-thoughts and partial-ideas displayed and discarded onto every surface of the room. This one's completely sterile and empty. Like... a counselor's office? Going for neutrality instead of..." Cristobel circled the circumference of the office, spiraling into towards the desk. His narrative of his thoughts was paused by opening an empty drawer, followed by another empty drawer, and another. Utter uselessness."

"A fake office?" Farrell mused aloud. "Why?"

"All we know is that it's empty and was probably unoccupied," Sefton reminded Farrell grimly. "Maybe there were too few personnel."

"Maybe," Farrell nodded. "But in a secret installation? I don't know. Hey, can I ask you something unrelated to this office?"

"Always," Cristobel sprightly assured.

"What did I say to irritate Bennett? Was it the rank thing?"

Sefton's gaze shot to the ceiling for a moment, as he recalled Bennett's emotional responses, and then he looked to Farrell to assent, "Definitely; she doesn't deserve ire for serving under T'Kal. But, it was even more about being Lieutenant Tagliesh's enabler."

"Enabler?" Farrell asked, rubbing the back of his neck dejectedly. "Really? I'm coming off as a sycophant here?"

"Not generally," Cristobel assured him immediately. "But in that one particular off-putting moment, you just might have been wearing a studded collar attached to a chain in Tagliesh's hand. I don't think Ainsley noticed."

Farrell made a pained face at the image and gave a disappointed grunt. "A collar and chain?"

Cristobel's only defense was a pained, "Metaphorical," in a 'what's the big deal?' tone of voice. He wasn't pained by the image, of course; Farrell's surprising white-bread-ness was what mildly irritated Cris.

"Right, I get the metaphor," Farrell said. "But I honestly forgot that she'd been promoted. I haven't seen her for weeks. She's on a different shift. Why am I so defensive about this?" He added, stopping himself and looking introspectively at the wall.

"Because she was wearing two pips?" Cristobel muttered, his transparent quip clearly articulating how much less of a clue he had to Farrell's defensiveness.

"Nah," Farrell said absently. "I accepted when I came aboard that I wasn't going to get re-promoted any time soon. My LJG goal is the age of 40," he chuckled dryly. "No, I'm just on edge today."

"Consummately understandable," Sefton offered contritely, after his earlier flippancy. "Considering what we all have to look forward to, once we return to the ship."

"Yeah," Farrell affirmed. "Say," he asked, perking slightly, "can you send a message to Bennett?"

"I possess the ability," Cris said.

"Across that kind of distance?" Farrell wondered absently. "Through a wall?"

"Probably," Sefton nodded and shrugged. "Not that she has the capability to receive it. ...Unless you're talking about combadges."

"Oh, right," Farrell said, remembering. "It takes training to receive a telepathic message. I'll have to have you teach me how to do that someday."

"Someday," Cristobel promised with a grin on his face, but his tone weighted by the ongoing crises in their lives.

"Someday," Farrell repeated, nodding as he looked around the room. Frowning then, he stepped to the glass wall and looked out over the main chamber. Tagliesh and Chambers had their heads together, hovering over a computer display, but he wasn't looking at them. "Hey. This virus thing incapacitates pretty quickly after onset, right?"

"Once the first physical symptoms manifest themselves, the following symptoms do follow swiftly at an increasing rate..."

"So what's wrong with this picture?" Farrell asked, nodding his head out the window.

"No one died there. There aren't any corpses here. Not anywhere in the facility thus far," Cristobel said in befuddlement. He dropped into the office's only chair and held his palms over the desk. "If I were a brilliant scientific mind attempting to prevent the death of all my people -- which I probably will be eventually -- I wouldn't just quit or leave my sprawling research facility. I mean, I'd probably have my family brought to me so I don't have to die alone, but I wouldn't stop working until my lungs collapsed and filled with blood." A slight unevenness in the floor, and Cristobel's emphatic hand gesturing, caused the chair to slowly roll away from the desk. It picked up speed just before the back of the chair collided into a wall, which sounded a computerized chirp.

"What was that?" Cris asked of the sound.

"Good question," Farrell frowned. "Maybe you should--"

Planting his booted feet firmly on the floor, Cristobel sat forward to roll the chair an inch away from the wall, and then pushed back roughly, jarring himself and causing another computer-chip in the process. "What. Is. That. Sound?" Cristobel asked, each word punctuated with a larger jerk of his body backwards, to bang the chair into the wall, sounding additional chirps every time. Farrell rubbed his forehead in a mix of frustration and amusement. As Cris thrust the chair forward several inches to build up extra momentum, a tall rectangular panel of the wall retracted, and as he threw all his weight into pushing the chair backwards, the chair tumbled through the opening, spilling Cristobel onto the floor of the newly revealed corridor.

"I'll have to remember that for next time," Farrell drawled, offering Cris a hand. "Just bang a chair into it 'til it gives."

"Don't forget the falling down part," Cristobel instructed, once he took Mason's hand and jumped up to his feet. "That's what pulls the whole plan together."

Farrell took a few steps down the corridor as Cris finished straightening himself up. "Well, I reckon we--" he was interrupted by his combadge.

"Tagliesh to Farrell."

"Farrell here."

"Ensign, I've got something here you might wish to see," said Tagliesh. "Up for a good slideshow?"

Farrell covered his combadge and looked at Sefton. "Want to see her show," he said, then nodded down the new corridor, "or should we stall?"

"Sounds like someone couldn't follow her own 'don't touch anything' rule," Cristobel muttered lowly. Switching to decisive, he swung a pointed finger towards the other end of the corridor and said, "I'd like to find out what I risked cracking the back of my skull over."

Farrell nodded with a grin that said he was thinking the same thing. "Great, sir. Can we catch up to you when we finish here?"

Xayella was heard sighing airily. "Fine...but hurry it up. This place has a chill to it. Tagliesh out."

Farrell activated his handlamp and directed the beam down the corridor. "Let's see how far down this rabbithole goes."

"Uhm... Yeah," Cris blurted, while confused but eventually supposing 'rabbithole' to be some sort of Texanism.

The corridor opened into another laboratory. Broad tanks and isochambers dominated the room, clear cases with remote controlled armatures standing mute guard over row upon row of petri dishes.

"I think I liked the façade lab better than the useful lab," Cristobel pouted mostly to himself. Slumped over computer terminals, or heaped on the floor from where they once stood, the lab's deceased scientists continued to decompose. Consulting his medical tricorder, Sefton reported, "No sign of the active virus on the corpses or in the air."

"Worked until they dropped," Farrell added absently, putting away his handlamp, as the lights were still on in here. "Poor bastards."

Ensign Sefton shifted his tricorder's sensors towards the lab's computer terminals, to search for active files or data warehouse access - anything to tell them more about the virus or computer system glitches.

"Looks like they were actively culturing," Farrell said, moving among the rows, scanning.

"That's the virus," Cristobel remarked with startled raucousness. He looked up from his tricorder to the computer terminal that was accessing the virus files. "...But... the tricorder's having difficulty interfacing with the system's interface. There are a number of related files that I can't..."

"Plug in manually," Farrell shrugged.

"No way," Cris replied.

"Wuss," Farrell said, smiling michievously.

Cristobel scoffingly insisted, "I'm not touching this." He punctuated his last word with a stab of his index finger to the computer's monitor screen - carefully avoiding the adjacent control buttons. Satisfied that his point was made, Cris glanced towards the monitor, and his shoulders quickly drooped. "Oh, hell." A luminescent impression of Cristobel's fingerprint glowed where Cris had touched the monitor.

"Biometric security," Cristobel painfully-guiltily supposed. The computers didn't appear to lock-down, as he expected, though. "Which seems to have a glitch of its own. That's almost a poetical iron--" Sefton's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to his knees on his way to crumpling to the floor.

Farrell had stopped listening after 'glitch', looking to the ceiling to try and determine the location of a mysterious hiss. He heard Cris' tricorder clatter on the floor, and took one muzzy step toward the prone Betazoid before losing his balance and his footing. He dully registered the impact of his head against a table, his shoulder against a chair, and his body against the floor before everything went dark.

***

Sanat continued looking under items on the table trying to locate some digital media they could take back to the ship. It would be much more useful than the paper records strewn about here.

Taylor Bennett set her tricorder back into a passive scan while she checked the recordings of all the charts and displays she'd just recorded for later study aboard the ship. She turned to Sanat, frowning as her sensitive ears picked up a gentle hissing coming from somewhere near the walls.

An alarm sounded on her tricorder, and her hand immediately went to her communicator.

"Bennett to--"

To who? To...the away team certainly, but... Why was it so difficult to think? She turned to Sanat again, and started to say something, when she noticed that the room seemed considerably darker, and the air much heavier.

"This isn't good," she said, though it came out closer to, "Fish shasn't poot."

When the room began to spin, her body made the decision, completely without her consent, that remaining upright was an option it was no longer able to offer. And, with that, her tricorder clattered to the floor with her body following a short nanosecond later.

"Taylor?" He tried to catch her, but whatever was hissing out into the room made the pilot move as if he was performing a parody of slow motion often seen in old movies. And the closer he got to Bennett, the more effort it took to walk.

By the time he reached her, his tricorder slipped from his grasp and bounced around to land somewhere out of sight. Sanat went down on one knee trying to stave off the effects of whatever was poisoning them. He managed to tap his combadge, and sputter, V...ija...y...to...Awa..." before passing out face first at Taylor's feet.

***

Drumming her fingers on the top of the console, Xayella watched Ainsley inspecting the rest of the room while the computer deciphered the alien language. "Thinking of your man?" she asked with a grin.

"Hmm?" Ainsley asked, turning to Xay. "He's always on my mind in some way," she answered with a little grin. "What about you?" Her grin widening. "Thinking about your..."

Suddenly there was a hissing sound that cut her off. "What's that?"

Xayella frowned. "I don't know. Probably--" Her mouth stopped in mid-sentence and her eyes rolled back before Xayella Tagliesh slumped over the console, then crumpled to the ground.

Ainsley had a flash of panic as she was struck with the thought that she was going to die on her first away mission. Then she thought nothing.

---

"Federation Founders vs. Miss Tress & Her Minions of Many in Freedom For All"
By Ken Smith - Captain Utopia
The Adventuring Andorian
Lovar the Logical
Miss Tress & Her Minions of Many

Location: Holodeck 2, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 09h30

***

Ken Smith soared over Utopia City thanks to the adjusted gravity in holodeck 2. The blue cape bearing the image of Earth fluttered in the wind behind him. To his left Lovar the Logical gifted with mechanical genius was held aloft by his augmented anti grav units. He wore the traditional robes of Vulcans and concealed within were many many devices of his own design. On his right the Adventuring Andorian dressed in his multi pocketed adventuring clothes bounded from building to building after Lovar and Captain Utopia. They had tracked Miss Tress from the heist of the Constitution of the Federation to her secret lair in the abandoned Dilithium processing plant.

"Mr. President I demand to be named Empress of the Federation. If you do not meet my demands I shall destroy the Constitution of the Federation and all that it stands for." Miss Tress glowered into the screen.

"Miss Tress you and your minions will be declared Empress of nothing more than a Federation Penal Colony! The FF will stop you and then bring you to Justice!"

"We shall see, Mr. President, we shall see." As Miss Tress finished her rant the Federation Founders crashed through the plant's sky light. "Minions of Many Attack! Bring me the heads of the Federation Flounders!"

"Miss Tress we shall never allow you to destroy the hard work of Federation citizens!" Captain Utopia pointed an accusing finger at the evil Miss Tress. "You and your Minions of Many will surrender to us or face the consequences!"

"I shall never surrender to you and your misguided band of goody two shoes!"

The Minions of Many had surrounded the FF and began their attack. The Adventuring Andorian dispatched two of the Minion with Whip of Wonder when a third attacked from behind in a cowardly show of force. He threw the attacker off his back and into several oncoming members of the Many. "Your Minions are no match for my Whip of Wonder, Miss Tress, and soon you will the lash of Federation Justice!"

"Your attempts to the conquer the Federation are as illogical as the plot line to this holo adventure!" Lovar calmly said as he launched his Logic Bombs which sent several Minions into deep contemplation, so deep they snored.

"Lovar if I had not once shared your bed I would kill you!" Miss Tress leapt into the air and lashed out at Lovar with her stiletto boots.

Captain Utopia had been tossing Minion members into the air while the Adventure gave them a lashing until he saw Lovar in peril. He leapt into the air grabbing Miss Tress around the mid section and driving her to the ground. Pinning her arms he applied the Cuff of Justice.

"Release me at once, Utopian! Or you shall face a wrath unlike anything you have ever known!"

"I would trust her in that, Captain, remember I was once married to her." Lovar launched another set of Logic Bombs.

"I shall release you then," Captain said as he tossed Minion off of his back with one hand.

"I will make you a very happy man for this, Captain Utopia."

"Captain, that course of action is very unwise."

"To the proper authorities!" The Captain let a loud laugh escape into the abandoned plant.

"Citizen, this is no place for you! Evil doers abound!" the Adventurer called to two dark haired citizens who had somehow managed to wander into the plant.

What in seventh fleet are two citizens doing here? Ken asked himself as a Minion of many went to work on him with a 2x4. It of course bounced off. Adventuring Andorian leapt to protect the two from oncoming Minions.

"Computer freeze program." Ken had light limbduty for rest of the day; he didn't intend to waste it like he did the first two days laying in bed recovering from his injuries. Several minions and the Adventurer were locked in mid air. The two citizens walked forward toward Ken. "Computer I said freeze program."

"Holodeck 2 has already been paused, to resume please say 'resume program,' " the Computer said. The two Citizens, one male the other female affixed Ken with their completely black eyes and began to move their mouths in tandem. Whatever they were trying to communicate was just beyond the range of hearing to Ken's ears even when he strained harder. "I can't hear you, speak up."

The twosome seemed to try harder but to no avail. After a while Ken grew tired of their antics and called for an arch. "Engineering this is C1C Ken Smith in holodeck 2."

"Crewman Smith this is Chief Riley in Engineering, go ahead."

"I have a problem with holodeck 2, some kind of programming error. I am playing Federation Founders Vs. Miss Tress & her Minions of Many in Freedom for All, and I have two Citizens interrupting us. They--" Ken looked around for the two but they had vanished into thin air, or photons as the case may be. "Huh, they are gone. Chief if you would you could leave a note in case someone else complains about them."

"I will leave a Ticket for Lt. Flummux, but with all the problems that have been going on I doubt we will get a chance to check it out until the ship is back in working order."

"Thanks. Holodeck 2 out," Ken said, hoping his disappointment would put holodeck 2 to the top of the list.

After he waited for a few minutes without hearing word back he decided not to risk flying again which was the whole point of the story, to feel your stomach drop out as your soared in the air like Captain Utopia, and end up back in Sickbay. Ken he headed down to the mess hall and see what was being served. He wondered when the holodecks might be safe to use again. He hoped soon, but didn't hold his breath. The odds of him getting time again would be about as good as him getting Legionnaires #6 in mint condition.

---

"iSQ, Part 1"
By C1C Ken Smith

Location: Ken Smith's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 09h50

***

Stupid computer malfunctions, stupid holodeck with your stupid people who ruin my free time and make me not want to use you. I think at times the universe conspires against me and my plans. Well I guess I can spend the rest of my day writing letters to mom and dad, the gang from the moon, I need to send Chief an update he wanted to get out on the frontier so bad but little Crewmen like me are the only ones headed out any more. I wonder what he would say if he met Chief Case, hell he probably served with the man. I better check the new download list, I think a burst transmission cam threw the other day. Ahhh the joys of having no one to write to save for mom and dad.

The new Starfleet Times had been placed on the downloadable list and Ken had downloaded it. He had been skimming the articles looking at promotion projections. Security still looked good, as it had since security wore red shirts. He silently wondered why security promoted so well and decided in the end that he didn't want to know.

Ken chose to read the advancement lists first, skimming for any one he knew. He was surprised to find a name on the list for someone who he had known from basic training. Lab Technician Third Class, or LT3, Ken Grahams assigned to the USS Sputnik had made it. He recognized another name, Securityman 2nd class and now SM1, had made it as had his drill instructor, Geology Specialist now chief (nSQ) Vul Corite had passed the last chief's board.

Good for him, I wonder how he made chief so quickly. He has only been a first class for three years and in the Starfleet for ten years, science rates are slow but that has got to be a record for chief in the indigo field, Ken thought as he sat in his chair. It wasn't like the standard issue chairs found in most quarters, that one resided in his closet; this one on the other hand was a well padded high back faux-leather number Ken had whipped up with one of the larger replicators onboard. The two chairs switched places for inspections since locked closets were not subject to inspections without a warrant. That's odd... What is that next to his name: nSQ. Huh...I should find out I suppose.

Running a quick scan in the computer database Ken got results related to ... The Socialist ideal and its success in a replicator-equipped society by Dr. Pete Carls, PhD Economics. That is not what I wanted. Damn computer malfunctions, I hope they get that fixed soon. Ok let's try this again and work with me this time, computer.

Ahhh there we go. Nebula Starship Qualification, nSQ. Interesting, in an attempt to fill the void of manpower to starships the Starfleet command has authorized a new plan which will allow many starships to operate with minimal crewmembers, provide new commissioning opportunities for enlisted personnel and give them greater responsibility. It will also add fifteen percentage points to the examinations for those who complete it. The plot thickens. Huh...the program will last until the fleet has enough manpower to meet its current staffing needs. Well that's always the case during the war to many people: not enough ships. Now we have too many ships, not enough people. I wonder if...

Running a second search, he got his answer. There was a iSQ. Ken downloaded the requirements and began to read over them. Cross train in all major departments; Flight Control, Science, Engineering, Medical, and Operations, meet all basic requirements to stand a watch in those departments, and have a department head sign off in all, except for Flight control which only requires a certified flight officer to get that portion signed off on. Well I know a flight officer, I bet he could help me get it signed off, I mean really I have been trained to pilot a shuttle.... Ken be honest with yourself...yes yes yes I flew that little shuttle around the training station for a half hour just to meet the qualifications for boarding school. Well how hard could it be?

Ken queried the computer as to where a certain Ferengi was at the moment and decided that he would wait until Marp's shift was over to contact him about this.

---

"Hallucinatory Hijinks (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part 6)"
By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh; Chief Science Officer
Lieutenant j.g. Taylor Bennett; Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor

Location: The Hidden Laboratory Complex
Stardate: 57908.18 10h15

***

The ceiling. That was the first thing she saw when she woke up, a large, white ceiling stretching out above her. It wasn't a pretty ceiling, but then not many were. It was a ceiling, but not one she recognized. Where am I?

Taylor Bennett's second thought was that perhaps she'd had too much to drink and ended up in some strange bed...that did, after all, happen to be the norm for life aboard the USS Sulu. She hadn't actually slept with any of the other crewmembers aboard the Sulu, though she couldn't help thinking that she wouldn't mind if she did with Kit. He was involved though, and she wouldn't come between Kit and Amy. Though, flirting was always available.

Taylor sat up and rubbed at a small bump on the back of her head. Ouch. She pushed herself to her feet, then realized that wasn't going to work quite as well as she thought. Using a table to steady herself, she found Sanat, and quickly stumbled to his side.

Cristobel wouldn't be a bad choice either, she thought as she checked Sanat's vitals. Of course, he prefers men and is already in a relationship. Best to maintain the status quo and just focus on duty.

"Sanat," she said gently. "Sanat, time to wake up. We--" She looked around and then back to him. Something was wrong. "We have a situation. Zoinks."

"Mrfgth? Mrfgth!" He rolled over onto his back and shouted, "More fraking throttle I tell you!" One eye popped open. "Taylor? Where's Luke? Why haven't we crashed yet?" The pilot opened his other eye. "Why am I lying on the floor?"

Without waiting for any answers, Sanat sat up and tentatively put his right hand to his cheek. He could feel a large and very tender contusion residing there. Looking to Bennett, Vijay asked, "What happened?"

"I just had the craziest dream," Taylor said. "Or, I think it was a dream. We'd actually found someone in here, and had tied him up with excessive lengths of ODN power conduits. The illogic of this planet not even having half a meter of ODN cabling seemed immaterial at the time. He was speaking in a strange language that sounded like a mix between ancient Vulcan and Ferengi with a little Breen thrown in for effect." She sighed and looked around, as if to make sure no one was watching. "As we were waiting for the transporter to take us back to the ship so we could turn him over to Commander T'Kal, I noticed something odd about the being's face, and...it seemed illogical and contrary to my usual behavior, but I grabbed the side of his face and pulled. It appeared that...that it was Commander T'Kal. He glared at us, and then said something to the effect of...'And, I would have gotten away with it if it hadn't been for...those kids.' It was quite vivid and strange, and I have no explanation..."

Sanat looked at her with obvious disbelief painted all over his typically emotionless face. He made no move to stop Bennett from talking further.

"The other odd detail of the dream was that...Joji was here as well. Are you well?"

"I wonder why we weren't captured?" The mention of his canine tormentor went unnoticed as he tried to shake off the fog of their gassing.

"For us to be captured," Taylor said with an impish smile, "I think that would require someone to do the capturing."

Vijay simply nodded. "Good point."

Taylor grinned. "Come on, let's go find the others," she said. "The odd thing is that I usually don't dream."

He stood up and stopped while putting his hand out for her to stop as well. "Zowie! You're saying it was all a dream? I thought we were being tortured by some virtual reality device...."

"While the effects may be similar, I believe it was merely a dream. A virtual reality device would require that we be attached to some device and the VR imagery would have to be inserted into our minds. Why did you believe it to be some sort of virtual reality program?"

"Because an old fashioned Terran toaster cannot fly with an ironing board tied on by string. At least I think it was a toaster...anyway, it lacks the necessary airfoil dihedral to obtain sufficient lift for flying." Sanat shook his head slightly. "Wait a sec...there was this human...called Luke Sky-- something. He wore a funny helmet and kept waving a broom around shouting, Use the Force! Use the Force! Looked sorta like Lieutenant Thaine...sure sounded like him in any case."

The pilot made a circle with both hands to illustrate his next point. "We were chasing this sphere with legs and one huge eye. It was running away, but we kept losing it through this hallway with lots of doors in it...we would enter one while the...the 'thing' would come out another...." Vijay paused and then laughed nervously. "Somehow, it ended up chasing us towards a huge brick wall and we were going to crash into it when the dream was interrupted...."

He turned and regarded Taylor. "You think this is related to something here?"

"It's a very strong possibility," Taylor answered. "Though, at this point, except for the relative sanity we are experiencing, it is entirely possible this could still be a dream."

***

The pilot entered the area cautiously. It had been relatively easy to locate the rest of the away team by each individual commbadge signal, but so far, no one answered his or Taylor's hails. Sanat looked around for several seconds before spotting both Chambers and Tagliesh lying where they had fallen. He opted to try and rouse Ainsley first since she was closer.

Kneeling down beside her, Vijay carefully shook the counselor's shoulder, "Ainsley? Ainsley...wake up. It's Sanat. C'Mon now, no sleeping on the job...there's a mystery to solve...." The blond woman groaned at his urging, but refused to awaken.

Sanat tried again, however with a little more vigor in his next attempt, "Counselor...wake up! Counselor?"

Ainsley woke, her mind a little foggy, hearing someone saying "Counselor?" and shaking her shoulder. She groaned a little as she opened her eyes and they were assaulted by the lights around the room.

Shielding her eyes with her hand she sat up. "What happened?" she asked, looking up at Sanat hovering over her. "Jinkies, I had the weirdest dream." She wondered for a moment at her use of that word but then realized that had been in her dream. "I was on my hands and knees on the ground, looking for something. But I couldn't see, everything was blurry. There was all kinds of activity going on around me and then my hand fell upon what I was looking for and I put them on my eyes. They were old Terran eyeglasses. I don't wear eye glasses, I never have." She sat there thinking. "And then the weirdest thing happened. I put the glasses on and looked up and there was a huge monster right there in front of me. And then I woke up."

Jinkies? Zowie? Zoinks? Interesting terminology, he mused while Ainsley regaled him with her dream. Vijay commented when she stopped, "Taylor and I had unusual visions too...there must be a reason why...."

Ainsley struggled to her feet, trying to remember what was going on before she passed out. She remembered a feeling of panic as Tagliesh passed out, and before that...something had happened before that.

"There was a hissing sound," she blurted out suddenly. "We were gassed by something."

He thought about it for a second. "Yes...I remember now...Taylor heard it first, but then she passed out. I recollect trying to catch her only to succumb to its effects as well. A most curious means to secure a facility such as this."

"Perhaps curious, but definitely effective," Ainsley responded. "Any idea how long we were out? I'm sure it was more than enough time for the occupants of the facility to come and round us all up and do whatever they wanted with us. If those occupants were still alive that is."

"About two hours according to the tricorder's internal chronometer." Sanat gave her a small grin. "I believe, as does Lt. Bennett, that there is no one left alive here to round us up."

"I'd have to agree," Ainsley replied, "otherwise I don't think we would have woken up in the same place."

She stooped down and picked up her tricorder, which she had obviously dropped when she'd passed out. She punched a couple buttons and realized that the computers had been working the entire time. "Hey, Sanat, the computer's been translating the language the entire time we were out!"

***

Farrell started awake with a shout and a left jab, though the angle was clumsy and it didn't hurt Bennett nearly as much as it surprised her. He immediately grabbed for his phaser.

Taylor's reflexes were quick, and before Farrell could put a hand on his phaser, she'd plucked it away from where it rested at his hip.

"I don't think possession of a weapon is a good idea for a person in your condition, Ensign." She grinned. "Though with your aim, I don't think I really need to worry." She held a hand out to him. "We have a situation."

"Are there sandwiches?" Farrell asked, shaking his head to clear it. He had a significant bruise already formed on his temple. "There were sandwiches. And they were way too big."

"No," Taylor said. "Just concussions. Looks like you may have hit your head when you fell. Though, it surprises me that the chair faired as well as it did when it came in contact with your head."

"Not everything can be as soft as your heart, darlin'," Farrell said flatly, shaking off the last of his reverie. "What's the situation?"

"It appears that we've been unconscious for some time," Taylor said. "By my estimate, I would say just over two hours. It also appears that Ensign Vijay and I have experienced rather vivid, yet non-sensical dreams. I lack the necessary background to explain it for certain, but I would hypothesize that it had something to do with an internal defense system, though a method that seems very unorthodox, yet effective."

***

"The bumble berry tarts are for the princess!" Cristobel blurted, as he started awake.

"And, I'm certain they're quite scrumptious," Taylor said with a smile as she crouched next to Cristobel's head, "but we have other concerns right now. It appears as if some toxin was released into the facility, and...well, it's quite intriguing. How's your head, Cristobel?"

"Contorted," Cristobel responded succinctly and raspy. "...I take it we didn't actually get chased by a photonic zombie, who didn't eventually turn into my mother, and you didn't trip and break your ankle, and so I didn't have to push you around on a dessert cart, darting in and out of every lab in this place?"

"I believe I would remember being pushed around on a dessert cart," Taylor said as she offered him a hand to stand. "It appears strange dreams are quite common at the moment. I do not believe I am qualified to play Joseph to your Pharaoh, but perhaps Ensign Chambers may be able explain to what has happened to us."

"Will she be able to explain why Mason is bleeding?" Cristobel asked fairly nonchalantly once he was on his feet, while frantically looking around for his medical tricorder.

"I'm bleeding?" Farrell asked, touching his head. "I'm bleeding," he answered his own question. "Must have hit it when I fell."

"Definitely bleeding," Cristobel said with extra certainty in his voice, once he had his medical tricorder scanning Farrell, and was extra sure that it wasn't his own eyes that were bleeding. Using his free hand to find the dermal regenerator in his medical kit on the floor, Cristobel then noticed, "There's a minor residue in your lungs. Doesn't seem to be particularly harmful at this point... after we all fell unconscious and had some sort of fever dreams..."

"Joji was in mine," Taylor said. "And...Commander T'Kal had...he had some wild scheme, but he was wearing a mask. He would have gotten away with it too if it hadn't been for us kids, or...well, us."

Cris scanned Taylor with his tricorder as she spoke, and then began to run the dermal regenerator on Mason's minor bruise and laceration, as he remarked to Bennett, "The gas seems to be completely gone from your system. I guess the wild scheme really did fail."

"Apparently," Taylor said with a nod. "I do not understand why someone would choose such a method for detaining intruders. Yet, despite that, it seemed to work far more effectively than any weaponry could. Had anyone been living here, they would have had little trouble getting us into cells."

***

Sanat tentatively walked over to where Xayella lay and looked down at her. She appeared peaceful and somewhat benign in this sleeping state, however he hesitated to immediately wake her; much like a person pondering whether to rouse a sleeping serpent or other potentially dangerous creature.

No one wants to be bitten without a very good reason.

Finally, deciding that undue caution was not necessarily warranted in this particular case, Sanat bent down onto one knee and gently shook Tagliesh's arm. "Lieutenant...wake up. Lieutenant Tagliesh, are you okay?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and a groan followed as she sluggishly turned her head from side to side. "Jeepers," she muttered and brought a hand up to her pounding head. Xayella's hazy vision focused on Ensign Vijay, and for a moment she flinched away from him - or the grotesquely misshapen representation of him visible through the blur. "Get back in the chair," she told him groggily, her tongue heavy in her mouth. "Your...your perm isn't set yet."

Jeepers? Sanat involuntarily raised an eyebrow. "A perm? What's a perm, Lieutenant?" When she didn't answer, the tall pilot disregarded her statement and asked, "Are you all right, Sir?"

Blinking rapidly, Xayella squinted up at him. Recognition finally came at the sound of his voice. "Ensign Vijay?" She looked around her briefly and became even further perplexed. "Why am I on the ground? Did I-- Did I faint?"

The temptation was strong to make up something horrible to fluster the science chief, or at least embarrass her, but Sanat resisted and instead replied as he offered her his hand, "It seems we were assaulted by some kind of chemical attack with hallucinogenic side effects." He studied her labored efforts to sit-up, "Are you okay? Can you walk Sir?"

Xayella nodded uncertainly, and set aside her pride for a moment to accept Sanat's hand. She rose on shaky legs, but managed to steady herself after a moment. That was when foggy memories came flooding back. "It was the strangest thing," she said absently. "There was this...creature." There was a pause where she cast an inspecting, grimacing gaze in Sanat's direction. "It was horribly ugly," she commented, still watching the officer. "And...and it was chasing me. I couldn't run because I was in this skirt...it was too tight and there was this scarf throttling me." She raised a hand to her throat and felt for the imagined sash knotted there in her dream. With a shuddering sigh, she shook her head clear of the memory. "The oddest thing..." she murmured, searching her fuzzy memory for more details. "Hair," Xay said suddenly. "The...the thing suddenly had hair...and I was styling it." She snorted incredulously. "Why would I do something like that?"

For a scant second, Sanat wasn't sure if he'd been insulted as Xayella talked about her monster-inspired reverie. The ensign shrugged as she finished with the question of why she'd style a monster's hair. "Probably for the same reason Taylor tied-up 'Commander T'Kal with ODN cabling, Ainsley suddenly decided she had to wear optical glasses, and me flying a toaster while chasing a one-eyed monster with someone called Luke."

When she started to ask what he meant by that, Vijay shook his head negatively and stated, "Never mind...it's still too freaky to make any sense of...however, Ensigns Farrell and Sefton have discovered a secret laboratory we should go to. They feel many of our questions might be better answered down there."

Xay sighed. "Good...let's get out of here." She looked at her surroundings and shivered. "This place gives me goosebumps." There was a pause as Xay puzzled over the words that didn't sound right coming from her lips, then shook her head weakly and followed Sanat's lead.

---

"A Lazy Stroll"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Mark Thaine

Location: Arboretum; Lyrr's Office, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 10h35

***

With all the malfunctions, she'd worried that some harm had come to them. The automated water systems set a few degrees too high, soil replicated with the wrong concentration of nutrients and minerals, even the artificial sunlight shining a tad too brightly.... All of it could upset the fine balance required to maintain the biome established in Sulu's arboretum, and Lyrr Tayla wouldn't be satisfied until she insured not a single flower had been caused to wilt.

Father Derna had instilled in her a respect and appreciation for the oft neglected plant; if Lyrr hadn't joined Starfleet, she would have pursued her next love: botany. Instead, she was satisfied strolling through the lush grass nurtured by Corran, and was further gratified by the delicate fragrance emanating from the blossoms lining the path. It was the perfect getaway from the stresses of keeping up morale on a ship apparently in its decline, and in a relationship that consumed much of her time, it was also a single moment she could secure for herself.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to visit," she murmured to the various florae with a soft smile.

"Of all the places," commented a baritone voice behind her, "you had to hide out he--" The complaint ended with a loud sneeze, followed by a bout of swearing. Lyrr turned around in time to see Thaine wiping his nose with what was presumably once a white handkerchief, but now mostly resembled a very worn, cheap cloth of some kind. "Damned plants," the engineer growled, glaring at a set of tulips.

Lyrr chuckled, though there was an attempt to stifle it for Thaine's benefit. "More partial to bioneural gel packs, are we, Lieutenant?"

"There's something I'm--" He sneezed again, and blew his nose for the second time, making a noise like a broken trumpet. "Something I'm allergic to," he finished.

"Well, come on then." Lyrr marched back down the path. "You obviously have something on your mind if you tracked me here, so shall we go to my office?"

"Good enough," said Thaine, though with clear relief in his voice. He only sneezed once more before they got out of the arboretum.

***

"Drink?" Lyrr offered, looking over her shoulder at Thaine from the replicator. "I can't guarantee what you'll get, but the gamble's fun."

"That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about, Commander. And no thanks. I had a coffee before I came to find you."

Lyrr shrugged as she retrieved her cup of tea from the replicator. Sipping it, she made her way towards her seat. She took a moment to savour the warm brew once she was behind her desk, even smiling delicately into the amber liquid; at the clearing of Thaine's throat, she sighed and regarded the engineering chief. "Okay...let's hear it," she prompted.

"Commander, I don't have a clue what's goin' on. I've seen ships a couple of decades older than the Sulu run without a glitch, and yet we're experiencing system failure across the ship. And I don't know what's going on." Thaine put a heavy edge on the last part of the sentence, hoping to convey the sense of urgency he felt.

"I don't think anyone truly knows what's going on, Lieutenant," she told him with a note of reassurance. "Commanders T'Kal and Sam are working together to discuss some theories. You should join them...especially if it will make you feel better."

Thaine nodded. "Count me in." He hesitated slightly before adding, "There was one other thing I wanted to talk to you about..."

She smiled. "Of course. I suspected there was." She nodded for him to proceed.

The engineer took a breath, and for a moment it looked as if he was about to launch straight into the problem. But, instead, he slowly let the breath out, and took something of a more cautious approach - unusual, for the man. "Did Zareb and Tagliesh...know each other?" he asked. "Before arriving on the Sulu?"

Lyrr frowned. "No...not that I'm aware of. They never served together, that much I know." Setting down her cup, Lyrr shifted to the edge of her seat and watched him closely. "Why?"

"They seemed...to know each other. Well." He shook his head. "Doesn't really matter, that's not what I wanted to talk about." Pausing, he began again, this time speaking plainly. "Zareb has made Tagliesh his First Officer for the Nightingale, and frankly, I have my doubts about that decision, in regard to the safety of all on board that vessel."

"You believe Lieutenant Tagliesh will jeopardize this mission by..." Lyrr spread her hands. "Doing what, exactly?"

"She...I...well..." Thaine stumbled over his words, finally drawing a blank. "I don't know," he muttered, sullenly. "It's just a feelin'," he finally admitted, lowering his gaze, as if embarrassed to bring such a poor argument up in front of Lyrr.

"Well." Lyrr gave a long sigh as she folded her hands atop the desk. Unseen to Thaine, she smiled. "Lieutenant, I know exactly what you mean. Lieutenant Tagliesh is impulsive, she shuns authority, and she is willing to take risks with people's lives without a second thought." As he looked up, Lyrr raised a questioning eyebrow at Thaine, and asked, "That sort of 'feeling'?"

There was a definite look of respect in the engineer's eyes as he answered. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Exactly that."

"Yeah..." Lyrr echoed, nodding slowly. "I was a little concerned when he made that decision. There are two problems with all this, however, and I think the first is obvious: Tagliesh is involved with the captain." Shrugging, she added, "That isn't so problematic; she's still an officer aboard this ship, and any concerns I have regarding an officer with her...history will be voiced without hesitation. There is, however, another, more pertinent problem: Commander Zareb." From her slight frown, it was clear there was distaste towards her next words. "This is Commander Zareb's project, backed by Starfleet Command and Utopia Planitia. Now, of course our authority supercedes Zareb's when it directly concerns the safety of this vessel." Her lips pressed thin. "The Nightingale is not the USS Sulu, therefore we have little say in the choices Commander Zareb makes regarding his vessel." She smiled wanly as she quipped, "Quite the predicament, isn't it, Lieutenant? And not to mention frustrating."

Thaine gave a curt nod of agreement. "So what do we do? Nothing?"

"I didn't say that," Lyrr answered. "I think we all know Lieutenant Tagliesh's reputation, and considering there are members of our crew going on that shuttle, we do have a responsibility to protect them if we know of a threat to their safety." Lyrr smiled tightly. "That said...I'll talk to the captain. If you wish to join us in the conference, I'll be sure you're there."

"I'd appreciate that. And maybe you should bring along a counsellor who can give you a better assessment of her mental profile than either of us."

"Counsellor Scott has been having regular sessions with her. I imagine she'd wish to speak with the captain privately about Lt. Tagliesh's mental health."

The Chief nodded. "I'd best be getting back to engineering. Thanks for your time, Commander." He rose to stand. "Will you forward me any details of when Commanders Sam and T'Kal are discussing the current problems with the ship? Assuming I can get away from Engineering, I'll want to join them, too."

Lyrr smiled and gave a nod. "Of course. I imagine you're just as eager to discover the root of these malfunctions afflicting your beloved ship. Thank you for seeing me, Lieutenant."

Thaine just nodded curtly. "Thank you, Commander," he said, before making his way out.

Once her door closed, with some hesitation she noted, Lyrr sighed and sank back against her seat. "So much for a nice walk through the arboretum," she muttered, and wondered what other mischief Lt. Tagliesh was up to. One thing she did know: she was definitely not being let loose in the Gamma Quadrant to create more.

---

"Lights Out"
By: Captain Matthew Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.18, 11h00

***

There was the customary serene ambience pervading the bridge, which was a pleasant diversion from the random chaos afflicting much of the ship in the form of malfunctions that were as minor as the replicators producing socks instead of coffee, and as disturbing as turbolifts stalling. For the time being, the bridge was a refuge from the confusion and disorder, and provided reassurance to the officers with its tranquil atmosphere that the Sulu was not coming apart at the seams.

At least that was the case until 11h00.

Lyrr and Matt were pulled from their quiet conversation by the flickering of the overhead lights failing, and LCARS consoles blinking as they struggled to remain illuminated. The deepening hum of power being sucked from every bridge station signalled the impending darkness that enveloped them, but no sooner than they were bathed in it did the panels lining each bulkhead on the bridge shine with the deep red alert lights. Lyrr sighed and glanced unhappily aside at Matt.

Matt's thoughts had been elsewhere until the lightshow started, and once the red alert lights illuminated, his mind snapped full-on onto business. He glanced at the display embedded in the arm of his chair, quickly updating with tactical data. Nothing appeared on sensors, which indicated chances were good no one was out there attacking him. He glanced around and saw everyone else's expressions showed as equally perplexed. "Damn peculiar," he muttered. "It appears we've got a gremlin in the works."

Lyrr sighed and tapped her commbadge, but it failed to produce the distinctive chirp. "Comms are down," she told Matt. With a shrug, Lyrr rose and looked around the bridge. "Has anyone got a functioning terminal? We need some status reports here."

Benedict's terminal was fully functional, but he was engrossed in a systems diagnostic. He looked up and nodded. "I'm running a systems check, sir," he said.

There was only silence and shaking heads from the other stations, and Lyrr thanked T'Kal with a nod. She cocked an eyebrow at Matt. "I'm going to guess the turbolifts are down, too, and we're trapped."

Matt nodded. "We should send someone down to engineering through the Jefferies Tubes, at least get an engineer up here and assess the situation."

Lyrr turned again to address the bridge. "We need a volunteer to crawl through some cramped Jefferies tubes to engineering. Anyone care to brave it for the good of the ship?"

Petty Officer Frazier was the first to take on the task, and after a quick acknowledgement from Matt, he disappeared into the corridor. Lyrr smiled down at Matt, and said, "I guess all we do now is wait."

"I've always hated waiting," Matt said with a sigh. "I guess it's good we've got a small ship, so it isn't far from here to engineering."

Lyrr smiled in amusement and moved to take her seat.

Benedict looked meaningfully at Lyrr just as she turned. The Sulu's tactical systems had been secured along with the central computer core with a fractal encryption code shortly after Benedict had come aboard. He'd discussed enhanced computer security with Salinger and had upgraded the system. So far the systems that had been affected by the "Gremlins" were all peripheral - considered to be autonomic to the ship-wide systems. Almost every system had been affected over the course of the last twenty hours. Benedict had run a diagnostic on reported systems failures and the pattern was disturbing. He indicated with a raised hand for Lyrr to approach his station.

She nodded, her expression curious, and after a short word with Matt, she made her way across the bridge and up the steps to Ben's station. "Something wrong?" she asked, then smiled and gestured vaguely about the room. "Aside from the obvious."

"Yes, Commander." His use of her title took away any illusion that it was anything but business. He motioned with his head at his station. The results of the diagnostic were displayed. She had to step around the high backed console to see. "The systems affected so far are these" --he indicated a long list of system faults and the sub- systems they were a part of-- "in the last twenty hours. Tactical is the only station not affected on the Bridge and so far the main computer system is unaffected. The ship's weapons systems, tactical systems, life-support and shields are the only sub-systems with zero reported faults. Main computer core shows no failures either." He looked at her as he spoke softly, so that only she could hear. "Those are the systems that have multiple fractal encryptions against system subversion. The enhanced safeguards I installed during our stay at DS9. It looks like a ship-wide subversion of the peripheral systems - particularly the autonomous sub-systems. I don't think this is random - nor undirected. It just looks that way." He turned serious eyes upon her - his manner totally Chief of Security.

"Alright, let's assume these aren't random malfunctions..." Lyrr reasoned. "What's the point? Are they trying to send us a message - trying to assert their control over us by changing the temperature a few degrees?" She nearly smiled, but at his unchanging, stern expression, she simply sighed. "Okay, let's assume someone aboard this vessel is doing this. What is the point of all these minor fluctuations? Are you saying they're trying to find their way into those essential subsystems through a hole in one of the nonessentials, like the environmental controls?"

"Environmental controls are part of the Life-Support sub-system, but they are handled by third tier control processors - ship-wide they are able to be manipulated by anyone in their given area, simple things like adjusting the temperature by a few degrees either way. Those systems are affected, but not their second tier systems - such as oxygen mix, pressure levels and extraction controls - they are considered dangerous to play with and so are safe-guarded against subversion." He shrugged. "I'd need Lieutenant Sam to go through the error and failure logs to determine the exact point all these failures started to determine when and where - but it looks like a system cascade - single point failure rapidly expanding to multiple level failures over twenty hours."

"But the failures aren't permanent," Lyrr pointed out. "They seem to repair themselves." A quick glance around the darkened room, and she added, "Well...after a time. If someone is doing this, I think they're toying with us."

"I think we should get someone with more programming skills to examine these logs," he said seriously. "I don't like it at all."

"Once we get power back--" The bridge was conveniently bathed in light before she could finish, causing all within to squint momentarily at its intensity. Lyrr sighed with amused exasperation. "I'll contact Commander Sam and see what he finds." Smiling for Ben, she said softly, "Good work, Commander."

"Thank you, sir." His face was still stern, but his eyes were anything but. He held her gaze a fraction longer than needed and returned his concentration to the data scrolling down his screen. He felt edgy - there was just too many random occurrences of failures that were not hardware related. That these things had begun shortly after an away mission to a strange world seemed less than coincidental. So far he had six security officers reporting to sickbay because of injuries sustained in showers, door jams, and other incidents.

Having returned to her seat, Lyrr explained T'Kal's findings to Matt, and upon reviewing them, things sounded far more sinister than Lyrr had initially interpreted them to be.

"We'll need to run a full diagnostic of all ship's systems," Matt said once she'd finished. "I want all department heads to go through everything fully. We may have to do some things the old fashioned way, remove some of the computer control on some of the mundane tasks aboard the ship."

"We should also have Commander T'Kal work with Sam to examine those logs," Lyrr suggested. She sighed and shook her head gravely. "What is going on here? Ever since we stepped foot on that planet, things have been going to hell. I think we need to have everyone retrace their movements and report anything - no matter how insignificant - that could explain what's happening."

"Agreed," Matt said. "Let's begin with those logs and the first reports of problems. I'll talk to T'Kal about working with Sam on those logs. It'd be easiest if we get the department heads to get information from their crews, then funnel it back to us. We need to pinpoint the origin of these problems and fast...before it becomes more than scalding water and faulty replicators."

Lyrr nodded, and turned away slightly to contact Commander Sam, hopefully taking the first measures towards putting an end to the ailment ravaging their ship.

---

"Viral Abomination"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer

Location: USS Sulu, CMO's Office
Stardate: 57908.18, 13h00

***

Chief Medical Officer's Log, Supplemental.

Both the viral pathogen's origin and behaviour continue to baffle the computer and myself. I have become convinced that this virus should not exist, despite all of the painful evidence displaying the virus' presence in our corner of the galaxy. It is obvious that I have been exceedingly hesitant in designing a gene-therapy treatment, because of how little knowledge our observations of the virus has actually provided; I can afford no more hesitancy. Tchalla Mel'Chir will die in two days, when the virus finishes destroying her already-collapsed lungs and spreads through her bloodstream across her entire body. Yulik will follow soon after; M'lira and Kremer will likely have three days before they succumb.

I have begun designing the adeno-associated viruses that will genetically resequence the lungs of the infected patients. Despite the similarity that caused their infections, each species' DNA is distinct enough to require the development of unique gene-therapy treatments. Based on our lack of deep understanding of the virus, I will have to make many assumptions in the resequencing, in order to ensure the virus does not continue its replication within the patients. As a result, it is likely that all of the patients will retain respiration difficulties, even after their lungs have been completely healed. I will advise all of the patients of the risks, but I cannot imagine any of them will refuse treatment, especially since all of them have managed to retain their cool, collected, scientific intellects.

I am pleased to note that interpersonal conflicts are nearly non-existent in Sickbay at present. In all of my plans and exercises to correct the difficulties, I knew the only vaccine for Medical's social contagion would be time. It seems that this constant inundation of injuries and illness upon Sickbay is forcing everyone to work as a team. Despite this insight, I suspect Starfleet Medical would frown upon the notion of using this knowledge, and intentionally releasing a virus in a controlled environment for the sake of team morale. But it is something to consider.

---

"Meddling Kids (Away Team Two, Where Are You? Part Seven)"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
and Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Office of the Chief Medical Officer; Surface of JJ324c
Stardate: 57908.18, 18h55

***

Through her office's transparent viewport, Doctor Sefton watched a pair of enlisted security men hobble into Main Sickbay cradling bleeding limbs. Despite how often it had happened today, she still had to fight the urge to run out and assist them. They would probably survive even without medical treatment; the four virus victims would not. Besides, Sefton knew she could trust Derrell to keep things under control. Just as she got her concentration focused back onto the viral DNA displayed on her terminal, Damhnait heard a communications chirp.

"Ensign Farrell to Doctor Sefton."

"Go ahead, Ensign," Damhnait responded. Noticing the visual communications alert, she called up the image stream on her desktop terminal. Mason, from inside the shuttle on the surface, appeared on her screen, and the exhaustion that he had managed to mask in his voice was more readily apparent across his face.

"Sir, we're on the planet's surface, in what appears to be a biolab that was kept secret from the original population. We've found some things we felt you needed to see right away. Have you got a few minutes?"

"I have all evening for any laboratory on the planet," Damhnait assured him.

"Great. I'll turn this conversation over to Lieutenant Tagliesh. Lieutenant?"

"Doctor Sefton?" Xay's voice inquired as she replaced Farrell on the screen, then without acknowledgement added, "Good. I believe we've discovered a few things that might be of interest to you." She activated her portable computer console to review her notes. "It seems we've stumbled upon a laboratory of some kind--" Xay chuckled to herself. "Well...of a specific kind, really. It seems this lab was devoted to studying a viral pathogen. I'm transferring the images to you now."

It only took Sefton a matter of carefully studious seconds to recognise the virus as the current bane of her existence -- truly the toughest viral agent she'd faced. Considering how many hours she had spent burning visual representations of this virus into her retinas, it shouldn't have even taken her those few seconds. While it was clearly the same virus, it was not identical. "Mo dhia, is this what it originally looked like?" Damhnait enquired demandingly.

"A completely different virus, isn't it?" Xay mused. "I compared the DNA signature of the last mutant they had on file with the one infecting our crew and the two are barely recognizable as relatives. I don't have any temporal context for you, Doctor, but I'd say this thing mutates more often than Ensign Reese changes her hair colour."

"And like her hair, this mutation sequence cannot be natural," Sefton presumed.

"Doesn't seem that way," Xayella concurred. "The computer's just completing its translation of the text we found associated with the image files. Aside from that, the virus' protein matrix seems to have a specificity that can't possibly be natural. From what we've gathered, it has an almost 100% affinity for a certain cell type found within a group of people from this population. I'm not too clear on the cultural segregation of this society, but judging from the very strict geographical divisions we saw in that city, it would seem logical there were different castes, all with their own isolated gene pool. If this thing was engineered to target one of those...." Xayella herself was disturbed by the impact of what she was proposing. "You should have a file there," she continued. "It's a graph. The translation isn't completely clear, but I think you'll get the gist of it."

Examining the map overlaid with the graph of the virus' spread, Damhnait remarked, "The virus obviously did not limit itself to the geographical region, and population, originally intended. Its mutation capabilities must have increased exponentially quicker than any of them could imagine or realistically prepare for."

"So in the end," Xayella said grimly, "they ended up decimating their entire population. I guess they weren't as smart as they thought, huh?"

"Certainly not. Something like this... I can't imagine it was about intelligence. More likely it was about being righteous," Damhnait supposed with disgusted mockery. Activating another of the high priority files Xayella had sent, Sefton frowned at it as she examined it in silence for some time. There was a peculiarity. "This looks to be the mutation sequence designed for the virus, yeah?"

Xay shuffled through her files, and nodded to herself. "Its course wasn't random," Xayella told her. "Looks like it was very efficient in targeting a specific DNA sequence through mutation and attacking."

Narrowing her gaze at the mutation sequence itself, mentally disregarding its creator's intentions, Damhnait stated with clipped, confident intonation, "It's wrong."

Xayella raised an eyebrow, and asked, "What is?"

"The mutation sequence they designed," Damhnait replied, fluster showing around the edges of her consonants. "I can't make much sense of it. I-I will have to run calculations to explain the wrongness with any more specificity."

Shrugging, Xayella said, "Do your calculations then. I think we've found all the information we're going to get out of these ghosts. This is all you have to work with." She glanced aside at Farrell. "I'm ready to get off this forsaken planet."

"Good job. Thank you," Sefton said with distracted automation, her thoughts still mostly on the mutation sequence. "You have negated any chance of me sleeping tonight, but I believe this will greatly expedite our fight against the virus."

Xayella smirked and replied, "Truly my pleasure, Doctor." Then closed the connection with a decisive tap.

While Damhnait's careening curiosity needed to examine the virus' mutation sequence, the needs of her patients demanded an understanding of the virus' elusive targeting mechanism first. With hours of study ahead, she supposed comfort would have to be a substitute for sleep, and retreated to her quarters to gain the understanding that would act as a sword to the beast monster that was the JJ324c viral pathogen.

---

"Wholehearted"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Lyrr and Ben's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.18, 19h30

***

The coffee table was pulled away from the couch, and now resided in the center of the living area with one large pillow sitting on either side. Atop the lacquered surface were two richly coloured strips of purple cloth draped lengthwise and widthwise to create a crossed pattern. In the middle, where the two cloths met, were four circular, black rice bowls with appetizers of various kinds - marinated bamboo shoots, soy beans coated in a sticky sweet glaze, steamed tofu, and seaweed salad; two place settings consisting of rectangular platters with a border of painted lilies, and bamboo chopsticks resting beside, flanked the dishes, hinting immediately at the type of meal planned.

Two cups with a decanter painted in a similar motif to the platters were on one side of the table, and from its mouth drifted thin tendrils of steam from the warmed sake within. There was ambient, lyrical music accompanying the tranquil setting, but there was no one in sight, only the gentle humming of someone in the bedroom.

Benedict stopped as he stepped through the doors to his and Tayla's shared quarters and took in the scene as his ears picked up the humming from the other room. His concentration left the padd he'd been glancing through on the trip from the Security office. The music was soft and melodic, and he smiled as he stepped closer to the table. It was considerably more eloquent a setting than the last time Tayla had prepared a meal. She wasn't working Beta shift. That came as a very pleasant surprise. He'd planned on getting through a stack of reports and reading but that was instantly discarded as he heard her soft humming. She sounded happy and he paused to listen, a smile on his face.

He walked quietly to the arch leading to the bedroom and leaned against the wall, glancing in.

She was preoccupied with her reflection in the wall mirror, and his presence remained unnoticed. In each hand she held a shirt of different style - one a simple, white t-shirt with a v-shaped neckline and a pattern of small, golden flowers crawling along the front on a bias; the other was a far more appealing red top made from a shimmering silk and bearing only one strap while the other side was cut to leave her shoulder bare. It would fit snugly over her chest and drape over the rest of her torso, reaching only to the top of her black pants. The choice seemed an obvious one to Ben, but by her expression in the mirror, Lyrr appeared indecisive. Her humming stopped as she began deliberating with herself, muttering, "Maybe he'll like casual," while placing the one shirt in front of her, and, "Though, red is supposed to be sexier," as the other was put forward. She repeated the process a couple more times, with different comments, but in the end, she sighed and shook her head.

"Red," he grinned. "Definitely red." He was leaning against the arch with his arms crossed, watching her. "This is a very nice surprise," he added. "You look beautiful no matter what you wear."

She was facing him now, with the red shirt hugged to her bare torso and her smile chiding. "You weren't supposed to be home for another twenty minutes...according to my schedule. And the foolish computer was supposed to warn me when you were on your way!"

He raised a brow questioningly. "Well...twenty minutes will allow me to shower and get changed," he said as he stepped into the room. He kissed her hello. "Hmmm nice perfume," he said, catching a whiff of a new scent. He kissed her again, lingering and enjoying the closeness and her smile as he pulled away. Her dark eyes shone as she looked at him; it made his breath catch in his throat as he looked at her. He just gazed into her eyes for a long moment before he backed away. He wanted to kiss her again, but he just smiled. "I'll get changed," he said finally as he went to the refresher.

She chuckled and called after him, "Me too." And with a grin decided on the red after all.

***

Lyrr had just set down the wooden geta offering a colourful arrangement of sushi when Ben stepped into the room. She straightened up to greet him, then gestured to the meal. "In honour of our first dinner together so long ago," she explained. "I figured that since this is the first day I won't be working Beta shift, we'd require a celebration."

He looked at her questioningly as he walked to the table. He'd dressed up, seeing as she had set the dress code for the evening. He wore a dark purple shirt with a high collar and black trousers and boots. His hair was loose and draped down his back, the white forelock gleamed. "You mean you won't be working Beta at all, or just a few days a week?" He stepped closer and took her in his arms with a broad grin. "If that's the case I'd say it requires a celebration..." He drew her closer and hugged her, enjoying the feel of her against him. He'd waited all day for this.

"Just a few days," she sighed, nestling her cheek against his chest. "But it's still better than hardly seeing you at all." Smiling skeptically, she gazed up at him. "Right?"

"Absolutely right," he smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. "Thank you...for that, and for dinner." He grinned and kissed her lips, lingeringly before he chuckled and said, "We better eat."

"Why?" she asked coyly, slipping away to cue the next dish from the replicator. "Do you have somewhere else you'd rather be?" Her smile was teasing, but was a touch accusatory.

"Because if we don't eat it might turn into one of those meals we have a habit of preparing and never getting around to!" He laughed. "I have nowhere else to go, Love - in fact I was going to settle down to a bit of reading and a few reports - but..." He grinned. "Forget that." He stood behind her and kissed the back of her neck.

"Forget what?" she asked with a laugh. "You can't just not read a report, Ben." When the dumplings materialized, Lyrr was impressed. "Have you noticed, those malfunctions seem to have ignored our replicator entirely. You didn't happen to add extra encryption codes to the systems in our quarters, did you?"

"Why would I do that?" he asked with a smile. "Perhaps I didn't want to wear a skirt." He chuckled.

Lyrr snorted as she turned out of Ben's embrace and headed for the table. "We'll see about that, Benedict T'Kal. You got me into a dress, so it's time for payback."

He laughed. "No way, that was different - you look great in a dress. It just wouldn't suit me." He followed her. "Forget it. Not for a nanosecond." He grinned. "Don't even think about it." He sat on the cushion opposite and poured her some sake.

"But...what if I want to?" she answered with a challenging smile. "It isn't fair, you know. I didn't want to wear a dress and you don't want to wear a skirt...yet I had to. Haven't you ever heard of give and take, Ben?"

"You chose to," he smiled. "You could have refused, but you chose not to. I choose not to. A dress - or a skirt is normally part of a woman's wardrobe. Not so for a male. I will not comply." He gave her a smile in return that was just as challenging. "Nice spread," he indicated the food to change the subject.

She shook her head and chuckled at Ben, despite her mild frustration. "I have a feeling, Benedict T'Kal, that you're going to be the stubborn one in this relationship. Should I brace myself?"

He grinned. "You know me...I'm just a Bajoran. Stubborn's in the genes." He started to pick food from the bowls with deft pecks of his chopsticks. "Has Sam come up with anything on those software glitches?" he asked.

"Nothing to report yet," Lyrr answered as her own sticks trapped a dumpling. "They still just look like random malfunctions - there's no obvious pattern, but someone has to be behind them. Unless there's some kind of cascade failure, though still, we'd see a pattern of some kind..." She sighed and bit into the appetizer.

"If anyone can find a pattern," Benedict scooped some rice, "it'll be Sam. I wasn't impressed with the news of the virus either." He looked across the table at Tayla. "Has Sefton discovered how to take care of it yet? We're considerably more advanced technologically than the civilisation on this planet used to be - I hope that gives us the ability to find a cure fast. At least it doesn't affect us," he said with a touch of bitterness. He blamed Tagliesh for this mess - for clearing everything so prematurely.

"The doctor has said Lieutenant Mel'Chir is deteriorating quickly," Lyrr reported gravely. "She's attempting a therapy...but I have no idea when or if she'll succeed." Shaking her head solemnly, Lyrr said, "If this is any indication of what we'll be encountering over the next six months, I have very serious doubts about our chances of ever returning home."

"We'll have to do something about morale soon," he said seriously. "The last thing we want is for the crew to start thinking the ship carries a curse. Do we know who else it might affect yet? You know according to regs we're officially a plague ship. We're carrying a plague without known cure. That worries me far more than a few failures in ship software. There's a whole planet of dead to attest to the danger of this thing...and I don't want to attend any more space burials. We're not that far from the wormhole that we can't request aid from a medical ship."

"And risk infecting them as well?" Lyrr pointed out. She shook her head and transferred a helping of bamboo shoots onto her platter. "Captain Salinger would never agree to such a thing," she continued. "And neither would I, not yet."

"Medical vessels are specially equipped to handle this type of emergency," he pointed out. "But yes - I can see what you're saying." He nodded. Not entirely pleased, he imagined that pride would have a lot to do with asking for assistance so soon into the Gamma Quadrant mission. However Benedict didn't think the Sulu's medical department was entirely fit to handle this situation. He ate in silence for a while, looking across the table at the woman he loved, imagining her in sickbay like Lieutenant Mel'Chir. It made him shudder at the thought. He reached for her hand and grasped it. "It makes each day more important doesn't it?" he asked softly. "Live today, for tomorrow we die."

"That was all I thought about during the Occupation," she answered quietly and smiled weakly. "Not to mention the days where you just wished it would all end...one way or the other. But one thing I know for certain," she added with a heavy sigh, "is I'm not going to die at the hands of some pathogen. I've come too far to go out like that."

He smiled encouragingly and squeezed her hand. "We're safe." He held her eyes in his violet gaze and wanted to banish the thoughts of her past from her mind. He didn't want her going back there. "It's up to us to find the answers. I feel like my life's just started," he said with a smile. "With you, I'm looking forward, not back. That's what we need to do."

"Well, if you don't mind," Lyrr told him with a tender smile, "I'd like to stay right here...just for a little while longer. Who knows? We might even get to finish a meal for once." Laughing softly, she raised her chopsticks, picked up a roll between them, and brought it towards T'Kal's lips. "Sound like a good idea?" She winked at him.

He ate the morsel with relish and nodded. It tasted good. He chose a similar bite for her and laughed as she ate, remembering how he had frowned on Salinger being fed by Tagliesh. At least they weren't in public! The meal was quickly diminishing as they concentrated on eating. Momentarily forgetting the woes of the Sulu for a short while, and simply enjoying each other's company.

At last he smiled at Tayla and sat back. "I'm full." He swallowed the last bite and stood. "Tea?" he asked as he grabbed a handful of bowls for the recycler. When she nodded he cleared the table and returned with the implements for the cha.

As he sat and deftly laid out the cups and the small kettle, the bowl of tea and the whisk and long wooden spoon, he smiled. "I will serve you," he said softy. "The Cha No-yu, or tea ceremony is traditionally a Japanese custom." He bowed in the correct fashion and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his wa, or center. With a slow breath he commenced the ritual, a slight smile on his lips as he folded the pristine white napkin and began. It was a slow and graceful ritual, spooning just the right amount of powdered green tea into a cup, adding the water and then whisking it to a light froth.

The ritual was calming, and very graceful. He finally presented her cup with both hands, turning it in the correct manner three times as he handed it to her. "You turn the cup back three times," he said gently and watched as she did it. As she lifted the cup to her lips he bowed again, still watching her dark eyes and she drank.

The aroma was fresh, woody and the taste subtle. Lyrr sighed after a swallow and allowed the serenity it imbued to pervade her much as the curling steam did the air before her. With a lopsided smile at T'Kal, she nodded towards the sofa, then rose. "I hope you don't mind a small break in ritual," she teased and curled up on it.

He followed her and, kicking off his boots, he squeezed in between the sofa back and Tayla so that she was laying against him. "I think this is a ritual," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her. Her hair smelled faintly of flowers and her perfume was subtle. He enjoyed every sensation of her closeness and felt at peace with the world as he felt her breathing against his chest.

She chuckled softly and nestled her cheek into the crook of his arm as they conformed to the curves of one another's body. "You know, I'm glad I decided not to work Beta Shift," she whispered. "I know neither of us are going to get any work done...but I like this much better than reading reports."

"Reports? What are those?" he asked with a faint chuckle as he rubbed her shoulder. "You are tense," he said in her ear; he could feel the knots just below her shoulder blade. His skilled fingers went to work as she moved slightly to allow him to work. "Relaxation is just as important to a command officer," he grinned. "Spending more time with you like this is the best thing for me." He kissed the nape of her neck as his hands kneaded her muscles. "I think some TLC is just what you need.."

"Me?" she asked with a skeptical smile, "or you?" T'Kal's hands focused on a particularly tense spot on her back, earning a thick groan from Lyrr. "Okay," she sighed. "Definitely me."

He laughed softly as he continued to stroke her back, knowing the pressure points and the muscles and getting her to relax more as his fingers worked. They were silent for a while, Lyrr giving tiny groans and sighs as he evoked a feeling of well-being with his ministrations. He worked on her neck and into her hair, gently massaging her scalp. It was a calming exercise for Benedict, letting his mind sink into a light form of meditation as his hand worked almost automatically.

Lyrr's eyes were closed as she blindly set her teacup down onto the carpet. With her hand free, she laid it upon T'Kal's leg and idly stroked the length of his thigh with her fingertips. She chuckled lowly with blissful delight as each loosened knot triggered a warm tingle in her that had her skin prickling, and her mind floating. Then there was the arousal.... Lyrr inhaled unsteadily, and gnawed on her bottom lip as she released through her nose audibly. His hands moved back to her shoulders, fingers lightly caressing her silken flesh, and causing her grip to tighten on his pant leg while she pushed back against him. "This is...good," she murmured, and sighed.

"Hmmm," he sighed as he continued, eyes still closed. His focus was entirely on the sensation of her muscles and skin beneath the light top she wore. Oblivious to her own feeling of arousal until she moved against him. He ignored it - pushing it away with his mind and concentrating on a simple massage. He smiled as his eyes opened and she moaned again, but he didn't want to do anything to ruin the moment with her. He kneaded the muscles of her back and lower spine, causing her to move slightly away from him but loosening the tenseness in her lower back. He wasn't going to let her get to him this time. He had to remain firmly in control. His hand slipped across the exposed skin of her lower back, finding the pressure points and continuing the massage. He didn't stray anywhere near anything remotely erogenous.

"Did you--" Lyrr gasped timidly, and her fingers clenched his pants tightly. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and whispered, "Do all your women get this treatment?"

He laughed throatily and leaned down to kiss her shoulder. "Only you, my love. There isn't anyone else, there hasn't been for a long time." He didn't stop the massage, just moved slightly so that he could continue. "I enjoy giving it as much as you like receiving it," he whispered close to her ear. "I love the feel of your skin, and especially the little sounds you make, it tells me you really enjoy it." He ran his hand up her back to her neck again and caressed her more tenderly. "Just relax and enjoy it," he murmured.

"I am," she answered with a crooked smile. "Though...maybe a little too much." Her hand loosened its hold on his pant leg, and smoothed over his thigh, following the winding trail of muscle beneath. "I'm not usually this easily relaxed," she whispered, her voice nearly breathless. "Sound strategy, Commander."

He chuckled, "I think I should resent the implication there, Commander, my intentions are purely honorable." He kissed her neck, inhaling her perfume and sighing warm breath against her skin. His hands stroked her shoulder. He could stay like this and be happy he thought, truly happy. He felt such complete contentment that it was difficult to express even in thought. "I could stay here forever," he murmured against her skin.

"Me too," she concurred. "But we shouldn't," Lyrr added with a languid chuckle. "I'm going to fall asleep if we do...and I don't think I'm in the mood to go straight to bed." Her hand running sensuously down his leg clarified exactly what she was feeling in that moment, and it was hardly fatigue.

He turned her shoulder slightly, enough that she rolled into him and he looked down into her eyes as he smiled, a lazy caress of her cheek with a long fingered hand and he leaned down to kiss her. They melted together in a languid kiss, Benedict holding her gently.

Lyrr's hands moved to his waist, then slid towards his chest where they brushed against the ends of his loose hair. She twined the silky tendrils around her fingers, raking them through fully until her arms were looped around his neck. The kiss lingered, as did the effects of T'Kal's massage, and Lyrr unconsciously found herself tangling her legs with his to crush herself against him. Once again, their passions were driving them dangerously close to a situation Lyrr could hardly prepare herself for.

He kissed her, tenderly and lovingly. He broke the kiss to look into her eyes, still barely touching her lips with his own as he whispered, "I love you," and kissed her again, lips caressing and soft against hers. He kept his passions firmly under control, enjoying the sensations of kissing her without the need to or risk of taking it any further than that. His arm cradled her shoulder and his hand stroked her back. He inhaled her perfume, the scent of her skin and the soft moans that she let loose. His whole world concentrated upon her soft lips and the dancing of their tongues. He could feel her trembling beneath him, but made no move to heighten the sensations as her body pressed against his.

Again she left his profession of love unreciprocated, and only returned his kiss with matching fervour. She had forbidden herself from falling in love with Ben, as she had vowed never to love Father Derna and Mother Yalen, but in truth she knew she did and always had; Lyrr now feared the same might be true of Ben, but she would deny it until she could fully categorize what it was she had experienced with Oresh. She couldn't possibly have loved a Cardassian, one who had exploited her naiveté and stolen her innocence, but for so long her heart had convinced her she did. Lyrr refused to feel the same, corrupted emotions for Ben, not when he was so much more than Oresh. He deserved better than that; Lyrr would prove that to him.

Breathing heavily against Ben's cheek, she moved her kisses to his jawline, then his throat, while her hands spread open his shirt. "Let me make you happy," she whispered.

He caught her hands firmly, and drew them away. Looking into her dark eyes he shook his head slightly. "You already make me happy," he breathed. "I don't want any more than this." He kissed her again, holding her hand by her side. Drawing back he smiled. "I don't want anything else. I'm happy just being here with you. That's all I need, Love." He let her hand go and cupped her cheek, his violet eyes gazing lovingly into her own. She was so beautiful, he just wanted to drink in the sight of her. "We have each other, nothing else matters," he whispered.

Lyrr nodded hesitantly, wondering at his refusal of the one thing he had seemed so intent on gaining from her a few short days ago: complete intimacy. She offered it now, yet he had declined. Oresh had never rejected her advances, the ones he had so skillfully programmed her to initiate and the stimulation she had been trained to perform, but Ben had, and with a heavy sigh Lyrr embraced him in her trembling arms. "Thank you," she breathed. "This is the first time-- I'm grateful, Ben. So grateful...."

Her words confused him for a moment, but he drew her into his chest and cradled her. His mind was asking why? but he knew already. "You have nothing to be grateful for," he whispered into her hair as he held her tightly. "When it's time - I want it to be perfect. Until then...I just want to hold you, and love you." He felt the raw emotion burn in his chest for her. He wanted her love, not her capitulation.

She smiled against his cheek as her lips turned into it for a kiss. "And I," she told him softly, her body relaxing into his embrace, "want to let you."

"Just as well," he told her softly, "because I'm not about to let you go." He kissed her, and remembered Ainsley's words to him as they stood in the Observation deck. There was nothing he could do but love her wholeheartedly and completely and hope that in time she would do the same.

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