"Off The Record"
By: Master Chief Petty Officer Kora Tawno - Chief of the Boat
and Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist

Location: USS Sulu, Armory
Stardate: 57908.28, 00h04

***

Case left the party as soon as protocol had allowed, intending one last check-in at the Armory before making it to his quarters but he had found Sullivan in a fairly well-hidden snit about not only being on duty but having agreed to hold down the fort until 0100 when Cox would return from some project for Dr. Potts. Fiona's disappointment at being unable to attend the awards reception was so palatable in spite of efforts to be professional, Case felt compelled to tell her to 'shove off' in short order. No doubt, Sullivan would fret that he was somehow disappointed with her when the fact was that he wasn't tired and wanted to be at his duty station alone. He did nothing to dispel her misconception.

He was deep into a good brooding silence when he heard the doors whisper open. The vaguely unpleasant clearing of the throat told him who it was before she even got started.

"Everything five-by-five, Case?"

"Would it be any other way, Master Chief?" Case asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he moved his hand away, he almost managed a smile. "Can't sleep?"

'Big Kora' Tawno arched an eyebrow with the air of one unimpressed with question dodging.

"Something on your mind, Master Chief?" Case asked point blank.

"Yes," Tawno nodded. "Whatever's on yours."

"You think I was rude to Ensign Lektar," Case stated rather than asking.

"Abrupt," Tawno grunted. "Not rude."

"And you'd like to know why," Case noted, pursing his lips.

"I would."

"And is this Chief Case speaking on the record to Master Chief Tawno or is this Sorien having a conversation with Big Kora?

"When it's just us, Sorien, it's never on the record."

Case studied her. "I realize that receptions have a purpose after an awards ceremony but considering the loss of personnel and the failures of fairly significant portion of our crew, this one shouldn't have been a party." Case stood up at the console and turned away from Tawno. "Believe me...there's plenty of people to be disappointed in but Ensign Lektar's display with Commander T'Kal was particularly shameful. And she didn't even have respect enough for the other honorees to wear the uniform."

"Agreed," Tawno said, looking thoughtful. "What do you make of that? Lektar and T'Kal, that is. Do we need to worry?"

"I think it's something to add to the list," Sorien said quietly. He looked back at her. "Your department is in trouble, Kora."

Kora smirked unpleasantly. "Tell me what you see."

"I see one junior officer, maybe a good one, who's convinced he knows what's best in spite of all evidence to the contrary. I see another junior officer who would rather be someplace else completely unaware that she needs to set an example for crew that serve under her." Case looked at her, his single eye burning. "I see a Master Chief Petty who is in a better position than me to do something about it. You're Chief of the Boat, Kora...that's Command. Officers or not, you can make an impression."

"Action is being taken, but I'm curious. If they were in your department, how would you go about making that impression?" Tawno mused aloud.

"You're not curious at all, Master Chief," Case stated flatly, responding to the dodge. "And I'm not interested in discussing a hypothetical. You're in the sweet spot...I'm not."

"You think Security's trouble-free?" Tawno asked, with an equal lack of inflection.

Sorien sighed wearily. "It must be a departmental mandate," he said as if to himself but while looking at her.

"That every department have its share of misfits, freaks, and fools?"

"That Operations personnel do everything they can to deflect attention and avoid responsibility." Case placed his hands behind his back. "You wanted to know what was on my mind and when I tell you, you get a look on your face like these concerns are an amusement. So be it...I see nothing productive in continuing this conversation. Is there anything else, Master Chief?"

Tawno had gone stone-faced during Case's words, and stared flintily at him for a moment after he was done. "Deflection and avoidance," she repeated, as though testing the words. "Deflection and avoidance?" she said again, turning the last word into a question. She shook her head and darkly muttered, "I suppose that's what I get for trying subtlety with you beamslingers.

"I'll be more direct," she stated, meeting Case's eye and holding it. "I don't ask a question unless I want an answer. And I asked you a question. If officers like Farrell and Lektar existed in security, what steps would you take in trying to impress on them the error of their ways? Your interest in hypotheticals isn't something I'd spare a drop of piss on if it were burning to death. Just answer the question." Her voice was hard and flat, the words possessing the bite that only one with 20-odd years in the 'Fleet could muster.

"Since this is off the record, Master Chief," Case advised, stepping closer to her. "You might save that stare for someone it'll work on...you'll find me immune." The two looked at one another, both still in their dress uniforms with Case fairly towering over and eclipsing the small Tellarite, who looked for all the word like a wide moon about to crash into a larger planet.

"You gonna quit posing and answer my question?" Tawno did not flinch, the immovable object meeting the irresistible force.

"You have oversight on the duty schedules of all enlisted personnel on the ship and you can go directly to the Captain with your recommendations," Case tersely reminded her. "Break up Farrell's clique...see to it that nobody involved in this alleged mutiny nonsense is under his command for a good long while."

"He's done that for me already," said Tawno.

"How so?"

"Farrell's distancing himself. I got the word on it this morning, from that screwball Espinoza. Farrell's ordered--ordered--the enlisted Ops staff to stay away from him."

"That's a step...but I'm not sure it's a big enough one," Case said, considering the move. "If we were in the Alpha Quadrant, my recommendation would be to get them all reassigned to different ships. This needs to die and die yesterday."

"I couldn't agree more. I had to kick Espinoza good and hard to get him to drop it, and I'm watching the whole department to make sure they don't do anything stupid."

"To drop what?" Case asked with interest and a fair bit of dread.

"He said something stupid about being ready to follow Farrell--convinced Farrell was up to something. I had to set him straight," Tawno's tone left little doubt about what that meant. "But it's straight now. And with distance between Farrell and the department for a while, it'll die. I just wish I could figure how this got started in the first place."

"Ensign Farrell hasn't learned his place," Case said, while he envisioned himself ringing Espinoza's neck. Off Tawno's look he added. "Oh, I'm not so stupid to think that's the only answer but it's the short one and it's the one that matters to the Captain, and Commanders Lyrr and T'Kal."

Tawno gave a short croaking laugh. "Officers," she said grumpily.

"I'm just not so firmly convinced that this will go down so easily," Case fretted. "And I'm not really a 'wait-and-see' kind of guy."

Tawno nodded. "There's a time and a place for every tactic, Sorien," she said. "This is the time and the place for quiet, but watchful," she held up one of her two thick fingers to emphasize the word 'watchful', "patience."

"I disagree," Case said with some authority. He only had a couple years less time in than Tawno and his enlistment had seen the worst Starfleet offered. "But I'll play it your way for now...and if it goes badly, I won't let you forget it."

"I expect nothing less," Tawno shook her head. "In fact, I expect you to bring your concerns to me directly, and not wait for me to track you down in your cave," she waved to the armory at large. "I deal with enough galactic-sized egos on a daily basis that I need somebody to actually converse with, not argue at. I need the rest of you chiefs to talk with me. Especially when something like this goes on."

"You can count on it," Case said definitively.

---

"Safest Way to Be"
By: Lieutenant Mark Thaine - Chief Engineer
CPO Calyca Boothroyd - Engineer

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters and Holodeck Four
Stardate: 57908.28 01h00

***

Caly popped her gum as she tapped several keys on her PADD and set the diagnostic program on the little robot in motion. The evening had been an interesting one if nothing else. Interesting, a bit overwhelming, curious, and definitely unsettling. The heel of her foot bounced a little as she rechecked the PADD's connection to the robot and finally stood up. Definitely unsettling. She began a circuit around the room, popping her gum and, were anyone to see her, looking rather lost. On her second lap, she stopped mid-step and looked around. Was she pacing? Good gods, she was pacing. She looked down at the twentieth century Rubix cube in her hands and wondered how it got there. "You're losing it, Cal..." she muttered to herself and popped her gum, her fingers automatically going back to working the puzzle.

It was all Jurell's fault. No wait... It was Shirik's for making her go to that damned party. She'd had fun though. She was too honest to deny that. But right now she needed to 'do' something. With a disgusted snort, she popped her gum, grabbed her pack, slipped her feet into shoes, checked the cap on her head and left her quarters.

"Deck four," she told the computer after stepping inside the turbolift. It wasn't until the lift doors closed that she remembered Jurell was on deck four. She could go talk to him... She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned against the turbolift wall for the duration of the ride. He'd probably still be up. Maybe if she got this thing settled with him she wouldn't feel so... Unsettled. Then again, did she want to see him right now? She wasn't one to usually put these kinds of things off. Although she was feeling rather non-confrontational at the moment. By the time the turbolift doors opened she'd decided what she was going to do and her feet took her to Holodeck Four. Maybe she'd go talk to him...after a workout. Maybe.

"Computer, run Booter Mulu--" she stopped mid command as she walked into the Holodeck and realized she wasn't alone. "Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was anyone here...." She was wearing a sport tank top in orange and black loose fitting running shorts pulled on over longer form-hugging ones in pink, leaving her legs and midriff bare.

Sat, in the middle of the bare floor, was the Chief Engineer, in a set of drab, Starfleet of duty clothes. Legs crossed, he'd lifted his head out of his hands when he'd heard someone enter the room. The expression of his face was one of...emptiness. "Oh," he said, in something that vaguely resembled surprise, but wasn't quite strong enough to be called such. "Booter. What're you doing still up?" Even his voice was flat.

Okay, this definitely wasn't good. Caly walked over to where he sat and crouched down in front of him. "I could ask you the same thing, sir. I'm restless," she answered his question first. "What happened?" She didn't ask if he was okay. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that he wasn't.

Something changed in Thaine's eyes; a realization of who he was talking to. Clearing his throat, the man began struggling to his feet. "Nothing important, CPO," he answered her, establishing a barrier between them with his words. "I was just about to leave."

"Sir, don't get up," Caly frowned and reached out a hand to lightly touch his arm in an effort to stop his upward progress, unaware of his hastily erected barrier, or choosing to ignore it. "Please. You don't have to leave," she told him. "I'm just as glad to have the company."

Thaine paused, and then shrugged; company obviously acceptable enough. "Alright. What'd you come in here for, anyway?" he asked, returning to his seated position.

Caly plopped down on the deck from her squatting position and sat cross-legged as he'd been. "To workout," she shrugged a bit and smiled in his direction. "I thought maybe it could settle this unsettled feeling I have," she admitted.

"Unsettled?" Thaine gave her a puzzled glance. "The food from the party, or something else?"

"Something else." She gave him a quirky half-smile and then as if suddenly realizing she still had her cap on, reached up to tug it off and run a hand through the short curls. "The food was actually quite good."

Thaine nodded in silent agreement. "Guess it was," he muttered.

"Did you not eat, sir? We could grab something if you like, raid the replicators," she suggested after a moment and then impulsively blurted out. "You see, I went on a date sir," and the emphasis on the word sounded like she equated that with eating worms. "And I never date."

"Oh," said Thaine, barely resisting a shudder. "A date." He managed to echo the tone Caly had used almost precisely. Looking up at her, he seemed to make a decision. "Replicators sound good. I'm starving," he admitted. As he rose to his feet, he added, "And when we're off duty, you can quit with calling me 'sir' every other sentence."

She grinned impishly and jumped to her feet. "Yessir," she nodded, her tone holding a hint of teasing.

***

"You see... The depth of the.... Uh...unsettledness directly correlates to the number of toppings you use," she explained and offered him the bottle of chocolate syrup.

Handing her a spoon in exchange, Thaine began covering his chocolate ice cream in syrup, in a rather haphazard sort of way. "Figured as much," he said, as he finished with the syrup and reached for the hundreds-and-thousands. "So who was the date then?"

"Sorg Jurell." She popped a pinch of nut pieces into her mouth before sprinkling a healthy serving over her chocolate covered chocolate ice cream. "He's in Security," she told him and traded the nuts for the hundreds-and-thousands. "He guards the Computer Core. You come up here often?" She looked around briefly as she licked the tip of one finger clean.

"Only when it's quiet." Additions to his bowl of ice-cream complete, Mark inched a little more forward, so he could peer down from his high vantage point. In front of him, the warp core of the Sulu continued down toward Main Engineering, where he could see the reaction chamber. Up here, right at the top of the core, it was quiet, peaceful, and, unless someone felt a definite need to carry out some work above the core, private. "Good date?"

"Actually... Surprisingly so. I had - fun," she admitted in a tone that testified to her surprise. She took a bite of topping covered ice cream and inched a bit forward as he had. "I come up here sometimes when I need to think without my mind distracting me," she told him. "It's amazing, isn't it? Like looking into the heart of a giant."

Thaine inclined his head slightly, considering it. "Never really thought of it that way," he admitted, around a spoonful of ice-cream. He drifted into silence as he ate.

"And that is why I'm so unsettled, I think," she mused thoughtfully, slipping into self-analysis mode, her mind not really focused on the warp core with the comment. But it shifted and she looked down into it. "I think I always have. From the first time I saw one," she admitted.

"You should be careful, y'know," said Thaine, staring at his remaining ice-cream, as if it might provide some great insight if he looked at it long enough. "Relationships are messy."

Caly blinked and looked over at him, spoon half-way to her mouth. "See! I know that," she nodded and took the bite, glad to find someone who understood that too. "It's sooo why I don't do relationships," she told him decisively. "Or date."

"So why're you doing it?" questioned the senior engineer, looking directly at her as he posed the question.

"Doing what?" Caly blinked and wide green eyes met his.

"Dating." He looked back, brown eyes unflinching.

"Oh, nonono... One date," she held up a single finger to show him. "One. Soltanto uno. I am not dating. And I told him I didn't date, so he knows that already. This was like... An exception," she nodded sagely.

"Right." Thaine regarded her skeptically, and then dropped the issue. "We've both got shifts tomorrow," he commented. "And it's probably early morning by now."

"After oh-two hundred but not quite three yet," she agreed. "And I'm not dating," she affirmed stubbornly, a light frown marring her features. "And I don't do relationships..." she added for good measure. "I'll clean up if you like, sir."

"Forget it. I'll just sling them in the reclamator." He rose to his feet, taking Caly's empty bowl from her, and sitting it within his own. "I'm not telling you not to date, Booter. I'm telling you to be careful. I need good engineers, not love-sick ones."

"I'm being careful not to date, sir," she answered as she scrambled to her feet. "And I have no intentions of being a love-sick anything. Besides, I'm already in love," she told him with a grin.

Thaine smiled softly, but sadly, as she grinned at him, understanding her meaning perfectly. "When you're in the 'Fleet, being in the love with your ship is the safest way to be."

---

"Uplifting Let-Down"
by Ensign Amy Reese - Nurse
and Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist

Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck Two
Stardate: 57908.28, 05h57

***

Chief Case was an intimidating presence in his Anbo-Jytsu armor. It was glossy black and inset with red Japanese characters, with the scuffs and scratches of a hundred matches. His sparring staff was equally battered though the Chief took care to keep the proximity sensor in top condition. Across the red circular ring, Case's nemesis Vulcan stared at him impassively and lowered the green eyeshield. Case copied the move, dropping his black visor and closing out the visual world.

"Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu!" the two shouted after a formal bow and then they were at one another. The Vulcan didn't wait for the proximity sensor but took a blind swing and the lightly padded battering section glanced off Case's helmet. The move was a mistake, giving the Chief a good idea where to point his staff's sensor for a reading. Case listened with keen ears until the hum grew to a crescendo then reversed the staff in an upsweeping arc that took the Vulcan under the chin and sent both feet out from under the hologram. He landed hard on his back, outside of the ring.

Brisk, excited applause rang out from the doorway, and when Case flipped open his visor, Amy Reese scampered forward. "That was amazing!" she gushed. "Oh, I'd never be able to do that!"

"I used to say the same thing," Case said, dropping his staff to the padded ring. "Computer, delete opponent." The Vulcan faded away just as he got to his feet.

The protective armour he wore made his muscular definition far more pronounced than in his uniform; the sight alone stole a sigh from Amy's lips. "You were so great, Case," she told him dreamily. "I could watch you all day, just like that...."

Case jumped off the elevated circle of the center ring and sat down on the edge. "I'm not sure you'll get the chance for awhile," he said, pulling off his protective gloves.

"Why not?" Amy bounded towards Case and plunked herself down beside him on the ring. She grinned sheepishly at their proximity to one another.

Case lifted the helmet off his head. "I'm going to be tied up mornings and afternoons training some personnel for several weeks." He looked at Amy. "I won't have the time to train you as well."

Her face sank. "What?" she whispered, lower lip trembling. "But...why? Not even for half an hour? Ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes would hardly make a difference," he advised her, smiling. "I would imagine that there might be an odd day here and there I can meet with you but every other morning will be impossible."

"But--" Amy's bottom lip protruded slightly, and her entire body sagged to convey her disappointment. "Well...I understand," she pouted. "I'm a horrible student...I'm sorry."

"If only that were true, this would be easier." Case smiled at her. "Commander T'Kal expects my best work and I have to give it to him. It wouldn't be fair to short change either of you."

"I know," she admitted grudgingly. "It's just--" Amy looked up into his single, alluring eye and felt caught in its snare. "When will I see you?" she whispered.

"The Sulu is a small ship, Amy," Case reassured. "And I can work up a training program for you to follow solo for a while." He nodded in the direction where his opponent had disappeared. "My Vulcan has been looking for a proper sparring partner."

"The one that nearly killed me my first day?" Amy narrowed her eyes peevishly and cuffed his arm. "I bet you'd rescue me all over again, wouldn't you?" Leaning her head upon his shoulder, she sighed dramatically. "My saviour...."

"I'll tone him down a few notches," Case promised, wrapping his thickly muscled arm around her. "And I'll make an effort to help you in any way I can."

"Oh, that's okay," she told him, smiling wanly. "I mean...was so looking to these mornings together. I was hoping it would get my mind off the fact that when I woke up...Kit wouldn't be sleeping beside me."

Case studied her closely. "Since when?"

"Since the day before last," she told him sullenly. "Counsellor Scott suggested that we separate for a while, to get things worked out." Amy whimpered and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "I miss him."

"I'm sure he feels the same way," Case stated carefully. "Does Counselor Scott really believe a change of sleeping arrangements will change things?"

"I think she does," Amy answered slowly. "It's worth a shot...right?"

"Perhaps," Case shrugged heavily. "But you both are planning on still seeing one another, correct?"

"When we can," she admitted, but gazed up at Case with curiousity. "Case...are you trying to tell me something?"

"I'm not a Counselor," Case said obviously. "I'm only suggesting that you should clarify what Lieutenant Scott means by 'separation'. Somehow I don't think it was merely changing quarters."

Amy sighed. "I know... I-I just thought that seeing each other once in a while would be okay." Her pout returned. "Are you saying it isn't?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I would think that Lieutenant Scott has your best interests at heart."

"My best interests," Amy whispered, shifting around and drawing one folded leg onto the ring to face Case, "are best served by attending training sessions with you, Case! My time with you has helped so much. I'm more disciplined, I concentrate better..." Her hand had clutched onto his in her fervour. "Case...please. I-I need to see you again."

He looked down at her hand. "I'm not sure Doctor Sefton agrees...she seemed concerned about your training sessions."

"Wh-- What do you mean?" Amy asked. "You told her about us? Th-The sessions, I mean," she stammered.

"She probably got it from you," Case smiled, tapping his temple to remind Reese of Betazoid telepathy. "I don't believe it's completely personal...it has more to do with the Doctor's philosophic bent about violence than any particular concerns about you."

"What!" Amy exclaimed. "What concerns? What did she say? D-Do you agree with her?"

"No, I don't agree with her," he said, patting her hand.

"Well this is none of her business," Amy stated defiantly. "If I want to train with you, I will. And" --she leaned in towards him, smiling impishly-- "I promise not to beat up anyone unless they deserve it."

"Well said," Sorien agreed, returning her smile. "However, she is your superior officer and it doesn't always do to defy them so boldly. A good Starfleet officer knows the politics of interacting with their superiors. You have to know how to pick your battles."

"Is that a lesson for our next meeting?" she asked with a dazzling smile. "Oh, please, Case," she begged, "just one more session. Please?"

"That's what we're here for," Case smiled. He palmed the top of his helmet and pushed it onto Reese's head. "Let's see if we can get you doing something you think you'll never be able to do."

Amy rose, and staggered under the unexpected weight of the helm. She giggled and framed her head with both hands to steady herself. "You're going to go easy, right?"

"Not me," Case smiled. "Computer, reinstate Martial Arts Opponent Omega-A, full Anbo-Jytsu gear." The Vulcan in green armor appeared on one side of the circular ring, eyeing Reese dispassionately.

Amy gasped and nearly sought cover behind Case. "You can't be serious. He'll kill me!"

"You won't feel a thing," Case assured her. "Computer, safeties at maximum. Opponent at lowest setting." The computer chirped in response.

Amy looked around hastily for the staff Case had been armed with, and despite her lack of peripheral vision, she spotted it and scurried to retrieve it. The weight wasn't so much she couldn't adjust, but she wondered if she would be able to swing without throwing herself off balance. "Well...do I just hit him or something?" she asked Case nervously.

"First, you drop the visor," Case advised. "And then you bow and say Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu."

Amy' could hardly gape her mouth under the constraints of her chin-strap, but her wide, blank eyes attested to her befuddlement. "Yoro--huh? I don't think the UTs know that particular language, Case."

"The universal translator knows Japanese," Case smiled. "It's just that particular phrase is situational and doesn't translate well into Standard. Literally, it means something similar: I humbly ask you to be kind to me although in the Anbo-Jytsu ring, the meaning is closer to I will do my best, so please do so as well".

Amy chuckled weakly. "I think I like the first one better." Case repeated the phrase once more, and Amy recited it to her opponent in a close enough approximation. She yelped as the Vulcan shouted back, though in a dispassionate monotone. "He's so gonna kill me," she whimpered.

"You only have your ears so use them," Case advised. "Just listen for your sensor hum but also listen for his steps on the mat. It'll tell you where to point the staff."

Amy wasn't about to admit to Case that she doubted she could hear anything above her thundering heartbeat. The Vulcan's footsteps were almost soundless at any rate, especially compared to the loud shuffling arising from her own feet. Her equilibrium was failing her, and with each step there loomed the danger that she'd simply topple over; she held her stick horizontal to provide balance, but at that position her sensors detected nothing. The ominous hum of the Vulcan's spurred her to move at a quickened pace, but one wrong step, and she'd fallen to her knees. The Vulcan's staff gave a steady, resounding thrum as it honed in on her. She tensed and awaited the fatal blow.

Amy felt the rush of air less than a centimeter over the top of her helmet. The Vulcan hologram had a solid read on her position but was as blind as she and not privy to her fall. The arc of the swing and the sound of her opponent's sensor hum gave even the inexperienced Reese a fairly good idea where the Vulcan stood.

Case hadn't given encouragement or advice, but Amy knew he was watching closely, assessing her and her worth. More than anything she wanted to impress Case. Scrambling to her knees and hefting up the staff, Amy sought for a lock on the Vulcan. Without truly receiving one, she squealed and swung the baton at waist-level. The long staff connected with a solid barrier, one that fell away and allowed her weapon to follow-through. The grunt and familiar sound of a body hitting the ground alerted Amy to her lucky victory, and with a triumphant shriek, she leapt to her feet and tossed off her helmet. Before her lay the Vulcan, though he was already in the process of rising. Amy was too preoccupied with bouncing and twirling excitedly to mind.

"I got him!" she shouted. "Were you watching?!"

"I was," Case said, folding his arms and smiling. "Care to tell me again what you'll never be able to do, Ensign?"

Amy lowered her head sheepishly and answered, "Nothing?"

Case nodded at the Vulcan hologram that was back in position already with the visor lowered. "Are you ready for round two?" he asked, smiling.

Looking up at him from beneath her lashes, and exuding a determination she rarely conveyed, Amy replied, "Am I?" Then held her staff at the ready.

---

"Breakfast Blues"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security

Location: Sorg's quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.28, 06h55

***

Shirik was dressed, showered, and ready for duty. But she had something she wanted to do before shift started. She made her way to Sorg's quarters and rang the chime, hoping he was awake.

When the chime rang Sorg Jurell groaned and rolled over. The sheets were pulled over his head. He shared quarters with three other guys. Two of them were on Gamma shift and C1C Patrick Haven was in the 'fresher getting ready for Alpha. It was he that called out, "Come," so that the computer would open the door.

As it swished open he leaned out to check out the visitor with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He saw Shirik and gave her a wave. "You looking for Sorgie?" He pointed at the bunk in the other side of the shared room. It was typical of the two-up two down bunks for four separated by the living and dining space. Crewmen didn't get the same lavish quarters that officers received. "He's still in bed." He flashed a frothy grin and went back into the 'fresher, leaving Shirik in the doorway.

She quirked an eyebrow over at the covered bundle in bed, and gave the helpful crewman a grin. She made her way over to the bunk and gave its occupant a swat. "Come on, time to get up out of bed. Rise and shine," she called.

"Go...away." The muffled voice was thick, dehydrated.

She grinned, remembering when she said that to Saavar. She reached to peel the blanket from his head. "You don't sound so good...rough night?"

Sorg peeked blearily from under the covers. "What time is it? Oh don't worry about that...just do me a favor and get me a coffee? Black - no sweetener. I have a hangover that would kill a Klingon. I guess I shouldn't have had the Denebian whiskey." He pushed the covers off his face. He was bare chested and his muscular arm went to cover his eyes.

She smiled fondly down at him, taking a moment to enjoy the view before heading for the replicator. "It's the least I can do," she called back.

As she returned with a steamy cup she said, "You know, I wouldn't serve coffee to just anyone."

He sat up more fully but his eyes were bloodshot. He smiled weakly as he reached for the mug. His first action was to take a sip and groan with pleasure at the taste. "Thanks, Shiri, Prophets my head is ringing." He sounded better already, but he looked a mess. His short blonde hair was spiky and a light covering of darker blonde bristles covered his face. As he drank he sat in a cross-legged position so that she had room to sit. "Sorry for the appearance," he chuckled. His body was lean, but hard. Defined slabs of muscle and cords moved as he made himself more comfortable. He wore the standard issue Starfleet sleep shorts.

Shirik sat on the bed beside him, her legs dangling over the side. She looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot. "Shh...don't call me Shiri unless nobody else is around to hear," she smiled. No doubt he picked the nickname up from hearing Caly say it all night at the party. "Believe me, you have nothing to be sorry for there," she said, letting her eyes wander the view appreciatively. "I didn't realize you'd drank so much at the party. Are you going to be able to show up for duty today?"

He grinned. "It wasn't the party, it was the bull session in here last night!" He shook his head carefully. "Oh...that's not good." He took another sip. "You want breakfast?" he asked. "Or are you here just to make me suffer?" Hs grin was teasing.

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Celebrating?" she smiled. "I came to ask you to breakfast, actually. Without the troops."

The faint shuffling in the 'fresher evolved into Patrick Haven stepping out into the living area. "Do I smell coffee?" he asked. He was dressed in a short robe and he gave Shirik a grin. "Hey, sir...that was one hell of a party, hey? Very cool dress by the way, sir."

Shirik inclined her head at him. "Thank you. Indeed, the party was rather enjoyable."

Haven looked at the two sitting on the bed and he grinned. "I'll make myself scarce, Sorgie. Have a good breakfast." He nodded to Shirik as he grabbed his uniform and boots from his bed and headed back into the 'fresher.

Shirik raised an eyebrow at Haven as he vanished into the bathroom.

Sorg Jurell shook his head and drank more coffee. "That's fine with me." He drank again. "We can stay here if you like. I'll grab a shower if you don't mind waiting?"

She nodded. "That's fine. By all means, I'll wait." She smiled slightly to herself as she remembered his visit to her quarters for breakfast. The situations were almost exactly reversed.

He drank the last of the coffee, feeling slightly better. "Need to fix this headache though," he mumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed. He stood up and stretched the kinks out of his aching muscles and went to the replicator to order the medication and a glass of water.

Haven stepped out of the 'fresher in full uniform. "See ya later, dude," he grinned. "Ma'am," he nodded at Shirik. With a wink at Sorg that Shirik couldn't see he stepped out of their quarters leaving the two alone.

She nodded at him. "Crewman."

Jurell ignored it inference and swallowed the pill and the water. "Won't be long," he said as he walked across the room. "Make yourself comfy." He headed into the 'fresher.

She nodded and looked around the room. Probably his bed was not the most appropriate place to sit, she decided, so she rose from the bed to have a seat in the common living space and wait, much as he had. As she sat there listening with her keen hearing, she found herself wondering what he'd been thinking that morning when she was in the shower.

In the 'fresher Sorg was thinking similar thoughts. What was she thinking.... More importantly why had she chosen to come to his room this morning? Had it been because he hadn't danced with her? He'd spent the entire evening with Calyca, and he'd really enjoyed it. Now Shirik was here...he couldn't help wondering if his being with her friend had been a catalyst for this morning. Did she feel something for him?

He hurried with the shower. The little blue pill working its magic as he washed and dried under the sonic settings. He stepped out feeling far better and slipped into his robe that was hanging inside the door.

Stepping out into the living space he saw her on the sofa and smiled. He made his way almost self-consciously to the drawers beside his bed and pulled out a clean uniform. "Won't be a minute," he said and went back into the 'fresher. There was no way he was going to repeat her performance and get dressed in front of her!

She watched him cross the room, knowing he had to be thinking about the similarities of the other morning as she was. She grinned to herself as he retreated to dress in the bathroom. He obviously wasn't as brave as she was. A pity, she thought. "Take your time," she called.

"I will..." he called out. "How about you order up the breakfast! Pancakes, maple syrup, breakfast cake, another coffee and a serve of mixed Bajoran breakfast fruit...that'll start me off." He started to don the uniform.

"Yes, sir," she grinned, getting up to retrieve the order from the replicator and place it out on the table. For herself she got fried eggs, toast, a stack of pancakes, and orange juice. She had everything in place and was re-seating herself by the time he emerged.

In fresh Class As he sat at the table and grinned, feeling better without a hangover. He reached for his coffee and took a grateful mouthful. "Thanks," he said. "You can drop the sir when we're alone, Ensign," he added seriously.

"I was teasing," she said, stuffing some pancake into her mouth. Shirik didn't usually eat very much at breakfast, but the last couple of times she'd eaten more. She washed it down with some juice. "Did you enjoy the party last night?" she asked.

He grinned. "Yes I did catch that," he nodded and reached for the syrup, pouring a lavish amount onto the pancakes. "I loved the party last night." He cast a grin at her over the table and had more coffee. "Did you?"

"I found it very enjoyable," she said. "I haven't danced so much in one night in a great many years..." She regarded him as she chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "I was a bit disappointed that we didn't get to dance..."

He looked across the table at her. "I had a date."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "And...?"

"I wouldn't have been...proper." He shrugged. "Besides...the way you danced with T'Kal.... I mean - it was pretty clear how you felt." He fixed her with a serious look. "I think it was pretty clear to everybody."

"That's irrelevant," she said. "It didn't stop me from dancing with other people, or them dancing with me." She looked down to her plate and swallowed some more juice. "I just thought you didn't want to dance with me..."

"I didn't," he replied. "I didn't want everybody to see me the way they saw you...in love with someone I can never have." He stopped to pick up his coffee mug, talking as if it was casual conversation. "I also didn't want to embarrass Caly. I invited her on a date, I like her, and I think she likes me. That's a good start. Don't you think?"

She looked back up at him. "I see. You would have been ashamed to have been seen dancing with me, because of your feelings," she said tightly. She dug into her food once more, her attention focused solely there. "Yes. I thought you two would get along well."

"Not ashamed," he said pointedly. "I'm not that public a person...I can't go out there in front of the whole crew and make a display of the way I feel about someone who is engaged to someone else. You did that on purpose. You got him to dance with you and then you.... It wasn't fair on Commander Lyrr to do that! You didn't respect her at all. T'Kal is spoken for and Lyrr wears his Betrothal Bracelet. You should leave him the hell alone! Not try to seduce him on the dancefloor with everyone watching in the hopes that it would cause a scene! That was just plain bad manners."

Shirik's eyes flashed then went cold, and she put down her fork with a bang, getting to her feet. She just stared at him wordlessly for a moment, anger seething in her, but she didn't trust herself to speak. She knew she would say something that she might not be able to take back later. For a moment she stood there trembling in anger and indecision, then she reached to remove the bracelet from her wrist and set it on the table. "If I am such an embarrassment to you, then perhaps you should find someone more worthy of this." Her jaw clenched, her gaze left him and she stalked for the door to leave.

"The Klingons have a saying. Only a friend will stab you in the face. You don't like hearing the truth, Shirik? Does what I say upset you so much that you don't want to be my friend? Friends are supposed to be able to tell each other the truth - even when it hurts to hear it." He stood from the table and this time he came to his full height and his tone changed. "Walk out that door now and you'll never see me again as a friend. I mean that."

She paused near the door. Her whole body was stiff with anger. Everything inside her told her to keep going, that it would be the easiest way to sever the ties for good, the way she'd originally wanted to. But he was an offworlder, he couldn't possibly understand the gravity of the insult he had dealt her. "Friends aren't supposed to stab one another at all," she said between clenched teeth. "On Drokar, you would have been put to death for such an insult." She turned slowly to face him. "Do I want a friend that will stab me? Shall I find some way to stab you in return? Is that what friendship means to you?"

"You're not on Drokar, Shirik." His voice was quiet, but commanding. It was as if a different man stood before her. His ice blue eyes were locked on hers like two sapphire lasers. "Stop throwing that in my face like it's important to me because it isn't. I know I'm not equal in your eyes, and I never will be, but Prophets, woman, you need to learn to stop listening to the little voice in your head that tells you Thou art great! The saying Your Royal Highness is a simile. It means that only a friend will tell it like it is. Last night you made a mistake. In front of the entire crew, you let everyone including the Captain and the XO of this ship know how you feel about Commander T'Kal. Not only that, but you made it totally impossible for the man to be your friend. In front of his future wife, you dared him to make a choice! Well he made it didn't he? He chose her, but now he'll never be able to meet with you as a friend, because everyone knows that you want him. He can no longer afford to be in the same room with you alone. Ever. Didn't you realize that?"

"The fact that we are not on Drokar does not lessen the insult," she said. Her eyes were as hard and cold as his, and met his gaze unflinchingly.

She forced herself to listen and not interrupt, letting him have his say. When he was done, she blinked. Is that what she'd done? Is that what Ben thought she'd done? She didn't care what the captain or the XO thought, and she didn't really care who knew how she felt about T'Kal. But she did care what Ben thought of her, and Ben was Bajoran, just like Sorg. If Sorg thought this way, did Ben, too? She shook her head slowly, the anger slowly melting away, and she leaned back against the doorframe as if her strength was draining away with it. "That's not what I did..." she said. "I just wanted to dance with him, that's all..."

Sorg saw her deflate and he stepped toward her. He gripped her arms and drew her in and embraced her. "You are my friend, Shirik," he said softly. "But you didn't just dance with him did you? You dressed for him last night. Everything you did last night was directed at him. Instead of being a friend to him, you made it clear you were a rival to Lyrr. He's not the kind of man to ignore that. Bajorans are extremely family oriented, Shirik. He'll do what's right for Lyrr. It's out in the open now - he can't say she's just a friend anymore. He won't be able to be alone with you without someone thinking that something might be going on. What do you think the medical department staff at the party will have thought? Do you think they will look back on the hours he spent dropping in to see you as just innocent after seeing the two of you dance? They'll be looking back at everything you've ever done with him and wonder. He can't be able to accept that - and you declared yourself to Lyrr Tayla. She might have wondered before - but now she knows for sure. You are the enemy to that woman. The XO, Shirik!"

The stiffness went out of her frame as he embraced her, and she was distraught with what he was telling her. These thoughts had never even occurred to her; she never considered that the offworlders might see things differently. "I don't care if she's my enemy," she said quietly. "We could never have been anything else anyway... It's probably just as well. I planned for that to be the last time I went near him or spoke to him anyway." She sighed. "And it won't matter in another few months anyway...because I'm leaving this ship as soon as we return to the Alpha quadrant." Then her posture slumped in near-defeat and her eyes welled with tears. "I've dishonored him..." she whispered. "I didn't mean to, Jurell... I didn't know...."

He held on to her and let her cry. Thinking upon what he knew of her, he realized she truly did live for the moment. Nothing she'd ever done had considered the future, she made decisions based upon the here and now and that would be her downfall in the Federation. When you were a Princess of a court that allowed you to do everything and anything on a whim, you would naturally tend toward sating every desire or living every experience. Shirik didn't consider the future because she thought that she could change it when ever she wanted. It wasn't like that here. How would she learn unless she went through these painful experiences? Sorg knew that she'd suffer for it, but he couldn't do anything to help her.

"It'll be okay, Shiri." He stroked her hair and held her tightly. "Don't worry about thoughts of leaving. That's six months away and things will get better before then, you'll see." He sighed heavily, she was trembling and he didn't know what to do. "I wish I could make it go away for you," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Shiri."

She held him tightly, closing her eyes and pressing them against his shoulder until the tears stopped coming. Finally she took a deep breath and raised her head. "Leaving is the only way out for me, Jurell. I can't do what my heart tells me, and I can't do what my head tells me. I need to get off this ship and away from all this." She looked almost like she would bolt right now, if there were anywhere to bolt to. "It feels like no matter what I do, I hurt someone."

He cupped her cheek, feeling the warmth and the wetness of her tears. "If I could take away your pain I would," he said softly. "I don't want you to leave." He gazed into her violet eyes and could almost feel her heart breaking. "Please don't think about leaving." He had such a strong urge to kiss her, to take away her pain in the only way he knew how, but it was her eyes that stopped him. They weren't the right color, and a tiny voice inside of him was whispered that they should be the startling green of emeralds.

She smiled faintly. "I know you would," she said quietly. She sighed and met his gaze, her eyes searching his. "There's time yet...we'll see."

He nodded and gave her a smile. "Come on," he said as he brushed a strand of silken white hair away from her wet cheek. "Let's finish breakfast." He bent slightly and planted a kiss on her brow. "I'm sorry for upsetting you," he said softly.

She smiled slightly. "I'm sorry... I'm really not hungry any more."

He nodded. "Okay, are you going to be okay for duty?"

"Yeah... I'll be fine. What's my alternative? Sit around and mope? Work will occupy my mind, so I don't have to think about anything else..."

He nodded in agreement and hugged her again. After a long moment he said, "Do you still want my bracelet?"

She smiled as she returned his hug gratefully. "Do you still want me to have it?" she asked.

"Do Trills have spots?" he chuckled.

She squeezed him a bit before releasing him. "Very well, I'll take it." She smiled, and moved to the table to retrieve the bracelet. She held it in her hand for a long moment. "I've thought about returning it before," she said softly. "I thought it would be easier to sever my bond to you if I didn't have it. But I understand the meaning behind it, and I'm honored that you think so highly of me to offer it." She slipped it onto her wrist once more.

"Then I'm honoured that you take it back," he said, stepping over to her. "There's a traditional way one receives it." He helped her with the clasp. Once locked together he raised her wrist to his lips and lightly kissed the catch and her dark skin. "Sealed with a kiss," he smiled.

She grinned, her cheeks darkening slightly. "I have something for you, too." She took his hand in hers and slipped something into it, closing his fingers around it. "My people don't give bracelets and things...and this seemed more fitting to me." In his hand is the commendation pin she'd been given at the ceremony.

He smiled as he looked at it. "You earned this," he said softly. "It goes on your dress uniform. I appreciate your offer, Shiri, but I can't accept it. If I'd wanted one I wouldn't have turned down Commander T'Kal's recommendation. I did my duty - and I saved a friend's life. You earned this. What you did was more noteworthy of the honour than I." He took her hand and slipped it back into her palm. "Thank you, Shiri, but this is yours. You earned it. I do not seek honors."

"Please, Jurell, I want you to have it. I didn't deserve one any more than you did, and I want you to have it as a reminder of me like your bracelet is a reminder of you." She knew that if she had to take it back it would likely be stuffed in a box with her Dominion War Veteran pin, and never see the light of day again. "Please honor me by taking it."

"Regulations require you to pin it on your dress whites," he smiled. "If you really want to say thank you, I'd prefer something more personal than an award you don't think you deserve." He grinned.

She was disappointed. "I have nothing else to give," she said quietly. She stuffed the pin back into her pocket. How ironic was that, she thought. Fifth Princess of Drokar, one of the wealthiest people on her planet, and she had nothing of value to offer her friend.

He shook his head. "You don't get it do you?" he asked softly. "I don't need you to give me anything, Shirik. Just being my friend is more valuable to me than anything you could possibly own." He chuckled. "I do love you...as a friend," he smiled. "That is what I value."

"I know that, I just...thought it would be nice if you carried something of mine, as I carry something of yours. That's all." She shrugged. She smiled at him, but wondered at the new phrase tacked onto his love. Were his feelings for her changing? Had his date with Caly had that much effect? Part of her hoped so, another part of her was just a bit sad at the knowledge of what she was losing, again. "I'm glad," she said. "Well...we should get going. And I need to talk to T'Kal...I need to apologize. How do you think is best to go about it?" Given her cultural blunders thus far, she thought it prudent to ask for advice on this one.

"Then give me a Friendship Bracelet," he smiled sincerely. "Seriously, leave him alone. Don't go anywhere near him at all. It can only make it worse. Let him come to you if he's going to."

She frowned slightly. "That is what I originally intended to do," she said. "But, if I've offended him as you've said...don't you think I owe him an apology? Won't he be further offended if I don't even try to offer one? Maybe I could just send a text message...?"

"It's not so much that you offended him, Shirik, you just made your feelings very public, and now he can't say that he didn't know...or that you are just friends. Now he has to watch what he says if he wants to continue your friendship, or he'll break it off entirely and do the right thing by his fiancée. I'd say that he'll do the latter. I'd leave him alone if I were you."

"But regardless of how I feel, we are nothing more than friends. That's all we can ever be, and I've known that for some time." She nodded. "You're right. I guess I'll just stick with my original plan, then." Sever ties. Get some distance. "Well, then...let's go to work." She straightened her back, composed her features, and strode for the door.

"I have to have breakfast," he pointed out.

"Oh shit...you didn't eat. You'd better hurry. Damn, I'm sorry...we should have eaten and fought later," she smiled faintly.

He laughed and went to the replicator and ordered a high energy food shake. He drank it down and followed her. "I guess I can wait till lunch," he observed. "You know I won't have time for normal breakfast in a few days. I'll be training from 0500hrs to 0700hrs. I'm on the new Tac Team." His voice sounded pleased. They left his shared quarters.

"Oh... Well, I suppose I can have breakfast with Caly, or just go back to eating alone. So, what's a Tac Team do?"

"Tactical Operations. Assault team basically." They walked through the corridors of the Sulu to the Computer Core, chatting like equals rather than Crewman and Ensign.

"Assault team? That sounds dangerous." She looked around the core as they entered. "But then, I imagine standing around here all day hasn't been very interesting work for you. Just don't get killed." She smiled, moving to her workstation to begin the day's routine.

---

"Shift Rotation"
Captain Matthew Salinger
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal

Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.28, 08h40

***

Benedict T'Kal stepped across the bridge to the captain's Ready Room. He tapped the chime, padd in hand, dressed in a Class A uniform. He felt pretty good, and all morning he'd seen happy, smiling faces. It felt good to see the smiles back. Last night's party had been a great success. The awards had publicly recognised the hard work and dedication of the crew, the whole day had been one positive event after another, and already morale had increased significantly.

From within the room beyond the door, Captain Salinger's voice rang out with, "Come." As Ben entered, Salinger was standing near the viewport, looking out into the vastness beyond. He turned and smiled at the chief of security. "Commander," he said. "Congratulations on your commendation."

Benedict nodded. "Thank you, Captain. Though I hardly think it's deserved." He grinned. "I'm more used to dodging phaser fire than playing on a computer for my commendations." He stepped further to Salinger's desk. "I have a few requests, sir."

"Certainly," Matt said, and indicated the chair across from his desk.

As Benedict sat, he placed his padd on the surface of the desk. "Thank you, sir." He leaned back with a broad smile. "The party was great," he observed. "I don't think I've seen this many smiles in a long while."

Matt grinned. "It was indeed," he responded. "I think it definitely went a long way to boosting morale."

Benedict chuckled. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time." He looked up at Matt Salinger and held his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry about the hockey game, sir; I think I was a little too...sensitive. It won't happen again. But I would like to actually watch a game...if you're willing to give it another shot?"

"More than willing," Matt said with a laugh. "And, hopefully this time we can make it through the whole game before Xayella tries to taunt Lyrr again."

"Well I hope that won't be the case," T'Kal said with a grin. "Last night may have gone a long way toward inter-departmental relations."

"Oh really," Matt said, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Benedict laughed. "Well, everybody hit the dance floor...and the food was great. And I think the crew met as people instead of crew...so that will break down a few barriers. I made a point of trying to mingle as much as I could...and it looked like you were enjoying it too," he pointed out.

"I was," Matt answered. "It was a fun evening, and one I hope we can duplicate in the future. Though, I hope it's not required to boost morale in the future."

Benedict shrugged. "We'll see..." His eyes were vaguely troubled as he thought of operations, but he thought it best to let Tayla tackle that. If he broached it he was positive that she'd see it as interference and get upset with him. "I have a list of roster changes - that goes through Commander Lyrr, but there's one I wanted to talk to you about, sir. Taylor Bennett." He slid the padd onto the captain's desk. "I'd like permission to move her to Beta shift and give her a shot at the Assistant Chief slot. Lieutenant Hex suggested it, he's willing to shift to Gamma. It'll serve two purposes. Lieutenant Bennett will get more experience on Beta shift, she's worthy of it and her performance has been flawless. Tactically it also allows a heavily experienced Tactical commander to be on the Bridge during Gamma rotation. Out here, that may be invaluable. Arthas has fleet tactical experience and flag officer experience from his Trill symbiont, so as a backup for the Gamma command officer he'll be ideal. On my Gamma command rotations, he'll take Alpha, so the bases are still covered. He's not precious about the position, sir, if anything he sees the same potential that I see in Bennett, and wants to give her the break."

Matt picked up the padd, glanced over it, and then gave T'Kal a nod. "Sounds like a good plan all around," he said. "Go ahead and make the changes, and log the new shift schedule. If she's ready for it, she can start her next shift, I imagine."

Benedict grinned and nodded. "Thanks, Captain. Is there anything else you need from me?"

Matt chuckled. "At the current time," he said, "no. Things are thankfully quiet for the time being, but I'm certain we'll see a little more excitement before too long."

"No problem, sir, I hope it won't be as exciting as recent events." He stood with the grin still playing around his lips. "I'll pass on your compliments to Lieutenant Bennett and get her on shift this afternoon." He nodded and left the captain to the chores of his own command.

---

"The Lunch Thing"
By: Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: USS Sulu, Mess Hall
Stardate: 57908.28, 12h00

***

Caly had instructed the computer to remind her so she'd be sure and not be late for her lunch with Jurell. And it was a good thing she had, or she'd still be waist deep in an access panel and dotted with smudges. But she was there, in the corridor outside the Mess Hall at twelve hundred hours mostly clean and smudge free. And she was a wee bit nervous to boot. Which was just ridiculous really. What did she have to be nervous about?

Sorg Jurell stepped out of the turbolift right outside the Mess Hall a couple minutes after 1200hrs. He was a stickler for duty protocols, and had left his post in the Computer Core at exactly 1200hrs. He had the same knot in his gut as he'd had the previous night on the walk to Calyca's quarters. It wasn't exactly fear, but it was a sign that he had a significant stake in what would happen at lunch. He hadn't even told Shirik he was having lunch with Caly. He'd felt guilty, she seemed odd this morning, after coming to his quarters earlier to drag him out of bed. He didn't quite know how to take it. Was she jealous? He got the distinct impression she wasn't as happy as she'd said she was that he had taken Caly to the party.

Maybe something she ate at the party hadn't exactly agree with her because her stomach was suddenly feeling a wee bit...unsettled, and had been ever since the computer reminded her of lunch. It wasn't a "date", it was only a thing. That's all, just a...thing.

He was so deep in these thoughts that he almost didn't see Calyca standing outside the Mess Hall. She was leaning with her back resting against the bulkhead, her legs lightly crossed at the ankles to keep them from fidgeting and her eyes cast downwards towards the puzzle in her hands. He blinked as his eyes passed over her red curls before he registered that it was her and stopped in his tracks. It was that moment when she chose to look up, almost as if she'd known he was there. His blossoming smile showed her how he felt about seeing her there, and it did cover up the tightening of that cold ball of nausea that had sprang into blossom at the same time. The feeling was bolstered by the beautiful grin that spread over her face and the sparkle that lit the green eyes watching him cover the last few steps between them.

"Hey," he managed to say. "Hungry?" Would he be able to eat anything? Prophets...his heart was already tripping.

"Hey," she managed to respond. Why was her stomach suddenly in her throat? "Starved." The reply was automatic and she wondered if she'd be able to eat anything.

Jurell grinned. "Good, we'd better get a seat before we miss out." He waved her ahead of him and they entered the Mess Hall.

There were about a hundred and fifty crew on the Sulu, and they were divided into three shifts, so at any one time there were at least fifty crew asleep, fifty on their personal off-time and fifty on duty. As the fifty on duty had to man stations, the rotation at meal break usually allowed only around twenty to thirty officers to take the break at any one time. Of those on personal time, Alpha shift was the most favoured time for Gamma shift personnel to socialize after work, and for Beta shift personnel to socialize before work, and meal breaks were the most active on the social timetable.

It meant that the Mess Hall served between fifty and eighty crew between 1200hrs and 1400hrs (the officers usually ate in the officer's lounge). That was a variable estimate. Sometimes it was very busy, other times it was almost quiet depending upon the crew activities. Of course during times when the holodecks were shut down or restricted to training and duty related scenarios, the Mess Hall, Arboretum, Gymnasium and Lounges became the focus of crew activity.

After the party, the Mess Hall was relatively quiet. Those on personal time were most likely sleeping off the party, as Jurell would have loved to do. They joined a very sparse line-up for the replicator.

"Déjà vu," Sorg smiled as he stood behind her in line. He had the urge to reach out to touch her, just to establish the personal contact, but he didn't. All morning he'd been thinking about her and worrying about all the things they'd talked about and whether she'd treat him differently in the light of a new day. Shirik had been positively sullen all morning, hardly saying a word.

She seemed a bit quieter, but that could easily be explained by the setting. Last night had been a party and people were normally more outgoing during those times. "What's that?" She turned and smiled at him, asking about what he ordered. She didn't look any different, save for she was wearing her uniform instead of a dress.

"Déjà vu?" he asked. "You know...the feeling like you've been there before." He smirked. "It's not a dish." He turned to the replicator.

"Oh! Breakfast," she laughed at her own misunderstanding. "You worry too much," she told him out of the blue.

He looked at her and his brow raised slightly. "One serving of hasperat, a Mug of Jamaica Blue Mountain Coffee, hot and a slice of Hajido." As the replicator beeped and materialized the order he said, "Worry? Why?"

"Why do you worry?" she asked and ordered the same thing he had, grinning at him when it materialized. "Or why do I think you worry too much?"

"The last one," he said chuckling and avoiding the next guy in line from being hit by his tray as he stepped out of the line. "Table by the window?" He nodded to the vacant table at the far end of the Mess Hall and she answered him with a dip of her head in agreement along with a, "Perfect." They started walking through the gaps between seating and tables, Caly leading the way at his motion for her to proceed him.

"It's there, in your eyes and the crinkles around them," she answered his question when they reached the table and she slipped into a seat.

He sat and set his plates out and took her tray when she'd done hers, setting it aside. "I have crinkles?" He looked concerned and then smiled. "You're probably right. I do worry too much." He sat back and looked a little sheepish. "To be honest with you, Caly, I was a nervous about seeing you again...after last night, or this morning."

"Very nice crinkles. Goes with the whole dangerous thing," she grinned and propped her chin in her hand and elbow on the table as she looked at him. "Were you? Why?"

There were those green eyes again, and she was looking right through him. "I don't really know," he replied with a scowl that vanished into a smile as he shrugged. "Last night was...really special. I guess now I have to live up to that."

"No, you do not." She picked up her fork and pointed it at him to emphasize her next words. "Because if you do, then I do, and can't we just not do that?" she asked, and her warm smile was there, curving the corners of her mouth. "It was special. And I was kind of nervous too," she admitted. "Is this stuff gonna kill me?" she teased and poked at the food on her plate.

He laughed, suddenly totally at ease with her. She could do that so easily it was almost frightening. "Haven't you had hasperat before?" He chuckled as she shook her head.

"Never. Just now I was afraid I'd say it wrong and get something I'd have to eat just to save face," she teased. "What am I in for?"

"I hope you enjoy spicy food. It's mainly a vegetable mix with a spiced sauce that can be mild to really hot served between layers of Sajoh which is almost the same as Terran Pasta." He reached over and pointed at her slice of Hajido with his knife. "That's a sweet dessert that takes the sting out of the Hesparat. Very similar taste to Terran caramel but it's not as soft. The flaky topping is white chocolate - we Bajorans are good at adapting." He grinned. "Chocolate - the most valuable contribution to peace between the sexes ever known."

"That's because there's a chemical in it that helps counter depression and can have a very subtle euphoric effect," she grinned over at him. "I love hot stuff. In chemistry we used to try and outdo each other and see who could make the hottest edible stuff and who could eat it," she told him. "So I take a bite of the Hesparat and then keep it from frying my mouth with the Hajido?"

"You can...but usually you just eat the Hesparat and save the Hajido for dessert." He took a swallow of coffee and for a moment his blissful enjoyment of it was plainly written on his face. "You're obviously smarter than I am," he grinned. "An Engineer...weapons systems huh? I peeked at your security file."

She smiled at that look on his face, committing what made it to memory, and then laughed lightly at what he said. "Yes. But...actually," she leaned in closer to whisper in a conspiratorial kind of way, "I'm just a tinkerer at heart." Her green eyes sparkled with that impish delight he was getting used to seeing. "You can read it if you like."

He leaned forward over the table as she did with a playful smile on his lips, which made her laugh. "I did...and you are one very smart girl...as well as pretty." He sat back and sliced off a thick layer of Hasperat dripping with the red sauce and ate it with relish.

"Daddy used to call me his insatiable, greedy little sponge," she admitted, watching him and waiting a moment to see how hot it looked before mimicking him and taking a bite herself. Her eyes widened and she pulled in a small breath. "Oh! That's good. And hot," she grinned.

"Sikara's Hasperat is to kill for," he grinned, "but us crew-types get replicated unless we want to brave the officers lounge." He shoveled another bite and chewed with relish.

"I can't imagine what home cooked tastes like with this being as good as it is," she grinned back and continued eating.

"My mother used to make it so hot you'd break out in a sweat and lose the use of your mouth for a week. I've heard he makes a mean Kijara too; that's a hotpot stew, a traditional Bajoran recipe that is loaded with spices - you'll have to try it sometime with me." He smiled as he gazed into her eyes again; she was so easy to talk to.

"I'd like that. But I think I'd prefer to keep the use of my mouth," she teased with a soft chuckle, green eyes gazing at him with that impish delight sparkling from their depths.

He nodded. Eating steadily. They only had thirty minutes before he had to be back in the computer core. "I missed breakfast this morning." He looked up between forkfuls.

Caly quirked a brow at him. "You did? Why's that?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"Shirik rousted me out of bed, and I had a terrible hang-over. The guys in my room were still drinking when I got home." He shook his head ruefully. "I shouldn't have joined in, but they insisted...and there was no way I'd have gotten to sleep with that rowdy mob playing poker all night."

She laughed softly and with complete understanding about the hangover. "Remind me to share my cure with you," her eyes twinkled mischievously.

He grinned and for no apparent reason he blushed as he nodded.

"What was Shiri up to? I knew I should have gone looking for her this morning, but I didn't eat either."

"She came by to wake me up for breakfast," he admitted almost guiltily. "I don't know why she had to choose this morning to do that, she's never done it before. I think it was because I didn't dance with her last night."

Caly quirked a brow at that almost guilty tone. "She must have had a reason. Shiri always does," she smiled. "What happened?" She was working on dessert now and savoring every bite.

"She asked me why I didn't dance with her." He looked across the table at Calyca and his expression was troubled. "We argued a little bit. She cried. I made a few observations about last night that she didn't want to hear and she said that if I'd been on Drokar I'd have been sentenced to death for it." He sighed and finished the Hasperat with a last mouthful. He was still hungry.

"Sentenced to death? Oh dear...." She motioned to the Hasperat that she'd left on her plate in favor of the dessert she was presently enjoying, silently asking if he wanted it. "You said something about the dance and T'Kal, huh?"

He reached for the half eaten meal without even a second thought. "Yeah I had to. She thought it was just a dance...so I told her what she didn't want to hear and she threatened to walk out on me." He gave Caly a grim smile. "I told her that if she did that I'd no longer be her friend. She reconsidered."

Caly drew in a breath and blinked. "Whoa.... You know..." She wagged her fork and bite of Hajido at him. "She likes you way more than she's admitting. Way more. What'd she say about T'Kal? I'm assuming you told her the same thing we talked about last night?"

"I did," he nodded. Caly's observation disquieted him. "Shiri is a friend, Caly. That's all." His voice took on a slight edge. He meant it. She'd had a chance - but she was too busy with every other man on the ship to consider him - until someone else did.

Her fork paused halfway to her mouth and she looked over at him, that 'edge' catching her attention in a heartbeat. "I know," she agreed simply and offered him a small smile. "I'm not even sure if she knows how she feels. That was just my observation. Don't worry, Jurell. It'll all work out like it should."

He felt relieved, a little...but he had to voice it. "She takes an interest only when I look at someone else." His brow ridges furrowed further, his scowl directed at his plate - he couldn't look at Calyca. "I know you've been friends for a long time. I don't want to come between you. So...if it would cause a problem...." His voice died, he just didn't want to say it. He couldn't say it. His gut twisted in a tight ball.

She had the overwhelming urge to reach across the table and smooth her fingers over those ridges, and her hand was even starting to reach for him when she caught herself and blinked. "Jurell..." she spoke his name softly. "Look at me...."

When he did, she smiled in understanding and encouragement. "It'll be alright. You have to trust in that. Things will work out."

He stared into her eyes for a long moment before his scowl began to fade and be replaced by a slight smile, which made her smile broaden a bit. "Okay. For some reason I fail to comprehend.... I believe you."

"That's because you know it's true," she interjected softly.

He looked away and then back. "Maybe you should speak to her after shift. She was pretty upset, I've never seen her cry before. She said she was going to transfer off the Sulu as soon as we get back to the Alpha Quadrant."

Caly nodded, her smile faltering a little. "It's on my to do list," she told him, smiling at her own words. "Don't your Prophets cover stuff like this in 'Destiny 101'?" she teased a little, trying to bring back his smile.

He did smile. Destiny 101? He laughed softly and shook his head. "Prophets, woman, you could make Lyrr belly laugh." He sobered slightly.

"I think I might pay to see that," she smiled and quirked a brow at his slightly sobered look. "What?"

"Made me think of T'Kal...and Lyrr. Shirik might be in for a hard time." He sliced into his dessert and offered the spoonful of white chocolate to Caly, then realized what he was doing. And the strange thing was that she didn't think anything of it, and was unconsciously and naturally leaning forward to part her lips and take the offered bite.

"Mmm... This is wickedly delicious," she smiled. "I know she might be. But she's strong. She's in pain, and it might get worse, but she'll be alright."

He just smiled rather bemused and sliced off another chunk. This time he ate it himself and the dessert melted in his mouth. "My favorite," he agreed, slicing it again and offering it to her, which she eagerly took. She'd already finished hers, but it was more interesting watching her eat with the obvious joy she got from it than actually tasting it himself. Weird.... "I hope you're right. I'd hate to lose her as a friend."

"We won't let that happen," she said with conviction and a wee bit of chocolate on her bottom lip.

He grinned, "You've...got some...." He pointed at her lip with the spoon which made her look slightly cross-eyed and down. "On your lip." With a slight pass of her tongue it was gone and her eyes were back on him.

"No...we won't," he agreed with the same note of determination. "We'd better get back to work."

"Yessir," she grinned and gathered plates to drop off at the recycler on their way out. "On the way you can tell me why you didn't dance with Shirik. Uh... If you want to," she smiled as they made their way to the turbolift.

He smiled knowingly and nodded. "I didn't want to." He grinned. "I already had a date." An explanation that had her quirking a brow at him and laughing quietly as the turbolift doors closed.

---

"Looking Up"
By: Captain Matt Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Captain's Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.28, 13h45

***

"Lieutenant Thaine reports the warp core is operating at maximal efficiency, though of course he's still working to get that little extra push out of the engines. Operations reports that power allocations have returned to standard levels and there have been no complaints of further malfunctions." Commander Lyrr Tayla scratched at an eyebrow as she scrolled through the padd towards the next report summary, sighed as she switched to cross her left leg over her right, and continued. "Doctor Sefton assures me that there is no more risk of infection by the virus originating on JJ324c, and Dr. Potts has given us much praise on that -- and I quote-- "rollicking good party" we delivered last evening." She chuckled and looked up at Matt from across his desk. "Can't get better than that, can we?"

"Yes," Matt said. "Not much passes 'rollicking good.' What's your assessment of the situation when you walk through the ship, Lyrr? Does it feel better out there now? I'm sensing a buzz of life among the crew again. But...but I'm not sure if that's just my own enthusiasm."

Lyrr laid her padd down against her knee and smiled tightly. "Well...it can't have made things worse, that's for certain. We need to just give it time, I think, though we can't always resort to throwing a party when the ship needs a morale boost."

"I agree," Matt answered. "I still believe that a large number of the crew behave more like spoiled children than Starfleet officers. I don't know what they're expecting, but it seems like a large number of them are either stepping over the line or close to it."

"There isn't much we can do about their mentality now - their Starfleet training is completed, they're set in their ways. Aside from disciplining them, how else can we modify their behaviour?"

"That's the difficulty," Matt said. "If we come down too hard, we have problems because we're too hard on them. If we don't come down or come down too softly, they have free reign and do what they want. It's a fine line, and one I never expected to have to walk with trained and mature Starfleet officers."

Lyrr sighed, and leaned back in her seat to drape one elbow over the backrest. "We can always punish them as I punished the four crewmen. Though, our first session is at the end of the week...so I can't be sure how it'll turn out. It's worth a try, though."

"Something to help them learn," Matt said. "I think that could work. Hopefully, though, it won't be an issue any longer."

"I guess we have to wait and see, don't we?" Lyrr stretched out her arm and lightly tossed the datapad onto Matt's desk with a heavy sigh. "So...any idea what we'll find on our next stop?"

"No idea," Matt said. "Initial scans indicate the possibility of inhabited worlds. And, I do believe reports are that the Wadi are nearby as well."

Lyrr gazed past his shoulder, through the large viewport providing a vista of the streaking stars outside. JJ324c was now long gone. "We'll make explorers out of this crew yet, Captain," she told him with conviction.

"Why, Lyrr," Matt said with a grin. "That was an optimistic sentiment."

She smiled tightly. "Just an observation, Captain, that's all."

"And an optimistic one at that," Matt said. "You're coming around, Commander."

"Was I that bad before?" she asked with a chuckle. "Besides, one of us needs a touch of cynicism."

"It's slightly more than a touch," Matt said. "But, maybe that's in the past. The new optimistic Lyrr is here now."

"Hardly new," she told him. "I think I just see things a little differently, now. Whether that's good or bad...I've yet to determine."

"I can't imagine being able to look at things in an optimistic point of view as ever being bad," Matt said. "Looking at life with a scowl only makes life seem dull and uninviting. If you're hopeful when you reach out, every experience is that much greater."

Lyrr nodded thoughtfully. "I'll have to try that." She smiled and retrieved her padd, scrolling through to the next section. "The cargo bay's almost nearly restocked," she mentioned off-hand.

"Good," Matt said with a nod. "Maybe we'll run into some trading vessels out here to finish restocking the rest of the way."

"I don't doubt Ensign Farrell enjoyed scavenging the planet for supplies," Lyrr quipped, and both shared a chuckle.

"Well, as long as we're leaving with only what we need," Matt said. "So, how are you doing personally after everything that's happened? You do seem much more relaxed."

"Relaxed how?" she asked suspiciously. "You mean...Commander T'Kal and I?"

"You don't seem as tense as usual," Matt said. "I heard you chuckle, even. It's a nice change, and one that I think the crew will appreciate."

"It's not a conscious change, Captain," Lyrr assured him. "Perhaps I...am a little less uptight," she admitted. Sighing, Lyrr told him, "Ben and I are progressing through our relationship well. That would tend to make most people more lighthearted, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed it would," Matt said with a grin. "And, no sighs. It's a good thing."

Lyrr smiled for his benefit. "Yes, Captain."

Matt laughed. "I will get a genuine smile out of you yet, Commander," he said. "Now, before our next big crisis, how would you and Mr. T'Kal like to join Xayella and I for another hockey game?"

"Are you sure that would work?" Lyrr was understandably skeptical.

"Hopefully things will go better than the last time," Matt said. "And, you seem to be dealing with your relationship better than before so perhaps that will help things some. Only one way to find out though..."

"And I refuse to be labelled a coward," Lyrr answered, "so...tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night," Matt said. "And, don't eat before, I'm doubling the number of hot dog vendors."

Lyrr grinned as she rose from her seat. "Ben will hate you. He insists that I'm gravely out of shape."

Matt gave her a wink. "There are ways to keep in shape," he said.

She was genuinely perplexed, but soon the suggestive quality of his smile became unmistakable. "Captain," Lyrr admonished, though as she exited his ready room, she left him with a wholly roguish smile.

"Good day, Commander," Matt said with a laugh as she was departing. "I'll see you later." Still chuckling, he sat down at his desk after she'd gone and picked up her padd. With the troubles of JJ324c finally behind them, and their course taking them further into their mission, things were definitely looking up.

---

"TAC Team"
by Ensign Derran Casey - Security Officer [NPC]
Ensign Kate Hansen - Security Officer [NPC]
Ensign Andrea Collins - Security Officer
Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist
Petty Officer 3rd Class Mitchell Mullens - Weapons Specialist [NPC]
Crewman 1st Class Ken Smith - Security Crewman
Crewman 1st Class Sorg Jurell - Security Crewman [NPC]
Crewman 1st Class Mark Rinaro - Weapons Specialist [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Security Briefing Room
Stardate: 57908.28, 17h07

***

Case surveyed the young faces setting atop gray training uniforms. They had fallen into their seats sloppily at his shouted command; Mullens, Rinaro, and Smith a little faster than the rest as those three had incurred some of the Chief's wrath previous to this occasion. Hansen and Collins sat with perfectly arrow straight spines though both had the slightest smirks of contempt, presumably for different reasons. Of all assembled, only Sorg Jurell regarded Chief Case with anything close to a nearly neutral expression...all the others were colored by preconceived notions.

Case turned to the Ensign on his right. Derran Casey was wearing his best Cheshire smile and an immaculate Class-A. Not a hair was out of place. "They're all yours, sir," Case grunted, evaluating the leader-to-be with one narrowed ebon eye.

Casey nodded and stepped forward, striking an appropriate commanding pose, but relaxed, used to command and born to it. He smiled, showing his perfect smile. "Thank you, Chief Case..." He surveyed his people. He waited until there was a deafening silence before commencing.

"I expect the Tactical Operations Team to meet some high standards. My standards." He looked at every face. "We will train. We will be the best. This team will be the cadre of choice that every other security officer will aspire to. When you walk through the corridors of this ship, your heads will be high. Your abilities will be beyond question. Your right to go into harms way ahead of any other will be won by your skill at arms, your bravery and your raw guts. You will be better than the rest and you will make me proud to serve with you." He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The fatherly smile broad.

"We will train in all aspects of Starship boarding actions, anti-boarding and hostage situations. We will examine ground actions and null-gravity combat. No environment will defeat us. No foe will better us. With my leadership and tactical expertise and your skill we will be unbeatable. Chief Case will bring you up to speed. The course curriculum will tax your every ability. It will not be easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is." He smiled at his own quip. "But I am completely confident in every one of you."

He looked around again, and finally nodded to Case. "Carry on, Chief," he said with a nod and moved to the side of the room.

Ahhh now we get down to brass tacks instead of flowery prose. Ken sat near the exit. He had been surprised when Chief had called out several names including Ken's and told them to follow. He hadn't known what to expect when entering the briefing room, some manner of drill was most likely; certainly not this; the exact type of duty Ken had not only been trained for but had wanted so bad when he first joined Starfleet.

Andrea stood there, mostly alone, not really sitting near anyone, but she was close enough to recognize, or not recognize as it turned out, anyone in the group. She'd been wondering what she was doing here. Perhaps it was her 'specialty' training, perhaps she was included in this group so she could get used to working with a team, who knew, but she wasn't liking it one damned bit.

"Physical training will be commenced in the gymnasium from 0500 to 0700 each and every morning," Case said tersely. "Speed training one day, strength and stamina the next, alternating until the end of the training cycle. You seven people will be the most fit on this ship or you won't be on this team, simple as that."

Casey nodded. His smile a little sly. You didn't get to be the best by slacking - his father had drummed that into him from a very early age and he exercised rigorously every single day. He didn't carry an ounce of spare flesh, it was all muscle and bone and true grit! He was looking forward to showing Case up. The bull-chested man looked strong, but Casey...he had will, and seven generations of Starfleet Flag ranked officers in his blood. If Starfleet had royalty, he knew he'd be blue-blooded.

Mullens looked at Rinaro and raised an eyebrow. The younger crewman smiled in anticipation of the challenge.

"Additionally, tactical operation drills will commence every day at 1700 in Holodeck One." Case surveyed the potential candidates. "Be late once, you and your body will regret it. Be late twice and it will no longer be an issue. Is that crystal clear?"

There were nods all around, vigorous in the case of Smith and Rinaro but barely perceptible on the necks of the two women. Hansen's brow was furrowed with heavy thought.

"Ensign Hansen," Case called out. "You look singularly troubled."

Hansen got to her feet. "I was wondering how long the drills would last, Chief." She had an authoritative quality to her voice and spoke as she would to an underling. "Two hours for PT and an undetermined time for drills in addition to a normal duty shift? That makes for a pretty rough day."

"Yes it does," Case said simply. There was silence between the two of them just long enough for it to become awkward before Case asked, "Are you wondering how this is going to affect your personal life?"

"Yes, Chief." Hansen smirked, her dark eyes surveyed Case.

Sorg had wondered that too. Personal life.... Prophets he hadn't had one, and now he'd met Caly and he was faced with this! He waited stone faced knowing what the answer was going to be.

"You no longer have one," Sorien stated clearly, taking a step closer. He looked her in the eye. "Now sit down."

There was the span of a few heartbeats as the Ensign considered giving the grim Chief a little advice on how to speak to an officer. However, under his stare Hansen slumped back into her seat, nearly to her own surprise.

Although reading Hansen's mind was impossible given Case's impairment, he correctly read her face. "You don't wear rank pips on a training uniform for a reason, Ensign. For the weeks to come from 0500 to 0700 and everyday at 1700 until Ensign Casey is satisfied, you are mine. Tactical operations are your religion now, Ensign, and I am your god. Are we understood?"

Hansen stirred uncomfortably. "Yes, Chief." Her voice was sullen, dark as her moods were wont to be. And once we're back in uniform I'll teach you a bloody lesson... she thought sourly.

Andrea couldn't help but smirk. Sure, she wasn't liking the fact that they would have little to no life left except these little training sessions, but hell, it wasn't just these training sessions she had to worry about. She had to attend counseling sessions and her regular duty.

Case nodded and looked to the group at large. "Are there any other concerns that I need to address? I'm feeling downright chatty." This tone was only lightly sarcastic and full of menace.

"Just ready to stop my grinnin' and drop my linen, Chief," Ken said, turning his head to the side, and lowered his voice just enough to get a reaction from those closest to him.

Rinaro smothered a snicker and Mullens did the same with a smile. Unfortunately for Smith, Mullens also glanced in Ken's direction with a warning in his eyes.

"Smith," Case said, following Mullens' glare. "Stand up."

Coming to full attention: "Yes, Chief?"

Case moved into Smith's space, coming so close that the young man couldn't make out the Chief's facial features. "You have something to say, Crewman?" he asked, his voice low and tight.

"Just excited to be part of the team, Chief." Ken fixed his focus on the seal of the Federation behind the podium.

"Curb your excitement, Smith," Case advised. "And sit down."

Smith took his seat, thankful to have gotten off easy, this time. The old man's sight may be off but his hearing was sharp as a tack.

Sorg smiled, not a noticeable smile, but his lips looked vaguely like they just might have risen a micron at the edges. He knew exactly what he was going to be in for. A part of him looked forward to it. It was something relatively new. Or old in his case, but made new again in a different setting. He knew why his name had been put forward for this, T'Kal had known. The Bajoran security Chief had always known, probably. It was his way of giving him the commendation that he'd turned down earlier. Sorg wasn't interested in rank or recognition. Not anymore. That was a long time ago. In another world. Rank no longer held the attraction it once did, when he'd served in the militia. Sorg Jurell was quite happy to serve in Starfleet at the lowest rank, just doing his job, no command responsibility, and largely being ignored because he preferred it that way. He didn't need to be responsible for the lives of others that way - just himself, and whoever happened to be in the immediate vicinity. It was easier that way.

"I am aware that at least a couple of you are problem children," Case continued, starting to pace. In actuality he avoided looking at anyone in particular though nearly everyone thought he stared at them. "If any of you are ever feeling the need for a bit of sympathy, quit this team and get to a counselor because I personally don't give a good goddamn if your parents didn't love you or if your homeworld was a hellhole or if someone exploited your people. Whatever personal baggage you're bringing with you needs to get stowed or you need to see your way to the door. This will be your only chance to walk away with no repercussions."

Andrea frowned at the 'problem children' comment and she stood up. "I'm not walking away, but I do have some questions."

Case pursed his lips, smiling a little. "And they are...?"

"Suppose someone, one of us perhaps, has other things, besides a social life that is, that they have to commit to?" Andrea replied.

Sorg suppressed the immediate grin that threatened to erupt on his face. He saw Mullens actually flinch and Rinaro winced like he was expecting something bad to happen. All of the enlisted in the room were trying madly to refrain from outright disbelief. No one wanted to show too much interest, nor look at Case and invite trouble, but the girl's question was just too much. They all waited for the reaction.

"Don't do us any favors, Ensign," Case said, simply. He pointed a thick finger at the door. "If you have other commitments get out and start committing to them." He kept his hand pointing at the door but looked around at others. "That goes for any of you...not just the ones so foolish as to say it out loud. If you have something you need to be doing then go do it. Don't waste my time."

It was calm. Deceptively calm. Derran Casey surveyed them from his position near the podium and saw the reactions of the enlisted. It was plain that they were actually eager to take part. Kate Hansen; always the sullen one (and nothing like her twin sister in engineering) also seemed satisfied to stay. Casey's eyes drilled into Andrea Collins. His ice blue stare and slight smirk of disdain an open challenge to the disgruntled woman. He'd already requested someone else from T'Kal to replace her, he didn't think she was worth the effort - or the show of faith that this assignment was for her. Casey didn't like failure. He saw failure written all over the woman's face. She was a criminal; there was no such thing as an ex-criminal in Casey's book. Dragged out of prison to serve during the Dominion War - it was a disgrace. She was a mercenary - a woman who killed for money. Starfleet had fallen far the day they had enlisted her!"

"You have a decision to make, Ensign." Case dropped his hand back down to his side and bore a hole in Collins with his single dark eye. "Make it so we can move on, with or without you."

Andrea wasn't one to be intimidated...by anyone. She didn't flinch, she didn't squirm, she didn't fidget. She stared him straight in the eye and said, "I'm staying." But she thought to herself, But I won't like it, nor did I volunteer for this.

"Oh, I'm so pleased, Ensign," Case said evenly. As she started to settle into the seat with a smirk, Case held out his hand. "Don't bother sitting down... On your feet! All of you! Report to Holodeck One! Ensign Collins will walk you through a warm up before your first drill! MOVE!!"

Andrea loved a challenge, and that was what she'd seen in Casey's eyes when he looked her over with his cold blue stare. Her green eyes may have been a warmer color, but they were just as cold as his blue ones. She loved challenges and she wasn't going to give him the pleasure of calling her a failure.

---

"Ops Takes Care of Its Own"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Lektar's quarters
Stardate: 57908.28 17h24

***

"Evenin'," Farrell said amiably.

Shirik had been waiting for him to arrive, although she hadn't overly been looking forward to it. She was still in uniform, and seated at the low table in the living area when he entered. "I won't keep you too long," she promised. "Have a seat."

"I'm glad, because I shouldn't stay long," he said, pulling a chair for himself. "People will think you're involved in my mutiny."

"Indeed...which is part of why I wanted to speak with you," she said. "I don't know where that rumor came from, but I don't like it overly much. It's splitting the crew even more."

"Steps are being taken," Farrell said seriously. "The rumor'll die in time."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What sort of steps?"

"Steps," he repeated. "The sort of steps that keep me from spending too much time in your quarters. What did you need?"

She frowned at that. "Do you think I'm recording you or something, too?" she asked. "Is there somewhere more secure you would prefer to speak?"

"Too?"

"You're more paranoid than I am, it seems, and that's quite a feat," she said. "But I wish to speak plainly, and openly, and if you don't feel comfortable enough here to do that, where do you prefer we go to speak?"

"What do you want to speak about?"

"Everything. Our department. Morale. Our places in Ops. Rumors. But I want us to both feel free to speak plainly."

"Then you start." He met her gaze unflinchingly.

"I suppose I should start by relaying the message I was asked to give you, from a crewman in Security. He's of the opinion that the motto going around, 'Ops take care of its own', is only alienating our department and you from the rest of the ship. The security department in particular is not well disposed towards Ops after recent events."

"Is that why they're threatening Ops crewmen in the turbolifts?"

She blinked. "Who was threatened? And by who?" she frowned. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." It better not have been Kaven, she thought.

"Oh?" Farrell asked casually. "Because Ops takes care of its own?"

She shot him a look. "Because we're all supposed to be working together. Inter-departmental squabbling needs to be nipped in the bud before it gets worse." She paused. "Most of the Ops crew may look to you for guidance, but the crew from other departments will more readily talk to me. That's why we all need to work together, both inside our own department, and with the other departments."

"Suppose you're right," Farrell said, looking at the ceiling nonchalantly and rubbing an eye. "Suppose I say so-and-so threatened such-and-such, so you go have a talk with so-and-so. When so-and-so asks who told you, what do you say?"

"I tell him it's irrelevant. What matters is that he is a Starfleet officer, and needs to start acting like one, before his actions gain him unwanted attention from his superiors." She paused. "I have breakfast now and again with a group of them. They're a reasonable bunch, and they tend to listen when I speak to them."

"Because you're T'Kal's mistress?"

Inwardly she winced. Perhaps Sorg had been right after all. "Is that what you believe I am?" she asked him.

"I don't know yet. That's what makes this little face-to-face so interesting. Surely you, descendent of the great noble house of Lektar, see the position this puts me in. You're obviously somehow involved with the Chief of Security, who is in turn engaged to the ship's XO. You two dance together and the heat coming off you is tangible. Then he spots Lyrr across the room and drops Lektar like a stone as soon as he can do so without embarrassing himself. So what is little Ensign Lektar, then? Is she the woman scorned, approaching Farrell the pariah to plot a little payback, or is she the woman obsessed, willing to interface with Farrell the rumored traitor in hopes of gaining dirt on an easy target with which to purchase T'Kal's attentions? And you think it's hard to trust me," Farrell shrugged, the picture of flippancy.

"What I do in my off hours does not bleed over into what I do while on duty," she said. "I am neither obsessed nor scorned, nor looking to payback anyone. What I am looking for is our department not to be looked down on like the garbage of the ship. I'm looking to feel like I'm actually part of our department. I'm looking for things to get better on this ship, and it can only do so if all of us are willing to work on it."

Farrell went serious immediately, and scrutinized her a moment. "Okay," he said. "What is it you intend to do?"

"First off, anyone harassing anyone else needs to be taken care of. I'm willing to speak to the security people about it. Secondly, I think we need more meetings. Half our department doesn't know the other half, and I'm in that group myself. I've only seen anyone other than you on a rare occasion in the lounge. I think we should have staff meetings where we can share ideas and brainstorm, and get to know each other so we can be more cohesive as a team."

"Uh huh," Farrell smiled dryly, unconvinced. "And in the current climate, how do we do that?"

"It shouldn't be hard to call a staff meeting. I would think a weekly meeting for status reports and idea sharing would be easily organized. I also think ops crewmen should be encouraged to spend off time with people outside of ops, also. The lounge shouldn't have a group of ops people at this table, a group of security people at that table, and a group of science people at this table."

"Great," Farrell said, totally without inflection. "When do you start?"

She reached for one of the PADDs on the table in front of her and began tapping on it. "What time do you think would be best to have meetings? Should we have one for each shift?" She watched him, waiting to see if he had any input.

Farrell stared at the PADD for an inordinately long time before raising his eyes to hers again. "You've started trusting me? Just like that?" he asked, his voice still flat.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Just because I don't completely trust you personally does not mean that I don't trust you to be able to do your job. Should I?"

"Should you trust me?"

"Should I not trust you to be able to do your job, and work as part of a team? Despite the rumors running around the ship, I've not seen indication that you can't do your job."

"Do you believe the rumors?"

"If you're asking do I believe you're planning to incite a mutiny, no. I believe you're smarter than that."

"Thank you!" Farrell said, with a heavy sigh of appreciation and relief. "It's about time somebody decided that."

"I've seen traitors and mutineers. You're not like them, from what I've seen." She turned her gaze to the PADD once more. "So then...meetings?"

"Already scheduled. I spoke to Sam."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" she asked. "When are they scheduled, and who do you have slated to attend?"

"Sam will meet with the shift supervisors daily, rather than weekly, to review basic housekeeping and keep the communication lines open. The shift supers are responsible for disbursing information to their respective shifts as they come on. Full-size department meetings won't start for a couple of weeks."

She nodded. "I think it's important for everyone in our department to be familiar with everyone else, at least to the point of knowing names. And to know that there is a chain of command other than Sam here and everyone else there."

"True, but that's going to have to wait."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Wait for what? We don't need formal meetings just to meet our co-workers and say hello."

"Yes we do," Farrell said grimly.

She frowned, feeling like she was missing something. "Why?"

Farrell sighed slightly and folded his arms, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I'm not certain you're grasping the scope of what's going on, Lektar. Somewhere along the line, I said something. To someone. About something. I don't even know what. And whatever it was I said got heard by someone, who then told it to someone else. And it grew, and it grew, and now I'm being labeled a traitor. Worse, the Ops staff is being painted as a brotherhood of mutineers who I've managed to hoodwink en masse into being more loyal to me than to the captain, Starfleet, or the Federation. Even Sam's accusing me of usurping his authority and planning all manner of illicit activity and evil deeds, and I and my 'followers' are not to be trusted. You're a smart woman; do the math."

"That's exactly why we need to change that perception," she said. "And hiding and waiting for meetings to be organized is not going to change it. True, our department has a bad reputation, and so do you. But I've--"

"Stop," Farrell said, holding up a finger. "Why?"

She blinked as he interrupted. "Why what? Why do you have a bad reputation? Your previous actions coupled with a healthy rumor machine on this ship, I imagine. Our department has a bad reputation I think mainly because for some reason you are perceived as what everyone in our department is like. It's assumed that everyone working in Ops is your lackey."

"Why?" Farrell was intent, clearly having his own opinion, but wanting to hear hers first.

She shook her head. "I don't know," she said, at a loss.

"You don't have to know. What do you think?"

"If I had an opinion of why, I would have said so, instead of 'I don't know'. I haven't asked people why they think that. Perhaps I should."

"Maybe it's because the officers and the enlisted in Ops actually mingle."

"Ops isn't the only department that does. I can't speak for every department, but the group from Security I have breakfast with includes officers as well as enlisted."

"Maybe it's because we work together," Farrell offered.

"Working together doesn't make people lackeys," she pointed out.

"Maybe it's because we're all friends."

"Apparently not everyone... since several ops crewmen tried to desert."

"So maybe, just maybe," Farrell said, "Ops really isn't all that different from any other department on board. So what does that leave? What's Ops got that the rest don't?"

"You're trying to say it's you specifically people hate, rather than the department... That may be true, for some people. But it wasn't you who was harassed in a turbolift, was it?"

"The harassment came because of association with me," Farrell said calmly. "Ops is reaping a whirlwind that I sowed. Anything I touch is poison until this rumor dies. Anything. The Ops crew is therefore under orders to stay away from me off duty until things die down, while I lay low and let things cool off. I like what you're saying. I do. And I'd help you if I could. But the moment I marshal the Ops staff, it's over. Somebody's spreading some serious hate around, and I don't know who. Until I find out where this started, any move from me will just be Farrell plotting again. Someone will get cornered by Security again, and the next time may not stop at a threat. Now I know, I know," he held up a hand. "You can talk to security. But how will that look? It'll look like you're pulling in favors for your department, is how it'll look. It won't be long before you do get lumped in with the rest of us, and not in a good way. Are you ready to go to the mat for a bunch of bartenders and commtechs you don't even know?"

"Then you hide, if you like. I'll do the mingling. No rumor is going to stop me from doing things that should be done, or from associating with whomever I please. And I don't need to pull in any favors to do my own cornering." She set down her PADD. "I'm ready to do what's right. For anyone on this ship."

She paused, studying him. "If you're trying to stay away from people, what were you doing at the party last night?"

"Damage control," Farrell said ruefully. "There's not a doubt in my mind that my every move got observed from the moment I walked in. So every move was choreographed. Like I said, I'm fighting this 'touch of corruption' reputation, so I mingled and danced with as many different people from as many different departments as possible. Everyone watched me, and everyone noted it. I danced with you, my security-connected 'cohort'. I danced with Druschev, from science. Our history hasn't been good, but that night worked out well, and everyone got to watch us get close again. Nat Gui's in security, and we danced and talked for a good little while. Chief Boothroyd from Engineering cornered me at the buffet table. I even made Commander Lyrr laugh."

She rolled her eyes. He was even more paranoid than she was. "So?"

"So, I contacted and connected with a whole load of people, which plants the seeds of the rumor's death," Farrell replied. "Now people will say 'Farrell's plotting,' to which others can respond, 'but I saw him and so-and-so at the party, and he sure didn't look like he was plotting to me.' Couple that with Ops going quiet for a couple of weeks, and the rumor withers on the vine. I'll say it again. You've got a great idea trying to get the department back together and all. But it's too soon. If you start now, everyone will think you'll be doing my bidding. It doesn't matter what's right. All that matters right now is what's going to work."

She shrugged. "As you wish. Then do let me know when you feel the time is correct. In the meantime, I will work on other projects."

Farrell looked at her for a time. "Just like that?"

She eyed him, confused. "What?"

"You're alright with that? No counterargument? No comeback?" Farrell asked, intrigued.

"I already voiced my opinion, reiterating it would serve no purpose," she said. "The alternative is what you propose. Yours is simply to wait. It can't make things any worse, and may perhaps improve the situation, and my recommendation can always be acted on later." She shrugged. "Were you expecting an argument?"

"Well," Farrell said, frowning in thought. "Yeah," he added, a little lamely.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"Because everybody argues with me," Farrell chortled. "I can barely get the crewmen to do what I say. You're the last person I expected to just say 'fine' and leave it at that."

She smiled faintly at that. "I only argue when I see a need for it. There is no such need here."

He considered that. "Thank you," he said at last, and meant it.

"You're welcome," she said. She paused for a moment, then said, "That's all I wished to talk to you about. So... I guess we're done."

He smiled as he rose from the table. "Something tells me we're just gettin' started," he winked. "Give it a couple of weeks. If the rumors have died off by then, I'll back your plan. Good night, mis lig."

She nodded. "Suk mikil, Mr. Farrell," she said.

---

"Brush The Dirt Off"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations

Location: USS Sulu, Lektar's Quarters
Stardate: 57908.28, 18h10

***

Calyca shouldered her pack and left her quarters dressed in workout garb. She nodded to the few crewmen she passed in the corridor before stepping into the turbolift. "Chief Boothroyd to Ensign Lektar," she touched her comm to put in a call to Shirik.

There was an unusually long pause before anyone answered. "Lektar here."

"Hey, where are you?" Caly softly popped her gum and smiled at the crewman who stepped onto the turbo lift as it stopped along the way to her destination, which was actually not quite decided yet.

"Why?" she asked, in her typically suspicious tone, which made Caly laugh and glance at the crewman who was trying hard not to look like he was listening.

"So I'll know where to come instead of wandering the corridors looking lost and forlorn," she answered and grinned when the crewman glanced her way.

Shirik wasn't in the mood for visitors, and Caly could hear it in her voice when she said, "In my room." That tone usually made Caly dig her heels in and this time wasn't any different.

"I'm on my way," she replied simply, straightening a bit.

Shirik knew it was pointless to resist because Caly could be like a pit bull when she wanted. Instead she went back to what she was doing and waited. It was about ten minutes before the door chimed and Caly stood before it.

"Come," she called. The room was pitch dark, no light whatsoever, and the thick acrid smell of klaas hung in the air. The only light at the moment was that spilling in from the hall, and it just showed Shirik's form seated on the sofa in the living area, before the low table, a mug in her hands. She was dressed in the casual flowing garb of her homeworld, in muted gray.

Caly blinked as the door closed and she didn't move while she let her eyes adjust to the lack of light and her senses to the klaas. She'd never told Shirik, but sometimes the fumes, when they were especially strong, tended to have a slightly stimulating effect on her. "You know one of the things I love about you, Shiri?" She finally ventured slowly into the room and took a seat beside her friend. "It's very easy to tell when you're depressed. No guessing games, no wondering what's up, no walking around on tender feet." She turned so she was facing the Drokari princess, one leg sliding up onto the sofa so she could tuck her ankle under the opposite knee. "What happened?" Because this clearly wasn't the same Shirik who was having such a good time at the party last night.

Shirik took a long draw from her mug and said simply, "I got sober." She reached to light a candle on the table in front of her in deference to her friend. "How did you enjoy the party last night?"

"Don't, Shiri... I don't need it," Caly reached out to gently touch Shirik's hand in an effort to stop her. "Getting sober makes you depressed?" she asked quietly. "I found it wonderful... And unsettling."

She stopped, and lowered her hand to her mug once more. She could see her friend plainly with her night vision, but she knew Caly couldn't possibly see her expressions and thought she would want to. She also knew from experience that there were times when Caly liked to talk in the dark and assumed this was one. "I'm not depressed," she said. "I'm just... contemplative." She quirked an eyebrow at her. "Unsettling? I thought you were having a good time?"

"I was. I did. In a very unsettling way." Shirik didn't need to see Caly's smile because it was there in her voice. "What are you contemplating in the dark with your klaas?"

"Things," she said. "Give me some good news, tell me about your date. You two looked very good together."

"What things?" Caly persisted. "The good news is that I had a really nice time. Nicer than I thought I'd have. There really isn't any bad news. And thanks to you I have a new friend."

"Then what was so unsettling?" she asked. She took another long draw from her mug. "I missed my klaas... I've been drinking less of it lately, in deference to those who don't like the way it makes my breath smell. I'm done caring about it."

Caly blinked. Uh-oh, that didn't sound good at all. "I'm not sure actually," she answered honestly and studied the dark where her friend was sitting. "What happened, Shiri?" she asked softly and reached a hand out to lightly run her fingers over her hair.

"You're about as informative as I am at times," she said, a small hint of a smile in her voice.

"I try," Caly smiled, and her fingers kept lightly playing with Shirik's hair as her friend continued to speak.

"Nothing happened. I've just been talking to some people, and thinking about things...and I made a fool of myself. Worse than that, I embarrassed Ben." The smile was gone, and she had more klaas.

"Ahhh.... I know Jurell's one. He was worried about you. Who else?" she asked quietly. "I don't think you made a fool out of yourself or embarrassed T'Kal. There's probably only a few people that even know you have feelings for him. It's not like you made them public. I thought your dance with Ensign Farrell was a lot more explicit," she added with a smile.

"Xayella Tagliesh, Mason Farrell... " She shrugged but Caly couldn't see it. "Sorg said it was plain on my face... If he saw it, and Xayella saw it...other people saw it," she said quietly, and reached to refill her mug from a pitcher on the table. "I'm beginning to reap the consequences."

"Jurell knew ahead of time," Caly pointed out. "I'm not sure about the other two." Her head followed Shirik's movements even though she couldn't see her. "What consequences?"

"I now have my own reputation. T'Kal's mistress." She snorted and took a swallow of klaas. "And now that I think about it, that's likely why Case left the group at the party when I joined you." She sighed. "All I wanted was one last dance...one last chance to be near him. I never intended any of this."

"T'Kal's mistress? It would be foolish for him to have a mistress on a ship this size while he's engaged to the XO," she snorted softly. "And really, I can't see you benefiting from that at all. I think if people just thought things through they'd realize how illogical and stupid some conclusions are." She knew how greatly Shirik had been affected by this and she wasn't sure what she could do to help. "I wouldn't worry about Case. It's like Riley said... He was just having a bad day." She sighed softly at Shirik's tone. "I know you didn't." She stroked her hair. "The culture here is a lot different than on Drokar. And it takes time to learn."

"It doesn't matter how foolish or untrue it is, on this ship rumors are like weapons." She took another swallow from her mug. "I don't fit in to this kind of culture. I can't, without changing who I am." She paused once more. "I've decided to leave the Sulu...once we return to the Alpha quadrant."

Caly was quiet for a long time as she processed that. When she spoke, Shirik could hear the control she had over her voice. "Shiri... Don't. Please don't make any decisions now. It's six months before we'll be back. Can't you wait and not make that decision yet? Give it some time and without any fuel to add to that rumor fire, it'll die and something else will take its place.. Please?"

"I can't do anything about it now, but I have decided. Maybe I'll change my mind in that time, who knows." She took another swallow. "Something else? I'm not sure I want to find out what else." She paused, looking down into her cup and watching the red whirling coils of heat coming off of it in her night vision. "I really enjoyed the party, too."

"I'll have to see what I can do to change your mind then. I don't want you to leave," she admitted. "Then remember that and let the rest take care of itself, okay?"

"Sorg doesn't want me to leave, either," she said. "I don't regret anything I did last night, Caly. I only regret how people interpreted it, and the negative effects it may have. I don't want my good memories of the party to be ruined."

"Then don't let them be," she replied simply. "Jurell's a very wise and determined man. I'm glad I have him on my side. Together maybe we can change your mind," she smiled.

"Together I think you can do a great many things," she said. "I'm glad you two hit it off so well, I thought you would."

"Hey. We both like you and that says a lot." The smile was evident in her voice. "Besides, he's nice."

"Yeah, he is," she said softly. "I'm glad he's my friend. And I'm glad I got to introduce you."

"I am too. It's nice to have another friend here and we could certainly do worse than Jurell," Caly chuckled. "You like him more than you thought, huh?" she asked, responding to the softness in Shirik's voice when she spoke of Jurell.

She shrugged in the darkness. "I'm very fond of him, yes. I'd be dead if it weren't for him." She took a long sip of klaas. "We had a horrible fight this morning, but we patched things back up. More culture clash..."

"But your fondness doesn't have anything to do with his saving your life," she observed quietly. "Remember the fights we used to have? I think they're what made us such good friends. You know what you need?"

"No, it doesn't," she admitted. "I was very fond of him before he saved my life." She looked up. "What do I need?"

"To watch some holoprojections, read some holonovels. To help you with the culture. We could do some stuff. I know Jurell would help too if you wanted," Caly told her. "You should talk to him, Shiri. While you're working. I think he could help with the culture too."

She nodded. "Mason Farrell gave me an old movie of his to watch. He says it's a comedy. I haven't watched it yet. Maybe some evening this week?" She took another sip. "Anyone who's not Drokari can, I imagine... Sometimes I'm not sure what to say to him."

"Oooh. I love old movies. It's a date," she grinned and tugged gently on her hair. "How about: Sorg, I need some help. Could you help me?" she suggested. "He's pretty down to earth, Shiri. It's one of the things I like about him. And you know he won't say no unless he honestly can't. But I can't think of why that would be. And you are there with him for eight hours."

"How often have you heard me say that to anyone?" she asked pointedly. Asking for help wasn't something she did. "Yeah, I know... I'll talk to him, I guess."

"Never," Caly admitted. "But how often have I heard you say you were, and I quote 'very fond of' a guy?" she asked pointedly. "This is a time for you to experience new things, Shiri... To step out of the Drokari box you've lived in for the whole of your life and experience first hand how others live and feel, and what motivates them."

"But I am Drokari. I wasn't meant to experience things the way other people do. There's a reason my people live as they do, and now more than ever I see why. I let myself become too contaminated by offworlder values, and look what it got me. Pain. What I need now is to step back, and collect myself once more."

"Shiri, I know you're a Drokari. But that doesn't mean you can't experience things the way other people do. That's what explorers do," she offered quietly. "You sound like a snob when you talk about being 'contaminated'. And I know you're not one. You might have been at one time, but not now. Pain is life, mis ni`gef. It's what gives us strength, makes us grow, defines joy, and I know... It feels awful. Don't run away, Shiri."

"They have a saying about getting back up on the horse once you've fallen off. But can't I have some time to brush off the dirt first?" She took another swallow of klaas. "Won't I be more likely to get back on that horse if I'm allowed to at my own pace, instead of being pushed back onto it?"

Caly had to smile at that. "I won't push. You know that. It just makes you dig your heels in. But I'm not about prodding and being obnoxious," she admitted with a wry grin. "But you can probably buy me off with ice cream," she teased. "Brush the dirt off first, Princess."

---

"A Little Less Conversation"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Holodeck 4
Stardate: 57908.28 23h59

***

There was nothing critical happening, so he asked Rett to cover for his last hour, and headed off for his first real night alone. No lounge. No mess hall. No Ainsley, which was unfortunate, but couldn't be helped. Just him. And the time alone would give him an opportunity to deal with some things he'd been letting slide anyway, and he'd been working on one of those things for about 30 minutes now.

The first yellow light next to the door came on. He stood in the prepcell, checking his ordnance one last time. Full charges, ready to fire, ready to go. The second yellow light lit, and he bounced onto the balls of his feet, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. The knots weren't so bad this time.

A deep sound began below him, and he fought back the rising panic, focusing it into pounding adrenaline. The sound, a syncopated snare and guitar rhythm, crescendoed and yielded to bass and drum as the green light beneath the yellows snapped on. The doors flew open, and Farrell went on the hunt amid the driving tune.

He crouch-walked down the corridor, leading with the disruptor held before him in both hands. It barely shook. Good. He heard the familiar lyrics, and took comfort in what he was here to do.

"A little less conversation, a little more action, please / all this aggravation ain't satisfactionin' me," sang Elvis Presley.

A figure leapt from around a corner, its weapon ready. Farrell fired, the beam striking the figure in the abdomen, throwing it to the floor. His aim was nearly back where it should be. Still a tad off, but that could come later.

"A little more bite and a little less bark / A little less fight and a little more spark"

A second figure rounded a corner. Farrell swung his weapon in an arc toward the new target, the beam catching the black-clad figure in the head.

"Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me / Satisfy me baby"

Another figure leapt from cover, laying a burst down the corridor. Farrell went against the wall into a doorarch as the pulses ripped into the decking, and let off three shots of his own. He missed, but the burst brushed the attacker back to cover.

"Baby close your eyes and listen to the music / Drifting through a summer breeze"

A beam sizzled past his head close enough to radiate heat. From behind him. Farrell hit the keypad to open the door and barreled inside. He shot the figure rising from the desk, the beam searing into the figure's chest, and continued his motion up and over the desk, taking cover as the two attackers from the hall made the doorway.

"It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it / Come along with me and put your mind at ease"

Bullets and beams hammered into the desk as Elvis swung into the second chorus. Farrell oriented himself and swept up the fallen figure's own weapon. He dove out from one side of the desk, both pistols blazing. He filled the doorway with energy beams, and caught one attacker squarely, the beams pummeling him across the hall and to the floor.

He missed the second figure.

"Come on Baby, I'm tired of talkin' "

The slap of the impact on his shoulder threw him backwards and rolled him against the wall. For a split second, it felt like his chest was being crushed.

"Grab your coat and let's start walkin' "

His heart seemed to stop, and his lungs would draw no breath. He flopped onto his face, dropping both weapons and fighting for air.

"Come on, come on"

Inwardly, he dissected the sensation, trying to view his situation clinically.

"Come on, come on"

He could feel his heart start to beat again.

"Come on, come on"

He took a single great gasping breath, and pushed himself upright. Blood pounded through his veins as he considered the pain. Endorphins were being released, he knew.

"Don't procrastinate, don't articulate / Girl it's getting late, don't you sit and wait around. . . A little less conversation / A little more action, please . . . "

His body would respond to the trauma, and the pain would lessen as the seconds passed. It was comforting knowledge, and he gave a feral grin as he considered it, leaning against the wall and listening to the song wind down.

It was almost enough. The shakes came after a minute, and he clenched his fists against it to no avail. He knew part of it was the endorphins running their course. But he also knew the panic. The white-hot blinding blaze of fear. It paralyzed him, his body convinced it was dying. He dropped to one knee again, and then completely to the floor.

He lay there in silence until the fear subsided. By the time it had passed, so had the pain. Mason staggered to his feet and thought. He'd staved it off this time. Last time the shakes had come on him after the first shot, and this time he'd managed to control the fear. At least for a little while. Progress. He smiled like a wolf, faced the black-clad hologunman, and addressed the corridor.

"Computer," he said, calmly. He'd work this out yet. "Again."

The prepcell reappeared around him, and the yellow light at the top of the stack came on.

---