"Touching"

Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Cristobel Sefton; Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, the Swamp
Stardate: 57910.17 00h40

***

"So, you never answered part of Luis' question yesterday," Ainsley said as she placed a trail of kisses along Mason's jaw. "What do you like to touch?"

Sanat was on duty and they were alone on the couch in Mason's living room. She was on his lap with her arms draped around his neck.

"Turn around," Mason murmured, helping her turn her back to him. He swept her hair aside, and kissed her at the nape of her neck, where it joined her shoulder.

Ainsley's head rolled over to the side and she shivered as the feel of his lips sent tingles up and down her spine.

"Right there," he whispered.

She moaned softly. "I like that too."

He was working her neck and shoulder thoroughly, relishing her sighs, when the doorchime rang. He lifted his mouth from the skin beneath her ear and gave a sigh of his own, but not a pleasured one.

"Computer, who is at the door?" he asked as the chime rang again.

"Ensign Cristobel Sefton."

"What in the world?" Mason mumbled. "I'm sorry," he said to Ainsley, shaking his head with irritation.

Ainsley took a deep breath, in an attempt to calm her rapidly beating heart, and shrugged slightly. "I'm sure you didn't call him here," she said with a smile.

She slid off his knee and onto the cushion of the couch again. "Why don't you let him in so that we can get rid of him quickly?" she suggested.

Once the doors parted, Cristobel Sefton bounded into the room wearing only black boots and an emerald robe that was open across the chest and loosely cinched at the waist. "Corran just taught me this new technique," Cris blurted out excitedly, pulling a phallic crystal from out of the messenger bag on his shoulder. "Mase, you are gonna love it."

Mason, caught between a baffled gape and incredulous laughter, looked at Cris, then at Ainsley, and back, and at Ainsley again. "This," he indicated Sefton while looking at Ainsley, "isn't what it looks like."

Ainsley's eyes were wide as she looked from Mason to Cris and then back to Mason again. "Oh?" she asked.

"What?!" Sefton asked, puzzled by Ainsley's puzzlement.

"Uhh," she indicated the way he was dressed with a wave of her hand and then pointed at that thing he was holding. "Uhh," she repeated. "Oh nevermind!" she finished with a sigh.

Reaching back into his bag, Cristobel pulled out two other objects of similar composition, except one was a perfect sphere and the other was a pyramid. "Meditation crystals," he clarified, almost impatiently.

"Oh!" Mason said, then laughed, more at himself than anything. He turned to Ainsley. "I'm sorry. Cris has been teaching me some betazoid mind exercises. I guess, uh," he said, tentative about Cris' presence at this moment, and in this condition, "I guess he's found something extra interesting. Yes?" he asked Cris. "No?"

"It's not something you can learn, exactly," Sefton explained in a conversational matter-of-fact tone, already moved past any irritation. "Y'see, Corr taught me this different method of projecting my thoughts, and he thinks this technique might make my thoughts more easily understood by Terran minds. Once you can start hearing my projected thoughts, it will be easier for you to recognise any other incoming thoughts that are projected on typical easier-to-send wavelengths."

Ainsley looked at Mason, still a little confused. "You want to start picking up projected thoughts?" She wasn't sure that was something that she would want to be able to do.

"In a way," Mason nodded. "I mean, I'm no telepath. I could never just listen in on people's minds. But for example, remember that away mission we all went on?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Cris and I were talking, and I asked if he could get a message to Bennett, who was across the complex. I wanted to try and apologize for the way we'd all met out on the landing pad."

"The way in which you were a bitch to her on the landing pad," Cris corrected.

"Yes, yes. I know," Mason rolled his eyes. "So Cris told me he could send a message, but Bennett didn't have the training to receive it. I thought getting trained to receive would be a pretty useful skill to have."

She nodded again. "Ok, I could understand that. So how's it progressing?"

"Pretty well," Mason smiled. "I can 'hear' Cris from across the arboretum. What we've been working on is focusing my own thoughts to make them stand out. It's as close to telepathic sending as a non-talent like me can get."

"Which is pretty amazing for what time we've spent working on this. ...And...which should be enough to last you 'till morning. I'll let you two get back to..." Cristobel sheepishly trailed off, as he stuffed the meditation crystals back into his messenger bag. When just the phallic one remained in his hand, he innocently offered, "But I could leave this one if either of you would like. I mean, that certainly wasn't what it was created for, but--"

"Cris," Mason interrupted with a wince and a shrug.

Sefton only replied with a heavy sigh, and let himself out of the Swamp.

Mason looked at Ainsley as the doors closed.

She looked up at him and grinned. "Well that was. . .interesting, to say the least."

"Telepathy is an interesting thing," Farrell nodded. "I imagine Cris'd be happy to teach you, if you asked. Or F'Zal, maybe."

"I don't know," she answered with a shrug. "I kinda like the way my mind works now, the idea of reading other peoples' minds and hearing their thoughts kinda creeps me out. Ya know?"

Mason grinned. "Fair enough. So, want to come back over here and let me not creep you out?"

"You don't have that crystal thing over there, do you?" Ainsley asked, jokingly.

"He took it with him," Mason joked back.

"Thank God!" She smiled at him. "Do you think he was serious when he offered. . ." She shook her head. "Nevermind, I don't even want to think about it."

Mason just looked at her and snickered.

She giggled and shook her head slightly. "Enough of that," she said quietly and slid back across the couch towards him.

---

"A Crew of Individuals, Part 1"

Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb - Commanding Officer, USS Nightingale
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Executive Officer / Science Officer, USS Nightingale
Lieutenant (jg) Taylor Bennett - Tactical Officer, USS Nightingale
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer, USS Nightingale
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer, USS Nightingale
Petty Officer 2nd Class Hanako Ito - Engineering Crewman [NPC], USS Nightingale

Location: USS Nightingale
Stardate: 57910.17, 00h43

***

The cockpit of the Nightingale was mostly dim, illuminated only by a misty green light. The crew was poised over their darkened consoles, looking through the forward portals expectantly with sweat forming beads on their foreheads. Outside of the ship, huge gray asteroids tumbled in the vastness of space and the Nightingale kept station close to one of the largest; a small dark speck on the face of jagged rock.

"How many of them are there, Lieutenant?" Zareb asked calmly, swiveling his chair towards the Science station.

"Sensors detect seven in close proximity, Commander," Tagliesh replied. "Stealth mode is active, but we had some bleed from the engines for a while there that may have left a trail...I don't think they've picked it up."

"Sir, the ships are presently in a Zeta configuration search pattern," Lt. Bennett said as she briefly looked up from the tactical display. "Their tactical systems are active."

"What's the status of our shields, Lieutenant?" Zareb asked, looking out the forward portals of the ship.

"We took a few hits, sir," Taylor said. "Currently, shields are holding at eighty-seven percent."

Zareb considered that quietly, rising to his feet. "Status of the Sulu, Mister Lektar?"

Shirik's expression was grim. "Unknown, sir. The Seeblin are jamming all communications, and the Sulu is no longer on sensors."

"Commander" --Tagliesh swiveled to face Zareb-- "if the Seeblin continue on their present course, they will detect us."

"Monitor their maneuvers, Lieutenant --" Zareb looked at Taylor "--and Mister Bennett. I want to know the moment their forward sensors are focused away from us."

Both officers gave their ascent as Zareb leaned onto the console near Sanat. "Mister Vijay, set a course away from the Seeblin ships...keep the engines in stealth mode. As soon as they're looking in the other direction, full impulse out of field."

The FCO dipped his head, "Aye, 'Commander."

Zareb nodded and went back to his console, hitting the comm button. "Petty Officer Ito?"

"Aye, sir?"

"We'll be going to warp speed the instant we clear the asteroid belt," Zareb informed her. "Be prepared."

"Aye, sir."

Taylor looked up from her station with a look of relief. "Commander, the Seeblin ships are turning away. It appears they have now abandoned their search."

Zareb raised an eyebrow at the assumption. "Mister Vijay," he said, sitting back down in his seat. "Full impulse."

"Aye, full impulse. Engines engaged, proceeding to exit the field."

Sanat swore under his breath when he looked up and realized that a huge, dull, gray, lifeless rock was hurtling towards them at an amazing speed. Something had pushed it towards them as he engaged the impulse engines. There wasn't much room in this area for them to plot a carefully planned-out avoidance path given the surrounding asteroids pressing in on both sides.

No, this was going to be a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-mother-in-law's-pants kind of maneuver...the sort that saves everyone's butts in the end. It wouldn't be pretty and it wouldn't be graceful, but it should save the ship...as well as its occupants. One could only try to save one's kop-u-rah in these unpredictable circumstances....

He called out to everyone seated behind him, "Hold on...this is going to be close!"

When Lektar shot him a questioning look from the Ops station, Vijay just arched an eyebrow and let his hands dance over the flight controls with an ease that rivaled a master pianist, his eyes focused on their current problem. The Nightingale banked steeply to port and then nose-dived at a perfect 90-degree angle away from its rocky antagonist.

They missed the first asteroid, but since when are things ever that easy?

The Nightingale began to bob and weave severely as Vijay methodically threaded his way out of their temporary hiding place at full impulse. On an extremely sharp starboard turn to dodge an upcoming asteroid, there was a slight bump as if something solid had impacted the hull. Nothing happened immediately to indicate anything was amiss, so the pilot kept pushing her hard...probably too hard.

Why? Because they had to get out of there and get of there fast...before the Seeblin detected the runabout and cut-off their planned escape route.

Everything appeared to be going as well as could be expected for this type of situation when a plethora of warning chimes and lights lit up the situ board at Zareb's station. He gripped the console tightly and said, "Structural integrity down to 15 percent."

Vijay instantly reacted to lessen their flight trajectory angle, thereby attempting to reduce the increasing gravimetric gee forces from continuously turning at high speeds as they built-up inertia.

Rocks of varying sizes whizzed by outside.

Inside, everyone could feel the runabout begin to quiver throughout; its hull creaked as all the opposing forces started to pull at every attach point, every seam, and every weld; they mercilessly tore at her as if to rend everything apart like a hungry carnivore devouring its helpless prey.

"10 percent," Zareb intoned in that frustratingly sedate tone.

"Oh fr..." Muttering a few more expletives that no one could hear, some of which might make even Chief Tawno blush, Vijay made another course adjustment. The shuttle banked starboard 10 degrees and began to pitch upward towards heading 37.253 to further dampen the escalating hull stress.

"Not good enough, Mister Vijay," Zareb said. "We're down to 5 percent."

More chimes, more lights came on; the automated computer voice started droning, Warning! Imminent hull breach in 30 seconds.

Zareb hit the comm even as his fingers danced across the console. "Petty Officer Ito, I'm taking the engines offline."

"Aye, sir."

"Allocate the additional power to the structural integrity field, Mister Lektar." Zareb's voice was somber and almost hard to hear in the excitement.

"Aye, sir," she called, fingers moving across the board, although she didn't think it would help at this point.

The computer added: "Warning! Imminent hull breach in 15 seconds."

Sanat calmly tried slowing the runabout by using maneuvering thrusters as brakes. He avoided two more asteroids in the process, but the shaking, and shimmying only got worse; several displays blew-out, an overhead compartment popped open, spilling small bits of equipment onto everyone unfortunate enough to be underneath it.

There were cracking, groaning sounds that continually grew louder by the nanosecond; for all intensive purposes, the 'Gale was dying...and all present knew they were in deep guano now. Zareb turned in his seat and looked at the half-Vulcan, evaluating his maneuvers coolly.

"Warning! Imminent hull breach in 5 seconds."

"All additional power diverted to the structural integrity field," Shirik announced.

It was not enough, a classic case of too little, too late. And then...the lights simply went out....

---

"A Crew of Individuals, Part 2"

Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb - Commanding Officer, USS Nightingale
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Executive Officer / Science Officer, USS Nightingale
Doctor M'lira - Medical Officer, USS Nightingale
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer, USS Nightingale
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer, USS Nightingale

Location: USS Nightingale
Stardate: 57910.17, 00h57

***

"Please stand up," came the solemn request from within complete darkness. "All of you."

The crew of the Nightingale rose from their respective seats, save for Bennett who was on her feet already. Only a couple of them could see anything in the dim.

"Computer," Zareb said. "Save and end simulation." The Nightingale facade fell away, revealing the metal framework and emitters of the Sulu's holodeck. The crew blinked at the change in lighting conditions save for Doctor M'lira, her alien eyes being accustomed both to light and lack thereof.

"Completely unacceptable," Zareb informed them, placing his hands behind his back. His First Officer, Tagliesh, split from the group and took to his side. "Does anyone care to dwell upon their individual missteps?"

Shirik had been able to see just fine in the dim, and her gaze had gone to Sanat, who got them all 'killed'. It was still there when the lights came up, waiting for him to speak.

"Something to say, Mister Lektar?" Zareb asked, noting the look and its direction. For his part, Sanat took no notice of the Drokari's accusing stare.

"No, sir," she said, turning her violet gaze to the CO and falling silent once more.

"Then you obviously weren't paying attention during the simulation," Xayella stated curtly to the ensign. "We died, Ensign Lektar; someone did something wrong, or else we would be 'alive' right now, isn't that so?"

"Indeed," she replied, but said nothing more. It wasn't she who had killed them all.

The FCO put both hands tightly behind his back. Vijay's mind churned with anger for losing the ship...his ship, the crew and his personal responsibility. He hadn't lost a flying command ever...not in nine years of flying. It was a sobering experience; the half-Vulcan let an impassive mask drop over his face.

"Mister Vijay," Zareb said, his slight accent cutting the consonants sharp. "Would you care to explain your performance?"

He swiveled about to face Lieutenant Commander Zareb. Vijay's voice contained no emotion as he replied to the question, "I pushed the runabout past her specified flight envelope, Sir. In hindsight, I should have slowed the Nightingale down and passed closer to each asteroid to minimize structural loading by the building inertial forces." Behind his back, the pilot's right hand clenched tightly as he talked.

"Yes," Zareb agreed, taking a step towards the half-Vulcan. "And I should have ordered the ship to half-impulse, given your proclivity for pushing past design specifications." Zareb allowed a slight smile and turned away.

"There were mistakes by each us," he continued. "The Seeblin may be a very real threat when we get to our testing phase." He paused and looked back at his crew. "The Nightingale is ready...we are not."

"Dry your tears, do your homework, and next time," Xayella told them with false enthusiasm, "maybe we won't die horrible deaths." She smirked at each of them, and then turned with Zareb to mutter, "We're doomed."

Sanat said nothing as he waited for additional instructions. By now, his right hand had turned itself into a tightly bound fist. He ignored Shirik's haughty violet glance in his direction.

Zareb studied each of them in turn, his eyes resting on the Caitian medical officer. "Doctor M'lira," Zareb said. "If this test were any indication, it seems we will indeed have need of your services."

"It would appear so," M'lira answered with a soft hissing laugh. "Let us hope it will not be long before I am rendered obsolete."

Zareb smiled and nodded politely. "Dismissed," he said to all of them even as he turned away again.

Tagliesh parted her lips to say something but seemed to think better of it. The holodeck door hissed and they begin to trail out one after the other, Lektar and Vijay bringing up the rear.

"Mister Vijay, Mister Lektar," Zareb spoke without turning around. They halted and the rest filed out. "A word, if you please."

He stopped abruptly and pivoted around to address Jarabi. "Yes, Sir." Vijay suspected that his performance had been dismissed too causally in the initial simulation review. Well at least the 'Commander was going to give himself and Shirik the courtesy of private scolding.

Shirik turned as well. "Sir?"

Zareb continued looking away from them, his hands folded behind his back formally. "I'm of the opinion that there is something to be gained from the both of you working together on flight drills in your off hours." Zareb turned around then. "I'll see to it that the simulation program is available to you."

Shirik was also standing with hands behind her straight back. "May I ask why, sir? Simply because I looked at him when he killed us?" She would certainly be sure not to look at anyone after this, she decided.

He said nothing as Lektar baited him. Sanat barely raised an eyebrow at her clumsy attempt to cast more blame in his direction. The half-Vulcan already knew that he'd pushed the runabout too hard and had admitted as much; what Shirik hoped to gain by illustrating the point again was beyond him.

Instead, the pilot waited to hear Jarabi's rationale for pairing them together.

"You have a background in both engineering and operations, Mister Lektar," Zareb said simply. "Given Mister Vijay's flying style, the experience of working closely with you might temper some of his more destructive maneuvers. More than any other people on the ship, you two will need to be in synch."

"Aye, sir," she said, her attitude melting away. She still felt it was meant as a punishment, but Zareb had answered tactfully, and earned her respect.

Sanat noted Lektar's abrupt turnabout and offered to her, "Perhaps you would have time for another simulation run at 18h00 tomorrow?" His hand was still in a fist, however, his anger was subsiding...albeit, slowly, but nevertheless, the commander's diplomatic approach was helping the half-Vulcan rein in his emotional response for failing the crew.

If they could really be called such a thing at this juncture of time. Right now, they appeared to be acting as individuals rather than a tight-knit team of Starfleet professionals.

She nodded. "Very well. I'll meet you at the holodeck," she said.

"Agreed, 18h00 it is. I'll reserve Holodeck 3." Vijay turned to Zareb, "Sir, if this morning's saved simulation can be made available before then, I would like to review my errors for our next run."

"Computer," Zareb intoned clearly, evoking an answering chirp. "Grant access to Nightingale simulation program and saved files of same to Ensign Sanat Vijay and Ensign Shirik Lektar. Authorization Zareb Zeta Three."

"Affirmative. Access is authorized."

Zareb studied them as Sanat nodded formally and Shirik simply waited to be dismissed. "I would strongly consider running additional simulations as soon as you can." He turned from them again and walked towards the holodeck doors. "You can both use the work."

Sanat nodded as Jabari walked out. He turned and said to Shirik, "I must relieve Sepek on the Bridge now. I'll see you at 18h00...provided something doesn't come up in the mean time." The pilot finished his statement with a tiny smirk; that said he turned to leave the holodeck.

Shirik nodded. "This is my normal sleep shift, actually, and I'd like to get some before I have to report for duty. I will meet you at 18h00." She exited with him, and went on her way.

---

"Ulterior Motives"
By: Ensign Marp, Flight Control
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: USS Sulu, Mess Hall
Stardate: 57910.17, 01h30

***

Caly was restless after her outing with Sorg to the Jazz club. Restless and unsettled, a phenomenon that was starting to become a habit where he was concerned. At the moment she was trying to distract herself by tweaking one of her spiders, but was being distracted from her distraction by the continued nagging buzz in her head of dragonflies, the itching of her fingers, and that damned unsettled feeling. Something she had Jurell to thank for. One thing she knew was that she wasn't going to be able to ignore the dragonflies until she took steps to figure them out.

Food... She was hungry again which wasn't surprising. She always got hungry when her mind was in the throes of trying to puzzle something out. And right now it was trying to puzzle out flight and dragon flies, feeling unsettled, and demanding food.

She grabbed her pack, tugged her cap onto her head, slipped her feet into shoes and left for the Mess Hall dressed in soft cotton drawstring pants and tank top. It was the middle of Gamma shift, the lights were lowered, and there weren't a lot of people moving around, nor were there a lot of people in the Mess Hall. Caly looked around for a place to sit after getting her food and spotted Ensign Marp... Flight Control... Oohh... Perfect.

"Excuse me, sir," she smiled at him after making her way to his table and reached up to hastily tug the cap from her head. "May I join you?"

Marp looked up startled by the unexpected guest. "Yes, have a seat." Marp looked at her. "I am Marp." He flashed her a smile.

"Aye, sir. Calyca Boothroyd." She set her tray on the table and extended her hand to him, impish green eyes echoing the smile on her lips. "It's a pleasure, sir."

Marp had not expected anyone to join him and he was uncertain how to respond. "Have you been on the Sulu long?"

"Since just before the Wormhole, sir," she told him with a pleasant grin as she set her plate on the table and her tray aside on another. "I have an ulterior motive for asking to sit with you," she admitted as she settled into the chair and started on her meal.

Marp put his fork down and set his tray aside. "Ulterior motive." He paused. "What is this motive?"

"To learn, sir," Caly told him, pausing in her own eating to do so. "I need to learn about flight. Avionics... Aerodynamics... Theory. What makes a Dragonfly stay up in the air? How's it maneuver?"

"What is a Dragonfly?" Marp asked curiously.

"It's a bug, sir. With wings," she told him and tugged a PADD from her pack and pulled up a picture of one to show him, handing him the PADD so he could see. "A very graceful bug," she added with a smile.

Marp looked at the Dragonfly. "Interesting, we have something like this on Ferenginar." He handed her the PADD. "It is a very tasty delicacy."

Caly blinked and wrinkled her nose, faint, rarely seen freckles peeking out when she did. "I'd rather not eat them."

"You want flying lessons?"

"Aye, sir," she nodded and smiled at him. "Exactly so."

Marp supposed that he should tell her he was currently not allowed to fly anything outside the holodeck simulator but he could not. "Perhaps we could run through a holodeck simulation."

"Oh, perfect, sir," she grinned at him, green eyes sparkling with delight.

"When would you like to have your first lesson?"

"As soon as possible?" she asked. "I'm on Alpha shift. And really, sir, whenever it's convenient for you." Her excitement was quite evident and already the wheels were clicking along in her head, the very beginnings of a design starting to take shape.

"How about tomorrow after I get off shift at zero-thirty hours?"

Caly nodded enthusiastically. "That's perfect, sir."

Marp smiled. "Excellent, I will see you then, Chief."

"Aye, sir. And you can call me Caly or Booter if you like." She grinned and got up, gathering her plates to deposit in the reclamator on her way out. "Until tomorrow night then. And thank you, sir," she nodded and left the Mess Hall with a light bounce to her step. She was going to make Dragonflies and get the pesky little things out of her head. The unsettled feeling was another matter entirely.

---

"A Date by Any Other Name"
By: Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering

Location: USS Sulu, Deck 15, MSV Bay
Stardate: 57910.17, 02h15

***

Caly left Ensign Marp and the Mess Hall with a light bounce to her step. She was going to get flying lessons! Coupled with some Avionics and Aerodynamic courses through the Daystrom Institute, and she should have a working dragonfly prototype in no time.

She stepped into the turbo lift and instead of calling out her own deck number, she found herself calling out, "Deck fifteen," which had her chewing on her bottom lip a little and wondering why she wasn't going back to her room. She had spiders waiting for her. But she found that she wanted to see the stars and it was that unsettled feeling that had her feet leading her in the direction of the MSV Bay where Sorg had taken her the night of the Awards Party. Maybe a little stargazing would settle that unsettled feeling enough that she could sleep.

Deck 15 was quiet as usual, only the hum of the ship's systems. The corridor wound through the lower landing strut mechanisms and bulky aft sensor and avionics systems. The airlock door hissed apart diagonally when she slapped her hand against the sensor and she stepped into the bay, stopping as the door swished closed behind her, eyes blinking. He was here.... Or was she imagining him? She was dressed in soft cotton drawstring pants, a tank top, slipper shoes, her ball cap and her pack was slung over one shoulder.

Sorg Jurell was sitting against the bulkhead, feet crossed at the ankles, looking out at the stars through the open MSV port. The sparkling blue forcefield showed the expanse of the blue and green nebula with the proto-star within its fringes. It was magnificent, and the security officer was still dressed in the clothes that he'd left the holodeck in, sans the jacket that lay in a bundle with the black tie. His shirt was undone and he was sitting on the quilt that he stowed down here.

As the door opened he looked up in surprise, not expecting to be disturbed this late at night. He'd come down to deck 15 after leaving Caly at her quarters. He had a lot to think about and he knew sleep wouldn't take him for a while yet. His feelings for the female engineer were troubling him greatly and he didn't know what he should do about them. So he was here to think.

He looked across the small bay into Caly's face and his eyes widened to see her here.

She looked...startled. And he looked...very real. One hand had found its way to the necklace at her throat and she just stood there, staring at him for several heartbeats as it registered that he really was there. "I didn't think anyone would be here..." she finally said, drawing in a soft breath and letting it out in an equally soft huff before her feet started to hesitantly move in his direction.

"What are you doing up? Didn't I take you home?" he asked with a slight grin. He was totally disconcerted to see her here...now. Now of all times. "What brings you down here?" He leaned back to look up at her as she came closer and he patted the quilt beside him. "Pull up a seat."

"You did... I got distracted from my distraction," she admitted as she slipped off her shoes and dropped her pack before settling down beside him. "So I went to eat." She tugged off her cap and ran her fingers through her hair. "And I'm going to get flying lessons. Why are you here?" She turned to look at him then.

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. He stared out the port and smiled. "I was thinking about you."

"Uh-oh... Good thinking, or bad thinking?" she asked softly and her eyes strayed to the view of the nebula briefly before turning back to study his profile. She thought he looked rather devastatingly handsome now, more so than he did fully decked out in the tux. How odd... "I didn't even try to sleep... I was-- unsettled..." she admitted.

"Not bad," he smiled, his fingers laced together in his lap. "Why unsettled?" His blue eyes were diamond blue, sparkling in the light from the proto-star and the nebula. He leaned his head back against the bulkhead and gazed into her eyes.

"Ahh... Well..." She sighed softly and smiled a little wryly before answering him. "That would be because of you," she admitted frankly. She watched his face, his eyes... They were so very blue. Hers were a stormy sea green at the moment, reflecting her inner turmoil. She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees, exposing a narrow strip of skin at the small of her back as she leaned forward and settled her chin on folded arms. She continued to watch him for several more heartbeats before looking out onto the panoramic nebula view. "You and Dragonflies," she mused quietly; her voice was little more than a whisper.

"You didn't answer my question. Why unsettled?" He wasn't looking at her, just the proto-star soon to be born, and the sound of his voice had a gentle musing quality.

Caly blinked and looked back over towards him for a moment before turning her eyes back to stare out at the breathtaking view. "I did... Sort of. I'm unsettled because of you," she said again. "You're a very unsettling man, Sorg Jurell," she offered quietly. "Worse than dragonflies."

He grinned, still staring out at the star. "Okay, so what about me is unsettling? After all we've already established that it's me and that you are unsettled. So...why?" His voice was almost a whisper. She was dancing around the question again, either because she didn't want to tell him, or more than likely she didn't really know herself. He guessed that it was the latter with Caly. She was exploring new territory and the Dragonflies were just diversions thrown up by her subconscious to deflect her from facing emotions. After all, if she was too busy thinking about flight dynamics and avionic principles she wouldn't have to face relationship issues. That was how she'd avoided it in the past. He unsettled her because he was forcing her to face those issues simply because he was here, and the reality of the fact was that he hadn't been deflected from her by her pre-occupations.

Caly let out a soft huff of breath as she propped her chin in her hand and her elbow on her upraised knees. It only lasted for a moment or two because then she was gesturing with the hand as she spoke, her fingers moving lightly and randomly. "Well, see... That's just it. I don't have a clue. Not a clue. Dragonflies are easier. They just want to be built," she said in mild exasperation. "But I can't take you apart to see what makes you work and then put you back together again," she added with another softly huffed exhale of breath as she propped her elbow back on her knees and her chin in her hand. "It's very unsettling," she grumbled. "And distracting. And it makes me hungry," she continued to grumble softly.

He laughed softly, watching her fingers moving in the air, drawing unseen schematics. "I'm easy to understand," he replied, making her huff softly in denial and prop both her elbows on her knees and her chin in small fisted hands as she watched him. "I'm a simple man really. You've never had to deal with a soft problem... all of your devices, and widgets are hard edged problems with resolvable solutions. There's a single answer to them. They either work or not. With me...well I represent an entirely different problem structure. There's no real right or wrong answers, just best guesses...and your mind is rebelling at having to deal with that. There's just too many overly flexible variables." He looked over at her, into those dark emerald eyes, his faint smile turning the corners of his mouth. "The real question is are you willing to explore those variables?"

"I can do best guesses." She began gesturing with a hand again, fingers moving lightly in the air. "I can," she added stubbornly. "I'm even good at it," she nodded and then sighed in exasperation, her chin going back to being propped up with small fists. "I think your variables are all twisted and convoluted," she pointed out, back to grumbling again. "And I can't get a handle on them. They keep eluding me," she told him, huffing out another breath and running slightly frustrated fingers through her hair. She met his gaze then and let out a soft sigh. "I don't know. I don't even know what that means. Or how to go about it. I don't have a diagram, or a list of components, and my damned hyperspanner doesn't fit!" She glared at him a bit defensively but her eyes lacked any real heat behind them. "You are a paradox. That's what you are. You're like a puzzle where all the pieces are exactly the same. I don't even know where to start," she said with another soft sigh.

"A paradox is unsolvable," he said softly. His tone was carefully measured, as if he was talking to a particularly skittish horse that might bolt at any moment. "I think about you all the time," he admitted. "Last thing at night and first thought of the day. I wish I could see you more often, but with this training...." He shrugged. "I've never met a woman I could talk to for hours like I can with you. You make me laugh all the time, and I feel...comfortable with you." He looked into her eyes again. "There's nothing about you I don't like, Caly. You're beautiful, intelligent, funny, and so genuine."

Caly wrinkled her nose at him, exposing faint, rarely seen freckles. "And too frank, horribly absent minded," she started adding to his list. "Smudged more often than not. I don't think like normal people do, my logic is convoluted but makes perfect sense to me. I'm cluttered and leave stuff all over but I know where everything is. And I'm in love with the ship," she tacked on for good measure and then frowned, another soft huff of breath escaping her. "I know you're unsolvable," she sighed. "I don't know how to deal with unsolvable," she admitted and then drew in a soft, rather resigned breath before adding, "I think about you all the time too. It's what makes you so-- unsettling. Well, not all the time," she corrected, "But a big chunk of it..." She rubbed two of her knuckles over her lips in an unconscious display of thoughtful frustration. "I do like talking to you. A lot. I like hearing you laugh," she admitted. "And I am comfortable. Most of the time... Until you get all paradoxy on me and I start to feel lost..."

"So which part is paradoxical?" he asked with a grin. Her own admission that she thought about him too made him feel strangely light-headed. They were sitting side by side and their shoulders were touching, barely, but it was enough for him to be aware of it.

"Your eyes," she answered automatically and with a sigh as she raised her hand to scratch the back of her neck and rub down the hairs that started tingling for no reason she could fathom. "And when you... yanno, look at me... It makes me feel all funny inside and then my neatly filed thoughts get all jumbled up where they don't belong and I have to sort them all out again," she explained. "And then you'll say something that leaves me practically stammering like a damned fool who can't string two coherent words together." She was quite aware of the proximity and warmth of his body. If climbing had taught her anything, it was to be very aware of where she was spatially, and what was around her. And right now she was very aware of his presence in her space.

He laughed softly, "Ohhh Prophets." He shook his head. "You just described a little of how I feel!" He chuckled, resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. "When you look at me sometimes...I can't breathe. I feel like I've just run a hundred meter dash...but when I start to feel down you can say a few words that make me laugh, or makes me feel light-headed, like now...and I can feel you sitting next to me, like a magnet." He couldn't believe that he was talking like this - so openly honest about his feelings and about what she did to him. He was totally unafraid of rejection, for the first time in his life he knew that she wasn't going to hurt him for anything he said. "And all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you."

"Hey now..." She turned and faced him, one foot tucking under the other leg as she pointed a finger at him. "No kissing," she told him. Her knee was pressing softly against his side and the earnest, determined, faintly fearful look in her eyes was almost comical. "See?" she wagged that finger a bit. "It's that not breathing thing that's bad. Deprives the brain of oxygen. That's what makes us feel light headed. And off balance," she pointed out. It never occurred to Caly to not tell him what she felt, or to be anything other that totally frank and open about things. Rejection is another thing that never really occurred to her... Unless it was that maybe he would, and sort of put her out of her misery. Which had a certain allure to it.

He opened a single eye and looked at her wagging a finger at him and he chuckled at her expression. "So you don't like kissing me?"

"Hah! Too well, I'll wager," she snorted softly and glared at his opened eye. "See, that that's another thing that just has me way too unsettled. And one of those paradoxical things."

"Okay, so you like the kissing." He smiled and closed his eye again, still resting against the bulkhead, making no move to touch her. "You're just not used to it yet," he surmised. "Like I'm not used to talking like this...but with a little more practice, I'm sure we can manage." He smiled to himself.

Caly blinked. "Practice? Hang on just a minute here... You mean like... kissing practice?" She had that whole eating worms tone of voice at the moment.

"It's like any skill you have to master," he said calmly. "You see your whole idea of kissing is wrapped up in thoughts to the nature of you just don't do that...and that's bad." He looked at her with a smile. "In fact it's positively unhealthy. Your social skills are stunted by your lack of proficiency in the relationship fields. It's an empirical problem with an easy solution. One practices until one perfects it. Actually I think once you apply yourself to the task you will discover that you have a natural ability in that area." He said it all with a straight face. Even his voice was matter-of-fact. He was laughing on the inside.

Caly blinked several times and her jaw dropped enough that her mouth was gaping slightly. She looked like she was going to speak, but no words came immediately out. She actually sputtered a bit before she found her voice and gathered her thoughts enough to say anything that resembled a person with half a wit. "Whoa! Just hang on... You expect me to discover some long lost natural ability in a...a...thing" --she sort of spat the word a bit and punctuated it with the eating worms tone-- ".. that renders me a blabbering idiot? Why in the hell would I do something like that?? And what do you mean it's unhealthy, huh? I think keeping your wits about you is damned healthy!" She was very animated, softly flushed, and gesturing with her hands. All her fingers were in on the 'absently moving in the air' bit and her natural red-headed fiery temper was rearing its ugly head. Although Jurell could tell that she wasn't really angry. Just frustrated and backed into a corner and being very stubborn and indignant. "And another thing! I am not either stunted! I'm just...just... Making intelligent choices!" she nodded sagely. "Lack of proficiency my ass," she muttered and crossed her arms under her breasts with a soft huff as she leaned back against the bulkhead.

He kept the expression on his face completely neutral as she spoke and gestured at him, only the sparkle of mirth in his eyes betrayed how he truly felt, but she was so wrapped up in what she was saying she didn't notice.

"And now I need ice cream," she muttered in an 'oh great, now see what you did', tone.

His grin cracked open with her desperate need for ice cream and he laughed. At least it started with a chuckle and developed into a belly laugh until his sides hurt and he was gasping for breath and tears welled in his eyes. He collapsed on his side holding his ribs still laughing as she stared flabbergasted at him.

"You're laughing!" she accused, pointing out the obvious and gesturing at him. "Here I am all righteously indignant and...and defending myself, and you're laughing?" She huffed and glared at him. "And you want me to master kissing? Hah!!! When pigs fly!" She scowled at him. "Just for that I should find someone else to practice with!" The threat was indignantly made and one he knew she would never carry out. "You... You Bajoran scoundrel!"

She poked him lightly in his laughing side with her bare toes. "Ice cream. Lots of toppings."

He rolled over and grabbed her foot. The bare toes were just irresistible and he yanked her off-balance and started to tickle her feet, holding her around the calves and pinning her legs. "Someone else huh?" he managed to ask, still laughing, tears streamed down his cheeks as he fought her bucking feet and tickled her instep. "I'll show you...someone else...! Ha!"

"HELP!!!" she squealed out as she found herself on her backside, legs helplessly held down by a mad man! "NO!!! NO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA! STOPPPPPPAHAHA!!!" she managed to squeal out through uncontrolled laughter. "QUIT!! JURELLLL!!!" She sat up and reached for him, grabbing and smacking at his arms and shoulders. Even reaching out to try and grab his ears.

He let her go and curled up as she hit him, still laughing fit to burst, finally grabbing her wrists and rolling around so that she couldn't get him, and ending up sprawled across the quilt with her half on top of him. He let her go as he stopped laughing. Fighting for breath and holding her waist, he gazed up into her eyes.

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrel!" She punched his shoulder, trying to catch her own breath as her laughter stopped and she stared down at him. "No feet tickling!" She half glared at him, but it lost any severity because of the residual laughter flirting around in the depths of her eyes.

He raised up on one elbow and kissed her soundly, impulsively pulling her into an embrace and stopping her protests, gripping her slim waist and sliding a hand up her spine to hold her. It wasn't rough, but neither was it gentle, and he rolled so that she was on the quilt and he up on one elbow above her.

And once again he took her by surprise with the kiss, causing her to suck in a startled, gasping breath and let it out with a soft note of confusion that vibrated against his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed and a surprised, muffled "mmfph" was muttered into his mouth as she found herself on her back and in the process of getting one of those spine-tingling, toe-curling kisses. Her hands curled into the front of his shirt and her lips softened beneath his as she tentatively and rather hesitantly kissed him back.

Her response made him soften the kiss, but still it lasted, breaking only momentarily to take a breath and softly nuzzling her lower lip, drawing it with his and kissing her in such a way as to be oblivious to everything but her, and how she responded. His hands stayed still, and their bodies were close, touching from lips to toes as he kissed her tenderly and thoroughly.

She wanted to protest, wanted to say, But what about the 'no kissing' thing? The nuzzling surprised her as much as the kiss itself and she let out another soft, startled gasp when he did it. Her hands didn't release his shirt and instead her fingers tightened around the fabric. For several long heady moments she gave herself up to the kiss, allowing herself to feel without fighting against it. She finally pulled her lips from his when she started to feel overwhelmed by the emotions it evoked in her, but they didn't move far. Their fullness brushed against his as she panted softly for breath and muttered a defensive and slightly accusing, "You kissed me..."

"You kissed me too," he breathed, brushing her lips with his, breathing shallowly and slightly panting as he gazed into her eyes. He kissed her lower lip. He was trembling slightly, his eyes like blue diamond chips surrounding twin black holes gazed into hers. He kissed her again, slowly, and lovingly.

"I--" She wanted to say something intelligent and witty, but anything she'd been about to say, or even admit to, was stolen away with the brush of his lips against hers. The kiss to her lower lip had her gasping softly again in surprise and her own body's trembling echoed his. She did manage a softly murmured, "...scoundrel" as he kissed her again and the tingling down her spine had her fingers gripping his shirt tightly. She kissed him back a little less hesitantly this time.

He completely lost himself in the kiss as she melted against him and kissed him in return. Somewhere in the kiss they both lost all sense of time, and there was only sensation, her lips and his; mingled breath and the press of her soft curves against the more angular planes of his. There was no coherent thought, no reasoning, only a growing warmth and connection between them.

The need for air forced their lips apart and they both panted softly to catch their breaths. Caly was almost afraid to move, sure if she did it would break the spell that had woven around them with the tender kiss, and at the same time wanting to do just exactly that. It took her several moments before she could open rather bemused eyes to gaze up into the twin blue diamonds that watched her intently. Her breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes and the only thing she could manage to say was a barely whispered, "You turned my brain to mush..."

He chuckled softly, and kissed her jawline, and her chin. "You were right and I was wrong," he whispered with an impish smile, his voice husky and seductive. "You are very proficient," he whispered as he kissed her trembling lower lip.

She blinked and wrinkled her nose at the apology and his words. "That sounds... Very wrong for some reason that I can't quite put my finger on," she told him with a quirky smile and a softly indrawn breath at his attention to her lower lip. "You're kissing me again..." she pointed out a little breathlessly.

"Oh I know," he breathed and did it again. He bit softly against the flesh of her lower lip and traced her spine with his hand, smoothing over the material of her shirt.

She gasped and blinked up at him, green eyes softly bemused. "T-That's cheating... That has to be cheating," she pronounced, and her back gently arched at his touch to her spine.

He kissed her throat as she arched her back, softly tracing the curve of her neck to her ear in brushes of his lips, drawing at her skin, nipping gently with his teeth, enclosing the lobe of her ear.

She trembled and looked around in confusion, involuntary gasps greeting the touch of his mouth against her neck. "I-- OH! Wh-- Wait... Whoa!" She blinked and green eyes gazed up at him as he drew away, a slight frown on his face. He could feel the gentle pressure of her hands against his chest and hear her confused huff of breath as he backed off.

His expression turned to concern and then he swallowed hard. His blue eyes were a deep azure as he gazed down at her, "I didn't mean...sorry." He was sorry. He'd pushed too hard, but he hadn't even thought about going any further. "Sorry," he whispered, "I won't do that, okay?"

Caly drew in a breath and nodded as she let it out. "Yeah... I--" She was confused and didn't know exactly what to say. She'd started to panic. As much because of the way it was making her feel as it was because she wasn't sure just what he was doing. And she'd liked it, which confused her even more... "It's okay. Really," she assured him with a small smile. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just... I'm sorry," she sighed softly. "I, uh... Over reacted. Or something," she admitted.

He smiled. "No you didn't," he whispered, "I went too far. You shouldn't be sorry for saying no."

"I'm not even sure what I was saying no to," she confided, keeping to the whispered tones and returning his smile with soft one of her own. "I... I just suddenly felt way out of my depth."

"I was kissing your neck, and I was going to kiss your earlobe...that's all." He grinned. "It's relatively safe. I wasn't going to go any further." He chuckled.

"Yeahbut... That was making me feel all weird inside," she told him. "And it sure as heck didn't feel safe."

"So...how did it feel?" he asked softly. "Like your insides were melting? Like you felt hot and cold at the same time?" he whispered.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Melting and all jittery at the same time," she admitted, whispering as he was.

"That's how it should feel," he chuckled. "Did you like it?"

"Well..." She kind of glanced around a bit, as if checking to make sure no one was listening before confiding some huge secret to him. "Yeah... In an 'Oh, holy shit, what's that?', scary kinda way. I think diffusing a bomb's a whole lot safer," she told him.

"It's not, believe me." He chuckled again. She was so funny and endearing. This was obviously a voyage of discovery for her and he couldn't believe that she was as old as she was and hadn't had any exposure to sex at all. "Want to try it again?" he asked. "It's really not scary. "

"Uuuhhh...." She blinked and frowned and chewed on her bottom lip a bit in contemplation. In reality, she didn't like feeling like she was letting go and losing control, and that was what was at the heart of her fear. The regular kisses were bad enough, but when he'd started kissing and biting on her neck...and then her ear, that was exactly what she'd felt like inside. Like she was losing control. So her answer was more in the form of a very safe question. And a huge dodge of the whole issue, and rather hesitantly asked to boot. "Couldn't we, uh...have ice cream instead?"

"We don't have ice cream down here..." he grinned, "but I understand. You know if you carry on like that you'll get fat." He bent and kissed her lightly and then sat up, pulling her with him. "I think we should go." He looked at his chrono. "It's nearly 0400hrs."

"It is?" She reached for his arm and looked too, blinking when she saw the time. "Good gods... I totally lost my sense of time. I didn't realize I'd been down here that long. You did that," she accused teasingly and grinned at him. "And I'm not going to get fat. Shirik is exercising me to death. I've lost weight, I think."

He looked her up and down and grinned. "No...you're about perfect." He climbed to his feet and helped her up. "Come on." He picked up the quilt and his jacket and tie. "I'll walk you home...again."

"Hey, you don't need to if you'd rather go catch some sleep." She grinned as she brushed herself off and gathered her things, slipping her feet into her shoes and settling the cap on her head.

He slapped the brim of her hat so that it covered her eyes. "A gentleman walks a lady to her door. No arguments."

"Hey!!" She pulled the brim back up and gave him a mock glare. "Alright, no arguments. But next time I get to walk you to your door," she grinned cheekily at him and waited while he stowed away the quilt and secured the area.

"Since when are you the gentleman?" He rolled his eyes. He slapped the door actuator and the split door slid open. "After you, sir." He waved her through. "You know I do keep forgetting that you outrank me."

Calyca gave him that impish grin of hers as she moved through the door. "That's because you and I don't bring rank into something personal," she pointed out logically. "And I can be a gentleman if I need to be." She straightened her clothes and smoothed out any wrinkles.

He slapped her butt. "Not with me you can't, Calyca Llewellyn Boothroyd."

"HEY!" One hand went to her cover her butt where he'd slapped her, and the other punched his shoulder as she spun around indignantly to face him. "Watch it, bud." She rubbed the offended spot on her derriere and half glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. "Jesus you have a big hand."

He grinned, as he ducked and threw her over his shoulder, lifting her easily as he strode on down the corridor, with her dangling over his shoulder. He slapped her behind playfully., "Goes with the big butt," he laughed, not meaning it at all.

"HEY!!" she hollered again as she was unceremoniously thrown over his shoulder. "Dammit Jur-- OWWW! BRUTE!" She pounded on his back and then "hmmphed" disgustedly. "You want a big butt, you better go find yourself another girl. I'll give you Master Chief Tawno's number." She snickered and propped her chin in her hand and her elbow against his back. "This is so undignified... I'm plotting revenge, just so you know..." she told him.

"That's okay, I can handle it," he laughed and carried her all the way to the turbo-lift.

"Hah! You hope..." she muttered and poked his back a little in a testing manner. "Hmmm... How much do you weigh?" she asked curiously and then got totally distracted when they reached the lift.

As he stabbed the button to call the lift he decided to put her down and did so by squatting down and letting her go. He rose before her with a wide grin. "Just so you know." He leaned in and kissed her. "I'm not interested in another girl."

Caly half glared at him with one brow quirked in an 'I don't believe you just did that', kind of way. Then he took her by surprise when he kissed her again and she huffed softly, eyeing him, his words leaving her momentarily speechless. "Oh.... You're not, huh?" she finally said.

"No." He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. "I think...unless you have a major objection. I think you're absolutely stuck with me...or I'm stuck with you...or maybe we're both stuck with each other...or maybe stuck isn't exactly right...maybe...well...no. If you don't object too much.... "

Caly was back to smoothing her clothes down again and her hands stilled when he lifted her chin. She listened to him, green eyes widening at his words and she finally quirked a brow at his rather fragmented speech. She opened her mouth to say something... Then frowned and closed it again as she continued to look at him, her mind working over the rather puzzling 'proposition?' he just handed her. "I... You're doing that paradoxy thing again," she told him, still frowning just a little in puzzled thought. "I don't think I object at all," she finally answered and then followed it up with a question... "But...uhh... Define stuck..."

He dropped his hand and chuckled, looking at his own big feet. "Well...I'd like to call you my girlfriend." He looked up at her, the question in his eyes.

Now that made her blink-- Several times. And stare at him for a full heartbeat... Or two. Maybe three. "Okay... Wait... You mean... Like-- like a relationship and dating??"

"Yes," he smiled, "that's exactly what I mean."

Caly let out a huff a breath and crossed her arms under her breasts, giving him a rather helpless look. "Dammit, Jurell... You don't want much, do you?" she asked and suddenly found her own feet very much in need of being studied.

"No...not really," he smiled and looked down at her feet. "You have very pretty feet," he teased. He looked back up in to her eyes. "I just want you," he added softly.

"You're nuts." She blinked and watched him with large green eyes that mirrored her confusion and instinctive, automatic reluctance. "I... I need to think, dammit..." she grumbled.

He nodded. "Okay...think about it." The turbo-lift door swished open and he stepped past her inside and leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. He watched her as she entered the lift.

She looked nervous...and worried...and confused as she followed him in. She slipped her hands behind her back and leaned against the wall, casting alternating glances between him and her feet. She fidgeted nervously but didn't say anything during the ride up the two floors to her deck because she didn't know what to say. When the door finally opened she looked up and then over to him, blurting out a rushed, "Why do you want to ruin a perfectly good thing with...dating? And...and a relationship?"

He sighed and stepped across the lift, looking her in the eyes, he said, "Think about it, Cal. We're already in a relationship...and we've already been dating." He took her hand and stepped out of the lift. "You can call it whatever you like...but things do change." As they walked down the corridor to her quarters the dimmed lighting and quietness of deep in Gamma shift allowed them privacy.

She wanted to argue with him... But instead she just let him lead her to her room as she mulled over his words.

He stopped outside her door and turned to her. "I was down on deck fifteen because I needed to think about things...about you and me. I really care about you, Caly...a lot. So I want you to think about it."

She drew in a breath and let it out in that soft huff she always did when he said or did something that confounded her. She still wanted to argue with him, but couldn't think of anything that didn't sound totally inane. How did she explain that sometimes the wording made all the difference because it subtly changed things? She tugged off her cap and ran agitated fingers though her short curls before looking up at him. "Alright," she finally said, and offered him a hesitant smile. "I'll think about it..." And she would.

He smiled and nodded. "Good." He leaned in and kissed her, taking her in his arms and giving her a breathtaking kiss, it was a short kiss, but it was filled with emotion. As he broke off he took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes. "Don't forget to think about that too," he whispered as he backed away and strode down the corridor.

The kiss left her breathless and looking up at him with slightly bemused eyes. She raised trembling fingers up to touch her slightly swollen lips and she nodded at his words, managing to get out a raspy, "Okay" before he turned to leave. She watched him as he walked away, still feeling the tingle of his lips on hers and still breathing in his lingering scent. She took a half step forward before he could turn the corner and move from her sight. "Jurell?" she called out his name, not speaking again until he turned his head to look back at her and paused in the middle of the corridor. "Just so you know..." she started. "I care about you too..." She looked at him for several lingering heartbeats before turning to step into her room, sighing in slight agitation as the door whispered closed behind her.

Her last words made him grin, and he felt several feet taller as he strode away, slinging his jacket over his shoulder, he did a few small dance steps as he went back to the lift, humming along to one of the songs he'd heard over dinner.

---

"Put That in Your Schematic and Smoke It"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineer Crewchief

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters
Stardate: 57910.17, 03h45

***

Caly stripped out of her pants and fell onto the bed dressed in very practical under things. Unsettled was a gross understatement about how she was feeling at the moment. Jurell's kiss, and parting words had her mind racing off in directions she didn't want it to go. It was a stubbornly willful thing, her mind was. And it did what it wanted to do, when it wanted to do it. Generally they agreed, she and her mind... Just not right now. At the moment she'd much rather be thinking about anything else. But she'd promised him... So she let her mind wander where it willed.

He was right. As much as she hated to admit it, they were in a relationship, and they had, for all intents and purposes, been dating. She knew she had a real problem with those words, and for the first time she contemplated exactly why that was. It wasn't that she didn't like Jurell, because she did. And it wasn't even that she wasn't attracted to him, because she was...a little. It was just that... She didn't want to worry about someone else. She didn't want to feel guilty or worry about getting lost in her work and not even remembering someone's very existence, let alone remembering she was supposed to do something, or be somewhere. When you were in a relationship, didn't that come with certain unspoken agreements? Like remembering the other person's birthday... Or their favorite color... Or what their favorite food was. Or that they existed... Half the time she couldn't remember those things about herself. And really, was that fair to anyone? To Jurell? To her?

She tucked her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. She could sense the spiders dotted around her quarters, watching her, Watson especially. But they were the furthest thing from her mind at the moment because what filled it was ice blue eyes and crinkling laugh lines, sandy blonde hair and a deep, resonating voice that really could send shivers dancing along her spine. And the owner of all those things was going to want an answer. Problem was, she didn't have a clue what she was going to tell him. For that matter, she didn't have a clue what she even wanted in a relatio--

"OH!!! That's it! That's it!" she muttered excitedly and practically jumped up off the bed, scrambling to get one of her PADDs, her fingers already moving lightly in the air. "Now if I do this..." she muttered as the stylus moved across the PADD's surface, the conception in her head transferring itself into a very detailed drawing beneath her fingers. "And added some nanites just here... And I'll need to leave this area freed up..." She absently scooted Watson out of the way as he wandered over to see what she was doing. "Not now... Not now..." she murmured to him as she continued to draw out the dragonfly, making little notes and equations in the margins of her work area, all thoughts of Jurell, and relationships and dating crumbling away in the face of Dragonfly Schematics.

---

"Burn-up or Burn-out"
Ensign Andrea Collins

Location: USS Sulu - Crew Quarters, Gymnasium
Stardate: 57910.17 04h15

***

Andrea had been working herself stiff. Not taking any time to eat, hardly any to sleep and yet she still wasn't good enough for Case. She made each training session by at least 15 minutes early, and remained even after everyone else had left. And she was feeling the burn out. She hated losing like this, and with him, she seemed to be losing big time.

Andrea's wake up call sounded, but she'd already been awake now for over fifteen minutes. She reached over and tapped the end-signal on the console next to her bed.

She threw the covers off and headed for the refresher for a shower. The shower took only a matter of a few seconds. Stepping from the sonic shower, Andrea got dressed in her exercise clothes and headed for the gym. The time was 04h35 hours. She had time.

She stepped into the lift and ordered it to the gym. While she waited she thought about her routine. Today was strength and stamina. Butterfly machine - run two laps - over the head arm machine - run two laps - arm curls - run two laps...

The lift doors opened and Andrea stepped out and then continued her routine in her head... Thigh machine - run two laps - leg curls - run two laps - then leg lifts - run two laps...stretching before and after...arms: 110 pounds - legs 130 pounds...50 reps each... This was her strength and stamina routine and it had been before she'd been arrested for stealing...not murder, never murder.

Not that there weren't people with the Knights who didn't kill, I just wasn't one of them. This thought while she was running two of her laps. Andrea finished those laps and went to the thigh machine. She set the weight to 130 and did her 50 reps. Hour one on her arms, hour two on her legs...with laps in between... that was how she'd always done this type of workout.

At 07h05 hours she'd finished the last of her stretches. She left the gym and headed back to her quarters. She'd started in the gym at 04h50 hours and left at 07h10 hours. Twenty minutes longer than Case had said. Not to mention she planned on continuing the routine even after the training cycle was done.

Arriving back at her quarters, she headed back to the refresher to take another sonic shower. Again, the shower took a matter of seconds and she dressed into a uniform. She'd had a protein packed yet tasteless breakfast bar on her way to the gym, she'd been 'eating on the fly' so to speak ever since she'd started this routine. She'd even managed to squeeze her counseling sessions in once a week, and it didn't take much time from her regular duty shift.

However, I don't think the Lieutenant had a problem with it. Especially since he's put me behind the desk in the office. I've had more fun sitting in a brig cell.

***

Location: USS Sulu - Security Office

07h55 hours found her walking in the door to the Security office. Andrea sat down and looked at the PADD...the same PADD that held her daily schedule:

Monday - Sunday
04h00 - 07h00 Physical Training
08h00 - 16h00 Duty Shift
16h00 - 16h30 Free Period
17h00 - whenever Tactical Operations Drills

Then from the end of the tac op drills till 04h15 hours for the schedule to start all over. Andrea tossed the PADD on the desk. I wasn't pulled from the penal colony to sit on my ass behind a desk.

***

Location: USS Sulu - Holodeck One
Time: 16h50 hours

Andrea had arrived in front of holodeck one. Almost always 10 to 15 minutes before training started. She wasn't going to give Case any satisfaction. She was performing well in the training, but during the rescue, she'd been left out of the action. Even Hansen got to have some fun.

What's the point in me participating in all the training if all I'm going to do is babysit the equipment and the injured?

---

"Blanket Talk"
By: Dr. Ilan Potts, Assistant Chief Counselor
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering Crewchief

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters and Dr Potts' Office
Stardate: 57910.17, 05h30

***

Caly had drifted off into a fitful sleep over her PADD and dragonfly schematic while Watson watched on with an eerie silence and electronic eye constantly adjusting for focus. She hadn't been asleep for even an hour when the dream began to waft its way into the edges of her awareness as a soft silken brush against her cheek. She murmured incoherently and hugged the PADD her opposite cheek was nested against.

The touch came again. Soft and whispering light. This time it didn't stop with her cheek, but carried on to brush enticingly over her ear, making her shiver and draw in a soft breath as her pulse quickened.

It came again, and this time her breath and pulse both quickened and she let out a soft, breathy 'mmmmmmm.....', her body moving lightly in her sleep.

The whispery soft touch pulled away and in its place came a cold, clammy dragging over the surface of her throat, causing her to immediately recoil with a whimpering sound of protest and a frown marring her brow. The cloyingly sweet scent assailed her nostrils next and her frown deepened. Then the cold, clammy dragging was back and before she could recoil there was a bite to the soft flesh of her throat. She screamed then and leapt up from the bed, her PADD held in her hands defensively, her breath coming in soft, adrenaline pumping breaths as her heart raced and thudded against her chest. Green eyes blinked and widened into saucers as she stared at the creature before her.

It looked like a Dragonfly, but something was horribly, horribly wrong. It was easily as big as she was, bigger even. White wings were anchored to an inky black body and beat incessantly, washing that cloyingly sweet smell over her and dragging at her senses. Two huge penetrating ice blue eyes stared at her, and when it opened its maw, twin dripping vampiric fangs flashed with a menacing gleam as the creature approached her, its body undulating in some primal dance of possession. Its eyes were fastened on her throat and the wings threatened to completely surround her in their beating.

Caly backed up and screamed, swinging the PADD at its head which grew in comparison to the Dragonfly. "Go away!!! Go away!!" she screamed, swinging frantically and backing up as the creature advanced on her, his mouth homing in on the soft, tender flesh of her throat where her pulse beat through the stark blue vein throbbing just beneath its surface. She was vaguely aware of the appearance of a dozen or more eerie violet eyes staring at her as the room around them darkened and all the details faded from view, save for her bed.

"NNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!" She continued to backup, over the top of the bed, swinging wildly now as her feet got tangled in the sheets and she went tumbling off the edge, landing in a heap on the floor. Her breath was heaving and her lungs were starting to burn now from screaming and drawing in ragged breaths. She crab-crawled backwards until the corner of the room stopped her progress and she was trapped. The creature saw his opportunity and moved in for the kill, its mouth opening wide, dark fangs glinting almost hypnotically as she cringed and it loomed over her.

It took Watson leaping onto her shoulder to startle her back into her senses, and something inside her snapped. She leapt to her feet, screaming at the monster and swinging the PADD at it, landing solid blows as she advanced.

"GET OUT!!! GET OUT!!! WHACK IT'S MY NECK WHACK AND YOU KEEP WHACK YOUR WHACK SWEET WHACK SUCKING FANGS WHACK OFF IT!!!" WHACKWHACKWHACK

Caly blinked green eyes into focus and looked around, her breath still coming in labored pants, the PADD held with a death grip of white-knuckled fingers, Watson clinging precariously to the strap of her tank top, her heart beating wildly.... And her 'whacked-into-smashed-submission' pillow laying in a helpless dead heap on the floor at her feet......

She blinked and looked at Watson, who'd crawled up fully onto her shoulder and blinked back at her. They both looked at the pillow and Caly said simply, "Don't worry, Watson. I think I killed it...."

***

It was the confusion that was getting to her. The puzzled thoughts and the odd feelings. Strange nightmares that had her waking up after only an hour of sleep and poking incessantly at the edges of her mind, disrupting her normally well categorized thought process, and attacking her with sucking fangs.

It was Jurell.

And it was Shirik.

Relationships.

And dating.

The whole thing was starting to eat at her. It was a puzzle that defied her abilities and that was something she'd never come up against before. She didn't have the right tools to fix it. And that was what she needed. The right tools.

"Computer, are any of the counselors in their offices?" she asked. She and Watson were still eyeing the dead pillow in the middle of her floor.

"Doctor Potts and Ensign F'Zal are in their offices," the computer responded.

"Are they alone?" Caly asked. She was surprised that anyone was up actually. Maybe she wasn't the only one who needed someone to talk to in the middle of the night.

"Doctor Potts is alone." The computer was so helpful.

"Thank you," Caly responded automatically and grabbed her pack on the way out of her room.

It was Dragonflies. She could blame it all on Dragonflies. It was Giant Dragonflies with ice blue eyes, black inky bodies, snow white wings and sucking fangs that brought her to Dr. Potts' door during the middle of Gamma shift in stocking feet, soft cotton drawstring pants, a tank top, and had her ringing the chime.

There was the sound of rustling encased in a duranium box before the door slid open. Potts looked a little sleepy eyed but instantly smiled broad at the sight of Boothroyd. He was wearing a black silk bathrobe, cut obscenely short but fortunately securely cinched, revealing far too much of the man's curiously hairy chest that looked even more so beneath his bald dome. Caly took in the outfit with a gently quirked bow but wisely didn't comment on it.

"Chief Petty Officer Boothroyd!" he exclaimed happily, pumping her hand and grinning wildly at her. "I must admit...I've dreamed of this moment. You coming to me in the wee hours, a certain knowing look in your eye. Me, looking rather fetching in my --"

"..bathrobe?" she added helpfully and smiled back. "I didn't mean to wake you, sir... I didn't think you'd be asleep if you were here," she explained. "Can... Can we talk? I can make an appointment and come back during regular hours if you'd prefer..." She watched him with slightly troubled green eyes.

"Here?" he asked with a straight face, prompting him to look behind him. "Oh, here!" he exclaimed, turning back around. "I actually forgot I was in my office, if you can believe such nonsense." He double checked the cinch on his robe then motioned toward the inside of the room. "I'm quite prepared to meet with you now, if you'll excuse my attire."

Caly was probably one of the few people in the universe that could believe he forgot he was in his office. "It's entirely excused," she smiled a little as she stepped into the room. "I can believe you forgot," she admitted and scooped an armful of books off one of the chairs and pushed it around so it was facing the couch before she plopped down in it with the books now in her lap.

"I thought you could help me, sir... Since you've had so many relationships before. And you see, I don't do relationships," she started right in.

"A pity," Potts remarked, gathering up his blanket and wrapping it around himself demurely. He plopped down on the couch, the gray woolen cover forming a shroud-like hood for his head. "If you've come here only to break my heart..." Potts trailed off in a warning tone with just enough eye twinkle to convey his mirth.

Caly grinned, taking it for teasing and relaxing a bit. "I'd never do that," she assured him. "But you see... I seem to be in one and I'm not sure how I got there," she told him. "Well, I kind of know... I think. But I'm not real sure what to do now."

"It snuck up on you, eh?" Potts asked from within the depths of his blanket. "I've always rather liked that feeling of not seeing a relationship coming and then finding myself knee deep in one." He studied her thoughtfully. "But it distresses you?"

"Distresses? Oh hell, sir... It makes me unsettled," which sounded really bad the way she said it. "I mean... I just can't do them." She got up and started pacing, her arms wrapped around the books even as the fingers of one hand began to move lightly in the air. "I suck at them." She stopped to face him for a moment. Long enough to look him in the eyes and sigh before going back to pacing. "And I hate that kind of responsibility. Remember this, remember that, focus on this thing over here, and pay attention to that thing right there... I mean.. You have to so all that, don't you?"

"To some degree, yes," Potts nodded, fairly frank for a change. "But when you care about someone, it usually makes it easier to focus on them." Potts leaned back on the couch, studying her carefully. "How many relationships would you say you've had, Calyca?"

Care about someone? She blinked. Did she? She did, some. Maybe a little more than some... She stopped her pacing and turned to look at him. "Uhhh... None..." she shrugged helplessly and made a soft sound of frustration and went back to pacing. "They're messy and distracting, and honestly no one's ever stuck around long enough because I really can't remember all that stuff. I get in the middle of something and everything else just disappears," she explained. "And Jurell... He's like this puzzle where all the pieces are exactly the same and I can't figure it out."

"There's no harm in trying," Potts reminded her. "Crewman Sorg doesn't strike me as particularly vexing...in spite of some of his more disturbing fixations." He leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially. "His psych profile is the largest I've ever read."

Caly blinked. Jurell had disturbing fixations???? Light shock registered in the depths of her green eyes. What kinds of disturbing fixations?

Potts laughed outright at her expression, tipping her that he was teasing. He patted the couch next to him. Caly blinked again and let out a soft huff of breath, eyeing the good doctor as she plopped down next to him. "I'm only trying to express that Crewman Sorg is not an unsolvable puzzle but a man with seemingly good taste in women." He nudged her with his elbow. "To be fair to both him and you, your track record of none hardly makes your aptitude at relationships an absolute. Even after you've had one, it still won't be...but you'll be on your way."

"But I'm not sure I want to be on my way," she grumbled. "And he is an unsolvable puzzle... And I have no aptitude which is why I need you to give me the tools I need to figure it out," she explained. "And... And I don't have a clue how Shirik fits into the puzzle, but she does. It's like a whole bunch of her pieces fit in perfectly with his, only I don't have a schematic to keep everything straight and understand how the whole thing interrelates," she went on, one hand lightly gesturing in the air, fingers 'drawing' some abstract object.

"Oh, I can give you some ins and outs," Potts said, nodding his head. "I can quote you studies and give you tips and techniques but ultimately they are so much rubbish. Both you and Sorg Jurell are unique beings and your relationship will have its own unique elements. I'm sorry, Caly, but what works for me doesn't even really work for me, if you get my meaning."

Caly blinked her eyes and stared at him. "Well... Uh wait... You can't help me then?" she asked in no small amount of dismay and disbelief. "But... Who will?" she blinked again and looked at him rather helplessly.

"I can help you," Potts affirmed, sounding sure of himself. "I can help you find what will work for you." He stood up then and strode towards his office replicator. "We'll only need a bit of time and a blanket of your own."

"Oh..." She let out a relieved sigh and watched him. "A what? Wait. Why do I need a blanket of my own?"

Potts stopped short at the replicator, turning around slowly with an incredulous and indignant expression. "Well, I look rather silly being the only one, don't I?" he asked emphatically, drawing himself up to his full height.

The only one-- "OH! Well... I guess bathrobe misery does love company, huh?" she asked and gave him a quirky little smile as she settled back into the sofa. "Just... Not blue, okay?" she requested. "Or violet... Or black... Or white... Or blond--uh.. Yellow... You know... I think orange is a good safe color..."

"Computer," Potts said with a smile. "Woolen blanket, please. Standard size. Orange color." A few microseconds of processing and a folded orange blanket appeared in the replicator alcove. Potts whipped it out and tossed it to Boothroyd who neatly caught it and dumped the books off her lap to wrap the warm softness around her. It clashed horribly with her hair.

Potts looked Boothroyd up and down for several moments, just long enough to make it uncomfortable before he turned back to the replicator and whispered to it. There seemed to be several brief moments of study that he hid well behind his gray blanket before he whispered to the replicator again and the tell-tale blue shimmer created something that she could not see.

She blinked and watched him and squirmed a bit, giving him a what? look and wondering what the heck he was doing.

Potts padded back to the couch and produced a doll from beneath his blanket. It was female and wearing a gold-collared Starfleet uniform. It was unmistakably fashioned after Boothroyd..

Caly quirked a brow at the doll, taking it from him and looking down at the thing, her fingers plucking at the shock of hair. "You just replicated this," she accused with a smile.

"Guilty," he admitted, sliding back onto the couch next to Boothroyd.

"So.... Uhh.... This thing have girl parts under here?" she asked as she started plucking curiously at the uniform

"The doll is anatomically correct," Potts said, reaching for it himself. "I took the liberty of using your medical records as a template." Potts began to remove the doll's pants. "In fact, I had a few concerns about one of your moles..."

"Hey!! My girl parts??" She smacked his hands away from her pants and pulled the doll from him, hugging it protectively against her chest. "Cut that out.... Jeez... You got my moles on her?" She couldn't help laughing. "You! You, uh... just leave her clothes on."

"Pity," Potts lamented, continuing to smile as he studied her. "I have to ask...when you put your interaction with Crewman Sorg into this ridiculous therapeutic environment, does it still all seem so perplexing?"

Caly gave him an I know what you're up to look, but she did think about his question. "No," she answered honestly. "But I'm not sure if that isn't because I'm trying to maintain my virtue here," she added and straightened the mini-hers clothes. "I suppose you got my birthmark too then..." she muttered and tugged on the waistband of the pants, unable to not take a peek down them. She blinked and quickly let them go with a light snap and a, "Good gods..."

"You'll find me very thorough," Potts remarked, attempting to get a peek of his own.

She pulled the doll back and tucked it under one arm, giving him a Hah! look as she did. "I'll bet." It was half accusation, and half 'this is so weird I think I should laugh'. "It's not as easy as just.... Making him not perplexing," she explained and gestured with her hands, the fingers of one of them starting to make seemingly random motions in the air. "It's much, much more complicated than that."

"How so?"

"You see," Caly began to explain. "Two months ago, when I first met him...before the Awards party...Shiri told me he was in love with her. And then he told me he was in love with her. Of course she doesn't love him 'cause she's in love with T'Kal, but I think she cares a lot more for him than she realizes," she added and nodded sagely. "And she is my best friend, so you can see the...complication?"

"Not exactly," Potts said with a shrug. "Deltans usually form relationships in groups of four or more...which admittedly is not typical for you Earthers, or Bajorans, or Drokari."

"Well yeah, I'm not into group relationships. Heck, I'm not even into one relationships. And I thought he was out of the this belongs to Shiri box, but I'm not really positive," she told him and then continued on. "And of course you know that T'Kal doesn't love her, he's in love with the XO. And to top it off! She's mate-bonded to the Vulcan Science officer, Saavar. Uhh...Shiri is, not the XO." Then she looked at Potts with all the recently described convoluted confusion echoing in the depths of her eyes. "This is SOOO why I don't do relationships. 'Cause... Where am I going to be in two months, huh? Is it so easy to stop loving someone? He says he doesn't think he ever really was in love with her. Is it so easy to not know that kind of thing? I think it's just safer and a lot more healthy to stick to Engineering because I don't have the tools or schematics to figure out all that other stuff." She stopped to take a breath.

Potts took a moment to think, gathering his blanket close around him. "In my experience, the Bajorans are a passionate people, not prone to easily dismiss feelings." He looked at her from under his makeshift hood. "I was once married to a Bajoran woman, you know."

"You were?" Caly blinked and frowned a bit. "Was it as convoluted and confusing as all this is?"

"Oh, well...the marriage only lasted two days," Potts admitted ruefully. "But the relationship continued after the annulment. In spite of not wanting to be married to me, casting me aside did not seem to be so easy for her." Potts' milky blue eyes met her emeralds ones. "Do you think Crewman Sorg is correct when he says he never really loved Ensign Lektar?"

Caly sighed at the question and her fingers continued to work lightly, reflecting her mind working out the problem. Finally she turned and looked at Potts, her eyes troubled an thoughtful. "I believe him," she admitted. "But is that because he believes it? I know he wouldn't lie to me. But is he not in love with her? Or just believes it 'cause she's the unattainable Princess and he's the lowly Crewman? And how will he ever really know for sure if he was in love with her or not? I saw the way he looked at her when I first met him. And the way she looked at him at the party, after she'd introduced us and I somehow wound up on a date of all things."

"That--" Potts held up a long, narrow index finger "-- is avoidance. You're putting all responsibility for the date either on Crewman Sorg or on the Fates. You did have a part to play."

"No... Actually I was gonna blame Shirik," she told him with a small smile. "I only agreed to go because of her. But I did agree to the 'date'..." she admitted. "And I don't have a clue what part I was suppose to play," she added. "Or if I managed to do it."

"You're telling me that you don't do relationships yet you find yourself in one," Potts pointed out. "Do you feel like you were manipulated into it?"

Caly blinked at the question and glanced from the doll that had found its way back into her hands, to him, and then back again. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe a little... But then again, not really. It's not like I don't have a mouth and couldn't say no," she pointed out honestly. "It just kind of...happened while I had my nose buried in something else. And it was okay when it was just... You know, us doing things together and hanging out...talking and stuff. But now... Now he wants to call me his girlfriend." The word was definitely given the eating worms tone. "And he wants to do the whole relationship and dating thing! Both!!! I'm afraid it'll ruin everything if I have to...be his girlfriend," she grumbled and ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know how to do that! I've never done it before! They have specs for that?" She turned troubled green eyes to him. "I had a nightmare before I came to see you.... I never have nightmares."

One of Potts' pale legs peeked out from the blanket as he crossed them at the knee. "This certainly does seem to be causing you an undue amount of anxiety," Potts agreed, not wanting to get into dream interpretation. "While I happen to think exploring such a relationship could have its benefits for you, perhaps Crewman Sorg is not an appropriate candidate."

Caly blinked. "Candidate? I don't want any candidates, and I'm certainly not going to go looking for some kind of...of...of replacement!" She frowned heavily. "I like him," she admitted, her voice grumbling and a deep frown marring her brow. "It'd be a whole lot easier if I didn't."

"What's not to like?" Potts asked rhetorically. "Just a couple months ago, he was in love with your best friend. And now, he seems intent on making your relationship something other than what you wish it to be."

She looked up at him, a frown still marring her brow. "He won't if I say no," she admitted and unconsciously defended Jurell. "He did ask if it was okay, so I can't really be upset with him because the whole thing unsettles me... Can I?"

"No," Potts admitted. "Though it might be a bit more fair if you make a decision one way or another and stick to it."

Caly sighed and nodded, her eyes going back to the mini-her in her hands. "I suppose that's why I'm here," she admitted. "I don't think I have the tools I need to make that decision." She looked back at him and smiled a little wryly. "You don't have any snazzy counselor tools you can spare, do ya?"

"Techniques," Potts corrected, smiling. "And I do have a few I can spare, if you'll be so kind as to hand me the doll."

Caly looked at the doll and then back at Potts, handing it over only when she was sure that the pants were secure. Potts accepted it graciously and turned it back towards her as if making a display.

"Now, show me where Jurell touched you," he urged gently.

---

"Something Wicked"
Captain Matthew T. Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla - XO Station
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Tactical Station
Lt. Commander Sam - Operations Station
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Science Station One
Lt.(jg) Giles McKenzie - Helm Control

Location: Main Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17 13h21

***

Captain Matthew Salinger watched the activity on the bridge from his chair, enjoying the enthusiasm with which the crew went about their duties. There was nothing more exciting to watch, at least in his opinion, than a Starfleet crew in their element. Watching the birth of the protostar was definitely Starfleet's element. He only hoped the members of the crew like Lyrr could find the same sort of enthusiasm from the scientific discoveries the ship made.

"Radiation index is at point seven seven three," called one voice.

"Gamma reaching nominal levels," came another. "Probe telemetry data still strong."

Matt grinned and watched his own personal display that listed the probe's data as it fed back to the Sulu. The data they were gathering would be useful for Starfleet, especially since this sort of event was so rare.

"Captain." Benedict T'Kal looked up from the Tactical display. "Long range sensors have picked up an energy surge at...two sixty seven point nine five mark two three. Unspecified at this range, it's extreme. It's gone. It only lasted three point seven seconds. Some kind of sub-space distortion, spherical bubble. No match on any known source."

"Evaluation?" Salinger asked turning slightly in his chair to see the Bajoran Tactical Officer.

"No threat indicators, sir. No vessels showing in range. Nothing would show at this distance - the point source was fairly powerful. It just appeared and faded." T'Kal shrugged. Their own tactical situation was good. The Sulu was close to the proto-star so it was well shielded by the star's corona and pulsing gamma radiation. It did degrade Sulu's sensors by 6% though. That meant decreased extreme range but that was acceptable as no ship would be able to pick them up until they were almost on top of them.

Salinger turned to Science Station One. "Lieutenant Tagliesh?"

"It is not uncommon for subspace disturbances to manifest this close to an emerging star, Captain." The Chief Science Officer gave him a grin as she turned in her seat, offering a becoming profile of her uniformed figure. "Space surrounding a proto-star is in a constant state of flux. Gravitic distortion waves may cause similar events to the one we've just witnessed. It is as likely a hypothesis as any," she finished in her usual drawl, but the slight smirk was only for him.

Salinger nodded. He turned back to the screen to see the mottled expanse of the would-be star's surface as it went through the stages of compression. The first birthing twinge had been several hours ago. The core of the star was beginning to condense enough to start the reaction. The outer shell was just a dense corona of swirling gaseous matter that was being inexorably pulled toward its centre. As it did so, the density increased and the gravitic force increased to a point that would ignite the chain reaction of fission. Once that started the star would rapidly collapse inward, reach super temperatures and then rapidly expand as the coriolis forces started it spinning. It was a beautiful sight. It would be magnificent.

"Keep monitoring the situation, Commander," he said to both T'Kal and Sam and settled back to watch the show.

-=- 13h47 -=-

"Sir, I have a vessel on long range scans." T'Kal's fingers danced on the Tactical display. "It's moving at Warp Four and will overtake this position in two minutes. It appears to be a Dominion attack craft, sir. Approach vector is...two sixty seven point nine five mark two three." It was the same heading as the previous energy disturbance.

One eyebrow arched on Matt's forehead. "Dominion," he mused. "On screen, full magnification."

The telemetry data still pouring into the Sulu was replaced by a starscape with a tiny blip that was getting incrementally larger. Matt leaned forward in his seat, studying the image.

"There is a cluster of ships in pursuit of the Dominion ship, Captain," Sam said, turning to face the center of the bridge. "They appear to be Seeblin."

The corner of Salinger's mouth twitched. "Seeblin? Very interesting..."

"Aye, sir," the android operations officer responded. "Presently, I detect eight vessels. Their tactical systems are armed."

One Seeblin ship was not a threat, or not much of one at any rate. A group of them, however, could be. The diminutive species had some very intriguing customs, though commonly those customs were unpleasant for outsiders. They were also highly territorial.

"So, does Dr. Potts have new competition within the heavens of the Seeblin, or are they just trying to catch dinner before it gets away." He noticed McKenzie shudder at the thought of anyone trying to ingest a Jem'Hadar.

Lyrr Tayla ignored the jests and peered at the LCARS terminal to assess Ben's tactical readings. Her fingers tightened on the armrest of her chair, finding morbid delight at the sight of the Jem'Hadar taking on the role of prey for once. She glanced momentarily in Ben's direction, wondering if he, too, was enjoying the situation's irony, but his eyes were transfixed to his tactical display. Admiring his focus, she returned her own to her monitor.

"The Dominion ship is broadcasting a general distress call, Captain," T'Kal announced, though the look on his face showed what he truly thought of that idea. "We have not been detected, and the radiation from the nebula will shield us from their sensors."

"Hold our position, Mr. McKenzie," Matt said. "Let's see what happens when they get a little closer. Full passive sensor sweep once they're in range. Go to yellow alert status."

"Aye," came the responses from around the bridge.

"Captain," Benedict called, "recommend coming about to one eighty mark zero."

Salinger quickly examined the updated data and answered, "Do it."

They would hold their position, but spin in place, unmasking the more powerful forward sensors and also bringing the Sulu's main weapons to bear. The ship would be able to remain with its back to the wall of the proto-star if that was what the captain ordered. But she would also be in position to come out of the sun - literally unseen like a cloaked vessel, only with the tactical advantage of having weapons available. Tactical surprise was the Sulu's. Benedict's face split into a feral grin. They owed the Seeblin, but the Dominion weren't allies either.

Time seemed to crawl as they watched the Dominion ship grow larger on the screen. Every so often, a sudden flurry of weapons fire would arc from the Seeblin ships to pepper the attack craft. Plasma was clearly venting from the port side of the Dominion ship, and many systems were showing critical on the Sulu's scans.

"Structural integrity of the Dominion Attack craft is down to forty-three percent," Sam said. "Internal atmosphere is venting into space. Their warp engines are off line and damage to their power systems are significant. The Seeblin ships are continuing to fire. They are still broadcasting a distress call." Sam looked almost pointedly at Salinger.

"Commander," Matt said, looking to Sam again. "Who claims the territory we're in?"

"The territory is unclaimed, Captain."

Matt looked back to the Dominion ship, fleeing and nearly destroyed. He set his jaw, and glanced around the bridge. "Sound Red Alert," he called. "Prepare to move to defend the Dominion ship. Phasers only, shoot to disable. Take us in, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Captain," McKenzie nodded. With that, the ship edged forward, moving to overcome the speeds of the Dominion and Seeblin ships.

And, the battle was joined.

---

"The Past"
by Ensign Marp

Location: Marp's Quarters
Stardate: 57910.17 13h30

***

Marp walked triumphantly through the Ferengi market. He had just scored big. Huge. He was now wealthier than his father and brothers combined. Heck, I have more wealth than the Nagus himself, he thought. It was shaping up to be a very good day.

Marp had just completed several deals on the Ferengi market that had made him very good profits. He was now on his way home to gloat. His brothers and father had been tormenting him for ages about his lack of business success. Now finally, Marp was going to put an end to all of that. He was rich! Marp reveled in his new found riches.

On his way home he had stopped off at a tailor's shop. It was important for a Ferengi of his stature to look rich, filthy rich. He entered the shop and strode over to the Ferengi in charge. "You there, I will take the most expensive suit that you have. Spare no expense."

The tailor squinted his eyes and looked at Marp. "And how would you be paying for this?"

Marp reached into his pockets and pulled out several bars of latinum, "With these." Marp slapped him down onto the counter in front of the startled shopkeeper, who quickly picked up a bar and examined it closely

The tailor's nose twitched and he smiled, "Spare no expense you say?" This was not a normal Ferengi, he thought. No Ferengi would say such a statement.

"None, I want your best," said Marp.

"Fifteen more of these then," said the Tailor, holding up a bar of latinum.

"Fifteen," said Marp incredulously. "Not a bar more than eight."

'Ten more or go away," said the tailor. Perhaps he had some Ferengi blood in him after all, thought the tailor.

Marp grudgingly paid the tailor and when he left he was dressed in the finest clothing a Ferengi could buy. Whistling a happy tune Marp entered his family home. What elation he had was quickly erased. His whole family was waiting for him . His father and brothers wore angry loathing looks on their faces while his mother and sister looked at their toes and said nothing.

"Marp," said a Ferengi who Marp did not know. "Liquidator Bork, FCA"

"Um... Yeah...What can I do for you," said Marp. He could feel his wonderful day slipping away.

Bork chuckled, "Judging for your fancy new clothing you had a good day today. Our records indicated you set a new record today. You made more profit in one day than most Ferengi make in a lifetime."

"What can I say, I have good lobes for business," said Marp. One of his brothers tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. His father just glared at him. Marp knew that the FCA was not here to offer congratulations.

"Yes, well your past business dealings have not ended so well. We decided to open an investigation. Losers like you just do not get so lucky. Not without help." Bork grinned at Marp. "You cheated."

"All Ferengi cheat," protested Marp.

"Yes, but the good ones do not get caught." Bork smiled again. "I was just reviewing our evidence with your family. Very clever of you to re-program several market computer programs."

"I do not know what you are talking about," Marp lied.

"Yes, I am sure you don't. I am afraid, however, I have frozen all of your assets and the assets of your family." There was a general uproar in the room. His brothers protesting loudly.

"Marp is of age, he is responsible for his own actions. Surely you will not hold us accountable for his stupidity," said Marp's father.

"You should have trained him better," said Bork

"I should have sold him to the Orions," said his father. "Tell me, Bork, is there no other arrangement we can make?"

Bork eyes twinkled. This waswhat he was hoping for. "I am willing to listen to any ideas you might have for resolving this situation."

"Come into my office," said Marp's father. "I am sure we can work this out." The two of them left the room for what seemed to Marp like a year. They sat in silence and waiting. Marp's brothers glared at him.

When Bork and Marp's father returned, Bork was smiling. He said nothing as he left. Marp’s father fixed him with an angry glare. "You have cost me for the last time, Marp. Get out of those clothes and then get out of my house. I never want to set eyes on you again. You are not worthy to chew my food. Get out!"

Marp sat up in bed. He was covered in sweat and his heart was pounding. The red alert klaxon was sounding.

Marp got out of bed and quickly threw on his uniform. Marp was grateful that the red alert came when it did. He did not want to relive any more of his past. Quickly Marp left his quarters and headed to the shuttle bay hangar.

---

"Interrupted Confession"
By Lt. (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: Arboretum, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 13h40

***

The lack of noise was both disconcerting and relaxing at the same time.

No one had entered the plant-filled cargo bay for almost fifteen minutes now and a barely noticeable symphony of swaying bushes, shrubs, trees, and countless flowers was making itself known to his ears as he vainly tried to reread his flight control subroutine modifications. Only the occasional whoosh of air being cycled through numerous hidden ventilator ducts around the room equated to anything tangibly close to loud noise.

He frowned at the PADD. Without the usual chatter and noise from people interacting with each other, Vijay struggled to focus his attention on a seemingly endless number of computer lines sitting before him. It annoyed and relaxed him virtually simultaneously. The arboretum was strangely quiet, deserted except for himself and a few thousand plants.

It was almost...deathly silent as it were, eerily so.

Sanat shrugged, then smiled as he turned off the PADD and placed it next to him. He sat back and closed his eyes to enjoy this rhythm permeating everything surrounding him. After a few minutes of concentrated awareness, the half-Vulcan pilot could feel a slight thrumming coming from the Sulu's warp core; gently vibrating the deck plating below his feet, it felt alive, this ship exploring the Gamma Quadrant. Vijay let the energy pulsate through his very being as he sat alone and unaware of time itself.

Stopping, Gui closed her eyes as she stepped inside the Arboretum and breathed in the air deeply. Holographic images may look like the real thing but nothing could compare to actually being surrounded in actual plant life as opposed to standing in a room of painted plants.

Kneeling, Nathalie lowered Joji to the ground. "Go play...just keep out of trouble, okay?" Nuzzling her master's chin with her nose, the corgi gave a soft woof of acknowledgement before padding off into the tall grasses. Nat watched as her pet scampered off, knowing full well that she would more than likely be snuggling up under a shady spot by a tree napping. The most she would probably chase here would be her tail.

Walking off in another direction of the Arboretum, Gui looked around searching for a quiet spot of her own. Her feet froze to a dead halt as she spotted an altogether familiar form sitting on a bench napping. Nathalie weighed her options deciding if she should flee or stay, instead she found herself saying one word.

"Sanat?"

Her query echoed around inside Sanat's carefree consciousness for several seconds before his mind realized that the Sulu had in fact, not uttered his name...no, it was someone else...someone familiar...Nathalie.

At first Vijay scolded himself for wishful thinking...after their last fight, he thought any possibility for a relationship with the beautiful woman was beyond all reasonable hope...a plate of refried beans thrown in anger could dampen even the most promising prospects for joy.... Add a taco and burrito...well, it lent itself to a situation of never being in the same room ever again while Mexican food was being served; there was such a thing as a fun food fight and one in bad taste.

Very bad taste....

The pilot let his body recall his mind and a few moments passed until both eyelids fluttered open. He turned in the general direction of her voice. "Yes?" Putting out a hand to push himself up straighter, Sanat glanced around until he found Nat standing across the bay.

"Didn't expect to run into you here, mind if I join you?" Nathalie found herself nervous for some reason; if anything she felt as though she was literally walking on eggshells right now. Taking another step forward she absentmindedly brushed a strand of reddish brown hair behind her ear. "I think we should talk."

"It's not a place I frequent much." With a slight tilt of his head, Sanat offered, "No, I do not mind." He let Nat get closer while listening to her state that they should talk; his face remained impassive as she walked up to the bench he was seated on. Reaching for his PADD, Vijay replied, "Yes, we probably should...."

"I have a tendency to come here when being on a Holodeck isn't enough. Joji enjoys coming here more than I do." She stood still as she spoke not knowing if she should chance sitting next to him.

"Would you care to sit down?" The pilot motioned with his hand to the empty bench area next to him. In an attempt to ease some slightly perceptible tension, Sanat let a small, playful grin work across his lips. "I swear there is no Mexican food close by."

"Thanks." Sitting down, Nathalie chuckled half-heartedly at his remark. "I didn't bring any Mexican food either, so you're safe." Nathalie looked down at her hands not sure of what to say, a part of herself debating on whether or not she should speak or risk igniting another heated duel of words between them both.

Still maintaining a slight smile, Sanat regarded Nat for a few moments as she sat next to him staring at her hands. No words, neither biting or harsh, nor happy or witty came from his mouth as he tried to gage her mood. When it became readily apparent that she would not start the conversation without some stimuli from him, Vijay turned his head a tad to stare off into the greenery arrayed around them.

A nearby Gsuba tree barely moved as more air was exchanged quietly.

Neither person spoke for a few uncounted minutes; it seemed that the silence was becoming deafening, possibly overpowering, as nothing else disturbed their personally self-imposed exile; or no one.

Finally, out-of-the-blue, he asked in a quiet voice, his face neutral once more, "Have you ever just sat and listened to the ship talk?" Still looking away at a bush with soft white petals adorning its upper branches, the tall man continued with, "To really focus on her heartbeat, her rhythm?"

She nodded, leaning back as she listened to Sanat speak. "Sometimes late at night when I find I can't sleep. I listen to the sounds of the ship; the humming of the power fluctuating and passing through various areas of the ship, I can never really tell if I'm hearing the engines themselves but sometimes I like to think I can. It's comforting in some way, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is...odd that, don't you think?" The pilot nodded for emphasis. "I find the ship's sounds can be quite stimulating if you let your mind concentrate long enough in a quiet place." He turned and asked her openly, "How deep into a meditative state do you get before the sounds come through clearly?"

"The sounds come through clearly to me when I reach the state of feeling completely aware of everything around me. I would say when I'm beginning to drift deeper into a meditative state, why do you ask?" she asked, looking over to Sanat curiously.

He looked at Nat for a second before turning away. A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he said, "Maybe that's our problem...we aren't listening to each other's meaning, just the words." Sanat let his head turn back. "For that I truly apologize."

Looking down, Nat shook her head not all together certain of what to say. "As much as I would like to believe you, I don't know what to think. If you're truly sorry or the next chance we get, we'll jump at each other's throats...I don't know..."

Vijay lowered his eyes after Nat shook her head. "Yes...we don't have a good record on that account...." The half Vulcan started to say, "Sometimes I just can't seem to stop myself," but checked his words at, "Sometimes I just..." letting them taper off as he moved his eyes to the arbor just behind the bench.

Nat looked back up to Sanat as his words hung in the air, his sentence incomplete. Shifting slightly, she touched her hand to his gently; no animosity was portrayed in this action towards the half Vulcan. Nathalie wasn't quite sure why she did it either. Drawing his attention back towards her, she looked into his dark eyes and asked softly, "Just...? Just...what?"

"I just..."

That's when the klaxon interrupted with its Red Alert declaration. Sam's voice came over the arboretum's intercom speaker, "All hands, report to your designated battle station...I repeat, all hands, report to your designated battle station...."

They both looked at each other and stood up briskly. Sanat started to say something before both officers bolted for the door, but Joji, confused by the loud noise being emitted by the screeching klaxon, came bounding towards Nat, drawing her attention away from him.

Gripping the PADD tightly, Vijay swiveled about on his heels and trotted towards the door. As it opened to let him out, the half Vulcan turned around and looked back towards Nathalie. When her eyes met his, he smiled sincerely and then turned to run to his battle station.

The door closed as he ran away towards the main hangar deck....

---

"Time for Sparring"
by Ensign Tristan Percival Finn
and, Lt. jg Taylor Bennett

Location: Holodeck 2, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 13h40

***

His stance was relaxed and ready, alert for any attempt she would make to get around his defenses. Tristan Percival Finn watched warily as Taylor Bennett circled around him, her bare feet a whisper on the mat. He circled in place, following her every move. They both wore white workout uniforms, styled after the gi commonly used in Terran martial arts. He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked in it. Or how she always seemed to know he was thinking she looked cute, and used that precise moment to launch her attack.

Taylor wasn't sure if it was the wistful look in his eyes or the little grin that curled his lips. In any case, she knew at that moment Finn was distracted. She dropped to the ground, easily balancing on one leg while the other swept out toward Finn. While he did manage to regain some of his composure after his distraction, he couldn't stop her attack. He tried to avoid, but not in time. Her leg connected with his, and brought him crashing down to the mat.

As soon as he felt is legs going out from under him, Finn knew he was in trouble. With arms windmilling like some crazy cartoon character, gravity invoked its dominion over him, and pulled him down into the cushy mat with a smack. Had he not been certain that the mat was inanimate, Finn was certain it would have been mocking him. He quickly cast the thought aside as he realized that Taylor hadn't quite finished with her attack.

She was up into the air again, leg flexed, knee forward. When she came down, her knee only found the mat. She grinned to herself as she saw Finn roll away, and then regain his footing with a little trick she'd taught him a couple weeks ago.

"Not bad," she said as she regained her own footing and began circling once more. "But, your concentration is--"

"Pathetic," Finn finished for her.

"That wasn't the word I was going to use," Taylor said with a grin. "Just remember that the Seeblin won't be so forgiving."

"I'd fall on the Seeblin and crush them," Finn said. "And, it's just...it's so embarrassing to be beat up by a girl."

Taylor laughed. "Well, if you don't start concentrating, you're going to be beat up by a girl a lot." She launched another kick at him, wheeling for the side of his head. He blocked it with a forearm and shoved her back. She countered, and brought the other leg around, aimed to crack against his jaw.

Stifling a yelp, Finn caught her foot before it could touch him, and twisted.

Taylor went with the twist, her entire body rolling with the movement. Her foot came up and found her target. Finn's hold on her ankle disappeared and she heard him groan.

"That's not cricket," he murmured as he sank to the mat.

"Oh Finn, I didn't...did I?"

"Unlike some species of aliens," Finn whispered, "I keep my genitals in the same place as other humans." He rolled onto his side in agony. "Next time, just kick me in the knees please."

Taylor flopped to the ground beside him, stifling her chuckles. "Oh Finn," she said. "I--I'm really sorry. I am."

Finn wheezed a laugh. "You sound sorry," he gasped. "So very sorry and remorseful."

"To make it up to you," Taylor said, taking his hand into hers, "how about I take you out to dinner? We can get all dressed up and everything if you'd like."

"Sure," Finn said, rolling onto his back. "Just...you...as long as you don't kick me again."

"I promise," Taylor said. "Is there anything I can...you know, to help?"

"Just...ow, don't touch. I figure if I just lay here, eventually my left testicle will grow weary of visiting my lungs and return home. You are an evil woman, Taylor."

"I am really sorry, Finn," Taylor said. "I do feel terrible."

"You don't know the meaning of feeling terrible," Finn gasped.

"Okay," she said. "You've got me there. But I do feel very guilty."

"Good." He glanced at her through half-lidded eyes.

"I'll make it up to you at dinner. You will be able to walk by then, won't you?"

"I think I'll be able to manage," Finn answered.

Taylor sighed and rubbed a thumb over the back of his hand. "I'm just glad I was pulling my punches."

"Pulling your--? I fear the kind of damage you could do, woman! You are a menace!"

Taylor laughed and kissed his cheek. "I really am sorry, Trist."

He smiled at her. "I know, Tay," he answered.

The moment seemed to stretch on as they sat, gazing. Suddenly, the lighting dimmed and Finn looked up. "Damn," he said. "Yellow alert. Looks like the captain managed to find us some fun."

"I guess we'd better get moving," Taylor said. She offered him a hand, which he took. As she was helping him to his feet, the lighting dimmed further and was replaced by a dull red illumination. "We'd better get moving really quick."

Finn winced as she helped steady him on his feet. "I'll manage," he gasped, pain clear on his face. "Come on."

She quickly hugged him and planted a kiss on his lips. At his questioning look, she grinned. "For luck," she said.

He grinned back at her. "For luck," he echoed.

Hand in hand, they left the Holodeck, hugged, and then separated to head for their duty stations. Taylor glanced back before Finn disappeared around the corner and grinned. She'd make it up to him later, after whatever the current crisis happened to be. She just hoped she could get changed into a uniform before whatever their current predicament was got too far out of hand.

Tristan Percival Finn found that once he'd started walking the pain didn't seem so bad. He just hoped he could find an ice pack when he got to his alert station.

"Hoo-ha," he muttered as he slipped into the turbolift.

---

"Below the Bridge"
by Chief Petty Officer Sorien Case - Weapons Specialist
Petty Officer 3rd Class Mitchell Mullens - Weapons Specialist [NPC]
Petty Officer 3rd Class Fiona Sullivan - Weapons Specialist [NPC]
Petty Officer 3rd Class Mark Rinaro - Weapons Specialist [NPC]
and Crewman 1st Class Ken Smith - Security Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Armory
Stardate: 57910.17, 13h48

***

Mitchell Mullens leaned over the main console in the Armory, his excitement a palatable thing at odds with the calm yellow blinking of the alert. He did his best to imitate Chief Case who manned the console beside him but felt like a failure every time he noticed that his hands were shaking.

"Relax, Mitch," Case said, noticing it too with his single eye. "You've hiked this trail before."

Mullens swallowed and nodded. "Automated diagnostics report tactical systems at full readiness," he said, taking care to enunciate each word clearly.

"Phaser banks and torpedo tubes are on standby," Case said in a similar, but calmer tone of voice. Keeping his anger in check was actually a larger chore for the Chief: He watched the Dominion ship getting battered by the Seeblin with about as much feeling as seeing a predator insect getting tortured by a group of smaller insects. To Case's mind, if the Seeblin hated the Dominion then what was a little cannibalism between friends? If it had been his call, the Sulu would pass out banners for the nasty little buggers and sit back to enjoy the show.

"Torpedo Two reports photon torpedo won't energize," Mullens said, his voice rising high. "Repeat. Torpedo Two --"

"I heard you," Case said, outwardly sedate but raging inwardly. He worked the console expertly. "Replace ordinance with next in succession, coordinate with engineering, and initiate new diagnostic."

"Aye, Chief," Mullens said, beginning to do just that.

Sullivan rushed through the parted double doors. She had dressed hurriedly and both her uniform and hair showed it but a yellow alert called for Beta shift personnel to report ready for duty. She had made it with minutes to spare but Case was already motioning for her to turn around the way she came.

"Oversee the arming of the security officers at weapons locker one," Case told her. "I'll get you some help."

"Aye, Chief," she said, backing out between the doors. Case hit the comlink on the console.

"Crewman Smith," he said, his voice becoming instantly terse and authoritative. For what it was worth, Smith was still technically his until Commander T'Kal decided otherwise.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Go to the security office and assist Petty Officer Sullivan," he said flatly. "When you've both finished there, report to the Armory."

"Aye Aye, Chief."

Case jabbed his finger down to close the channel but kept it hovering there. He watched the damaged Dominion ship on his screen getting larger and larger, trying to guess where Captain Salinger would take this and knowing where it had to go. That knowledge left a bad taste and it showed on his face when he jammed his finger down on the comlink again.

"Chief Case to Petty Officer Rinaro."

"Rinaro here, Chief."

"This is going to go to Red Alert," Case said, still watching the ship on the screen with a dark eye. "Be ready to report."

"I've already got my boots on, Chief," Rinaro said with a young man's enthusiasm for danger.

"Make sure you put on your uniform too," Case said, smiling small and closing the channel.

"I don't think you could keep Mark out of here on a bet, Chief," Mullens offered with a grin of his own. "He's been itching for something like this since his promotion." Mullens noticed a scroll across his viewscreen. "Torpedo Two reports ordinance is energized."

"Acknowledged," Case said, the small smile completely gone from his lips. There was no avoiding it. "There's something I should tell you," he said. "And this seems as bad a time as any."

Mullens swallowed hard, expecting the worst. "What, Chief?"

"You're going to secondary on the Tac Team," Case said, sending the weapons systems status up to the Bridge. "Rinaro is primary now."

Mullens' eyes steeled like a man with something to say but he soon thought better of it. "I'm sorry," was all he managed, looking back to his console and keeping his voice low.

"Don't be sorry, Mitch." Case didn't look up from his own viewscreen. "Just be better."

Before Mullens could say another word the red alert officially sounded, marking the Sulu's intent to help the ship in distress. A Dominion ship. Case let the momentary urge to bring both fists down on the console pass before he looked at Mullens and attempted a grim smile.

"Now would be a good time to start."

---

"Entirely Too Early"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Crewman Second Class Jennifer Hamilton; Operations Crewman

Location: USS Sulu: The Swamp, Corridor
Stardate: 57910.17 13h49

***

Mason's eyes flicked open, and he glanced at his chrono. 1347. He hated that. The alarm was set for 1400, which would have given him two hours to get ready for his duty day at a leisurely pace. And his body had decided to wake him up ten minutes early. He hated that. He groaned, rolled over, and dreamily pondered trying to catch another nine or ten minutes of sleep before the alarm sounded its usual mariachi trumpets.

The yellow alert klaxon brought him bolt upright in bed. He tangled in the blanket and flopped onto the decking before staggering upright and groping for yesterday's uniform, lying discarded atop a chair.

He careened into the corridor, his jacket open, and plowed right into Crewman Hamilton, both people going down in a tangled heap.

"Get off me!" Hamilton shouted, punching Farrell hard in the shoulder as he rolled off. "Sir?" she gasped. "I'm so sorry," she finished, as they helped each other up.

"Later. Stations," Farrell muttered, struggling with the bottom of his jacket's zipper as they loped toward the turbolift.

"Anybody know what's going on?" Hamilton asked as they entered the lift. The shaking heads and shrugging shoulders told the tale.

Farrell sighed as he tried to finger-comb his hair into something vaguely presentable. "Too early."

Hamilton winced. "And your breath is unreal," she quipped as the pulsing yellow lights on the lift turned red and a fresh klaxon blared into the confines of the tiny car.

"Entirely too early," Farrell repeated.

---

"Time to Knuckle Down and Fight"
By: Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
Ensign Byron Klipper, Engineering Officer
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering Crewchief

Location:  USS Sulu, Main Engineering
Stardate:  57910.17,  13h49

***

Caly was standing behind and just to the side of Byron, watching as he expertly ran through the simulation she set up for him, hiccups and kinky twists included.  He was getting used to her brand of teaching and he was re-honing his skills at an amazing rate.  She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, eyes on his console, feet planted firmly on the deck and a shoulder's width apart.

"The Lieutenant is going to be pleased with your progress, sir," she complimented him.

"I hope so, not only do I get the joy of having your tutelage I still have my EPS assignment." Finishing the last one of the Sims for the day Byron looked up. "Thank you, Booter, for the help, I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome, En--" she started, but her words were interrupted however when the alert was sounded.

A brief warning klaxon, yellow lights, and engineers running to get to their stations heralded its arrival. Thaine appeared from his office, shouting a couple of orders where needed, but for the most part studying the main engineering display console, and letting the department do what it had learnt to do all too well in the last few missions: cope.

After a breath of a hesitation at the unexpectedness of the Alert, the training and drills that the Engineering Chief had run his crew through since the chaos of JJ324c kicked into gear and Engineering turned into a well oiled machine.  Caly laid a hand on Byron's shoulder, waiting for a moment before speaking.

"Computer, end simulation Booter Sensor Array Alpha-nine.  Mister Klipper, you have the EPS monitoring station." She squeezed his shoulder a bit. "Ready to get your feet wet, sir?" she asked.  Around them, people moved to their assigned stations and status reports began filtering in to the main console for Thaine to have at his fingertips.

"Always ready." Byron let the standard boot camp reply ease over his lips as he rose and moved toward the EPS monitoring station. He took his station and began scanning the continually running grid health program.

"Klipper," Thaine called out to Byron. "The moment anything happens to the grid, let me know."

"Aye Aye, Sir."

Caly moved to weapons monitoring station and settled in, eyes scanning the console before her.  "Sir, the Armory reports the photon torpedo in tube Two is not energizing," she called out in a deadly calm voice as she coordinated with Mullens.  "They're loading in a new one."  The information was reflected on Thaine's console even as the chief spoke.

The ship turned then, and the forward sensors were unmasked.  Damage Control was already getting into position, ready at a moment's notice. The yellow lights became a more foreboding red; a change that wasn't lost upon the already nervous men and women, waiting at their stations.

Someone muttered, "He's taking us in," with suppressed excitement.

"Sir, I am seeing some power spikes in the EPS grid, I am re-routing non-essential power consumption through trunks 5 and 6, the others I am setting aside for essential power. I am shutting down the holodecks totally." Byron's hands were slick with sweat.  This was the first time he was going to be in combat as a participant aboard a Federation ship since the Maryland went down. His heart pounded and his forehead was slick with sweat. He knew somewhere out there a little Dominion ship was getting the aid of his ship. Did anyone else feel anger like he did about that, he wondered.

Caly's thoughts were turning what she was seeing on her display into a graphic visual representation in her head, much like she would see it if she were right there.  Her mind made little movies in her head of whatever she was dealing with at the time.  That they were aiding a Dominion ship at that moment and firing on the Seeblin only entered her awareness as a fleeting thought.  Her fingers moved over the controls at her station, as much by feel as anything else as she made minute adjustments to keep the systems she was monitoring at their peak operation for the people calling upon them.

"Shields down 12%, sir," one of the engineers called out to Thaine, which was just a verbal validation of what he was seeing on the main engineering display console in front of him.

"Make sure they don't lose their integrity, Booter." Thaine was already scanning the status of them, looking for any signs of anything to worry about in the shield generators. So far, they were looking good. An automated status report filtered down from the bridge, and Thaine also brought up the sensor readings. More than one of the Seeblin ships were out of the fight, though the Dominion vessel was faring badly. Thaine doubted it would survive, and then found he didn't care. Another, smaller part recoiled in horror at that realization.

"On it, boss," Caly called out and turned a major chunk of her focus to shield integrity at his command.  Her eyes scanned the readouts and her fingers moved over the console.  "Integrity's stable for the moment, sir, and I'm not picking up any damage," she reported and cast a critical eye over the heat sensors of the Phasers.

A few more scattered reports were shouted over, letting Thaine push his feelings aside and focus on his job. "There are fluctuations in the core field...reduce the reaction speed by five percent, let her settle down for a few seconds." Thaine doubted there would be more power drawn than they could supply, even with a five percent reduction. If there was, EPS reserves would cover it until they increased the reaction speed again.

"Sounds like it's working, sir," Caly observed after a few moments when she felt and heard the fluctuations easing.

Thaine nodded curtly in silent agreement.

A mixture of sweat and fear and several different types of interstellar pheromones made the tension that hung in Engineering thick enough that you could taste it. A sort of psychic wave length that when in danger, instantly runs through sentient races.  A genetic bid for survival left over from their individual evolutions which caused them to either flee in blind panic or knuckle down and fight.  

Byron's inner primate screamed at him to flee his station and find the nearest escape pod; so far he had beaten that primal voice into submission through sheer force of will.

Mark Thaine could feel the burden of responsibility solidly squaring down on him. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and glanced around him, looking at the other engineers, each one struggling with their own inner fears. Here, once again the lives of those men and women serving under him, and indirectly the lives of all the ship, rested upon how well he and the rest of his department did their jobs.

Caly knew that if she picked up a plasma arc she could have cut the tension in the room into blocks and package it in cargo containers. Her heartbeat was steady like some ancient drum and the hairs on the back of her neck stood lightly at attention, keeping her reactions kicked into automatic high gear. Watching her commanding officer eased some of her concern for the crew -  he was the rock that any officer worth their salt could become in a time of crisis. She also sighted a very pale Byron Klipper manning his station with the zeal of a man using his post to ignore a tidal wave of personal terror.

The explosive wave from the Dominion ship slammed into the Sulu hard enough to send the ship nearly toppling over and people either careening out of their seats and flying headlong into bulkheads, consoles, or neighboring crewmembers...or hanging onto their stations for dear life with whitened knuckles and grips of steel.

Main Engineering was plunged into darkness as all systems went offline. The silence was cut by an unknown crewman and his near hysterical laughter inducing comment: "Ahhh Shi--"

---

"Combat? What's that? Part 1"
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: Sensor Core, Deck 2, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17 13h50

***

Spitting out the water from his mouth, Vincent looked at the alarm klaxon with disgust. He had just woken up, and had been brushing his teeth when the alarm had disturbed. After a long stint on the bridge last night, Vincent's only concern was sleep and relaxation. And possibly Emma.

Toweling the remnants of water off his face, he zipped up his uniform top and left his quarters. His uniform was in disarray, but at least he had it on. He didn't want to give Lieutenant Tagliesh something else to hold over him. He got the impression that she didn't like him. Then again she didn't like anyone on board.

Rotating his shoulder, he tried desperately to loosen his shoulder. It had been awhile since he had seen Raina in Sickbay about his collar, but it appeared that he had re-injured it somehow. He had always had recurring and niggling injuries plague him. He wasn't of course, too eager to see the Medical Officer again though. From a childhood experience, he always feared returning to the doctor's after re-injuring himself.

He could remember vividly his childhood doctor, Dr. MacTavish. Vincent had cut open his knee after falling from some height - after he had seen the Doctor for a similar injury, gained in the same fashion.

"Little scratch like that," marveled MacTavish. "What's all the fussing about?" and he probed deeper, more determinedly. "I told you to take care of that knee didn't I? I told you not to go jumping around now, didn't I?"

Vincent had gasped as the doctor did something else to his knee. Vincent distinctly remembered having a strong urge to grab the probe and push it up the most convenient opening of the Doc's body. Instead he had moaned. "Come on, Doc. Didn't they teach you about morphine and stuff back in the time you should have failed your degree?"

MacTavish had then come around to look in Vincent's face. He was plump and scarlet-faced, fiftyish and graying in hair and moustache. His breath alone should have anaesthetized Vincent. "You were the one that re-injured it not me. Not my fault is it? Jeez! The dumb things kids do." The doctor drove the probe in further.

Vincent shuddered as he drove the memory out of his head. That had been about a decade ago but he could clearly remember it. It was no wonder he feared the sickbay.

While his mind was wandering his feet had dragged him to his battle station in sensors room. The room had been filled with nosy Science personnel all looking for some information on the proto-star. He got the feeling that the Tactical and Engineering personnel cringed as the saw another person in Science uniform enter.

He tried to give them a smile, but it came out as more of an idiotic grin. Vincent quickly desisted. He glanced over the data in front of him. Seeblin ships attacking a Dominion craft. Captain Salinger had just ordered the Sulu to enter the fight. Vincent had never been in a real Starship battle before. He really had no idea what to do. His job was to feed the sensor readings to the bridge but he really didn't know how that would help.

---

"Engage"
by Captain Matthew T. Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lt. Commander Sam
Lt. jg Giles McKenzie

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 13h53

***

The Sulu emerged from her hiding place, vectoring toward the approaching ships and quickly altering her speed to match. Neither Seeblin nor Dominion ships were aware of her yet, and surprise still rested in her favour.

"Target lead ships and disable them," Matt called out, leaning forward in his seat.

"Captain," Lyrr whispered. Her expression conveyed clear disapproval. "This isn't our fight. For all we know this could be a trap laid by the Seeblin. They know we wouldn't simply sit by and watch them destroy that vessel, and once we're out in the open, they'll attack. And even if it isn't," she stressed, "we are in no way obligated to rescue a Jem'Hadar ship from eminent destruction."

"The Dominion ship is broadcasting for help," Matt answered in a whisper just as quiet as Lyrr's. "I cannot sit by and watch a ship be destroyed, when I could have had some part in stopping it. The Dominion is no longer our enemy. We signed a peace accord with them, and to me that means if they need help, we help them. It'll help smooth any diplomatic snags still pending on their side, and perhaps through this act they may become an ally. If it's a Seeblin trap, it's a very good one. If not, then we could be helping to further improve relations with a former enemy."

Lyrr stifled further protests when faced with Matt's resolved stare. There was no time for arguments when they were on the verge of entering the fray. She sighed and shifted towards the view screen once more.

Matt watched her for a moment, then turned back toward the forward viewer.

The Sulu leapt forward, into phaser range. Matt glanced to tactical and nodded. "Let's do it."

Forward phaser banks opened up, harrying the two lead Seeblin ships. The Sulu's weapons were more than the smaller ships could take, and their shields failed with a flash of reddish white. A final shot at each sent a long streamer of venting plasma trailing behind, and both Seeblin ships spun out and away out of the battle, their threat diminished. The Sulu swept past, reacquiring new targets as she flashed past.

As the new threat suddenly entered into the battle, the Seeblin ships broke and scattered. Rolling away in pairs, they quickly adjusted to the presence of the Sulu. The Dominion ship fired a last volley at one of the Seeblin ships as it peeled away to face the Sulu. The Seeblin vanished in a bright explosion that rocked the Dominion ship. The Dominion vessel listed and tumbled in space, seemingly helpless. The distress call still sounded over the Sulu's comm systems, though muted now with the battle raging.

The Sulu fired on another pair of Seeblin ships, crippling one with a shot to the port nacelle, shearing the drive unit from the body of the small vessel. As it spun out of control and toward the protostar, a trail of plasma marked its doom. The other Seeblin ship veered in, away from the blazing phaser banks, and fired off a volley of its own weapons. The less-powerful plasma bursts peppered the Sulu's port shields.

On the bridge, the crew shuddered with the impact, but all managed to remain at their posts. "Shields down twelve percent," T'Kal announced. "No damage."

With five Seeblin ships still left in the fight, the Sulu was still in a tight spot with their attentions now shifting from the Dominion ship. Coordinating their efforts, the Seeblin began to show why they were a threat despite their small size and less-advanced technology. Two looped above and two below, while the lone ship angled around to target the same shield it had just damaged.

The upper ships sprayed volley after volley across the Sulu's dorsal surfaces, flashes of blue showing where the plasma bursts impacted against the shields. The two below skimmed across the ventral axis, aiming for the saucer section. With the Dominion ship still close by, they chanced a shot, and launched a volley in its direction. The Dominion ship rocked under the impact, atmosphere boiling free from a rupture in the hull. With the smaller ship beginning its death throes, they turned their full attention back to the bigger Sulu.

"On my mark," Salinger called, "prepare to drop shields and beam the survivors of the Dominion ship aboard."

"Aye, Captain," Sam responded. "Sir, I am detecting an unusual amount of ionic radiation from the Dominion ship. Attempting to analyze the signature now."

Matt nodded as the Sulu worked to get closer to the Dominion ship.

Another series of phaser shots sent the lone Seeblin ship spinning away, its warp nacelles dark.

The remaining four Seeblin ships had regrouped, and were angling in as a quad. The crew of the Sulu had found this to be one of the more deadly attack configurations the Seeblin ships used. The concentrated power of their attacks would give even a Sovereign-class ship pause.

"Captain, I am detecting another surge of power from the--"

Before the android could finish, the Dominion attack ship turned into a blue-white sphere of expanding gaseous energy. The explosion ripped out through space, vapourizing one of the Seeblin ships and sending the other three away erratically. The wave of energy slammed into the Sulu and seemed to flip the Intrepid-class starship onto its back.

Throughout the ship, crew hung on for dear life as the decks seemed to lurch right out from beneath them. At the back of the bridge, an overloaded EPS relay exploded as the inertial dampeners attempted to compensate for the pitching and yawing.

From the front of the bridge, Giles McKenzie climbed back and staggered toward the conn as the ship slowly managed to right itself. One arm hung limp at his side and a bright gash scored his forehead. He dropped into his chair and attempted to discern their condition.

"Helm non-responsive," he called.

"Captain," Sam said as he righted himself at the Ops station, "all systems offline. Emergency back-ups are engaging now." He tapped a few keys into his station as it winked back to life, and began a quick diagnostic. "Sensors are offline. Tactical systems are offline. Warp containment field reads steady, but engineering crews are monitoring it. Warp and impulse drives are currently unavailable. Sir, we are--"

"Dead in space," Matt said with a wince as he climbed back into his chair. "I want a full damage assessment. And, get me a status report of the Dominion and Seeblin ships."

"The warp core of the Dominion vessel breached, Captain," Sam answered. "It was the energy build-up I detected before the explosion."

Matt nodded gravely, and glanced to Lyrr.

"Tactical, Mr. T'Kal?"

"Phaser and torpedoes are offline, Captain," T'Kal answered. "Shield power has been restored...at fifty-four percent."

"It'll do for now," Matt said. He looked around the bridge, darkened in a reddish glow from the red alert lights. The klaxon was blaring again and Salinger frowned. "Maintain red alert but shut off that noise. I want a full damage assessment, systems and crew. I want spotters available to watch out for returning Seeblin ships. Make sensors a priority on repair lists, and then tactical systems. If they return before then, we'll shove torpedoes out the tubes if we have to. The Seeblin were likely hit as hard as we were. If we're in a similar predicament, it's going to come down to who has the fastest repair crews. Let's get to work people."

---

"Patient Priority"
By: Ensign Amy Reese
Ensign Cristobel Sefton
and Dr. Damhnait Sefton

Location: Main Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 13h53

***

All heads in sickbay jerked up at the all too familiar whine of red alert klaxons blaring, and reflexively cringed at the ominous ruddy lights bleeding from the panels lining every bulkhead like open sores. Amy Reese was frozen momentarily in despair - she hoped this wasn't a repeat of their many encounters over the past months, but her fear vanished momentarily. They'd been through much in their time exploring the Gamma Quadrant, and in each instance, they'd come through victoriously. There was a confidence they would once more.

Kicking into action as Head Nurse, a position she was surprisingly taking seriously, Amy whirled around to begin giving orders. To her delight, her team was already taking up position and preparing for possible disaster. She grinned broadly.

At Cris' entrance, Amy gasped and scurried over to him. "What have you heard?" she asked, skipping alongside to keep up with his long strides.

"We're at red alert," Cris reported facetiously, but entirely in good-humour. "There's a swarm of Seeblin vessels bitchslapping a Jem'Hadar attack ship. We're heading in to provide aid. ...To the Jem'Hadar." His tone would have been more ominous had he been anything more than a civilian passenger aboard a Starfleet hospital ship during the Dominion War. His voice became a touch more gravely, as he realised, "Do you think we'll provide medical aid? I don't think I learned Jem'Hadar anatomy."

Amy's eyes bulged. "W-Wait!" she stammered, hopping in front of Cris to halt him. "The captain would never beam Jem'Hadar onto this ship...would he? I mean...they're dangerous and...and scary looking."

"I didn't make myself privy to the Captain's thoughts or plans." Cristobel used the long way of saying 'I don't know'.

"The Jem'Hadar have no infirmary. If they request medical attention, we will not hesitate to provide it, whether they come to us or we go to them," Damhnait Sefton asserted, coming up behind Amy, since she was the one who most needed Cris' report. "From the Jem'Hadar's perspective," Damhnait told Amy, "you would be considered too frail and sickly to be of any help to them. You too," she nodded towards Cris.

Amy frowned. "Then what do we do? And...and what if some of our own are injured. Who gets priority?"

"Amy, I don't have time right now to teach my head nurse the basics of triage," Damhnait told her, growing more incredulous with each word. "Your safest bet is to give priority to those who will die without treatment. Any who will live without treatment, or will die despite treatment, can wait." And since this conversation was a low priority on Damhnait's list, she went to Raina to oversee the dispersal of those Security officers who had shown the most promise in their first aid ability.

Amy gulped back a high-pitched sob and blinked away the tears provoked by Damhnait's chastisement. Noting Cris' raised eyebrow, an expression she took as portraying amusement, Amy snapped, "Get to your position, Nurse!" But the command's effect was diminished by her quivering voice and trembling lower lip. With a whimper, she sulked, "I hate being Head Nurse."

Cris couldn't hide the furrowed scowl that came to his face at Amy's abrupt attempt to be militaristically authoritative, and just as he thought he was about to march away, her whimper elicited a solacing, "At least it's only for four more days."

"If we don't all get killed by Jem'Hadar," she pouted. "But...you'll help me, won't you, Crissy?" She smiled hopefully, both that he would accept her request, and that he wouldn't rebuke her for the pet-name.

"What do you need me to do?" Cris asked -- to start helping immediately -- and offered a quick smile after his words.

She giggled and latched her hands onto his arm to yank him into motion. "We need to make sure everyone knows their jobs...and," she added, leaning in to whisper, "you can help deflect some of your mother's venom."

Casting both eyes out on Sickbay -- finding med techs, nurses, equipment, medication, gurneys, and doctors all roughly in place -- Cristobel dryly replied, "Won't work. She has enough venom for everybody when the red lights are flaring."

"But it seems she's always harder on me," Amy told him. Grinning brightly, she enthused, "Is it because she likes me most and wants me to do my very best?"

As Sefton claimed a medical tricorder from a storage cabinet and ran a quick self-diagnostic on it, he slowly answered in such a way that he was clearly remembering the words without exactly knowing what they meant. "It's because you infuriate her when you remind her of your mother."

That halted Amy, and the frown she wore indicated far more disapproval than dejection. "What do you mean?" she asked harshly. "When did she say that?"

"I don't know," was all Cris could defensively offer. Looking up from his tricorder, he recalled, "She muttered it. Once. Maybe...a month ago? She didn't explain it."

"I knew it," she whispered, more to herself than Cris. "I knew there was a catch. She made me head nurse so I would fail and give her reason enough to punish me at every opportunity and maybe even have me booted off this ship." She chuckled wryly. "She hates me. I knew it!"

"Amy," Cristobel stated, his tone pleading that she listen to him. "If I, her telepathic son, only heard of it once, then it isn't an overriding concern to her. Now, as 'assistant' head nurse, I am ordering you to put this angst bubble aside. I shouldn't have said anything. You need to prepare yourself for incoming patients," --his words became an insistent whisper-- "because if you don't, she will have you restricted to your quarters for the remainder of the red alert."

Amy sighed, and with suspicion and anger deflating, she sullenly retrieved her own tricorder from the cabinet. "You're right," she muttered. "It's just...I really thought she liked me." Shrugging pensively, Amy snapped closed her instrument following a quick inspection. "Let's get to work, then. I wouldn't want to give mother dearest any more reasons to find fault with me." And with a brief, smirking grin, Amy stalked away haughtily.

---

"How Do You Spell Relief?"
By: Lt. Brennyn Scott, RN

Location: Main Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 13h53

***

It felt like a vacation, and despite how pathetic that seemed, she realized it didn't change how she felt. In many ways, each day for Bree Scott was very much like the one before it. Men and women came to her to discuss their problems and she would do her best to help them. Scott measured success in smiles and relaxed shoulders, not in places visited or in efficiency ratings as some might. In fact, were it not for the occasional trip to the bridge or major emergency, Scott realized with a grin, she might have forgotten they were on a starship at all.

The time in between missions, what was most often anticipated down-time, was one of the busiest times for counselors because it was the time when the crew could (whether voluntarily or forced) make sense of the challenges they'd encountered. Most of the time, time spent on the bridge was a nice and quiet routine, a break from counseling sessions. It was a time to observe how the crew really interacted without feeling like an intruder.

Now, however, she couldn't help but feel like the Sulu was the true predator, watching dispassionately as the lone Dominion ship continued to be pursued by the Seeblin. It was truly a strange feeling for Bree. Certainly there was no love lost between the Starfleet Officers and the Dominion, and that was especially true for Bree, but another part of her, the part of her that valued life, found the prospect of letting them die, well...evil.

Matt Salinger seemed to be debating his options as well. "Sound Red Alert," he called. "Prepare to move to defend the Dominion ship. Phasers only, shoot to disable. Take us in, Lieutenant."

Bree shuddered inwardly as she let go of a sigh of relief.

---

"K.O."
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security
Ensign Cristobel Sefton, Medical
Doctor Damhnait Sefton, Medical

Location: Computer Core, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 13h53

***

Things were quiet in the core, as they oftentimes were. Shirik had several diagnostic and maintenance programs running on the systems, and was doing a manual check on one of the computer subsystems. She had a panel off the subsystem in question, and was taking readings on a tricorder. Behind her at the other end of the room, on her console, one of the screens held the images from the main bridge viewscreen, which she had patched into to watch the protostar in between tasks.

Sorg Jurell was watching the LCARS, staring at the Proto-star and smiling to himself. He was humming a tune that one of the singers in the holodeck had sung, but he couldn't remember any of the words or what it was called, and he was humming the same five bars repetitively because that was all he could remember. Not that it mattered, he was thinking about something else entirely. He yawned, and put his hand to his mouth and leaned back on the console at watch, his eyes not taking it in at all. He'd been up half the night talking.

Shirik had noticed his mood, it had been hard to miss with him yawning and humming and generally looking happy all day. She hadn't asked, she had a fair idea of what had caused it, and while she was happy for both her friends, it only underscored her own unhappiness. She focused herself, as always, on her work and ignored any thoughts of anything else. She muttered under her breath some figures as she decided the subsystem would need a minor adjustment.

"Looks like we have some company.," Jurell frowned at the screen as its magnification jumped up to show a spec of reflected starlight. He tapped at the LCARS and its configuration changed to a tactical interface. The Sulu's sensors were locked on a Dominion Attack ship. It was being strafed by Seeblin. Jurell looked up expectantly and sure enough the Yellow Alert sounded. "I'd get out of that panel if I were you, Shiri, we have inbound hostiles." His voice had taken on a sharp quality, all levity evaporating with the ships on the LCARS.

"Company?" She turned her head to quirk an eyebrow at him and saw ships on the screen. "Oh, great...we just got the ship all back to normal, too." She hurried to get the panel back into place and moved back to her console where she could monitor systems and reroute anything that might go down during a fight. Glancing at the ships on the display she frowned. "Well, maybe they'll just destroy each other and we won't have to get involved..."

The Red Alert Klaxon sounded. "Nope, they're sending a distress signal," Jurell frowned. The screen jumped again to show a larger swarm of Seeblin ships, eight of them in attack formations ripping into the Dominion attack craft. Tactical analysis was already showing grave damage to the Jem'Hadar vessel. Sorg Jurell grinned wolfishly and muttered an encouragement to the Seeblin. The Sulu started in to help, and the security officer watched the tactical scenarios chosen by the Tactical Officer on the Bridge narrow down to options involving phaser fire only, selective attacks on called-shot locations...energy, weapons, propulsion. T'Kal was going for crippling shots rather than kills.

"We're going in," he said to Shirik as she finally got the cover back on the console she was working on.

"Who cares? Why should we help them?" she frowned, returning to her console and peering over Jurell's shoulder for moment at the screen before tapping in commands. She shut down the maintenance programs that were running and set up some continuous diagnostic programs to help with the monitoring.

"Because they aren't our enemy anymore, and they are asking for help," Jurell said coldly. "Though Salinger certainly waited until it's almost too late. I think it is too late, but at least we'll be able to say we tried...."

On the screen the Seeblin ships started taking fire from the Sulu's phaser banks. The ship shuddered under fire, but nothing that even forced them to grab a hold of the console rails.

They watched the fight with a morbid fascination, as Seeblin ships were cast aside by the more powerful short pulses of the Sulu's phasers.

The complete white-out of the view screen image occurred a split second before, "All hands brace for impact!" came across the intership systems. Sorg instinctively gripped the railing, his head whipped sideways to see Shirik likewise reaching for the rail.

The phrase 'brace for impact' was usually an understatement. It was often more like 'grab hold of something and hang on for dear life', and this time was no exception.

The slamming impact of the warp core breach came from below, straining the gravity field and the inertial dampeners. It was a bone crunching, muscle ripping jarring wave that bucked the ship with a mighty heave. Sorg's chest hit the console a moment before his face did. It stunned him enough that his hands let go and he went flying against the opposite wall as limp as a rag doll.

All lights went out, plunging the computer core into darkness.

"Ohhh, khresh!!" Shirik swore. She spared Sorg's crumpled form only enough of a glance to see with her heat vision that he was still alive, and sprang to the consoles, looking for any signs of power in anything. As she started manually re-routing what she could to get some power back into the core, she slapped at her commbadge. "Lektar to sickbay! I have an injured crewman in the core. He's unconscious, injuries unknown at this time. Please send assistance."

A stream of muttered Drokari obscenities escaped her lips as she was forced to work on the ship's systems first and leave Sorg where he lay. With no idea what was happening outside or on the bridge, and no power, her injured friend was secondary in priority to making sure the ship survived whatever was going on.

Sorg lay still. Blood flowed from his nose and mouth and his breathing was labored from the three broken ribs. He lay on his front, splayed out where he'd fallen, blood splattered the wall from his second impact.

Shirik scowled in the dark, everything dead. Then after a moment, the consoles flickered back to life, and she released a sigh of relief. Her fingers flew over the controls, running systems checks. As the emergency lights finally came up, she determined that all the computer systems were up and functional, and then finally left her station to kneel beside Sorg's crumpled form.

She checked to make sure he was still breathing and had a pulse, and tried to take stock of his injuries. "Jurell... can you hear me?" She slapped at her commbadge again. "Lektar to sickbay! I need medical assistance down here, is someone on their way?"

"Affirmative," a female voice responded over the comm.

"Well, hurry!" she said, her voice clearly worried. He was a lot more injured than she'd at first thought. Gods there was a lot of blood... It was red, bright red. For a moment she just stared and swallowed. Do something, her mind told her. Do something. But what? She nodded to herself, and leaped to her feet. There was an emergency medkit around here somewhere, and she scrambled to retrieve it.

Dropping to her knees once more, she snatched out the medical tricorder and ran it over him. "Oh, khresh...." Broken ribs, broken nose, fractured cheekbone, broken jaw, ruptured kidney, internal bleeding... Her face blanched. She reached out to gently turn his head, to let the blood from his broken nose drain onto the floor rather than into his lungs. He didn't have time to wait for a medic, she decided. She slapped her commbadge again. "Lektar to sickbay! I need an emergency beam-in to sickbay immediately! Crewman Sorg Jurell. Now!"

Sorg and Shirik had just finished dematerializing when Nurse Anders and Crewman LeClair rushed in with an antigrav gurney. "Anders to Sickbay," Skott shouted. "The computer core is empty!"

"We've got them."

***

Damhnait Sefton had snatched two nurses from relatively well patients by the time the surgical support frame on the main biobed rolled across Sorg Jurell's torso. She also directed Cris to guide Shirik out of the way, and to examine her on an empty biobed.

Shirik was led away in more or less a daze, her gaze staying on Jurell as they worked on him. She hadn't expected to be beamed away with him. "I'm fine..." she murmured at Cris. She had red blood smeared on her uniform, but was uninjured herself, although she was rather pale for her. She still had the medical tricorder clutched in one hand, with its previous readings of Sorg Jurell still on the display.

"Let's see if the instruments agree with you," Cristobel gently suggested, bringing up his own medical tricorder in his right hand to scan Shirik, but then placed it down on the biobed. Letting his left hand hang limp, he used his right hand to try to gently pull the smudged-with-blood tricorder from Shirik's hand.

She nodded, not really listening, and released the tricorder at Cris' urgings. She took her gaze away from what they were doing at the main biobed and finally focused on where she was. "I have to get back to the core... the battle..."

"The battle is over. We survived. Everyone," Cristobel assured her brightly, with only a little tentativeness. "There are some engineers here muttering about damage to the Sulu, but the computer is operational."

"I still have to go... I can't leave my post," she said. She turned her gaze to Cris. "I'm fine. Let me know if he wakes up before I get back, ok? I'll be back as soon as my shift is over. With Calyca."

Cristobel was about to protest, since Operations would have sent someone else to the computer core by now, but Shirik's vitals were normal, and she seemed to be very suddenly out of her state of shock. He nodded at her soberly, and looked across Sickbay to read the larger monitors on the wall behind Sorg's biobed. Cris looked back to Shirik to tell her, "He will be awake before your shift is over." There was no candy-coated sweetness to his assurance, this time.

She nodded. "Thanks, Cris." She smiled faintly, and with a last look in Sorg's direction, left sickbay. She really didn't want to leave, but she couldn't stay when it was her duty shift. She knew Sorg would understand.

---

"Like a Well-Oiled Machine"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Crewman Second Class Jennifer Hamilton; Operations Crewman

Location: USS Sulu: Operations Office
Stardate: 57910.17 13h55

***

They hit the Ops office at a run, and Farrell slid across the main desk into the chair while Hamilton took up station at the backup console. As the principals of Operations beta shift, they had the damage control dispatching responsibilities when in a crisis, freeing the bridge station for the monitoring of power consumption and routing.

"Checklist," Farrell called, and they commenced the systems rundown.

The first impact shudder made them look at each other.

"Oh yeah," Farrell nodded. "It's pucker time."

"All damage control teams report standing by," Hamilton said, forcing herself back to her screen. "I think that's their best time yet. Let's hear it for drills, eh?"

"Shields down twelve percent," Farrell said. The ship shuddered again. "We're doing alright, it looks like."

"No reports," Hamilton said, all her indicators green. "Maybe we're winning."

"Win or lose, all we can do now is grip tight, throw a fist in the air, and ride it out," Farrell grinned as the ship shuddered again.

"Oooh. Talk dirty to me," snarked Hamilton.

Both laughed, which turned into a bellow and a scream as the entire ship flung itself sideways and over. A panel popped, and the lights in the office went out.

Farrell picked himself up off the deck. Again. He was groping for his chair when the emergency lighting flickered on. Hamilton, face first and spread-eagled across the floor, moaned and touched her nose as she rose to a sitting position.

"Five by five?" Farrell asked, wincing and rolling his shoulder, which he'd landed on wrong.

Hamilton cradled her face. "I thig I brote my dose," she stuttered, her eyes clamped shut against the pain. Blood was leaking in a pair of red lines down her face and onto her uniform.

"I'll call medical. Sit tight," Farrell said, pressing the alert button on the console that would put them into the triage queue. He then turned to his console, and cursed softly before licking his lips and getting down to business.

"Damage control party alpha, deck two, lock down overloaded conduits at junction F-21," he intoned.

"DCP Alpha, complying," came the response.

"DCP Beta, deck two, respond to . . ." and Farrell lost himself in the list and the dispatching.

---

"Chronitons"
By: Lieutenant Saavar - Asst. Chief of Science
Lieutenant (jg) Natalia Druschev - Science Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Astrometrics
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h02

***

Natalia looked over at the Vulcan Science Officer who was sprawled on the decking after the monstrous lurching of the final explosion in the battle with the Seeblin ships. He was moving, beginning to sit up even as his grey eyes settled upon her. "Are you injured, Lieutenant?" he asked in his inflectionless speech.

She struggled to regain her feet and she was struck by an intense nausea. She staggered and gripped the Astrometrics console as her face drained of color and she clutched her stomach. It was a hard task to hold it down. Lunch was trying make a resurgence and she groaned. Her head suddenly throbbed as a headache set it.

Natalia shook her head. "I am a little shaken...but nothing is broken." She rested heavily against her station. "Are you hurt?" she asked, rubbing her temples with her fingers to ease the pain. "I don't think I hit anything but I have a headache and I want to vomit...and I feel dizzy." She looked up at the curved dome of the Astrometric sensor display. The holographic panels were blank. Nothing showed. Either the Astrometric systems were down or sensors were completely out. "We have to do a system check." The console went wildly out of focus for a moment and she had to fight the nausea. Vomiting all over her workstation was definitely unladylike.

"I am unhurt," Saavar said, pulling himself up to the console with the one arm. He looked at the dark consoles and didn't bother trying to elicit anything from them. "Sensors are not functioning," he said. "Whether that is a failure in power systems here, or damage to the arrays...we will not know until they are assessed."

Natalia sat heavily in the workstation's chair, breathing deeply and trying to regain her composure. "What happened?" She shook her head but the ache at her temples was intense. The console flickered back to life as systems came back on-line. A few seconds later the Astrometrics dome started to fill with blank cells, the external sensors were still off-line. Natalia's fingers danced across the interface and data scrolled down the screen. "There is nothing from external sensors...including the Class-4 probe we sent into the Proto-star. No signal at all."

"Access the sensor array logs," Saavar ordered crisply. "We will not be able to determine the cause of the problems until we can determine the events leading up to it."

Natalia's fingers were still punching the interface. She tapped a last sequence and the Astrometrics dome filled with moving stars. It was the lateral sensor array recordings at minus one minute to sensor shut-down. It showed the end of the battle from the perspective of the underside of the Sulu. The two science officers watched as the Dominion ship was strafed beneath the Sulu. They could see the damage tear the small ship apart and then the blue-white globe of expanding energy formed at the nucleus of the Dominion ship. The sensor log froze as the globe filled half of the star field in a fraction of a second.

Natalia's finger left the interface and she stared up at the image. "Well... that explains our sensor outage...but if that is the Dominion ship's warp core...we shouldn't be here at all..." Her voice was quiet and contemplative.

"Indeed," Saavar agreed. He examined the visual image intently.

Her face marred by a frown as her mind struggled with the image on the screen. She looked at Saavar. "I'll call up the Deflector control systems log...feed it through the Astrometrics stellar analysis program." Her own fingers were hitting interface keys and calling up data from the Physics database.

Saavar nodded. "That is logical." His mind was obviously pursuing the same vein of thought as Druschev's.

Natalia Druschev held a Masters Degree in Astrophysics, and the readings from the sensor logs didn't add up to her trained mind. A warp core breach at the distance from source should have wiped them out. The matter-antimatter explosion of a ship's core was one of the most powerful energy releases known. It basically used the matter of the entire ship combined with the antimatter in the core's containment fields to release an expanding energy wave front that was capable of total destruction for thousands of kilometers.

As the energy readings scrolled across the screen before her, the equations simply did not add up. A tremendous amount of energy released by a Dominion Attack ship's known parameters for a warp core had simply vanished - but that was impossible. Energy conservation was a universal principle. It couldn't vanish - therefore it had gone somewhere.

The algorithms in the various Astrophysics database were examining the data from the ship's sensors just prior to blackout. The Dominion ship's final cataclysmic end was captured by the Sulu's array of sensors and taken apart bit by bit.

"The phase transitions are all wrong..." Natalia muttered in Russian as she examined the data. She looked up at Saavar. "The photon and neutron phase transitions are one point seven three Kestrons out of phase, and I'm reading a surge in...chroniton particles..." She forwarded her readings to the Bridge station.

"Chroniton particles?" Saavar asked as he watched the replay again. The Dominion ship exploded in a brilliant display and they were caught in the explosion radius. "Chronitons are emitted as a result of several known phenomena. Sub-atomic particles that are linked to temporal events or inter-phase technology...."

"Nyet," Natalia shook her head at the mention of an inter-phase device. "An Inter-phase Generator requires an immense power drain...the attack ship is not large enough to carry such a device. The ship was almost crippled. It was the warp core. The energy signatures match, but the phase is wrong. Increased chroniton particles are associated with temporal anomaly, sub-spatial anomaly or altered phased states...we can discount a sub-spatial anomaly, there is nothing on the sensors to support it." She looked up at the Vulcan. "Nothing naturally evident in the neighbourhood at the time.."

"There was the sub-spatial event several hours ago," Saavar conjectured. "The vessel came from that same vector of space."

Natalia nodded. Her headache was a dull throbbing, but the nausea had abated significantly. "The energy released from the warp core breach was high in chroniton particles and was slightly out of phase with us."

Saavar frowned and his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his own station. The equations of math and physics relevant to the known quantum phenomena scrolled down his screen, the results puzzling. "Chroniton particles are not fully understood," he stated. "It is quite possible," he said, looking up at Natalia, "that the explosion may have resulted in a shift either temporally or phasic for the Sulu. Only further investigation will determine the cause and effect."

---

"Against The Clock"
by Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering Crewchief
Ensign Byron Klipper, Engineering Officer

Location: Main Engineering, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h05

***

For a moment after, there was silence.

Struggling to his feet, the Chief Engineer of the vessel took in the scene. The light from the warp core, still glowing faintly, illuminated Main Engineering in eerie colours, and in a light hardly fit to see by.

A few sparks exploded from a nearby console. Thaine shielded his eyes, and bent down to retrieve one of the emergency torches from beneath the main console, provided for just an occasion. There were more sounds of life as he turned it on; more people struggling to right themselves after such a heavy hit. Shining his torch toward the nearest sound, Thaine found the form of Calyca lit up in the beam of light as she groaned and struggled to sit up.

She looked alright, she just wasn't where she was suppose to be. She'd been tossed out of her station and into a nearby console. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light and laid back down on the deck while she caught her breath. "That is so going to bruise..." she coughed and rested a hand on her abdomen and hip, rubbing them lightly. The other hand went to her head and she rubbed that too. "Were we hit?" She rolled over onto her hands and knees and pushed herself up into a squatting position before standing a moment later, steadying herself on the console she'd been thrown into. She was a bit unsteady, but regaining her equilibrium by the moment.

"Someone get the emergency power online!" Thaine barked orders, as more lights appeared from others who had found torches.

"Is everyone alright?" Caly looked around and their status began to dawn on her. "Geezus, are we dead?" She was talking about the ship of course, and pushed off the console to move back to her station.

"I'm ok," Byron muttered, returning to his post. He could already feel the pain creeping it his noggin as a lump formed under his probing fingers.

A few of the consoles had power, and one of the quicker thinking engineers had started re-routing power using one of the few working consoles. It took more than a few minutes of struggling in the darkness, and occasionally re-wiring sections of the consoles manually, to bring Engineering back into a semblance of working order.

Thaine was by Caly's side as soon as the department had got into gear. "Shield status, Booter?" he asked, as his own eyes scanned the readings on the phaser arrays.

"Checking," she murmured and her fingers moved over the console in front of her even as Thaine made his request.

"Right. Whatever you do, keep them up." He looked away before she could respond, attention refocused elsewhere.

"Aye sir." She gave a slight nod and her fingers moving automatically. "Shields at fifty-four percent," she called out.

Slowly, over the next few minutes, the situation became clear. The primary forward phaser banks were offline - Thaine had dispatched a team to replace the ODN in that section. It was a slow job, and he'd been unable to report an accurate estimate to the bridge. Operations were helping to co-ordinate the return of sensors; the imaging arrays had fallen out of alignment, and it would take some time before long-range sensors could be restored, though short-range sensors were more likely to be brought online within a few minutes.

"Emergency Lighting up," one of the engineers announced even as the ship was bathed in light, albeit a meager one, and torches began winking out.

The worst was the state of the impulse engines - a deuterium fuel line had failed, and trying to engage impulse drive with the problem still present could have resulted in a potentially, and literally, explosive situation. One of the damage control teams had taken on the dangerous task of repairing the line.

"Mister Klipper, if there is any way you can find me a bit more power, I'd appreciate it," Caly called over to Byron. "Shields still holding at fifty-four percent."

"We always need more power, sometimes I can't take it," Byron muttered, searching for power. "Cal I am dropping internal lighting ten percent. Think that will help?"

"Aye sir... Every little bit helps. What about keeping all non-essential systems offline and steal from them too?" she asked.

The Chief Engineer, somehow managing to hold multiple conversations at once, interjected, "Shut all non-essentials down, if Ops hasn't done it already," he told Byron.

"Short range sensors restored!" someone called out, and Thaine quickly brought up the results of the scan on his console.

"Good gods.... Is there something out there?" Caly glanced over at the sensor readouts.

"What 'Thing'?" Byron asked.

"That big thing." Caly directed Byron's attention to the 'shadow' on the readouts that appeared to be getting closer. "Where's the Imaging arrays? Captain's gonna want to see."

As if one cue, Thaine's comm-badge chirped; the Captain himself on the other end of the communication. "Mr. Thaine, status of our engines?"

"Another two minutes at least," Thaine replied, in all honesty. "We're working as fast as we can, Captain."

"If you can get us power in less than two minutes," Matt said, "you'll be our Miracle Worker, Mr. Thaine. Give me what you've got as soon as you can. We've got a ship incoming."

"I'll see what I can do." The situation had just taken a turn for the worse, and Thaine found himself struggling to think of anything he could do to move the repairs along quicker. "Hansen, see if you can speed along the team managing impulse repairs. Klipper, charge up the IPS toroids; the moment we get the fusion drives online we need to be out of here."

"Imagers are online," Caly announced and then blinked as the Windsor came into view. "Ohhh... This is SOOO not good..." she commented to no one in particular.

As engineers scrambled to carry out orders, Mark could feel the clock ticking with every beat of his heart. As he glanced at the image on the viewscreen, a sense of foreboding swept over him, and he wondered if this time a miracle was just too much to ask for.

---

"Four Legged Patients"

Ensign Kremer - Medical Officer
Alexia Johnstone - Medical Officer
Lt. Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
Ensign Blake Corrigan - Security Officer [NPC]
Crewman Jean-Paul Saveaux [NPC]

Location: Cargo Bay 6, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17 14h05

***

Kremer moved quickly as he assisted in setting up the Triage in the available space inside Cargo Bay 6. Ensign Corrigan and Crewman Saveaux worked towards keeping the order in the area, if need be. Everything had happened so quickly; the sudden appearance of both the Seeblin and Dominion, as a precautionary measure Ensign Kremer along with Ensign Johnstone were sent down to one of the cargo bays to begin setting up a Triage Centre. The Cait moved about quickly as he continued with setting up the last of the makeshift bedspaces; nearby Ensign Johnstone worked towards getting the medical equipment out and ready for use.

Alexia efficiently set out the medical packs at each side of the pallet spaces. She had no idea how many would be needed, or who they would be treating, but she wanted to be prepared for anything. She was quite scared, but also excited - she had never actually attended a real emergency triage situation, but had been more than prepared for it by her time in Starfleet medical. Alexia had been in the sickbay when the red alert sounded, and the orders had been given, and had moved quickly to her post with Kremer.

Having set up the beds, Kremer moved over to Alexia. "I got the beds up, though my head is still somewhat swimming about after we got the rug pulled right around from under our feet. How are you feeling?" he asked, looking to the young Terran.

"Well," said Alexia, "I'm a little nervous, but I'm excited too! Have you ever been in this situation before?" She cast her eyes around the cargo bay, looking at what had already been achieved. "I think we've nearly got everything organised, and we've done it in record time! I'm pleased with how well we've worked together so far - I think we'll make a good team here." She smiled at Kremer. "I wonder how long we'll be waiting here before something happens?"

"I have, among other situations as well." He shrugged his shoulders at her question. "If you mean how long the ship is going to be sitting here floating aimlessly in space I don't know...we took a pretty hard hit during the fight I'm surprised no patients have--"

The Caitian stopped speaking as Lt. Nathalie Gui came inside Cargo Bay 6, the red alert emergency lights casting an eerie red glow on her form. In her arms was Joji, her right front leg twisted at an odd angle. She stepped inside moving over to Kremer and Ensign Johnstone quickly.

"Lt. I'm a Doctor, not a veterinarian," Kremer remarked dryly as Gui held out her injured Corgi to Kremer.

"It's not just her that's injured, some of the other crew members with me are badly hurt," Nat stated seriously as a small group of people came in, one was an engineer who had her arm holding up a fellow officer in science blue, both had bruises and bumps on their faces. "Ensign Daniels here busted her nose, and Crewman Tamberly is feeling woozy," Gui explained as the two came near them.

Daniels nodded. "I think he has a concussion, he's feeling really dizzy and having trouble walking..." she explained, helping her friend stand.

"Why didn't you just go to Sickbay?" Kremer asked as Gui handed Joji over to him.

"We were redirected to come here," Tamberly managed. "After the ship got flipped during the battle, everyone went there, I'm guessing they'll be busy for the time being."

"As will we I'm sure," the Cait replied dryly. "Ensign Johnstone, I think...uh...the little furball here..."

"JOJI! Her name is Joji..." Nat replied, snapping at Kremer's remark.

"I'm sorry. Joji here appears to have fractured her lower leg bone, take her over there, and give her a mild painkiller and see if you can set the bone and then put it in a splint; I'll look after Daniels and Tamberly."

Alexia pointed Nat towards a bed nearby and gently lowered Joji onto it, then reached into one of the medical kits and took out the things she thought she would need. Joji looked to be in pain - Lexi hoped she would be able to help. She had never treated a dog before, but figured there was always a first for everything! She applied a small dose of painkiller to Joji's hip region, then manipulated the bone carefully into what appeared to be the correct position and applied the splint. She picked up a bone knitter and applied it to the leg. While she was working, she unconsciously started patting Joji, scratching the dog under the chin as she applied the small device. It hummed softly. In a few minutes the bone was set again.

"There," Alexia said over her shoulder to Nat as she continued patting Joji. "I think that should help. She'll be in a bit of pain for a while, but I think the bone will mend okay. You'll need to keep her very quiet for a few days though, just to make sure it's alright." She turned to face Nat and smiled as she said, "She reminds me of my dog I had when I was growing up, although mine was a dachsund - her name was Tess."

Alexia picked Joji up carefully and passed her back to Nat. She looked over towards Kremer. "How are you doing with the others? Can I do anything to help?"

Kremer nodded. "Yes, Crewman Tamberly will be just fine, but the best thing would be for him not to move a great deal, so we don't risk him losing consciousness. I've given Ensign Daniels an antibiotic for her injury, see if you can stop the bleeding."

"What about me? Is there anything I can do to help?" Nathalie asked, looking to both Medical Officers. The tall Caitian nodded. "See to it that other members of the crew looking for treatment come here but they do so in an orderly fashion. I have a feeling we'll be getting more visitors soon."

Nat nodded. "Got it. I'll get right on it, I'll be sure to relay the information to my fellow Security Officers."

Alexia grabbed two ice packs from a medical kit and walked over to Ensign Daniels. She held one over the bridge of her nose and the other she placed on the back of Daniels' neck. "Why don't you just relax on the bed for a while?" Lexi said to Daniels. "This is an old-fashioned remedy but it works really well." Lexi knew she could have used a dermal regenerator and have had the bleeding stopped in no time flat, but she had no idea how long they would be holed up in the cargo bay, or how many injured they would need to treat. She wanted to ensure they had all the equipment at its optimum levels for emergency use at any given time, so she had chosen the 'old-fashioned' way of treating a bleeding nose in order to save the charge levels.

Kremer watched as Johnstone worked for a moment before turning back to tend to Tamberly. He had an odd feeling that the injured they were treating was only a taste of things to come after the Sulu aiding in the fight against the Seeblin. Just how much worse could things get?

---

"Combat? What's that? Part 2"
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: Sensor Core, Deck 2, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17 14h10

***

Vincent remembered being thrown out of his seat and sent sprawling across the cold deck. He had noticed the fluctuating of the Dominion vessel's warp core but had not been able to process the information before it had exploded, sending shock waves in all directions.

Gingerly Vincent picked himself up from the deck. Checking his console he realized it was not operational. Checks of all the other computers confirmed that sensors were down. Wiping sweat off his brow Vincent noticed that again his left arm was stiffened and unresponsive. The already strained area of his body had probably been pushed over the edge again. There was little doubt that he had reinjured the collarbone.

This was indeed the baptism of fire that Vincent had been dreading. Never really entering a true battle before and not really sure of what to do, Vincent was now faced with a myriad of problems. His arm was in greater pain than ever. His station and all sensors were down. Although the ship seemed safe, Vincent had no real way of telling.

Looking around the room, he noticed that few others had been injured and everyone's morale seemed to be high. Vincent sat down feeling foolish. He could imagine what was going on inside their heads. "Stupid rookie, screwing everything up" or "Falling all over the place! What an idiot!"

Smiling wanly he settled down again. The heat inside the cramped room was rising and a bead of sweat fell from Vincent's brow down onto the black screen of his console. Wiping away the moisture with his sleeve Vincent set about trying to jury-rig it into working. Bringing those sensors online was not going to be an easy feat.

A slow flicker came as Vincent re-wired his console. Soon his console came online and Vincent hunched over it staring at the random numbers and words that didn't seem to have any meaning. Staring down at the confusing mess, Vincent tried vainly to enter any program that would help repair the sensors. He was without a job until sensors were brought online and more importantly the ship was blind without them.

It was not Vincent's job to fix the sensors; the job belonged to the realm of Engineering. But Vincent was not going to stand by idle and helpless. It might be his first combat but he had a feeling it wouldn't be his last.

---

"Smoothing Ruffled Feathers"
By: Captain Matthew Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lieutenant j.g. Mark Thaine
Ensign Roades Mouazer

Location: Main Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 14h10

***

The emergency lights had returned several minutes ago. Shield strength was at fifty-four percent and holding, and much of the EPS damage was being repaired on the bridge.

In the center of the bridge, Matt Salinger and Lyrr Tayla huddled together, each referring to the padds they held.

"Lt. Thaine says he can have the impulse engines back online in seven minutes," Matt was saying. "Tactical will take a little longer for the phasers. It appears the ODN relays that run between the main phaser control and the bridge overloaded. They're being replaced now, but engineering doesn't have an estimate on when they'll be done. So far, none of our spotters have seen anyone approaching. What about sensors?"

"Two minutes is the estimate," Lyrr replied, still dabbing at the bloody cut in her lip with the back of one hand. "They should be online once the primary imaging relays have been reinitialized. For the time being, I've had science launch a sensor probe to give us some idea of what's out there. We're waiting on initial telemetry."

"Good," Matt said. "I'm surprised we're still here given how powerful that explosion was and our proximity to it."

"They must have been carrying some volatile cargo to have caused such a tremendous impact," Lyrr noted. "It could be why the Seeblin were attacking them."

Matt nodded slowly. "True," he said. "It would be a new pattern of behaviour for them, but not one I would be surprised at. As soon as the systems are restored, I want Sam to analyze the readings he was picking up before their ship was destroyed. I'm certain he and Lt. Tagliesh can come up with something."

Another padd was handed off to Lyrr. She gave Rett a nod and a brief smile; she wondered if he regretted accepting the position of XO's yeoman, but he looked only slightly shaken by the battle. "Medical reports some minor injuries but no fatalities...yet," Lyrr reported off the padd.

"We were just shaken up a bit," Matt said. "Once Dr. Sefton gets us an injury report, we'll know the extent of our personnel injuries. Once sensors are back online, we'll be able to make a more full assessment."

"Captain," Sam announced, "short range sensors have been restored. I am unable to detect the Seeblin vessels also caught in the blast."

"Perhaps they went limping home," Lyrr shrugged.

"Receiving telemetry from the sensor probes," Tagliesh chimed in from her station. She looked back at Matt, slightly troubled. "There's something out there, and it's big."

Matt slowly turned back to Xayella, and an eyebrow arched its way up his forehead. "Define...big..."

Xayella shook her head. "Can't say, Captain. Without the main sensor grid to supplement the readings, all I can tell you is that there's something out there and it certainly isn't a Seeblin attack ship."

Matt and Lyrr exchanged worrisome frowns, then both stalked to their seats. "Sam, can you get anything more from the sensors?" Lyrr called to him.

"Attempting to ascertain more information, Commander," Sam stated as he adjusted the sensors to get more data from them. "I have detected a warp signature, and the approaching vessel casts a sensor shadow similar to a Starfleet starship. It is almost in range for a detailed scan."

"There are no other Starfleet vessels in this area," Lyrr reminded Matt.

"Damn peculiar," Matt said. "Can we put it on screen?"

"Imagers still off-line, Captain," Xayella replied.

Matt turned back to Ops. "Sam?"

"The configuration of the approaching vessel matches the Sovereign-class, Captain," he said. "Their transponder is currently not broadcasting. Their projected course will intercept with us within one minute. There are no Sovereign-class starships located in this region, Captain."

"No hail?" Lyrr inquired, glancing back at Mouse.

"None detected, sir," he answered.

Matt opened a channel to engineering. "Mr. Thaine, status of our engines?"

"Another two minutes at least," came the reply. "We're working as fast as we can, Captain."

"If you can get us power in less than two minutes," Matt said, "you'll be our Miracle Worker, Mr. Thaine. Give me what you've got as soon as you can. We've got a ship incoming."

"I'll see what I can do." As the channel closed, Matt could hear Thaine beginning to bark orders.

He turned to Lyrr. "It's probably too much, even for me, to assume they're friendly. Especially out here."

"If they're Starfleet," Lyrr said, "then they doubtlessly will be."

"Captain," Xay announced, "main viewer online. Bringing the ship on screen...now."

The blank viewscreen shimmered, and then shimmered into a starfield. Dominating the center of the screen was a Sovereign-class starship. Its streamlined hull slid through space effortlessly. It held a predatory look, dangerous and powerful. Telltale signs indicated its weapons were active and ready to do damage, and Matt feared they were pointed at his own ship.

"Magnify," he said, and T'Kal did from the tactical station. Emblazoned on the hull was the ship's name and registry. As the name snapped into focus, the entire crew of the bridge let out a collective gasp.

I.S.S Windsor.

Many couldn't help glancing at the Sulu's tactical officer.

Benedict looked up from his tactical summaries. The flood of instant action information was still scrolling across his screens as the ship's tactical computer was spitting out the overwhelming fact that an Intrepid Class ship stood a comet's chance in a solar flare of surviving an engagement against the ship sitting squatly in their path. His expression remained neutral for almost a half-second. The registry name was one he was used to seeing - but the ship's class was all wrong! The three letters before the name Windsor read 'I.S.S.' Confusion manifested itself on the tactical officer's face.

"Captain," Mouse suddenly piped up. "We're being hailed."

Matt glanced to Lyrr, his eyebrow raised in a questioning arch.

"We have little choice, now do we?" Lyrr told him flatly. "Though, I do suggest that we get those shields up to full strength as soon as possible."

Matt looked back to T'Kal and nodded. And as the Bajoran tactical officer redoubled his efforts to get the shields back to full strength, Matt turned to Mouse. "On screen, Mr. Mouazer."

The Sovereign-class Windsor was replaced by a young looking woman of Vulcan heritage, though unlike any Vulcan Matt had ever seen. Her eyes were a deep brown and intense as she gazed forward. Her features were fine, and beautiful. Her hair was black with a forelock falling down over one eye, with the other side of her head closely shaved and dyed a deep red. She smiled, and looked past the central chairs toward the tactical station. There was recognition in her eyes as she focused on the Tactical Chief.

" 'ello, Benedict," she said.

---

"Just Like Mom"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Ensign Amy Reese - Head Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h24

***

Sending Ensign Simms on his way back to his post, Damhnait Sefton cast her gaze across Sickbay. During the battle, no crew-members had reported to Sickbay unless they were unable to perform their duties; the fewer patients had meant that the medical staff was able to remain calm and efficient in attending to the complicated treatments. After the end of the battle, there had been a few moments where it seemed the much greater number of patients might overwhelm the medical staff, but most of the injuries had been quick fixes and many of the crew had known to go to the triage centres close to their duty stations. Now, less than half a dozen patients remained in Sickbay.

Marching up behind Amy Reese, Damhnait instructed her, "I believe Mister Quezith can take your patient from here. Please, join me in my office, Ensign Reese." Sefton's tone had been clipped, but in her professional way, rather than in her 'what the hell have you said now, Amy?' way.

Amy whimpered acknowledgement, and scurried behind Damhnait. "I-Is there anything I can help you with, Doctor?" she asked nervously.

Sefton was silent until she stepped through the threshold into her office, at which point she immediately ordered, "Computer, begin temporary medical log, Chief Medical Officer and Head Nurse recording."

Damhnait strode around to the other side of her desk, and turned to face Amy, but did not sit. "I find it helpful, in writing final logs on major incidents, if I've recorded my immediate thoughts. Most importantly, I think I need to say out loud that there were no fatalities. In fact, I need to send a report saying as much to the bridge right away, but I'd also like to hear what your first impressions are of the staff's performance."

"M-My impressions," she whispered, nearly grimacing. "Um...well...." Very aware of the computer recording their every word, and her every whimper, Amy cleared her throat to bolster confidence. "I...I think they performed well, Doctor. I mean...everyone rushed to their posts the minute the red alert started. A-And there weren't any catfights." Amy's smile indicated she was proud of that more than anything else.

Damhnait smiled lopsidedly at that, while she leaned forward against her desk and quickly keyed in the report to the bridge on the utter lack of fatalities and on the very few remaining casualties. Slowly, Damhnait stated half to the recording and half to Amy, "I was impressed by Raina's keen ability to accept the incoming communications to Sickbay and dispatch the needed personnel from the triage centres, without neglecting her own patients. Of course, she wouldn't have been able to do so without the vigilance of Cris and Carrie who stepped in when Raina needed to take a step back from whomever she was treating herself."

"Raina's practically an expert," Amy concurred eagerly. "I-I guess she's next in line for Head Nurse?"

"Raina's expertise already affords her command experience in directing the medical branch of the damage control teams. To be honest, I think I might even switch her back to the frontline in the future, to ensure her trauma treatment abilities remain honed," Damhnait decided and admitted. "I have not yet decided on the next Head Nurse, but I suspect it will be either Ensign Szerda or Sefton."

Amy mouthed an 'Oh' and awkwardly looked down at her feet. "I know I haven't been the best nurse," she said, "and I know you're not fond of me, Doctor, but I really have tried my best."

"Computer, stop recording," Damhnait ordered, with a hard edge to her words. Without entirely losing that edge, she stated, "No one has been the best nurse. Why do you think I don't like you?"

Amy physically shrank away, regretting instantly her choice of words. "I-I just-- I don't know...." Her expression was pained when she gazed up at the doctor. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be like her. That's the last thing I'd ever want!"

"What are you speaking of?" Damhnait demanded, more out of frustration than anger. She gestured Amy towards the chair on the other side of the desk, and sat down as well. The logs would have to wait.

Hesitantly, she took the seat, though her posture remained stiff and her hands squeezed fistfuls of her pant legs in between them. "I...I just--You said earlier something about my mother.... And then Crissy said something about.... And then...." She sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I didn't mean to say anything."

There were increasingly blatant looks of realisation coming across Damhnait's face after each of Amy's aborted-statements. Finally, Sefton just started to sharply laugh. "I'm sorry!" she pleaded, covering the lower half of her mouth with her hand, but continuing to laugh.

Amy's eyes watered over and her lip quivered in response to Sefton's ridicule. It was unbearable. "What?" she pleaded thickly.

Sefton covered her face with both hands, and once they were pulled away, there was a neutral expression on her face. Her eyes pleaded contrition, though, as Damhnait said, "You really should not listen to gossip. All that I meant when I compared you to your mother is that you make the same face" --Dav attempted a scrunchy pout-- "as your mother, when she would get defeatist. I honestly did not know your mother well enough to tell if you are very much like her."

"Well, I'm not," Amy asserted petulantly. "And...and from now on, I'll make an honest effort to refrain from looking like her. Though you're probably thinking you wish I were more like her, right?" She snorted. "She was a perfectionist in every sense...just like you. She always criticized me...even when I was doing things right! I just...could never please her..." Lowering her gaze, she muttered, "Sorta like you."

"Amy, I have never lied to you. As such, I'm going to assume that you have simply forgotten every one of your performance reviews in which I've praised you for your excellent performance of your duty," Sefton offered a hardened assertion, clearly saddened by Amy's admission. "Not to mention the fact that I have not complained once that your anger management counselling sessions with Doctor Potts ended rather abruptly to afford you more time for couples counselling with Lieutenant Scott. Not to mention that you are still working in my Sickbay, and that I named you as Head Nurse. Do you honestly think I would let you anywhere near my patients if I thought you weren't good enough?"

"Well...if this were a test, you would...maybe." Chuckling bashfully, Amy added, "Sounds pretty stupid.... I-I'm sorry, Doctor Sefton. But I just don't want you to treat me differently because of who my mother is...though that only applies if you really, really hate her."

"My behaviour towards you is based on who you are. You become distracted too easily sometimes, but you are a good nurse. ...And I don't hate your mother, by the way." Sefton smiled a unique smile of reminiscence. "Many years ago, probably just before you were born or when you were just an infant, there was a period of five years when your mother and I bumped into each other at every medical conference that either of us attended. One time we were even assigned to the same guest quarters on Starbase 76. I can easily imagine her becoming the woman you describe, but I remember there being times, the two of us sitting there in our skants, chatting as we awaited the key-note speaker, and she would display a self-depreciating paranoia that could rival your own."

"Paranoia?" Amy's amazement was evident in her largely expanding eyes. "My mother? Are you sure? I-I mean....she was always so confident and proud and demanding.... I didn't think she ever doubted herself - she's never had any reason to!"

"How could she never have reason to doubt herself?" Sefton incredulously asked.

"Because," Amy whispered, her smile wistful, "she's perfect."

Damhnait took a moment to regard Amy as she might regard the babblings of a patient with a head wound, but regained complete neutrality in expression and tone to express, "She's not."

An indignant frown was directed at Damhnait, very closely resembling that donned by her mother on many occasions. "She is," Amy insisted. "She...she has to be! All my life I've tried to aspire to her perfection.... How can I possibly attain something that doesn't even exist?"

"The problem with perfection, attainable or not, is that it's a matter of perception;" Damhnait smiled sadly. "There are no absolute quantifiable attributes defining perfection."

"Then--" Amy sighed sharply with anger that was tightly but barely under control. "Why the hell did I do all those things, then?!" she shrieked. "I went crazy trying to meet her approval, trying to be perfect...but no one ever told me that was impossible." The emotional outburst having deflated her outrage, Amy sagged in the chair and pouted. "I could've been an artist...or something - anything but a nurse, but I did it to please her, to prove that I could be great like she was. Now, it's all been for nothing?"

"Regardless of motivation, I would hardly call becoming a medical officer in Starfleet 'nothing'," Damhnait pointed out, without taking offence. "And it certainly does not preclude you the chance to explore your artistic side."

"I know, and you're right, Doctor, I didn't mean to make it sound like I wasn't happy-- I am," she insisted and smiled sheepishly. "I look up to you. You're so strong and commanding.... I get scared sometimes even when you're smiling at me! So...I'm really happy being a part of your sickbay, Doctor Sefton...my mother be damned!" She giggled at her own boldness.

"I'm glad you're happy here," Damhnait stated, infused with Amy's exuberance. "Up until I made you head nurse, though, you haven't seemed very happy over the past couple of months."

"I-I've been happy," Amy replied, though her gaze shifted from Damhnait's to avoid giving the lie away. "I mean, things have been running smoothly and I'm really learning a lot." She smiled tautly and stated decisively, "This has been the most fulfilling experience of my working life, Doctor."

"Make sure it is at least vaguely fulfilling for your personal life," Sefton told her softly, but wouldn't press the issue, despite Amy's earlier blatant lie. She just hoped Amy would know well enough to continue this discussion with Counsellor Scott. "...Do you have any other immediate thoughts on the nurses' performance? As Head Nurse, being amiable to your colleagues is one thing, but you can't hold anything back for the sake of kindness or propriety in your reports."

"Oh, I would never do that, Doctor," she assured her. "The truth is...we're all shaping up to be a good, efficient team. I mean, sure, everyone has their own personality quirks that aren't exactly attractive at times...but you know," Amy told her thoughtfully, "we really are great healers. I'm so very glad I'm still here to be a part of it and that you didn't kick me out because I slapped your annoying son." Her grin was large and bright.

Damhnait nodded tightly, and informed Amy, "I really must complete the most official of reports to keep the bridge fully informed of the nature of our casualties. You can return to your duty now, but please check in with Raina, to see if all of the triage teams have reported back to her."

"Yes, Doctor." Obediently, and still grinning at her superior, Amy made for the door with renewed confidence.

"And, Amy: good work today," Sefton flashed a brief grin at Reese. "No fatalities."

"Not yet," Amy quipped, then winked teasingly at Sefton and sashayed out of her office.

Sefton perplexedly stared after Amy for a moment, unable to figure the intended humour behind her words. Without wasting more than a moment, she returned her attention to the reports that needed to be recorded, and desperately hoped she wouldn't soon be reviewing Head Nurse reports that referred to Nurse Sefton as 'your annoying son.'

---

"Alternate Views"
by Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Ensign Viraj - Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h25

***

With Medical Technicians already depositing restocked emergency medical kits throughout the ship, Ensign Viraj pushed an antigrav cart that was filled with the remains of medical kits that needed to be refilled or recycled after their usage and damage in battle. Once he passed through the waiting room and into Main Sickbay, he almost bumped the cart into Nurse Sefton.

"Sorry!" Viraj muttered meekly.

"For what?" Cristobel asked, his eyes wide with confusion as he spun to face Viraj.

Viraj recognised that he hadn't actually done anything wrong, and considered explaining the situation, but opted for a simple, "Never mind." He handed over an isolinear chip that detailed the inventory of everything Viraj had carted over, and then leaned in suggestively to hand over a tidbit of gossip.

"Have you looked out a viewport lately?" Viraj excitedly asked.

Sweeping his arms out wide, Cris replied, "We're all walled in here."

With even more urgency than before, Viraj hissed, "There is a Sovereign out there marked as the I.S.S. Windsor!"

"Aye Ess Ess," Sefton echoed thoughtfully. "That would be an... Imperial starship jaunting over from an alternative universe."

"Imperial. Imp-erial. Imp-er-ial," Viraj repeated, never having actually said that word before. There was no direct translation in the Deltan language. Uneasily, he admitted, "I don't like how that feels on my lips and tongue. What kind of alternate universe is that?"

Shrugging, Cris could only respond, "There are infinite possibilities. I suppose it's got to be a pretty stable universe for them to have made it here."

"Here we are roaming the Gamma Quadrant, and we get interrupted by people from outside our own universe," Viraj said, almost stupefied by his own statement. "It's insane! ...Maybe not 'insane', but certainly a small portion of crazy."

"Meh," Cristobel shrugged again. "Who hasn't been to an alternative universe? They're going to be the next vacation spot supreme; you'll see. Alternative universes will be the new Risa."

---

"Shades of the Past, Part 1"
By: Captain Matthew Salinger
Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 14h26

***

'ello Benedict...

The tone of voice made him look up. It was too intimately familiar. The broad Cockney accent and the missing H. The use of his name. His eyes flicked up into the woman on the screen, and they met chocolate coloured eyes that he'd stared at for five years in a painting on his stateroom wall. Her face was as he remembered it. The lips just curved into a smile in a way that he knew yet it was impossible. His mind refused to process the information from his eyes and his ears. It wasn't possible. It was only his voice that couldn't be stilled. "Tebrianne?" His violet gaze was riveted to the screen as the face of his dead fiancée stared back at him. His hands gripped the tactical console's hand rail for support as his legs felt decidedly rubbery.

Lyrr watched Ben, taking his reaction as harsh confirmation that the ghost dominating the viewscreen was the woman from Ben's past. In all his stories, though, he failed to express how truly entrancing her appearance was. Lyrr rigidly shifted her attention to the screen once more, and struggled against her quickly rising fear. Her head felt light and her body shivered with a chill only a reaffirming embrace from Ben could fend off. Her own hands mimicked Ben's by closing around the armrests and squeezing. If this was a sign from the Prophets that their relationship defied approval, it was a suitably resounding statement.

On the screen, she laughed. It was a musical sound, filled with mirth. "Actually, it's T'Briane, but I can see where you might make such a silly mistake. I'd like to introduce you to the Windsor...she's my baby. Now, Captain and Commander, this is the part where you offer your surrender, and I promise not to destroy your little ship."

"Like hell you do," Lyrr, having found her voice again, spat. "Disarm your weapons now and you can explain to us what you're doing in the Gamma Quadrant dealing out threats to fellow Starfleet officers."

"Oh, you have spirit," T'Briane purred. "I'm certain your tactical data is all lit up right now. From that, you should be able to tell, I outgun you. Now, love, let's cooperate so I don't have to show you just how much bigger my guns are than yours."

"Who are you?" Matt asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched their aggressor. "Starfleet doesn't negotiate with terrorists."

"'Course not, love," T'Briane said, "but I'm not a terrorist. This region of space is controlled by the Galactic Empire, and you are our prisoner."

"This," Lyrr clarified venomously, "is unclaimed space and you are a renegade, Commander Bancroft. Now stand down your weapons!"

Lyrr's voice cracked through Benedict's shock. Not Tebrianne, but she had said his name. She recognised him...what did that mean? Benedict tore his gaze from the apparition on the view screen and looked at Lyrr. The cold chill that swept his body shook him out of his temporary state. His eyes flicked back to the tactical display that was gaining resolution even as he made sense of it. His breath whooshed out of him as if he'd been punched in the gut. "Captain, we're not in the Gamma Quadrant." His voice wasn't nearly enough to reach across the Bridge, but it did. There was silence as all eyes were still locked onto T'Briane.

"Oh hurrah," T'Briane said. "If anyone would figure it out, I knew it would be you, Ben. Though, that's not quite accurate. Technically you are in the Gamma Quadrant, just not your own. Captain Kirk discovered this lovely bit of paradise a number of years back. Sort of just called the Mirror Univserse by your types. And, to correct the dear commander's misconception, this region of space is controlled by the Galactic Empire. Now, unless you wish for me to show you just how much control we have here, I suggest you lower your shields." Some of the playfulness was leaking away, being replaced by real venom.

"Captain," Lyrr whispered, "don't do it. We can outrun them in warp."

"We have no power," Matt whispered back as he looked through the reports. "We're dead in space, Lyrr. We can turn in place if we're lucky. We're dead in space."

"Captain, I'm growing tired of this game you're playing. Lower your shields now, or I'll lower them for you."

"Starfleet does not negotiate with terrorists," Matt responded.

"I heard you the first time," T'Briane sneered. "And, I told you, I'm not a bloody terrorist." From the Windsor, crimson arcs of phaser fire lanced across the hull of the Sulu. Within the Sulu, feedback arced across control surfaces. The shot was precise, and they could only sit and watch while the shields collapsed.

"Captain, shields are at 17% and dropping. If we don't drop them ourselves, we'll take hull damage." Benedict's eyes were stony, he didn't like the taste of defeat, but they were sitting dead in space. If the Windsor's phasers touched the hull crew would die needlessly. It was better to comply until they could get warp drives on line.

"Sam, divert non-essential power to the shields," Lyrr ordered, then met Matt's gaze. "If we drop those shields," she whispered, "we might not be leaving here alive at any rate. I don't know about you, Captain, but I'd like to take my chances fighting our way out of this."

"What do you think the odds are in a fight between a nearly-crippled Intrepid-class light explorer and an undamaged, fully-operational Sovereign-class heavy explorer?"

"Very small," Lyrr admitted. "But if we don't fight, we will be captured and do you truly believe that woman will show us any mercy?"

"Somehow she knows Benedict," Matt said. "Maybe we can use that to our advantage."

Benedict had his eyes firmly on the tactical screens. "Shields at 5%." His voice cut across the Bridge. "We do not have the capability to run or to fight, Captain."

Lyrr alternated her gaze between Ben and Matt, her thoughts oscillating between surrendering or fighting, between allowing Ben to reunite with his ex-lover or dying just to keep him to herself. She sighed unsteadily and nodded to Matt.

"Alright!" Matt surged to his feet, staring down T'Briane. "We'll lower our shields. Stop your firing."

T'Briane nodded to someone out of view, and the firing stopped immediately. "Now now, that wasn't so difficult, was it? As I see it, you didn't have much longer to go before we started chipping away at that lovely hull. I'm sending over a landing party; I do hope you show them some courtesy. If not, well, I can't really say what they might do."

At the back of the bridge, six shimmering forms materialized. At the head of the six appeared to be T'Briane, but the captain of the Windsor appeared to still be talking on the viewscreen.

As one, all six drew phasers, and the one in the lead marched forward to stand behind Captain Salinger. She pulled something from her belt and pressed it into his shoulder. A split-second later, the captain was beamed away. Lieutenant Tagliesh gasped Matt's name and leapt from her seat.

"Insurance," she said. "Just to make sure no one tries anything funny. My name is Tebrianne, and I'm assuming command of this vessel. The crew of this ship will still maintain operations. Any resistance, and your beloved captain will suffer for it at the hands of Captain T'Briane. Engineers will be transported over to assist with repairs, then we'll get underway." Throughout her entire speech, it was obvious that she avoided looking toward tactical.

"What is this?" Lyrr hissed, standing tall over the other woman. Her first thought was she was far more striking in person, the leather of her outfit hugging perfectly every curve and her dark, sultry eyes easily intimidating Lyrr with their intensity. She would not submit to this woman, however, especially not in front of T'Kal. "In Captain Salinger's absence, I am commanding officer of this vessel," Lyrr stated firmly. "Which means you will get off my bridge and have your men disarmed."

"Under normal circumstances, that may be so, Commander," Tebrianne said. "Though, I imagine you'd agree that these aren't normal circumstances. Think about your captain, because he will be the one paying the price for any insolences over 'ere. I know you must think this is all a real crock, but it'll only get worse if you fight it. Things aren't like what you're used to back in your own galaxy. People are cruel and vicious, they'll stab you in the back for no reason whatsoever. I learned it the 'ard way. If I can save you from even a little grief and suffering, please take my advice."

" 'Please?' " Lyrr scoffed. "You and your crew weren't interested in politesse while you were blasting away at our ship. I don't know what the hell is going on here, I have no idea what this entire business of a different galaxy is about, and I don't know who you really are, so pardon me if I refuse to listen to a damn word you say!" She took a step towards the smaller woman, and felt every weapon in the room follow her. Lyrr's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Now get off my bridge," she rasped.

"Oh bloody 'ell," Teb growled. "How in all of Starfleet did they ever give a commission to someone as narrow-minded and concept-blind as you? I don't have time for this." With that, she stepped forward, her movements graceful and fluid. As she moved, she pulled a blade with her left hand. "If you want to mix it, let's go."

At Tactical Benedict saw the small blade materialize in Tebrianne's hand. It had taken only a moment to realize that the woman on the screen and the woman on the Sulu's Bridge weren't the same. This was Tebrianne in the flesh, the woman who had died in an explosion five years ago, and she was pulling a knife on Lyrr Tayla. His eyes flicked across the five others in the boarding party, and sure enough their phasers were pointed at Lyrr as she stood tall over Tebrianne. T'Kal's right hand moved fractionally behind his back and his phaser dropped into his palm. It seemed as if time moved increasingly slowly as he prepared to shoot the weapon. His point of aim centred upon Tebrianne's neck. His eyes drilled into her back as he summoned the will to shoot her. His finger dialled up the power setting to heavy stun.

Lyrr puzzled over the phrasing, but the brandished knife did much to enlighten her. She stood tall and firm, still glaring at the woman. "Computer," she called quickly, "lock down all systems, authorization Lyrr Alpha-seven." She smirked at Teb as all computer terminals darkened. "Kill me and you'll never have this ship. Killing the captain won't change that, nor will harming any other member of this vessel."

Tebrianne rolled her eyes. "Bloody arrogant bitch," Teb snarled. "'e dies, it's your bloody fault. Remember that." With that, she brought her empty hand around and it moved like a viper toward where Lyrr's shoulder met her neck. Benedict was ready to shoot, but the Romulan girl was using an unarmed technique that wouldn't kill. Still, his gaze was fixed to the target as he watched the knife hand. She applied pressure and Lyrr's eyes rolled back in her head as she sank to the floor. It seemed like an eternity had passed before Teb could pull her gaze from the slim band circling Lyrr's wrist.

It was then that Tebrianne became aware of the inhuman screams. She snapped out of her fugue, and quickly looked around, expecting the bridge to have broken into chaos during her melee with the first officer. But, she saw that all eyes were focused on the main viewer, and Tagliesh's shout was directed at one person. Emblazoned there, for all to see, was Captain Salinger doubled over with three painsticks driven into his back.

"Captain," Teb cried. "Stop! I'll get access!"

One by one the painsticks were removed and the screaming stopped.

T'Briane's gaze swept across the bridge, making certain to make eye contact with everyone present. "Remember what happened here," she said. "The next time your little ship openly defies me, I assure you the settings will be raised. Now, return access to the ship's consoles by whatever means you have at your disposal, and quickly. I have no intention of killing your dear Captain Salinger, but I know a great number of ways to inflict pain without causing death."

Tebrianne turned to Benedict, the only member of the crew she had any sort of connection to, the only person who might be able to help her regain control of the ship. "What can we do to get access back, Ben?"

---

"Last Stands"
by Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering Crewchief
Ensign Byron Klipper, Engineering Officer

Location: Main Engineering, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h30

***

"The hell?!" Thaine stared at his console readout in disbelief, and then, a second later, horrible realization. "We've dropped the shields...we're being boarded." A number of automated alerts from security filtered onto his console, indicated proximity alerts and transporter beams detected.

"Boarded?" Caly's eyes roamed over her own readouts, a deep frown marring her brow. "I'm showing six entities beamed directly onto the bridge, sir," she confirmed for him, and her fingers flew over the console. "And one just beamed bac-- Was that the Captain's signature?" She blinked and looked over at Thaine, green eyes wide in disbelief.

"This is ridiculous!" Thaine's temper flared. "Computer, lockdown engineering systems."

"Unable to comply," answered the computer, pleasantly. "Lockdown already in effect."

"On whose authority?"

"Lockdown in effect under authority Commander Lyrr Tayla."

"Sir, what are we going to do?" Byron didn't like being at someone else's mercy again and would fight to the death to defend his ship. He had started to unconsciously clench and unclench his hands.

"We do our jobs, and wait," answered Thaine, bringing his anger under control. "Shields are down for a reason. We'll know soon enough."

"Perhaps we should lock Engineering, sir?" Caly looked towards the doors, expecting gremlins to appear at any moment. Although realistically she knew that if the ship had been taken, locking themselves in Engineering would probably be counter-productive to their welfare. She felt helpless. And she imagined that everyone else did too. Especially Thaine. She gave him an understanding look. "Never mind that, sir. It was a dumb idea."

Thaine looked toward Caly, and gave her a look which, from Thaine at least, passed as reassuring.. "Everyone keep alert," he ordered, more to give the nervous crew something to do than anything else. "The moment you see or hear any sign of visitors arriving, I want to know." It was futile, and everyone knew it. But sometimes rules, regulations and orders could be an emotional shelter in a storm.

"Sir should we break out the phasers?" Byron eyed the lockbox that was on the wall.

Caly smiled at Thaine when he looked at her. As much to acknowledge his reassurance as to let him know she was okay. Her gaze followed Byron's to the lockbox and she frowned, looking back to Thaine for his response. She knew that armed resistance could lead to someone getting killed and she was prepared to risk that if given the order to bear arms.

As Caly watched, the Chief Engineer sighed, reaching a decision. "Ensign Klipper, arm those present. But nobody is to fire without my direct orders, is that clear?"

"Aye, Sir." Byron rose and in the blink of an eye crossed the room.

"I need some gum..." Caly muttered under her breath. "And, sir... I need to dismantle a piece of gear that's in my pack," she told Thaine.

"Dismantle a piece of gear?" Thaine regarded her with a puzzled expression, but let it slide. "Fine. Just get on with it, and get back to your post as quick as you can."

"A spider, sir," Caly added helpfully and reached for her pack, which really was never too far away from her. "It'll take me forty-five seconds, tops..." she told him even as she pulled Watson out and turned him off before deft fingers began to quickly and expertly reduce him to mechanical and robotic...parts.

"Booter, Commander," Byron said, handing each a phaser and a spare energy cell. He made his way to each station giving each engineer the same.

After a heartbeat of hesitation, Caly took the phaser with a look and a nod to Byron. She secured it to her belt then quickly finished with the spider before her eyes and hands went back to her station. "Sir, the lockdown's been lifted," she announced.

Thaine's eyes were fixed on his phaser. With the end of the Dominion War, Thaine had hoped he would never have had to hold one of these again. It had been naive of him to think so; wars might end, but killing never did. Death seemed to follow humanity wherever it went; it crossed eras of time and quadrants of galaxies. Caly's voice snapped him back to reality. "Lifted? Why would Lyrr--"

He never managed to finish his sentence. As he spoke, the shimmering forms of a dozen heavily armed figures appeared in Main Engineering. It took less than a moment for Thaine to realise they were not just armed, but armoured too, in heavy protective suits. "Hold your fire!" barked Thaine, trying to stop any nervous trigger fingers from being the death of all of them.

As soon as the tell-tale shimmering began, Caly had stood and her hand went to the phaser at her waist. It was Thaine's barked command that had her lifting her hands slightly away from her body as she stared coldly at the boarding party.

"Sir I don't think that is going to be wise," Byron muttered.

The two groups stood silently; the Starfleet engineers surrounded on all sides, out numbered and out-gunned by their unknown enemy. It couldn't have lasted for more than a few beats of Thaine's heart, but it seemed to last an eternity.

One of them met Thaine's gaze squarely; clearly their leader. "You're outnumbered, Lieutenant," he said coldly, his features exhibiting a look of smug superiority. "Do you want to make a last stand, or are you going to be smart about this?" And then he smirked. It was enough for Thaine to instantly hate him.

Caly's body inched closer to Thaine and Byron in an unconscious show of unity, or perhaps protection, as she waited for her CO's decision, prepared to follow it no matter what it was. Her gaze never left the armoured goons.

Thaine's gaze briefly flickered from his phaser to the rifles of the invaders. They didn't stand a chance. "Alright," he said, lowering his weapon. "We surrender." The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

"We do?" Byron was in disbelief. Rabble beams aboard and the Chief Engineer surrenders to them.

"Ensign, put down your weapon." Thaine glanced toward Byron, while a number of the armed invaders began moving in, taking the weapons from the other engineers. The remaining ones stayed back, covering their comrades with their rifles. "Klipper," the Chief said, in a lower voice, "not now."

"Sir..." Caly moved a smidge closer to Byron, her voice a whispered undertone that was meant for his ears only. "The XO unlocked the computer and we won't last five seconds by ourselves... This isn't the time to make our stand..." Despite her words, her sentiments mirrored Byron's. But one of her functions was to see to the safety of the Command Staff, and she didn't have a hope in hell of doing that right here and now if they put up a fight.

"In ten years tell me when it is to make our stand again." Byron handed his phaser to Cal and resigned himself to fire glares at the intruders instead of phaser bolts.

"It wont take that long," she assured him, still in that whispering undertone as she took his phaser and handed it and hers over to one of the goons. "Because we won't let it."

"We will see won't we," Byron said flatly.

It was the leader himself who took Thaine's phaser. Holding it up, critically examining it, his eyes narrowed in disdain. "Pathetic," he commented. "Rather like the state of this ship. My name is Crix, Lieutenant, and from now on, I'm in charge here."

By his side, Thaine's hand clenched in anger. "Hell you are," he said. "If you think I'm gonna--"

He never even saw Crix move. One moment he was making a defiant stance, the next he was doubled over in pain, almost on his knees, before the Enforcer.

It was the nudge of the gun barrel in her side that stayed the sharp protest on the tip of her tongue when she saw Thaine nearly go down, but it didn't stop the flash of green defiance in her eyes. Bastards. She moved to his side in a blatant display of support, but didn't make a move to help him.

"Take them for processing," ordered Crix, with a sweep of an arm. "We should hear an order for their surrender any time now." He ran a finger along one of the consoles, as if looking for dust. He held it up to his face, and made a tut-tut noise with his tongue. "Disgusting," he said, shaking his head. "Absolutely disgusting."

---

"Shades of the Past, Part 2"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Captain T'Briane
Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 14h32

***

Tebrianne turned to Benedict, the only member of the crew she had any sort of connection to, the only person who might be able to help her regain control of the ship. "What can we do to get access back, Ben?"

As her eyes turned his way she saw the look in his eyes. The stone gaze. "Let her go. Now." He stepped from behind Tactical, his phaser now evident and pointing at her unerringly. "If it's really you...you know me better than that!"

Tebrianne looked down to the floor to where Lyrr lay, then back up to Benedict. "She's unconscious," she said. "It was just the nerve pinch." All of the Windsor's crew had their weapons trained on T'Kal, save Tebrianne's which was holstered at her waist. The blade she held, was at her side. She lowered her voice so that she hoped only he could hear. "Don't fight this, Ben. She'll hurt him. Really bad. You haven't seen it, but I have. I know what she's like...and...please...defiance is only going to make it worse. I know you, Benedict. Thoughts of you are the only thing that kept me sane 'ere. Please...cooperate for now, and there's a chance. Fight her, and your captain will live, but he'll wish he was dead, then she'll start on the rest of the crew. I can pretty much guarantee when she's done with him, she'll want to play with the second-in-command. Ben...?"

He stared at her, weighing her words. The five weapons trained on him were irrelevant, the look in her eyes was all too familiar and he knew that if he had to trust anyone it would be her. Salinger's life was in the balance, but so was his ship, but then faced with the overwhelming firepower of the Sovereign sitting in space...they were at this Captain T'Briane's mercy.

He turned his palm upward letting the phaser rest on his hand as he held it out. "I can't restore access," he said in Romulan. "Only she can," he said, nodding to Lyrr. "Don't hurt her again." He didn't expand on the statement, but it wasn't a plea. He still had his Kut'Luch concealed in the back of his sash.

"I didn't hurt her," Tebrianne returned in Romulan, as she moved closer and took the phaser from his hand. "She was only going to get more people hurt, including herself. Captain T'Briane has little patience and doesn't suffer failures well. Thankfully the regenerative medicine here is as good as it is back in the Federation. Ben, power has to be restored to this ship and we have to get underway and soon. You're in the Mirror Universe now, and something big is about to happen. Will you talk to her? Will you make her understand that the more she fights, the more of her people, the more her captain, will be hurt?"

"I'll talk to her." Now face-to-face with Tebrianne he knew it was really her. He wanted to reach out to touch her face and his hand barely moved before he stilled it. His violet gaze held hers though. "I...you were dead..." he whispered in Romulan. For the first time emotion cracked his voice. "Help me get her into the Ready Room?" he said in Standard. He needed to talk privately with her, and he needed to contact his TAC Team.

Tebrianne nodded to him, then looked over at Clarion. She flashed a couple hand signals, and the young woman nodded. "Come on, mate," she said, "let's get her moved." As they lifted Lyrr, she switched back to Romulan. "I was thrown."

He couldn't reply. He lifted Lyrr in his arms, not wanting Tebrianne to touch her. He held her protectively, and he eyed the other intruders for a moment, memorizing their positions. He nodded at Freebush, the security officer standing post by the turbo-lift door. She had one of the intruders pointing a weapon at her and wasn't doing anything foolish.

They walked to the Ready Room and the doors swished open. As they closed behind them, Benedict laid the unconscious Lyrr on the couch and turned back to Tebrianne. It was then she could see the pain in his eyes. "I don't understand.... You died...I know you died."

"When the explosion 'appened," Teb began, "I channelled all of my psionic...power, I guess, touch and otherwise, into a shove. I wanted to push Roallo and anyone else close enough clear of the explosion. What I 'adn't figured on, though, was that it would push me as well. Somehow, in all the parallel universes and dimensions, I landed in this one, same planet and everything. The ship orbiting at the time was the USS Windsor, not that one, but another, like our Windsor. She was Captain of it. Moved up quick she did from the Galaxy. It was bloody awful, Ben. But...but I lived. And...of all the ships in Starfleet to find me again, it's yours." She looked up at him, her deep brown eyes thoughtful, rimmed with unshed tears. She blinked them away and laughed. "It's...it's like...destiny."

"Karma neh?" He did reach out then, and his hand touched her cheek. It trembled. He wanted to say that he was sorry, that he should have held on a little longer, that he'd let her go, but he couldn't say a word. The tears brimmed in his own eyes and he looked away and took a shuddering breath. "Prophets...." He closed his eyes, his palm still resting upon her warm cheek.

Tebrianne closed her eyes and revelled in the touch. Tears did slide down her cheeks then, though there was no sorrow in them. "Ben," she whispered. "I missed you so much. To see you again...it's like that one Christmas, the one on Sigma Iotia. To be so cold, so alone, and then suddenly so beautifully smothered in warmth..."

The memory was like yesterday. He'd found her in rags in the snow, so cold and freezing. He'd carried her away from it, and now he felt that cold touch him like the memory. He drew her into his arms, unable to forsake her. He almost crushed her against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. The memories were thickly laid across his mind, the times that he had laid looking at her portrait at night wishing she were there, in his arms. Now as he held her he felt the ache in his heart. He'd let her go. How could he tell her that he loved Tayla? It was like a betrayal that cut him to the bone.

A groan from the couch pulled them apart, the moment witnessed by Lyrr through fogged vision, but not truly perceived while she fought against the throbbing ache in her skull. She clenched her eyes shut again as one hand came up to clutch her head, the bracelet around her wrist coming into view to mock Tebrianne.

Teb stared at the band circling Lyrr's wrist for a moment, then turned to Ben. She nodded briefly, sadly. "You should talk to her," she said softly.

Benedict let Tebrianne go as Lyrr groaned and he sat beside her to take her hand. "Tayla." His voice was still thick. He looked down at her, concern warring with confusion as he still reeled over Tebrianne's appearance. "We have to have access to the ship. Salinger's life depends on it - and so does the entire crew. We'll find a way to fight - but now isn't the time." He held her gaze while she made sense of the words, but he carried on. "This is Tebrianne. We have to trust her for now." His voice told Lyrr that he wasn't asking. He turned to Tebrianne. "Teb...." He took a deep breath. "This is Lyrr Tayla. My fiancée."

Tebrianne's jaw clenched as she fought to find words, and even though she'd found some that seemed fairly pleasant and happy, she couldn't make them come out. Finally, with something between a choke and cough, she could only nod toward Lyrr, an acknowledgement and hopefully what could pass for a truce. Then she glanced away.

Lyrr watched her with a hard stare, the tightness around her eyes betraying the headache she still battled. "I wish I could say it's a pleasure meeting you," Lyrr told her, "but under the circumstances...." Consciously, Lyrr squeezed Ben's hand, securing her hold on him and validating for Teb that the time for their relationship had long passed. "I want to know what your captain plans on doing with this vessel before I hand it over to her. I will not risk the lives of this crew, even if it means the captain's death at her hands."

"Tayla, we have no choice," Benedict answered for her. "We cooperate now or we face a Sovereign Class ship with no shields. They have Salinger and there's nothing stopping them taking you." His eyes were turned away from Tebrianne but his expression was clear. He wouldn't allow that and he squeezed her hand back. "There's only six of them on board right now. That's manageable. We cooperate for as long as it takes us to get back to fighting trim - then we get Salinger back and make a run for it. But for now...we aren't in a position to argue or set terms. Please, Tayla...one hundred and fifty lives depend on you right now...to make the right choice."

She listened to T'Kal's appeal, all the while studying Tebrianne intently. It wasn't difficult to instantly despise the woman, and not only out of possessiveness for T'Kal. She was the enemy in every way. "If I unlock system access," Lyrr said, "can you give your word that everyone on this vessel will remain unharmed? And," she added, "I will still hold the position of the Sulu's Executive Officer? I won't give up my chair, not if it means surrendering my ability to protect this crew."

Benedict turned to Tebrianne. "I'll abide by whatever orders she gives me," he said to her evenly. "She's the XO. It's my duty, but I'd do it because I love her too. So...what's it to be?"

Tebrianne focused on Lyrr, afraid to look into Ben's eyes and see the rejection there. "Commander, I give you my word that I will do everything I can, within my power, to protect the safety and health of this crew. I am and 'ave always been a Starfleet officer - that didn't change when I ended up here. Not to me, at any rate. I can't make any promises about T'Briane, but I can assure you that if this crew does its duty and doesn't openly defy her, she won't hinder us."

"Us?" Lyrr eyed her skeptically. "It remains to be seen, Ms. Bancroft, whose side you're truly on. But for now...I'll respect your word, if only because Commander T'Kal has asked me to." She rose, then, causing her head to spin and pound, but still she maintained her equilibrium. "I will remove the systems' security lockdown," she told Teb, looming over the woman. "But" --her voice dropped to a menacing whisper-- "if you ever pull a weapon on me again, expect to use it, and expect me to fight back. You're not welcome here, Ms. Bancroft, but don't make your position any worse by making an enemy of me. You'll regret it." She held the woman's steady gaze, giving the threat added gravity, then broke away and stalked from the ready room.

There were several blistering retorts that Teb would have loved to toss out after the doors had closed, but she knew that she could say none of them to Commander Lyrr's fiancé, no longer Ben. Finally she turned back to him and sighed. "She's a real charmer, Ben. And, the knife was a bloody decoy. Sleight of bloody hand, and that's all. You watch the knife because that's more dangerous, never realizing the other 'and will knock you flat with a little pinch."

"A knife is a knife...you know that," he said softly. He went to Matt's desk and sure enough the lock-down was reversed. He tapped on the screen and called up a secure internal link. "Lieutenant Casey, quietly gather the TAC Team and the equipment you'll need for a covert combat mission. Stay off the comm-badge frequencies and use the stealth packs. I want the team to disappear quietly. You know the drill. There are six hostiles on the Bridge at present and I want you in a position to neutralise them when the time comes. Stay covert until I call. Understood?"

"Aye, sir. Understood. Casey out." Lieutenant Casey threw a look to Chief Case in the Armoury. Both men started assembling what they needed quickly.

Benedict turned back to Tebrianne. "You'd better tell me what's going on. I don't want any surprises - as if you aren't the biggest surprise I've ever had. " He stepped closer to her and seemed to slump slightly. "Prophets, Teb...I was convinced you were dead. If I'd known...I never would have...." He gestured in futility at the door. "I'm sorry, Love."

Teb looked down, seeing only the lush carpeting of the Ready Room, and the tops of their boots, his regulation Starfleet, hers most definitely not. "This wasn't the homecoming I'd dreamed of," she said with a half-sob, half-laugh. "Well, the part with you in it was. I think Jules was always in the dream too, but...but really it was all you." She sighed heavily.

He nodded and once again he found himself embracing her, holding on and stroking her hair. "It's been five long years, Love," he whispered into her hair. "I used to dream that you were calling out to me from somewhere.... Prophets...I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry."

Tebrianne looked up into Ben's eyes and smiled. Then with a sigh, she sank against him again. She felt a happiness and joy she hadn't experienced in well over five years. "First thing we have to do," she whispered, "is get everyone home. And, I think we have a way to do that at the Gate. But, for now, just hold me for a little longer..."

---

"Playing the Odds"

Lieutenant j.g. Allison Jacobs; Medical Officer [NPC]
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Crewman Second Class Jennifer Hamilton; Operations Crewman [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Operations Office
Stardate: 57910.17 14h32

***

It was the second burst of incoming fire that turned Farrell's attention away from the softly whimpering Hamilton and the softly tut-tutting Jacobs and back to his screens. The shields were failing, and then came down completely.

He consulted his datastreams from the bridge. The sovereign-that-shouldn't-be was hailing, then a series of transporter spikes leapt across the void, and one leapt back. He texted the bridge comstation with a request for audio looping, and listened in when Mouse surreptitiously keyed him through.

--you'd agree that these aren't normal circumstances, an unfamiliar voice was saying, with a thick British accent. On a man, it would have been menacing. Of course, he couldn't see the woman. Think about your captain, because he will be the one paying the price for any insolences over 'ere. I know you must think this is all a real crock, but it'll only get worse if you fight it. Things aren't like what you're used to back in your own galaxy. People are cruel and vicious, they'll stab you in the back for no reason whatsoever. I learned it the 'ard way. If I can save you from even a little grief and suffering, please take my advice.

"What's going on?" Jacobs said from the floor where she was finishing Hamilton.

"We've been boarded," Farrell said quietly.

"Boarded?" Hamilton asked. "By who?"

"Whom," Jacobs corrected.

"Hush. Both of you," Farrell said, keying into the computer to get back to the earlier communications logs. What was going on? Lyrr was saying something, and using her access code.

The 'access denied' message on his panel was jarring.

"What's happening?" Hamilton was asking, next to him now, Jacobs looking over her shoulder.

"Lyrr just locked the ship down." Farrell sat back in his chair. "It's not a boarding. It's a capture."

The screams were loud and clear even through the comm.

"My god," Jacobs whispered.

Stop! called the cockney voice. I'll get access!

"My ass," Farrell said grimly. "Jen, lock the door."

His hands flew to the panel as Hamilton manually secured the door to the Ops office after sneaking a look out into the corridor. Data blitzed onto his screen as he searched for his target.

"What are you doing?" Jacobs asked.

"Comlogs," Farrell answered.

Screen after screen flew past. He'd been hip-deep in computer programming and communications schematics for weeks now, and had covered this sort of ground a few times already. He vaguely heard Hamilton and Jacobs whispering to each other behind him, and a mumbled conversation the bridge compickups couldn't catch.

"There," he said, just as T'kal said, Help me get her into the ready room.

"Who's in the ready room?" Hamilton asked.

"Hopefully we'll know in a second," Farrell muttered absently, assembling the last of his program and channeling it to a padd.

"How?" Jacobs asked. "We can't eavesdrop in the ready room."

"There's a communications pickup in the ready room," Hamilton offered, immediately dismissing the possibility. "But we can't access it. Everything's in lockdown."

"Time to roll the dice," Farrell said, lifting the padd. "Computer, lift lockdown protocol for this station only."

"State access code," the computer's dispassionate voice requested.

Farrell held the padd toward the compickup in the office and keyed it.

"Authorization Lyrr Alpha-seven," Lyrr's voice barked from the padd's speaker.

There was a pause, Farrell crossed his fingers, then, "Access denied."

"Damn," Farrell whispered through gritted teeth. Hamilton and Jacobs exhaled together.

"The computer's supposed to be able to spot recordings," Hamilton said.

"Yes it is," Farrell said. "But Lyrr always barks like that. I thought I had the inflection tweaked enough."

"You didn't think of this just now, did you," Jacobs said, suspicion evident in her voice.

Farrell looked at her. "What are you implying?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Well," Jacobs said, now a little embarrassed. "The rumors," she added lamely, then silenced herself.

Farrell stared at her angrily for a few moments. A chirp from his panel brought his attention back around.

"Access is back up," Hamilton said, pressing over his shoulder.

"The commander opened it back up?" Jacobs asked from over the other shoulder. "Why would she do that?"

Farrell thought aloud. "She wouldn't have done it in the first place if she hadn't been in command. Which means. . ."

"The captain's dead," Hamilton whispered. Jacobs' eyes widened.

"Dead or captured," Farrell said. "There was some back-and-forth with the transporters when the shields came down. He could be captured. Let's see what the deal is in the ready room."

--knife is a knife...you know that, T'Kal said from the panel speaker as Farrell keyed in. There was some shuffling and a chirp from the room, and soft speech.

"I can't hear him," Jacobs whispered.

"Shhh!" Hamilton shushed, straining to hear.

Farrell tried to boost the gain, but T'Kal was finished before he could complete the commands. He checked the logs, but T'Kal had used a secure link. No voicelogs would have been recorded.

Farrell bobbed his head and thought a moment, then keyed back into the logs of the conversation they couldn't make out. He spooled it back into the computer, boosted the gain on the recording, filtered it, and played it back:

Lieutenant Casey, quietly gather the TAC Team and the equipment you'll need for a covert combat mission. Stay off the comm-badge frequencies and use the stealth packs. I want the team to disappear quietly. You know the drill. There are six hostiles on the Bridge at present and I want you in a position to neutralise them when the time comes. Stay covert until I call. Understood?

"My god," Jacobs whispered again.

"What do we do?" Hamilton asked.

"We help as best we can. The ship's been captured," Farrell said. "The Tac-team's going to ground. But they can't stay that way for long."

"Why not?" Hamilton asked.

"If I were taking the ship," Farrell shot a glance at Jacobs, who blushed and looked away. "I'd make sure I had everyone contained. Which means odds are. . . they'll call roll."

He started keying furiously on the panel again. Hamilton just looked at Jacobs, who shrugged. Farrell was mumbling to himself about dice again.

"Case. . . Casey. . . Collins. . . "

The doorchime sounded outside the office. Hamilton and Jacobs looked at each other again.

"Hansen. . . Mullens. . ." Farrell hesitated. "Q,R,S," he reminded himself. "Rinaro. . ."

A pounding started on the door. "Sir?" Hamilton asked tentatively.

"Smith. . . Sorg. . .What the hell's he doing in sickbay?" Farrell cursed further at his panel and deleted something.

A hissing was starting from the other side of the door. "Sir, someone's torching through the door," Hamilton called.

"Half a minute," Farrell called, flying through the screens and tapping commands with all the speed he could muster.

"I don't think we have half a minute," Jacobs added.

"Just. A. Few. More. There," he called, keying the terminal off as sparks exploded from the door and dark-clad figures entered in a rush. All three threw their hands in the air and stood in surrender.

After a tense few moments, the wicked-looking guards marched them out of the corridor and to cargo bay 1. A number of crew were already there, milling around and making sure their fellows were alright.

"What did you do?" Hamilton whispered to Mason when they could move out of earshot.

"Nothing at all, Jen," Farrell said meaningfully. She nodded, and he smiled slightly to himself in the knowledge he had shorted the ship six crewmen, who would not be appearing on any manifest the invaders would ever see.

---

"Just One of the Crew"
By: Lieutenant Commander Jabari Zareb - Engineering Consultant
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer
and Doctor Ilan Potts - Assistant Chief Counselor

Location: Nightingale Cockpit in the USS Sulu Shuttlebay and Cargo Bay
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h33

***

Jabari Zareb patiently performed the pre-flight checks aboard the Nightingale dispassionately, at odds with the tension of the moment and the enormity that this decision represented for him and his ship.

His orders were clear in a boarding situation: He was to launch if able and scuttle the ship only if absolutely necessary. If launch was impossible, he was to set a destruct sequence and destroy the both the Nightingale and the Sulu. Those were his orders. To decimate the lives of a starship for years of work on experimental systems that wouldn't see the light of day.

Zareb got the console warning of the opening runabout door even before the gentle hissing reached his ears from amidships. He had ordered the security crewmen on duty to stand down and no one apart from the Nightingale crew should have been able to order the door open. That knowledge suggested to Zareb that his security might already be compromised and he began to tap out the destruct sequence into the ship's system.

"Sir?" came a voice from behind him, corresponding with the whoosh of the door.

Zareb spun on the sound, a phaser in his hand. Sanat Vijay froze in place and lifted his hands warily. Zareb didn't look like a man out of control - he never did - but it was best not to take chances. The large engineer still had one hand resting on the console.

"You are alone?" Zareb asked, eyeing the half-Vulcan carefully. He didn't lower the phaser.

Sanat managed not to raise his eyebrow lest it gave Jabari a reason to stun him first and then ask questions later; if the phaser was even set to stun. "Yessir. I saw the field down and wanted to check the runabout's security before our guests arrive."

Zareb lowered the weapons and hit a key with his other hand, deactivating the instant destruct. He turned away from Sanat without a word and settled back in his chair. He restarted the ship's pre-flight check.

The pilot lowered his hands and proceeded to watch Jabari's hand move across the soft-touch surface, pressing controls, initiating prelaunch checks. His eyes studied the input movements long enough to know what the engineering officer was getting ready to do. "They've taken Captain Salinger..."

"I am aware of that, Ensign," Zareb said evenly, not turning around.

He pressed, "Boarding parties are already on their way, Sir." There was a mild hint of agitation in Vijay's voice as if that should mean something to Zareb.

"I am aware of that as well." Zareb was focused on his work. At this point, he could have been talking about a dinner order.

"And yet, you are still going to abandon him...and us?" Sanat's tone was borderline incredulous-insubordinate as he tried to impress the gravity of the situation upon Jabari's conscience. Even his facial expression suggested that the lieutenant commander's actions were inappropriate.

"We all have our assigned duties, Mister Vijay," Zareb informed, swiveling in his chair. He looked at the young flight controller and tried to pass a comforting expression. "Yours is on another ship...not this one. I wish you good fortune."

Sanat watched in disbelief as the man turned away to continue his preflight inspections at the FCO's console. "And that's it?" He waited for him to turn around. "I know how you feel about orders, Sir. But what will be gained trying to fly out of here with a superior hostile ship sitting right off our stern?"

"You know better than anyone this ship's capabilities," Jabari said, calmly. It wasn't a mere boast - the Nightingale's chromophasic shell had a good chance of foiling weapons lock long enough for the ship to go to warp. The time and resources required to track the pulse signature negated any advantage the other ship might have in speed. Escape was hardly assured but was not an impossibility.

The younger officer riposted, "I know them all too well, 'Commander. But where do you think you can go in this universe? I doubt you can warp around it very long before another Windsor stumbles across you."

"If I cannot make it back to our reality," Zareb stood up and turned, "then at least I'll have ample opportunity to see to the Nightingale's destruction without risking the Sulu or her crew." Zareb made a motion to the door behind the young officer. "You should go, Mister Vijay. While there is still time."

"And that's gonna prove what? And to whom?" The ensign was staring directly into Jabari's eye now. "Is it possible, conceivable, that these orders don't apply in our current situation? How could Starfleet ever anticipate a situation like this?"

"It is a boarding situation, Ensign," Zareb said flatly, motioning to the door again. "The details are not really germane. My instructions are clear."

Sanat gestured to emphasize his next point. "So that makes it right? Remember our chat about the morality of following orders, Sir? Is it possible that your leaving the Sulu is a convenient excuse to relieve yourself of some moral obligation concerning us?"

"You need to understand this, Ensign," Zareb said, stepping closer to Sanat. He laid a hand on the younger officer's shoulder. "I have no moral obligation to the Sulu. I am not part of her crew. It is not up to me to save her." Zareb searched Sanat's eyes, knowing that the young officer knew the sinister side of duty as well as anyone. "Will you go now, Mister Sanat?"

The pilot stared back for several seconds ignoring Zareb's hand. "No, Sir, you don't. I guess neither do we for that matter." His inference meaning the same applied, only in the reverse for Jabari's situation aboard their ship. Sanat looked around the cabin one last time before turning back to address the engineering consultant once again, "Aye, Sir, I'll go. But I ask this boon of you should you make it home and we do not; that you personally contact each and every one of our families or relatives. Explain to them why you got home and we did not."

That seemed to hit home because Zareb lowered his arm from Sanat's shoulder. Vijay dipped his head and swiveled about to leave the Nightingale's darkened interior. "Sir." The pilot went as far as the hatch before saying over his shoulder, "I'm certain they'll understand your orders..."

***

"It's not that I have anything against meeting new people, you understand," Doctor Potts said, looking around the cargo bay. "I just don't much care for all the armor and agonizers and painsticks. It sends a very anti-social message, if you ask me."

Sanat mumbled something non-committal. Doctor Potts had been chewing on his ear ever since they'd been forced into line for Imperial processing. Ilan had pointed out every possible social quirk, sexual undertone as well as hairstyle of each Windsor Enforcer as they came and went gathering Sulu personnel for cataloging.

"Of course, I think it may be intentional," Potts continued, oblivious to his less than receptive audience. "I have to imagine that the instances of childhood trauma are quite high here in this reality. Hopefully, we'll be able to come to some common understanding with them and part on friendly terms."

He wanted to say something like, "Duh," but realized the meaning might be lost on the quirky Deltan and commented instead, "Possibly, it might be a good idea to play along...for a while."

"Agreed," Potts nodded, still searching the crowd. "However, I'm rather worried about some of our crew...more than a few of them aren't so likely to lay down for an invasion force, orders or not. I could see some of the security folks giving these visitors the what for and then some. And certainly Commander Zareb will have taken steps to protect his ship that may get him on the business end of an agonizer."

"I believe the 'Commander is..." Before Vijay could explain Zareb's decision to leave them, suddenly, in came Jabari by himself...without any Enforcers prodding him along with pain sticks to join the rest of the purloined crew. The big man's jaw was firmly set as though he'd come to an important decision about his fate and theirs. Sanat noted the stride of Zareb and its purposeful intent as he walked over to a line and waited with the rest of them.

Potts noticed Sanat noticing Zareb and squinted across the distance. "The Commander seems to have lost one of his pips. Should I point it out to him?"

Vijay grabbed Ilan's arm before he could shuffle off and do just that. "No Doctor, I don't think that's a good idea." The FCO made eye contact with Zareb and gave him a respectful nod; that said volumes by itself.

It seemed Starfleet still had a few good officers after all....

---

"Draining Sickbay's Venom"

By: Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Alexia Johnstone - Nurse
Ensign Amy Reese - Head Nurse
Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse
and Ensign Jotay - ISS Windsor Enforcer

Location: USS Sulu, Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.17, 14h36

***

Looking up from an LCARS display that went blank moments after her gaze left it, Doctor Sefton knew there was something wrong with the pair of individuals who entered Sickbay, before she knew what was wrong. Glaring through her office's extensive viewport into Main Sickbay, it took a full three seconds for her to recognise that the individuals weren't members of the Sulu's crew, but it only took her one and a half seconds to recognise that they were grossly over-armed with weaponry and armour.

"Computer, quarantine Sickbay's new entrants," Damhnait snapped. No forcefield coalesced. There was no computer response of any sort. Not even a negative response from the computer. Regardless, Damhnait scowled and briskly marched out of her office to commandingly ask, "Who. Are. You?"

The taller male looked the female medical officer up and down and then stepped closer. His phaser rifle lowered unthreateningly, but his expression was hard as stone before he smiled in a particularly evil manner. His eyes roamed Damhnait's body, resting upon her female attributes with a measured level of arrogant presumption. "Jotay, Ensign...and the next time you address me you will do so with politeness." His eyes went to her collar pips. Lieutenant Commander, so she was senior crew - and they were to be handled nicely. "I'm here to oversee this area. You will cooperate. You will go about your normal business. Any deviation, threat or act contrary to what I want to happen in here, and I'll make sure that someone in here who's suitably helpless will suffer the consequences of your actions.. understood?" His eyes had rested upon one of the patients for a moment, directing his threat at those under the woman's care. Jotay knew all the angles when it came to making threats. He could tell by the arrogance and the rank that a personal threat would be less effective than threatening the welfare of her charges. He saw the look in her eyes change and knew that he'd guessed correctly. This was going to be too easy.

The shifting look in Damhnait's eyes settled on boredom, as she overheard his longwinded mental diatribe. Her tone was even, almost genial, in telling him, "Your actions are your own, sir. I hold no responsibility for them, regardless of any justification you may put forth. Now, if you are finished threatening unconscious patients, I have normal business to conduct. May I attend to it?"

Jotay smiled. "Sure. Now I want you to gather all of your staff and go to Cargo Bay One. Patients who are immobile can stay here. You can assign one medical officer to stay and look after them." He grinned, "Not you. When you're processed you'll be allowed to resume your duties."

"I would not direct my staff to go anywhere, were I not willing to lead them there myself," Sefton said, only offering Jotay a bland expression. To the female Caitian doctor, Damhnait said, "M'lira," in such a way to instruct her to remain with the patients.

Alexia looked up at the sound of the door to sick bay opening. She watched Dr. Sefton speaking to the new arrivals and knew there could be trouble. She had just returned to sickbay from her triage point in Cargo bay 6 where she had been sent with Ensign Kremer earlier. There really hadn't been a need for them there, so they had returned to their respective points of duty. Now, she was wishing she had stayed in Cargo bay 6! She kept quiet, hoping she wouldn't be noticed in the background, and continued on with her duties.

Damhnait continued making eye contact with each member of her staff, and subtly gestured each of them to converge around the Enforcers. Her staff would comply, and she knew she could trust them to behave without performing acts of desperation or stupidity -- also known as acts of bravery. If the heavily armed and trained Enforcers felt like bullying unarmed doctors on a disabled ship, that was their prerogative.

The first to join Doctor Sefton by Sickbay's exit, Cristobel took on his mother's tone, a sort of polite but blasé defiance, to ask, "What's processing?"

"They want to identify each of us," Damhnait immediately answered, already in tune with the Enforcers' thoughts. "They'll take note of the useful ones -- because they obviously need many of us for something -- and will neutralize the overtly threatening ones."

A fearful gasp from beside them brought Amy Reese into view - she'd unobtrusively cowered near them and now gripped the sleeve of Cris' uniform for security. "Neutralize?" she whispered. "What-- What's that mean?"

Cristobel spun to fully face Amy and led her a couple of steps away from the congregation. He whispered back, "Take away whatever makes them threatening, I think. Weapons, for instance, or-- Amy, how are you doing?"

"F-Fine," she answered uncertainly, then added, "I'm afraid...but I can function. Will a hypo full of kayolane help?" Amy smiled proudly at Cris.

"Help with what?" Cris whispered with more uncertainty than Amy had displayed.

Amy frowned, and timidly answered, "Neutralizing?"

The rest of the medical staff - many of them from other shifts who hadn't left after the red alert - arrived at the exit to Sickbay. Their bodies provided extra insulation between the two nurses and the Enforcers.

"We're not going to help them neutralize our own people," Cristobel strongly insisted without raising his voice. "But we can't neutralize them either. We have to treat them like... like you treat Annikafiore. They get a modicum of respect because they're officers - and because they have big scary guns - but otherwise, they don't exist."

Amy lowered her head, thoroughly lost on the concept. "So...we go about our business and show them that we're not afraid?"

"Exactly," Cristobel asserted, his certainty mostly borrowed from his mother. "If we show them that we are afraid, they will go home and manually pleasure themselves because of that mental image."

Her expression was a mixture of amusement and horror as the thoughts played out in her mind. She took a moment to shudder, then collected herself and nodded dutifully at Cris. "I can do that, Crissy. A-And before anything else...I'm really glad you're in this with me."

Cristobel took Amy's hand, and moved to her side to face in the same direction as the rest of the staff, as they began to file out of Sickbay. "We'll get through this. We'll get home," he told her confidently, but his eyes betrayed his ambiguity at her words. He idly wondered if she was telepathic, because of a list of arguments he was beginning to sort out in his head. At the moment, the list only contained a seven-letter word.

---

"Making Demands"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla
Captain T'Briane
Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Lt. Commander Sam

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 14h43

***

"My officers will not give up their weapons," Lyrr stated with finality, "just as yours won't." She smirked at the woman on the viewscreen, the twin to the doppelganger still in the Ready Room with Ben. Lyrr's gaze shifted again to the sealed doors, awaiting their egress before her paranoia got out of hand. The time for jealousy was hardly now, and Lyrr reminded herself of just that, but that did not preclude her from wondering what had the two so occupied. By T'Briane's raised eyebrow, and her own languid glances towards the Ready Room, Lyrr suspected she was thinking the same. "A truce," Lyrr announced in an attempt to divert the woman's attention. "My men won't fire upon yours, and vice versa. That would accomplish little, don't you agree?"

"Commander Lyrr, you are a very charming woman, I assure you," T'Briane sneered, "but you are my prisoner. Your entire ship is mine. You still sit in that bloody chair at my sufferance. Do not ever think that you are in a position to bargain with me, because you most certainly are not. Your people will turn over their weapons, or I shall beam them to my ship and have them forcibly removed." She narrowed her deeply-darkened eyes. "And, you definitely won't approve of my methods. Your ship is an asset gained, not a necessity. If you begin to cost me time, I will just turn you into space slag. Do you understand?"

Lyrr smiled flatly, and bowed her head in false deference, while her fingernails dug into her armrests. "It will be done, Captain. Now if you'll allow, we need to focus on repairs. I'm certain anything more you need from us will be relayed by Ms. Bancroft?"

"Commander," T'Briane said as she leaned close to the viewscreen, "in case you defy me again, which part of your captain would you wish to have sent back to you?"

"Preferably all of him intact," Lyrr replied coldly.

"That will be entirely up to you and your crew, Commander," T'Briane said with a cruel smile. "Your actions will determine how many pieces 'e's returned to you in. You might want to take a cold shower, Love, or you may end up getting something back that looks like quite the science experiment."

Lyrr remained silently clenching her jaw and staring down their vainglorious captor. She would relish choking the smug grin from her face, but she was hardly in a position to yet. Their unwavering gazes shifted to the Ready Room doors as they parted; Lyrr rose quickly as the two exited.

"Engineering teams 'ave started working on getting systems restored to full capacity, Captain," Tebrianne called out as she moved to the center of the bridge. "Lt. Crix assures me we'll be able to go to warp within the hour."

"Splendid," T'Briane said. "You'll see to things there, my pet? Good. Now, see that Lyrr gets something to soothe her before she chokes on her own venom sac."

Lyrr glowered, but knew enough not to speak - Lieutenant Tagliesh's stifled sobs were a reminder of who would pay for her insolence.

The screen winked out, then was replaced by the rather foreboding view of the Windsor with all her arsenal aimed at the much smaller Sulu. Tebrianne looked and shuddered. She took a step toward the captain's chair, and nodded to Lyrr. "Commander."

Lyrr snorted wryly and moved aside to grant Teb the seat she had her eyes on. "Don't get comfortable," she warned her, then settled into her own chair.

"Commander Lyrr," Tebrianne said calmly, "Ready Room. Clarion, you have the bridge." With that, Tebrianne turned and started toward the Ready Room she had just left.

Lyrr raised an eyebrow at Ben, who was standing by the command well, and emitted an amused chuckle. "Is she serious?"

"Deadly," Benedict nodded. In Bajoran he added, "Trust her. I do. There's no need to be her enemy. Treat her with respect, Tayla, she deserves that, and don't ever worry about where my loyalty lies. I love you, that hasn't changed and it never will. She just has to get used to the fact that she died five years ago and I moved on. Don't hold her feelings for me against her. Please?"

Sighing grudgingly, Lyrr rose. "I'll only trust her as long as you do," she told him, switching to Bajoran as well to maintain their privacy. "And right now," she added, "this has nothing to do with your relationship. We can discuss that later." Lyrr gave him a clipped nod, then strode for the Ready Room. "You have the bridge, Sam," she called, then was gone.

Benedict traded a look with Sam and walked up to the android operations manager. Leaning down close Benedict gave a look around the Bridge at the intruders who watched everyone. "We need to find out where they are holding the captain. Is there any way you can find that out without alerting the Windsor?" he whispered.

"Not at the current time," Sam answered. "They are still quite wary, and our systems are not yet fully restored."

"Okay work on it for later then. We'll also need their console code to drop their shields and the analogue code they rotate their shield frequencies on...if you can get them." He smiled and stood, not wanting to appear too suspicious. He looked to Clarion in the Command Chair. The young girl seemed far more self assured than the Remica Clarion he'd known on the real Windsor.

Benedict stepped up to the Tactical station, stepping past one of the intruders who eyed him with caution. He fervently prayed that Case and Casey were securing the weapons they would need later - the Bajoran Security Chief was sure that six men would not be the only contingent beamed aboard the Sulu, and the TAC team would have to act fast to smuggle weapons and the Maquis sensor inhibitors to a safe and hidden location.

In the ready room, Lyrr stood with hands clasped behind her back, staring past Teb at Matt's viewport. "Is there a problem, Ms. Bancroft?" she asked.

"There is," Tebrianne said flatly. "Unless you wish for this all to come crashing down and failing, you had better start showing me the respect a commanding officer of a starship deserves out there. I don't want to punish you and I don't want to hurt you, but public appearances will 'ave to be maintained out there. If you push me too far, I'll be expected to punish you, or 'ave one of my people punish you. Contrary to whatever you may believe about me, I don't want to do that. I don't want to be forced to try to hurt you, Commander. We 'ave a job to do out there, and your petty anger and spite is going to endanger everything."

"A job?" she echoed skeptically. "Forgive me if I'm not instantly trusting of you, Ms. Bancroft, but I'm not fully convinced that our goals are the same. For all I know, you could be doing exactly what your captain sent you here to do: exploit your relationship with Ben to gain our cooperation. Considering I have no current ties with you, not as Ben does, I have the luxury of not being fully trusting of your intentions."

"You are a cold, heartless woman," Tebrianne breathed. "I am Lieutenant Commander Tebrianne Bancroft, Starfleet Officer of the United Federation of Planets, adopted and raised by Captain George and Victoria Bancroft, stepsister to Admiral Michael Bancroft. I was raped and had explosives strapped to my body in the line of duty, and have been lost in this sanity-forsaken hell for the last five years. I just want to go home, Commander. And, this is the first chance I've 'ad. Please...work with me, and stop fighting me."

Teb's nearly touching speech tempered Lyrr's bitterness marginally, as did Ben's previous assurances, but still she remained unsympathetic to her pleas. "Commander Bancroft," she said, gentler now, "if you were in my position, would you, too, not be wary? We've been thrust into a universe not our own, boarded by enemy forces, and we have no idea what our fates are to be, so forgive me if I'm not yet willing to trust you." Lyrr held up a finger to stay Teb's reply, and added, "But Ben has asked me to. For him, I will try, and only for him."

"If you truly are a Starfleet Officer," Tebrianne said softly, "I'd consider another reason: for your captain, this crew, this ship, and the fate of the entire Federation of Planets. I am in command of this starship. My words are law. You will not countermand or correct me in public. You will not mock me or make snide remarks at my expense. This is not bleeding ego for me, Commander. I have been trained for this. This is no power trip; this is survival. If you want to survive, you're going to have to swallow some of your pride for the sake of all. The act we play out there has to be convincing. If you wish to remain First Officer, you have to be my First Officer. If we fail, we will both die. The rest probably after, but I assure you she will make sure that he witnesses it. I do not covet yours or Captain Salinger's chairs. I just want to finally go home."

"As do I," Lyrr concurred. "But that means, privately, you have to inform me of everything that is going on here. I want to know where we are, I want to know what that woman wants with this ship and its crew, and I want to know how we got here and how to get back." Constricting her hands painfully behind her back to summon the humility necessary, Lyrr asked, "Will you help?"

"Of course," Tebrianne said. "I'll meet with you and Ben during Gamma shift. It'll 'ave to be somewhere that isn't too suspiciously secret and isn't too open. We can't hold open staff meetings with the Windsor crew aboard. Or if they do allow it, there will need to be at least two from the Windsor present. Most likely me and another."

"You're the captain now," Lyrr drawled with the barest of smirks. "You decide who sits in with us and who doesn't. Or have you overexaggerated how much power you truly have in this situation?" Shrugging, Lyrr released her hands and let them fall to her sides at ease. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I wish to get out there and begin the repair process. I also think the rest of the ship needs to know what's happening."

"Repairs are already started," Tebrianne said. "Lt. Crix is working with your Lt. Thaine while we speak." She leaned close to Lyrr. "I may be captain of this ship, but you have no idea what being a captain of a ship here is like. If you consider yourself paranoid and untrustworthy, magnify it by one hundred, and you might come close to what the average inhabitant of this little pocket of cosmology is like. Everyone carries a blade, and many wake up with someone else's blade between their shoulders or sternum. You don't like someone, slice. You think someone's stealing from you, stab. You think the person in command isn't telling you everything, cut. Captains self-promote, usually on the corpse of the previous captain. That's how T'Briane got the Windsor away from Valiant." She leaned close. "This place is dark and twisted, evil and sadistic. If you're not scared, you're daft. Don't dismiss everything I'm saying out of hand, Lyrr, because I've lived it for the last five years. I know what this place is, and it terrifies me."

"That's unfortunate," Lyrr replied. "But I really don't plan on being here long enough to experience firsthand what you describe. I plan on returning to our universe," she told her fervently, "I plan on finishing this expedition, then I'm going to Bajor, and I'm going to marry Benedict T'Kal." Lyrr shrugged lightly and smiled. "Now, shall we go back out there and make that possible...Captain?"

Tebrianne nodded, and looked toward the bridge. "Aye," she said. "Dismissed. It's past time to be getting home."

Lyrr nodded stiffly and took her leave. It was going to take some time getting used to obeying orders from a Lieutenant Commander, and especially that particular one.

***

Tebrianne Bancroft, captain of the now-ISS Sulu for the ship would soon be joining up with the rest of the Galactic Empire's fleet, flopped down into the captain's chair on the bridge. She flipped open the armrest and accessed the controls within.

"Attention all hands," she said, her voice reaching out over the length of the entire ship. There was no where her voice would not reach, and all would soon know the fate that had befallen them. "I am Commander Tebrianne Bancroft of the ISS Windsor; I am taking command of this vessel. Your captain, Captain Matthew T. Salinger, is being 'eld aboard the Windsor to ensure the loyalty and obedience of this crew. Enforcers from the Windsor will be placed throughout this ship, as an added incentive to play nice. You will be allowed to continue your duties, allowed to perform as you have been trained, but any resistance to the new command structure will be harshly dealt with.

"This ship is now part of the Rihansu Fleet, under the flagship of Captain T'Briane. Obedience will be rewarded. Disloyalty will be punished. You all now serve the Empire. All department heads, I want repair estimates brought to me immediately. Tebrianne out." Tebrianne shut off the intercom, masking the disgust she felt. She just hoped no one tried to make her play her part to the fullest.

---

"Combat? What's that?, Part 3"
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: Sensor Core, Deck 2, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17 15h00

***

Totally unaware of what was going on around, Vincent was completely absorbed in his work until a faint announcement came over the ship's system. He could barely make it out but Vincent thought he heard the captain say something about surrendering. He looked around the cramped space and noticed several questioning and stunned looks among the other personnel.

Wondering what had happened and what he had missed Vincent straightened up and was in the motion of walking over and asking one of the Security personnel what the big issue was. Before he could do anything the sound of thumping boots greeted his ears. The sheer volume and military precision of the steps told Vincent that this was not going to be any ordinary Starfleet officer. He was correct.

A middle-aged military officer entered the Sensor Room. His brisk precision and the gleam in his eyes were sharp despite his age. He was dressed in a dark uniform with an insignia on his chest that was unfamiliar to Vincent. Vincent could see that the man was graying at the temples under his stiff uniform hat. The officer, for given his stature he could be no less, was immediately flanked by a swarm of heavily armed soldiers. They too had the same uniform and insignia. As well they had the same precision and look in their eyes, although it was duller than the officer's, Vincent could clearly see those qualities.

Something told Vincent that this was not your standard Starfleet action, even if the Sulu's actions could be counted as standard. Somehow, by a deep buried instinct, Vincent carefully hid his injured arm, letting it hang at his side normally despite the pain it caused him. He was tensed and ready for any attack. Still he could help but think of the previous announcement he had missed.

The senior officer addressed the Starfleet personnel and instantly Vincent received the shocking news. The Sulu had surrendered and the personnel were to be escorted to the cargo bays, not knowing what was going to happen to them. Vincent's shouldered slump and he complied being led out by the soldiers.

All throughout the trip to the cargo bays, Vincent felt an almost permanent presence of a weapon at his back. Once he paused briefly and he felt a sharp pain on his injured arm. Suppressing a cry, Vincent gritted his teeth and carried on.

Upon entering Cargo Bay 2, the air became noticeably heavier, as though the Sulu's defeat and the psychological low had manifested itself into a physical presence. He saw the Sulu's personnel being herded into groups and generally confined. A quick scan of the faces showed a depression of sorts - a vast difference from the heightened morale of no more than an hour ago.

Herded into a small group in the corner, Vincent still hid his injured arm. Now not knowing what was to occur to him, his comrades and the Sulu, Vincent let out a heavy sigh. Vincent sank down, resting against the wall, staring blankly at the face of that senior military officer, who was now barking orders and stroking his beard. He had barely noticed his name being marked off on a register as well as being frisked and scanned. They were being treated as prisoners. Because that was what they were now, Vincent realized. Prisoners.

The senior officer began to address the crowd.

---

"Man in Motion"
By: Commander Lyrr Tayla; Executive Officer
Crewman First Class Rett Charla; XO's Yeoman

and Lt. Commander Tebrianne; Acting Captain

Location: USS Sulu, Bridge
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h00

***

"Crewman Rett?"

Lyrr Tayla spied the elderly officer standing absolutely still and inconspicuously in one corner of the bridge, attempting to wedge himself into the corner and disappear As she crossed the way from the ready room towards him, one of the armoured guards watched her closely, but made no move yet to intercept her. She called to her yeoman again, hoping the sound of her voice would snap him from whatever trance had seized him. Only when she was standing before him did he look up. A smile was offered to relax him. "Mr. Rett?" she said gently.

"Sir?" he answered, his voice schooled calm in spite of the vein pulsing at his temple.

Lyrr's hand settled onto his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You won't be harmed," she told him, reverting to Bajoran for the sake of privacy. "If you wish, I can ask Lt. Commander Bancroft to keep you on the bridge. But," she added meaningfully, "I'd rather you were...free to roam the ship and perhaps encounter some of your fellow crewmates."

He thought carefully about that, the effort calming him. "And should I have such an encounter, sir," he asked softly. "Shall I pass along any words of encouragement to the crew?"

"Of course," Lyrr replied with a smile to show her appreciation for his sharp observational skills. "Tell them no one has been harmed here, that the captain and I still live.... I'm sure Mr. Farrell would be your best choice for getting the word around." Her surreptitiously executed nod was conspiratorial, and her smile encouraging. "If anyone can, I know he can certainly find a way to inform the crew, especially with certain talents in his possession, and resources."

"Indeed, sir," Rett said, his placid demeanor back in place. "Shall I report directly to you, then, sir?"

"Of course," Lyrr answered. "I would be lost without my dedicated assistant." Her smile was warm. It faltered slightly when her peripheral vision detected one of the stationed guards edging closer. There was but little time to relay her hidden message. "Tell Mr. Farrell he has leave to put his skills to whatever use he desires. And...and tell him I would very much like to hear from him." Lyrr nodded slowly to urge Rett's comprehension along. "Can you tell him that?" A call from the black-clad soldier pulled Lyrr's eyes briefly away from Rett, but quickly her focus shifted back to him. "Tell me you can, Rett...please."

"Certainly, sir," Rett gave his usual slight bow.

Lyrr watched the meek old man scurry away, giving the approaching guard a wide berth, who followed him with an inexorably vicious stare. Lyrr diverted his attention to her by moving into the soldier's line of sight. His frown deepened.

"I've sent him on a survey task," she explained imperiously, conveying an impression of deigning to apprise him of something that was hardly his concern. "He'll return soon enough."

"He," the man nearly growled, "will be contained with the rest of you rabble in the cargo bay." He shouted a name, and one of the other guards detached from his post standing sentry at the door to seize Rett.

Lyrr surged forward with a holler, but was shoved back by the hulking man, forceful enough that she distinctly felt the impression of his hand still throbbing against her chest; too proud to massage the pain away, Lyrr merely sneered.

"Release him," she snapped.

The one corner of his lips peaked in a brutish grin; the others standing guard shared in his amused chuckle. "Sit down, woman," he ordered through a gritted smile.

Lyrr's smile, in turn, was hardly pleasant. "I will not," she informed him. "And as Executive Officer in charge, you will release that man or you will be punished."

The more she spoke, the larger his grin became, and the tighter his grip upon the painstick grew. Their eyes locked, each attempting to stare down the other. Neither wavered, and the rising tension threatened to fulminate until a familiar voice neutralized it. Lyrr's mounting aggression was replaced by annoyance when her "saviour" came into view. She suppressed a wry smirk.

"Ensign Carter," Tebrianne Bancroft said as she came up behind him, "your behaviour is inappropriate for my command." She stalked up behind him and twisted her leg behind his, kicking both of his legs out from underneath him. The move caught him off guard, sending him sprawling onto his back. "P'raps you'd like a bit of a turn in the Agonizer Booth to help sort your thoughts on how Enforcers should be conducting themselves under my authority." With a shink her blade came free, heavy and curved and gleaming in the light of the bridge. Its honed edge aimed at the one who held Rett, still squirming. "Unless you blokes want to take over the day to day operation of this scow, I suggest you leave the crew to do their jobs." She adjusted the angle of the blade. "That is, unless this is your way of challenging my command 'ere."

There was clear resentment in the man's eyes, and much of it was directed at Tebrianne. His reaction indicated he wasn't enthusiastic about taking orders from a woman a quarter of his size, but dynamics of the authority hierarchy under which he was trapped obligated him to do so. He rose smoothly from the ground, and with a gruff snort, and a cutting glare for Lyrr, he slapped the functional end of the painstick into his palm and backed away. The other guard unhanded Rett.

"You can leave, Crewman," Lyrr urged him gently. "Be sure to report in once your assignment is complete."

"Yessir," Rett bowed his head again deferentially, and scurried away without making eye contact with anyone.

With the situation diffused, Lyrr was left standing face-to-face with Teb. She cleared her throat, and offered a brief smile of gratitude. "A very...imposing weapon that blade is."

Tebrianne glanced at her blade, then returned it to the sheath strapped to her thigh. "More so to those who've had a chance to see it in action," Tebrianne said with a smile. "Words aren't as impressive to them as actions. I'm not proud of it, but I've had to use it. They know I know how to use it, and it keeps them distant. It's got a great weight to it, and the blade could nearly cut durasteel. Well, not really, but close. My father had several like it in his collection."

"I see that you share Ben's appreciation for such weaponry," she noted with detectable discomfort. "But if it's effective in keeping Crewman Rett on as my yeoman, I won't disapprove."

"It was an appreciation before I ever met 'im actually," Teb said. "My father, George Bancroft, he 'ad quite the collection. Swords, knives, and the like. Mostly earth stuff though. I never 'ad much of a collection myself, but this will be the first piece in mine when I..." She lowered her voice. "...when I get home."

Lyrr's sympathies were again inspired by Teb's desire for freedom, and an innocence Lyrr feared. This petite, otherwise unimposing figure presented a threat Lyrr felt herself incapable of neutralizing, no matter how strongly Ben loved her. It frightened her more than the possibility of death at the hands of their captors. Clearing her throat gently, Lyrr said, "Rett must be allowed to return to the bridge freely. He's a timid man, and I don't want him frightened in any way."

"I'll make certain all the enforcers know if they hinder him in any way, they'll have to deal with me," Tebrianne said. "And, as far as I know, there's only one of them who doesn't actually fear that. But, there are other ways of dealing with him."

"Then I'll let you handle that." Lyrr bowed her head slightly, as close to expressing gratitude as she could allow. Tebrianne's cooperation was the first true sign of how genuine her intentions were, but there was still a long way to go before she fully gained Lyrr's trust. For Rett's sake and safety, she hoped Tebrianne's motives were pure for the time being.

---

"Assembly"
Senior Lieutenant Hadek
Windsor Security Enforcers

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h30

***

The crew were assembling slowly, being herded into the Cargo Bay as a group of heavily armed enforcers surveyed them. Hostility seethed in the bay, it was palpable. The Sulu's security officers were automatically placing themselves between the aggressors and the crew. It seemed an unspoken agreement; if it became violent they would take the brunt of it first. A few of them were staring at the ten enforcers spaced out to provide maximum fire coverage.

The Windsor enforcers knew what they were doing; all the angles were covered and the likelihood of any turnabout for this capture was slim. Now wasn't the time. One look at the armoured intruders showed not only that they weren't thugs but that they were professional killers. Their stares were uncaring, their mannerisms arrogant and self-assured, and there was a palpable air of danger about them.

A senior Enforcer was standing with two others looking through a list on a padd. It was the Sulu's crew manifest. Another team were going through the ship securing the decks and scanning for any hidden crew members. It was being done quickly and efficiently. Senior Lieutenant Hadek's security team were well versed in boarding vessels and looking for Alliance renegades.

As the crew crowded into the Bay the Senior Enforcer scanned the list and noted several names that he wanted to particularly look at. He had to process them all, check them against the manifest, search them for weapons and make sure they all knew the rules.

A head count was taken against the current manifest list and Ensign Kas informed him that the whole crew was gathered. He nodded and stepped forward, looking across the assembly.

"My name is Senior Lieutenant Hadek. You are here to be processed and welcomed into the Glorious Empire. If you obey, do your duty and remain calm this will not be an unpleasant experience. Make trouble and you'll learn intimately the meaning of pain. Trouble-makers will be fitted with an agonizer collar. My Enforcers will deal harshly with anyone inciting an incident. Serious or flagrant breaches of order will result in the death penalty. My Enforcers are to be obeyed. Immediately and completely. You will not gather or meet in any location outside of the Mess Hall. You will be supervised. Your replicators and holodecks will be made unavailable and you will eat only in the Mess Hall during your assigned Mess Hall break. You will work your assigned shift and you may spend your own time as you see fit. We are not cruel masters. But we can be!"

He paced. Hadek's short dark beard was split by a grim smile and his slanted black eyes surveyed the Starfleet Officers. "There can be rewards serving in the Terran Empire. Your service will not go unnoticed. You are in our universe now. You will abide by our rules. Captain Bancroft rules this ship. Disobey her orders and suffering will be the order of the day. Do not test me. Do not disobey."

He stepped closer to the largest and meanest of the Sulu's security officers. Kaven Lucas stood his ground, his tattooed face sneered down at the Senior Enforcer. "Learn respect," Hadek said as his hand whipped out with a pain stick. Kaven was waiting for it. His hand caught the baton before it touched him and his muscular arm quivered as he held it away from his body. Kaven's eyes didn't waver from Hadek's. Hadek grinned as he discharged the rod. Kaven's hand spasmed closed around the suddenly live baton and he screamed as the pain stick used his nervous system to inflict excruciating pain. The big man dropped to his knees unable to let go of the rod and curled in a ball as he screamed almost inhumanly.

Hadek just looked at the crew as his Enforcers pointed rifles to cover them all. Kaven Lucas screamed so loud that silence reigned in the cargo bay. He shuddered and spasmed but was still unable to let the baton go.

Lucas finally lapsed into silence as his consciousness left him. Hadek flicked the baton off and the security officer's hand dropped to the floor.

"I believe my point is made," Hadek said in a menacing growl. "Think on this. Remember the lesson." He pointed at the closest person. "You will step forward, state your name and provide a DNA sample for verification. You will be given a work assignment and you will be searched. You will surrender any personal items that may pose a threat. You will do this in an orderly manner and you will go to your work assignment. Your officers will remain in charge, nothing will change for you unless you make it so."

---

"Counselor, Your Ship Has Just Been Hijacked By Residents Of The Mirror Universe, What Are You Going To Do Now?"

Lt. Brennyn Scott, RN
Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Bridge; Ready Room, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h30

***

As in a very bad dream, events on the Sulu's bridge seemed to unfold in slow motion. One moment Bree was holding her breath as they engaged the Seeblin in battle, and the next moment she had become a spectator in one of the strangest events she was sure to witness in her Starfleet career; namely the abduction of her captain, the hijacking of her ship, and the formation of a love triangle that included two "psychologically-challenged" individuals and one ghost-who-was-not-really-a-ghost.

Were she in a joking mood, she might have remarked that it was events like these that reminded her why it was she should never accept bridge duty in the first place. The gash on her forehead sustained during the battle prevented her from even having that as a fleeting thought.

So what was she going to do now? It certainly wasn't going to involve sitting pretty and waiting for someone to tell her what to do. She might not have had much command experience, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to conclude that having boyfriend confront ex-fiancée, confronting current fiancée was a recipe for objectivity.

Lyrr and T'Kal were good officers, but they weren't known for their amiability, especially when it came to command strategies. Scott didn't have to be present to have a sense of what was going on. Lyrr was ready to blast her way out of this and resist at every turn, and Ben, well, Ben was probably the guy trying to find the middle ground. How does one handle the shock of a lifetime and still keep one's head?

Bree knew T'Kal was fighting that now. If she hadn't seen Ben practically go weak in the knees upon seeing the woman claiming to be Tebrianne Bancroft, Brennyn still knew what the Chief Of Security was dealing with; she'd seen it in his eyes as he'd carried Tayla into the Ready Room. And Tebrianne, if this was indeed the Tebrianne, was operating from a set of experiences that Scott knew a little something about. Right now, Bree didn't know if the woman was friend or foe, only that she had been taken hostage herself and had been raped and beaten before her supposed demise.

If there was a way to ascertain her current mental state and loyalties, there might just be a way to work things out in a way that ensured things didn't spiral out of control. Having a more neutral third party present certainly wasn't going to hurt the situation. And so she advised Ilan and Ainsley to continue to comply with the Enforcers' demands and to treat the wounded, and to do what they could to calm the rest of the staff and crew.

Things had seemed to settle down for now, and the bridge had returned to as much normalcy as possible. She watched Lyrr and Tebrianne, trying to figure out what would happen with them. She could feel the tension in the air, and if something didn't happen soon, it could get bad. She sat up straighter as she watched them disappear into the Ready Room. She watched the closed door for several minutes before deciding she couldn't just sit still any longer.

Under the watchful eye of the Enforcers present on the bridge, Bree stood from her station and made her way toward the Ready Room, slowly, casually, hands open for all to see. As far as they were concerned, she was a bored medical or science officer looking for something to do. "I'm a medical officer, I'd like to make sure my First Officer's alright. I assure you, I'm no threat to you."

She staggered some (which to her dismay was not so much of a ruse as it was a result of being tossed around) and she held out her hands to show she posed no threat. For all her fire, Bree was still petite and more wiry than athletic. From the looks of their captors, Bree wouldn't stand a probe's chances in a black hole of overpowering one of them.

The man eyed her warily, as if sizing her up, and for a moment Bree thought playing the medical card was only going to force her some place else, but the intruder finally nodded. "Make it quick."

Scott nodded her head once and made her way to the doorchime. Hitting it once, she heard both Lyrr and Tebrianne simultaneously give her permission to enter. The doors opened and Bree remained on the threshold. "May I join you?"

"I guess you've come all the way across the bridge to talk," Tebrianne said from where she sat at Matt Salinger's desk, booted feet propped up on the corner, "be a shame to turn you away without a chat. Come in."

Bree was surprised, but decided not to question it. "Thank you. I would like to talk, but I also came here to see if Commander Lyrr was alright. I think Matt keeps a medkit here somewhere." She wouldn't dare eye Lyrr directly just yet, but hopefully she had calmed down enough to understand what was happening.

"I'm fine," Lyrr answered irritably. "Do I look like I'm ailing from something? Aside from an overabundance of unwelcome guests." She directed the barest of glances in Teb's direction.

"Just be 'appy you have me here, and not someone else," Teb answered. "I can think of a few T'Briane could have sent who wouldn't be quite so cheerful."

"As long as they are a little more respectful," Lyrr retorted, frowning at her feet resting on Matt's desk.

"Mate, I'm the most respectful person you'll find in all of the Mirror Universe," Tebrianne answered. "You still don't get it, do you? I'm the only bloody thing standing between you and complete enslavement at the hands of Captain T'Briane. I'd think you could be a little more respectful of me."

"I would be if you'd get your damned feet off Captain Salinger's desk," Lyrr replied hotly.

"I'm being careful to only put my feet where there are already scuffs," Teb said. She pointed. "See. Okay, well, that was me, but those others, they were 'ere before I got to it." She dropped her feet down to the floor and shrugged. "It's not so big a deal anyway. So, Counsellor, how can we 'elp you?"

Bree felt a bit like a referee for a tennis match. "Actually....Captain," and the last was said with clear distaste, "I was hoping I could speak to you privately for a few moments. If you know who I am, then you understand what my responsibilities are."

Tebrianne indicated for Brennyn to take one of the chairs across from her. "While that may be, I don't think anyone would argue that the situation here is somewhat unorthodox. Commander, did you want to step back outside and make sure my crew isn't painsticking your crew without warrant?"

Lyrr smirked, and gave a gesture that was almost a wave before turning out of the room.

When the doors closed behind Lyrr, Scott turned her attention to Bancroft. "It's nice to see you two getting along so well."

"Now we have privately for a few moments," Tebrianne said as she leaned forward. "What's on your mind, Counsellor?"

"My crew's well-being," she replied honestly. "I'd like some reassurances from you directly that they and their children won't be harmed if they cooperate. But I suppose I should say 'Welcome back' first. A number of people have missed you, and after what you went through, I'm amazed you're here."

"I've been amazed every morning for the last five years," Teb answered. "And, as long as people cooperate, no one will be 'urt. That's been my assurance from the beginning, and I'm not backing down now."

"And this T'Briane? How well do you know her?" asked Brennyn. "Can she be trusted not to hurt anyone?"

"She can be trusted to do whatever she likes," Teb said. "So, not really. But, I do have the command here. As long as the crew stays in line, she shouldn't feel the need to try to step in."

"And if she does feel the need to step in? I'm not asking for trouble, merely trying to prepare for the worst. Has anyone hurt you?"

"Hurt is the way of things in this universe," Teb answered. "It hasn't happened for a long time, however."

"That doesn't mean it still can't affect you," Scott reasoned, "But it also doesn't mean you have to continue the cycle. You have a choice now even if you had none then."

Tebrianne frowned. "And, what choice do I have now?"

"That depends on where your own loyalties lie," remarked Bree, "do you intend to help us escape this universe and to reclaim your place in it, or are you willingly working for her?"

"I'm currently in command of this ship," Tebrianne said with a smile. "My intentions are to get us to the Gate. Beyond that, my counsel is my own. As you can imagine, things need to be played very carefully."

In spite of the situation, Bree found herself smiling wryly. "Yeah, I think I got that when you pinched my Executive Officer. Listen, whatever happens, you've obviously been through a lot to get here and it can't be easy, so if you need to talk, then I'm your girl. I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to be kept in the loop as much as possible to keep my crew calm. They've been through some things lately as has Salinger, and I worry about them. People can only take so much trauma before they begin to shut down, you know?"

Scott would never betray Ben's confidence, but Bree was not going to deny the things she knew about Tebrianne, at least not to herself. If they could trust her, who knew what else she had been through and how it might affect her?

"I know," Tebrianne said. "It's not an easy situation, and things aren't quite what they appear to be. You sound like you know something about me, and all I can say is use that knowledge to piece together my motivations. I'll keep you in the loop as much as possible, but...but it's not time to escape yet, not if the crew wants to get back to their own universe."

Bree nodded solemnly. "I don't think you need to ask 'if,' Teb-- er, Captain," corrected Scott. "And don't worry, we'll figure a way out of this mess. Then perhaps you can catch up on old times. I know at least one person who deserves to know what the hell this is all about."

"I'm sure, in time, everything will be revealed. The current events make some things difficult to disclose, but they will be before long."

"I'm going to hold you to that," replied Brennyn in all seriousness.

Tebrianne smiled. "Alright," she said. "I look forward to that when we get there."

Bree knew better than to completely let her guard down, but inwardly she admitted to being a lot more comfortable now than when she came in. "As do I."

And she was gone.

---

"Loose"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Cargo Bay One
Stardate: 57910.17 15h38

***

"Tell Mr. Farrell he has leave to put his skills to whatever use he desires. And I would very much like to hear from him."

That was what Rett had quoted. From Lyrr.

Leave to put his 'skills' to whatever use he desired. Which doubtless meant something subversive. Which was doable, certainly, but hardly simple.

The complexities were staggering. Did she know the Tac Team had gone under? Maybe. Which meant she was either looking for allies, or looking for a diversionary tactic. Hanging him out to dry on a mission of resistance would be a good way to keep everyone looking the wrong direction.

But he doubted that she was really capable of that. She had gone harsh on him after Bajor because she felt she had to in order to retain a respectable command presence. She was the sort to be needlessly strict, but wasn't the sort to order people to their deaths. She didn't have that aura.

So chances were she wasn't looking to get him killed. That was a good thing.

But did she know about the Tac Team? Did anybody know about the Tac Team? He'd softly started Hamilton and Frazier into the process of letting people know to forget the Tac Team existed. Security wouldn't need the hints, of course, and the absence of one Hansen would clue her engineer sister in, and she'd fill in her department. Word needed to get into Science and medical quickly. Frazier would tell Davies (she could convince him to do anything), who'd tell Gainsborough (he'd tell her anything to make himself look impressive, and wasn't picky about accuracy or originality), who'd pass it into the labs. Hamilton would tell Anders, medical's big athlete, and word would pass to sickbay from there. Anders was smart, and knew how and when to hint. He'd be able to tell the rest of the medstaff, and keep loudmouths like Reese and Taylforth under control. Once the Seftons knew, they could keep their department in line.

Come to think of it, the Seftons could be a huge asset here. What he needed was a weak link among the enforcers. That Hadek fool was mean to the bone; that was certain. But it was frankly impossible for every enforcer to be that way. There had to be insecurities. There had to be weaknesses. And the Seftons could find them.

Farrell stopped himself right there, and checked the wallchrono. Two minutes. That was how long it had taken him to start thinking of people as tools. He shook his head, disappointed in himself, and considered his knee for a moment.

At some point, someone was going to get in a real fight. Lucas' horrendous example aside, at some point, an enforcer was going to get caught unaware and drilled good. And that couldn't be allowed to happen.

The complexities reared their heads again. The captain was a prisoner. He'd die if things got out of hand on this ship. Farrell smirked ruefully. The clinical, armchair strategist in him knew he'd certainly kill the captain in this sort of circumstance, and simply take another hostage. There was no bluffing in a situation like this. The captain of the Windsor would kill the captain the moment things got unruly, and grab someone else to menace. If things stayed unruly, she'd just blow the Sulu out of space and wash her hands of the whole thing.

Which brought up questions of its own. Why keep them around? There was a Sovereign-class heavy cruiser out there. The enemy captain commanded a ship easily twice Sulu's size. The Windsor didn't need the Sulu. Not obviously, anyway. So why keep them around? Prize rights?

Prize rights. Interesting. This could very well be a prestige thing. Like Klingons. Hadek was a bully. That much was certain. He was also a face-to-face bully, which was important. And apparently that was how things worked here. None of the other enforcers had stepped in to get a lick on the downed Lucas. They'd just made sure no one else interfered; it was Hadek's fight. One-on-one confrontation. That was the order of things in this universe.

And that was important. It meant there was a pecking order. It meant no one really trusted anyone, since everyone's position was fluid and could be challenged. Which meant there were bottom-rung soldiers who could be bought. He just needed to figure out who. Frazier could get anyone to talk to her. She could easily work her way into the graces of a guard or two.

He stopped himself again. Reminding himself that Frazier was no more a pawn than the Seftons, he looked out into the cargo bay.

There was Gainsborough listening to Davies. There were Amy and Kit watching each other from across the room. There was Torsten, hiding behind Hex. The list went on.

So many people who'd gotten so close. So many people who were now so vulnerable. So many people who needed skills they'd never thought they'd need.

And he had leave to do as he saw fit. But what? He pinched the bridge of his nose, his mind spinning as the options coalesced. Then Boothroyd started screaming.

---

"Defiance Is Unacceptable"

Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
CPO Calyca Llewellyn Boothroyd - Engineer
Lucas Kaven - Security Officer [NPC]
Senior Lieutenant Hadek - Windsor Security Enforcers

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h40

***

The crew filed forward. Each one giving name and rank, allowing the Enforcer to place a small device on their palm to take a DNA sample. Each was given a department and a shift - it seemed that nothing was being changed for any department except security and science. They were being assigned to engineering, and operations. Apparently scientific duties were being suspended.

Lucas Kaven was being attended to by a couple of the Sulu's medical staff. The Maouri was still unconscious and the Sulu's crew were apprehensive, nervous and scared to varying degrees. The Officers were saying calming words and exerting their influence. The line moved forward, tensions eased as crew were searched and processed.

Hadek stared at each one as they came forward. The imposing Senior Enforcer weighed each person.

Calyca hated this. She felt like Terran cattle, herded and marked. It made her skin crawl and the fine hairs on the back of her neck quiver. She had a sudden, intense rush of sympathetic understanding for Byron that had her drawing in a soft breath.

The petite engineer didn't seem in the least intimidated though, as she stepped forward and stared up at the Senior Enforcer with wide, unblinking green eyes, her small hand held out for the test before being asked.

"Name?" the Enforcer asked without inflection.

"Calyca Llewellyn Boothroyd," she answered simply.

The other Enforcer placed the Medical analyser against her palm and the test was done in a few seconds. The man looked at the padd as the identity was verified.

"Engineer," the Enforcer stated. "Alpha shift. Report to Main Engineering."

The other Enforcer was scanning her. "Open the pack," he said indicating her shoulder pack.

Caly complied and opened the pack, holding the opened edge towards him. There were the standard engineering tools, a few of her own design, a couple PADDs, tricorder, gum, a pair of special glasses, frequently used spare parts, bits of electronics, spider parts, a hank of line, a small roll of duct tape, several small vials of a blue liquid, a pack of small white, spongy looking pellets, a set of drumsticks and a flashlight.

The Enforcer took the whole bag and with a smirk he pulled out the drum sticks and handed them to Calyca. He zipped up the bag and threw it on the contraband pile.

"Next," he said as he waved Calyca toward the exit but she didn't move. She held the drumsticks in her hand, flipping one of them through her fingers and using it to point at her pack.

"Then you might just as well send me down to Science, because you just took away my ability to function effectively as an Engineer," she told him. "I can't do my job without my tools." Then she pointed the drumstick at him and idly wondered why they left her with the only thing she thought could make an effective weapon. "And if you check your records, you'll find that I'm pretty damn good at what I do. But hey... If you don't need good engineers...." She shrugged.

"You'll get tools in Main Engineering," the man replied evenly. His hand rested lightly on the haft of his pain stick.

"I need my tools because they're modified to fit my hands." She showed him her small hands. "That's why I always carry them with me. I won't be effective with standard issue tools. Every damn one of them are made to fit hands twice my size."

The Senior Enforcer stepped forward. He glared at the petite engineer. His pain stick was already in his hand. "Are you disobeying an order?" he asked almost casually.

Caly didn't flinch or back down. She just continued to look up at him. "No, I'm not. I'm informing you of the situation. It's not a matter of disobedience, it's a matter of simply giving you a piece of information that you didn't know. If you still want me to go without my tools, then I will. It's irrelevant to me if I can't do my job properly."

He weighed her words. They were couched innocently, but an argument was an argument. She was disobeying a direct order. It set a bad example to see her putting up an argument over an order. She was also showing him that she was unafraid. That was unhealthy. He looked her up and down, his consideration lasted for only a few seconds before the pain stick slapped against her stomach and he triggered it. The shock and pain slammed into the red headed engineer and she dropped like she'd been king-hit with a shriek. Hadek looked up at the next woman in line as he heard her in-drawn breath. Calyca was still doubled over with searing agony tearing at her nervous system and greatly aggravating the injury she'd already sustained to that area when she'd been tossed around Engineering. "Put a collar on this one," he said to the Enforcer at his side.

The second Enforcer did as ordered. The thin metal linked collar cinched in place and was activated.

As Shirik Lektar stepped forward Hadek stepped closer and stared hard at her.

Shirik's step forward was barely restrained from being a flying leap onto the Enforcer as Calyca went down. Her posture was stiff, fists clenched, and eyes cold and hard as diamonds, her gaze boring into the creature before her. Her movement had put her protectively between Calyca and the pain stick. She forced herself not to speak, knowing it wouldn't be pretty if she did.

"Take that one aside," Hadek motioned with the stick at Calyca. "When she recovers send her back to work." He looked up into the black face of the alien before him. "I won't tolerate argument of any kind. Name?" he asked with a smile at Shirik. His pain stick was held ready to strike beside his leg and as the engineer had gone down the three Enforcers flanking him had raised rifles. He stared hard into the woman's violet eyes. He could tell this one was going to be difficult.

She stared back just as hard. She would remember this one's face, oh yes. "Shirik Lektar," she growled dangerously.

The Enforcer beside Hadek motioned with the padd and the other motioned for her to lift her hand. Hadek glanced at the personnel file on the padd and then glanced back at Lektar. "A Drokari?" He took the padd and scrolled through it, finally looking back at the woman. His attitude seemed to change slightly. "Princess of the Royal House of Lektar... " he grinned evilly.

The one with the sensor said, "She carries a blade."

"Hand it over," Hadek ordered.

She reached behind her, slipping the kemla from its sheath. She'd like to hand it over into his gut, her eyes said, but she didn't speak as she brought it in front of her and offered it to him blade first.

Hadek laughed softly and reached out for the weapon, eyes locked on hers. His gloved hand closed upon the naked blade, and his eyes almost dared her to do something.

Her gaze met his without flinching, and she slowly uncurled her fingers from the hilt of the weapon. Hadek took the kemla and hefted it. Instead of putting it on the pile of confiscated items he slipped it into his own belt. It was a very nice knife. A good souvenir. He smiled as he waved to the second enforcer. "Put a slave collar on this one," he said with a smirk. "Have her sent to my quarters later."

Her gaze followed the knife. Her expression didn't change, if she even cared about what he'd said it didn't show.

The Enforcer stepped up to her and wrapped the thin metal collar around her neck. It cinched with a small electronic beep and the metal felt warm against her skin. Hadek held her gaze while it was applied. He grinned wolfishly.

The Enforcer with the padd said, "Operations, Alpha shift. Report to the Operations Office."

Hadek said, "Report to me at 2000hrs. I'll be taking one of the VIP Quarters. Dress appropriately." He waved her toward the exit.

She said nothing, but turned and left. Maybe she could throw herself out an airlock before 2000, she thought darkly to herself.

Hedek turned to look down at the engineer who still lay twitching on the floor. He waved one of the medical officers over to attend to her and turned to the next one in line, waving them forward.

---

"Steady as She Goes"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Cargo Bay One
Stardate: 57910.17 15h41

***

Boothroyd twitched. Lektar had tried to intervene, and now both she and Booter were fitted with some sort of collar. Boothroyd managed to get ambulatory long enough to head for sickbay. After a gutshot like that, she'd probably be pissing blood.

And that was what did it.

Farrell schooled himself calm, giving every indication he didn't care a whit about Boothroyd, or Lektar, or anyone around him. All the doubt. All the wondering. All the concerns. All faded away. He shunted them all aside in favor of a single overarching goal. The crew of the Sulu would not be enslaved. The crew of this ship would not live in fear.

Lyrr had given him leave to act as he saw fit, and he was damn well going to.

---

"Stay Clear and Sit Tight"
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: Cargo Bay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17 15h43

***

Ainsley looked around the cargo bay until she found who she was looking for. It took her a bit but she finally found Mason on the opposite side of the bay from where she had started.

"Mason," she said lowly as she approached him.

"Counselor," he nodded casually, then lowered his voice. "Don't touch me."

"Don't touch you?" she asked, a little confused.

"Sit like you just want to see if a shipmate's alright. Don't touch me." Farrell's voice was still low, but his manner was nonchalant, as though it was no particularly good or bad thing that she were there.

"Why?" she asked.

"We're all being watched, and these people will use any advantage to keep the crew in line." He shrugged, which didn't exactly match his words. "Act casual. And don't touch me."

"Ok," she answered, feeling a little thick that she hadn't understood what he was getting at to begin with. "So what are we doing?"

"We?"

"Yes, we!" she answered, soft but emphatic. She managed a smile to cover her tone. "I know you're not going to sit here and do nothing and neither am I. Someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed while playing hero."

He chuckled and scratched his nose. "For now, play it casual. The best thing you can do is keep yourself out of trouble. We're all getting a feel for how business is going to get conducted with these goons in charge. Keep your nose clean, and don't get painsticked. I'll contact you."

"You'd better, or I'll come looking for you, Ensign Farrell, and I won't be happy." She smiled at him. "And you know what I'm like when I'm not happy."

He grinned and rubbed his eye. "Yes I do. Now off with you. If any of us have a job to do right now, it's counseling."

"Okay, okay," she agreed. "But promise me that you won't do anything to get yourself too hurt."

Farrell smiled and looked at the deck until his expression sobered. Once it had, he glanced back at her. "I'll do my best to not end up dead."

"Good." She wanted to touch him, to make sure that he remembered that she loved him, but knew that it was best if the people who were keeping them captive didn't know of any personal relationships. As Mason had said they could be used against people in these situations.

"Now pretend I've eased your mind about my emotional state, and walk calmly to your next patient," he said quietly. "I'll contact you."

"Alright, Ensign," she responded with a nod and then, after one last look in his eyes, turned and walked over to the next person that she recognized.

---

"Intentions Awash in Thoron Particles"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Lt. Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, CMO's Office and Bridge Conference Room
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h50

***

Cristobel Sefton entered the Chief Medical Officer's office wearing a halcyon temperament and seated himself across from his mother. Tranquilly, but with a steel certainty, Cristobel told her, "I have to get out of nursing."

"You have remarkably terrible timing, Cristobel. You cannot simply-- Is this about Amy? Is this about me?" Damhnait Sefton asked, the creases on her brow gaining prominence as she furrowed in her frustration. "I really have been trying to--"

"Are you responding to my actions or to my thoughts?" Cristobel accusingly demanded.

"I am acting on my thoughts," Damhnait insisted without raising her voice. "We are in a demanding situation, and my every whim and decision cannot be just about you--"

Again interrupting, Cris said, "When it comes to my career, then, I'm sorry, it is all about me."

Growing concerned that this was more than a passing desire or a reaction to her own behaviour, Damhnait asked him, "Why do you have to leave Medical?"

"Destiny."

***

"You're healthy," Nurse Sefton softly remarked to Commander Lyrr, and continued on his duty to perform quick medical tricorder sweeps of the bridge crew, to ensure none of them were hiding injuries from the battle. Cristobel hadn't needed to treat any of the staff thus far, but that appeared to change when he brought his tricorder to bare on the last officer, Lieutenant Tagliesh. Cristobel frowned.

"You have particularly nasty bruising on your abdomen," Sefton stated with concern.

Xayella's raised eyebrow was subtle, but despite her notions of incompetence regarding the rest of the crew, from prior experience she knew Cristobel didn't suffer from the same. Her abdomen was perfectly fine, but she imagined he knew that. Smiling tightly, as if affected by extreme discomfort, she replied, "It's nothing really. I've had worse. Why, I remember a time when I was forced to undergo treatment by another--" A vague gesture was the perfect opportunity for Xayella to produce a wince, for the benefit of any guards that required a convincing show. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly to dispel the simulated pain, then smiled tautly for Cris. "Alright...maybe it hurts a little."

"I can't give you any medication for the pain. I should treat that right away," Cristobel told her, already rooting around inside his medical kit.

"Out here?" she exclaimed. "I hardly think so, Ensign!" Xayella rose swiftly, and only barely remembered to produce a display of pain, which she did with a groan and a hand to her stomach.

"Conference room, sir?" Cristobel offered in his best impersonation of Amy Reese in a meek mood.

Xayella sighed, appearing annoyed by the distraction, and nodded grudgingly. It took some persuading to convince the sentries to allow them a moment of privacy, and even more to dissuade one lecherous guard in particular from joining them, but Xayella and Cris were finally given leave to assess Xayella's 'wounds' in the Conference room.

Once they seated themselves across from one another at the table, Cristobel forthrightly said, "I want to temporarily transfer to the Science department, despite its current state."

Xayella's amused gaze swept over him as she languidly reclined against her seat, and once it met his again, she was smirking. "I had no idea Dr. Sefton would resort to espionage just to figure out my secret to running a top-notch department. Or," she added, raising her index finger to embellish her point, "did you and mommy get into a fight, and you stormed off in a tantrum?"

Regarding Tagliesh with an air of obvious incredulity, Cristobel explained, slowly to ensure that she was following, "Actually, I'm more concerned with the freakin' I.S.S. Windsor and its lovely boarding parties. I have to help."

"Of course," Xay replied, "but I hardly think that requires you to transfer to Science temporarily. Interdepartmental cooperation is an essential and common part of any ship's operation, one that doesn't require officers to don different uniforms every time."

"But I can't help the crew to the fullest of my abilities as a nurse," Cristobel admitted, with no shame. "I mean, I'm still learning how to be a decent nurse, but I have spent my entire life preparing to be a Science Officer. Admittedly, all of my medical training would make me a xenobiology expert more than anything, and if I had to go to the Academy again, I think I'd study anthropology, but the field I specialized in as a Science Cadet was Temporal Mechanics. Professor Ord was practically grooming me for a career in the Department of Temporal Investigations."

Xayella raised her hands to halt Cris' flood of personal references. "So...you're abandoning medicine to help me identify a vessel?" She smiled probingly. "Or had you something a little more permanent in mind, simply because you enjoy my company?"

"It's never as simple as identifying a vessel," Sefton coldly insisted. "There are always unexpected ramifications. Our jaunt over here could have caused anomalies in the space-time of our universe and theirs. You know that, sir. ...Are you testing me?"

She sighed, at once soberly, and shook her head. "Now's really not the time for that. The captain's missing, we're prisoners on our own ship.... If this were any other time, I'd gladly give you a hassle, but...." Xayella smiled tautly. "If this is what you truly want...."

"It is. Thank you, sir." Cris grinned cheekily then: "Besides, the way I see it, I have been interviewing you. I mean, I'm the one falling out of the rotation for Head Nurse. Meanwhile, at the worst, you get another warm body under your command, and at best, you end up with an, albeit junior, science officer who likes to think outside the sphere of what's outside the box."

Xayella's smirk returned as she interpreted, "An intractable pain in the ass, you mean?"

"Such derision!" Cristobel remarked amusedly. Placing a hand over his heart, he said, "I feel like a member of the Science family already, sir."

"Oh, no no," Xayella corrected, wagging a finger at him. "You haven't received your first tongue lashing. When that day comes, you'll truly know you're in." Her smile was nearly genial, and her throaty chuckle even more so. "Now, you mentioned that ship out there. What had you in mind?"

Softly, Cristobel proposed, "What are the chances of an engineering team being able to... 'quietly' retrofit a number of probes with thoron-field generators? Once the probes are launched into a sensor net formation, the Windsor's sensors wouldn't be able to pick them up as easily as they can monitor the Sulu's sensors, and then we could determine the quantum signature of their ship, or discover any unusual particles on their hull or ours. We'll have information that they don't know we have. There has to be evidence of how they got us here." Sefton shrugged. It was difficult to theorise without a solid knowledge base.

"Well," Xayella mused just as quietly to prevent any eavesdroppers from hearing, "it might work, if engineering could pull it off without our guests catching on. But if your plan is to work we'd have to account for the shielding effect of the thoron particles - we'd end up receiving inaccurate readings if any at all." She smiled, however. "I do like how you think, Mr. Sefton. You're truly wasted in medical."

"Thank you," Cristobel replied with overwhelming surprise, considering everyone's opinion of Tagliesh. He'd always suspected she could be a decent human being, so long as she wasn't suffering condescension or snivelling. Demurely, he said, "I suppose no amount of compensating for the readings we receive back will matter if we can't keep the Enforcers' painsticks away from our Engineers and..." --Cris' telepathic senses were very suddenly struck by the force of will Xayella required to act as if everything was normal and her lover was not a prisoner aboard the Windsor-- "...Anyone else. What should I work on, sir?"

"What are you capable of working on?" she countered. "Theories are fine...but have you any practical knowledge? I need schematics drawn, equipment modified.... What can you do, Ensign?"

"My education may not be ideally well-rounded, but I am qualified to serve as a Science Officer. Give me an order, and I will follow it," Sefton confidently assured her. "During my Cadet Cruise on the Miranda, my schooling was interspersed with days of acting as the CSO's aide, and during a mission in which three separate universes were beginning to collide, I modified equipment when her hands were full, and I designed schematics when we needed three variants of a prototype by the time it would take to design half of one."

Xay's growing appreciation of Cris was boosted exponentially by his testimony. She smiled shrewdly. "Then you will help modify some science probes to emit the thoron-field. I'll draw up the specs for you, but it'll take some time." Sighing, Xayella mused, "I guess that means I'll be needing another check up in, say...two hours?"

"Understood, sir," Sefton nodded, swallowing down the paralysing fear of just being told that he would be one of the ones to potentially get caught, if the Windsor crew disapproved of clandestine information gathering methods. Considering this particular universe's modus operandi, he supposed that, if he were caught, he could probably pass it off as a clever ruse to claim that the real Sulu's sensors were realigned incorrectly by the CSO and bid to win her position with the new sensor web's perfect operation. It only took him a second longer than he would have liked to ask, "I have to work out of Sickbay, obviously, but Ensign Reese already has me scheduled to spend most of my hours in our lab, anyway. Sickbay's lab is set up well, but we probably don't have all the equipment I'll need."

"Commander Lyrr could possibly arrange for you to use the astrometrics lab. It would seem she has some sway with the Romulan bitch," Xay stated blithely.

"Is she really from our universe?" Cris asked, to confirm something he'd heard in the cargo bay. "And yet actually trusted by those from this universe to not be helping her ex-husband?"

"Pretty convoluted, isn't it?" Xay sighed, the stresses of the day showing in the depth of her exhalation. "That seems to be the case...but she's the enemy right now. They all are."

"Agreed," Sefton nodded sombrely, but with conviction.

She quirked a smile at her co-conspirator as she stood. "So...clean bill of health?"

"Completely clean," he replied. "Should we" --Cristobel vaguely recalled some childhood espionage holonovels-- "should we leave the room at different times?"

"Why ever?" Xayella laughed. Moving up alongside him, she suggested, "We'll just tell them I required your help in getting my jacket closed." Her smile was inarguably lascivious. "Shall we?" Though, whether referring to leaving the room or the former, she gave no indication.

"You got it, boss."

---

"How Do You Process A Ferengi?"
By: Ensign Marp - Flight Operations Officer

Location: Cargo bay
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h55

***

Marp was very confused. One minute he was running a standard diagnostic on one of the shuttles, the next minute he was being ordered around by a very large human dressed in combat gear. He had been herded with his shipmates into the cargo bay where he stood in line with his crewmates and waited to be processed. He was not looking forward to his turn. He had watched them use their pain sticks on several of the crew.

Finally it was his turn, as he stepped up and eyed the Enforcer's painstick.

"What in the Terran Empire is this?" the Enforcer joked, grinning. "A Dwarf with big ears?" He reached out with the painstick and touched Marp's lobe; it was inactive, but the Ferengi didn't know that.

Marp closed his eyes and cringed and waited for the pain. He remembered watching the pain it caused Caly. After a few moments went by and he felt no pain. He opened his eyes and looked at the Enforcer. The Enforcer had an amused look on his face. Marp was again the butt of a joke. Being very careful not to make direct eye contact he said, "I'm Ensign Marp, Flight Control."

Marp held out his hand to be processed like the others had done. He had hoped that he would be processed and moved along like the others but something about the look this Enforcer gave him made him feel as though today was going to get much worse.

"Flight Control?" Kas grinned evilly. "Do they have to get you a high chair when you sit at the helm, little man?" He slapped the DNA analyser into the Ferengi's palm and it confirmed him as Ensign Marp - Flight Operations Officer.

The Senior Enforcer just stood back and grinned with the others. Hadek was in a good temper, considering what awaited him that evening. The thoughts of what he would do to the dark skinned Drokari woman, and what he would make her do...amused him. The Ferengi was an ugly little thing. Hadek stepped forward, and took the padd from Kas, glancing through the file. "He's for Engineering," Hadek ordered, "I don't trust inferior races with important tasks like flying the ship I'm on." He grimaced at the little freak. "Alpha shift Engineering, Ferengi."

Marp bristled at the comment. Before his brain could tell him to shut up he said, "Inferior Race" in an angry tone. Oh no, that was not very smart, Marp chastized himself. He quickly dropped the defiant tone and said, "Ah, yes sir." He started to walk away.

Hadek stopped him with a touch of the painstick. The black rod rested on Marp's shoulder, a centimeter from his cheek, but it was inactive. Even then he flinched. "I said, Inferior race..." Hadek's voice was raspy, like a snake moving over sand and just as deadly. "Humans are superior in every way. Why else would it be called the Terran Empire? You inferior breeds will learn to take your place, as the scum beneath my boot heels. For daring to speak out in such a way I should simply remove your tongue." The black beard split in a feral grin. "If I see you again, little freak... I will." He laughed, his glittering black eyes boring into the Ferengi.

Marp allowed his shoulders to sag and bowed his head. He was truly mad as hell but he could see not a sane reason to push this ignorant human further. There was nothing good in it for him. "Yes, sir," said Marp. Marp then cautiously waited to be excused.

A tap with the painstick and a slight push moved him on, to a snickering laugh that followed him.

---

"An Appointment To Miss"

Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft - Acting Captain
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal - Security Chief
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Cargo Bay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17, 15h58

***

Shirik left the cargo bay and headed for the nearest turbolift. "Operations," she said absently. As the lift began moving, she thought about her options. She had to let someone in charge know what was going on in the cargo bay. She decided to find out what the situation was like on the bridge, and tapped her commbadge. "Lektar to T'Kal."

"T'Kal here." Benedict was at his station at Tactical. The Enforcers had informed the Bridge crew to remain at their stations while the rest of the crew were being processed. They had all been searched though - rather thoroughly and T'Kal was now without his blade. He was surprised to hear from Shirik. She had effectively avoided contact with him for weeks now.

She wasn't sure who might be listening, so she stayed formal, her voice flat. "Commander, I need to speak with you, if that's possible."

"I'm on the Bridge, come on up," he replied curtly.

"Aye, sir." The bridge. She'd never actually been there since coming on board. "Computer, cancel destination. Bridge." The lift slowed, stopped, then reversed direction and began moving once more. She folded her hands behind her back and arranged her expression back into utter neutrality.

When the doors opened she stepped slowly out and her gaze wandered the room, taking in every detail of the room itself and its occupants before coming to rest on Ben.

Two Enforcers were standing post at the Turbolift entry and guns were levelled at Shirik as she stepped out of the lift.

She was shown one of the palm analysers and told to place her hand upon it. After a few seconds to verify her identity and that she had been processed, she was permitted to proceed to the Tactical station, where Benedict waited.

She made her way to stand a short distance from him. "Commander."

"Ensign Lektar," he nodded, looking up into her violet coloured eyes and giving her a smile. He saw Lyrr turn in her command chair and glance at Shirik, and she shot a glance at Benedict, her patience with other women seeking his attention well and truly at an end. "What can I help you with?" he asked in a low voice.

Shirik had eyes only for Ben, and despite the gravity of the situation, she was able to find hope by looking into his eyes. "Perhaps you might have noticed my new necklace?" she asked quietly. "When I was processed, I was told to report to the guard's personal quarters after my shift...dressed 'appropriately'." She didn't know whether he could do anything about it, but at least she felt better knowing he knew. "I'm not sure if I'm the only one," she added. Who knew how many other crew members might be ordered to guards' rooms?

For a moment he digested the meaning of her words. Then his eyes narrowed and the inner rage manifested itself in a twisting of his mouth and he looked away as his hands gripped the Tactical station's hand rail. "You will not comply with that instruction," he breathed quietly through gritted teeth. "You are required on the Bridge for this shift. Who was it?" he asked, looking back at her. His question was delivered in a much calmer manner, but no less dangerous.

She didn't think there would be a choice, ultimately, but was not about to argue with him. "I never overheard his name, but he was in charge in the cargo bay. He carries my kemla in his belt," she said quietly. She paused, and decided to add what information she had, in case he wasn't aware of it. "Sorg is in sickbay, injured during the battle."

T'Kal nodded. "I know. The one in charge?" he clarified as Shirik nodded. "I'll take care of it." He pointed to the Operations station at the rear of the Bridge. "Wait here a moment. You'll be at Ops until further notice." He stepped away from Tactical and down into the command well to speak directly with Tebrianne.

"Captain," he addressed her with a serious expression, "a moment in your Ready Room?" He looked at Lyrr and back at Tebrianne. "We have a problem." He looked at the back of the Bridge at Shirik Lektar. "It seems your security officers are choosing females and putting them in slave collars. Ensign Lektar was instructed to attend to one of your officers later this evening."

Tebrianne's eyes narrowed and she nodded. With that, she unfolded herself from the captain's chair and started toward the Ready Room.

Benedict waved at Shirik to accompany them and they followed Tebrianne.

She stalked her way over to the desk and nearly threw herself into it, though it was more of a flopping than a throw. "So, what happened?" she asked once they were inside.

Benedict looked at Shirik and nodded for her to speak.

"I was in the line to be 'processed' with my friend Calyca," she said. "Who was pain-sticked to the floor for asking to keep her tools." Her gaze was cold at the memory. "My weapon was confiscated, and when my identity was confirmed in the crew manifest, I was collared and told that after my duty shift, I was to report to the Enforcer's private quarters...dressed appropriately." She gave no further details, not sure who this woman was or if she could be trusted with anything more.

"Which officer was it?" Tebrianne asked. "My officers are not supposed to behave in such a manner...at least not until our mission is complete. The crew have jobs to perform until then." She frowned distastefully at the thought, though it had been the practice as long as she had been in the Mirror Universe.

"The one in charge," Benedict said grimly.

"'Adek," Tebrianne said, dropping the H with her accent. Her eyes darkened at the thought of trouble with T'Briane's pet thug. She glanced at Shirik, then back to Ben. "I'll 'ave a little chat with 'is Brutishness. 'e's one of Captain T'Briane's favourites, and going against 'im is...generally ill-advised. I've never been one for doing what's advised, so I'll see what sort of agreement I can knock into 'is bleeding 'ead."

"I trust I will be advised of the outcome before 2000," Shirik said quietly, but neutrally. Whatever happened, she was ready, she told herself.

"I'll make certain you are aware of whatever transpires," Tebrianne answered. "Any actions that impact the productivity of the crew of this ship while I'm in command will be 'arshly dealt with." She frowned. "In either case, plan to not be in Senior Lieutenant 'Adek's personal quarters at that time."

"I'll go with you," Benedict said at once. "As Chief of Security I want to make sure this practice is stopped now, before I have to deal with traumatised female crewmembers. The very thought of it sickens me. I will not allow it!" There was an edge to his voice as he looked back at Tebrianne, the memories of Marco still burned in his mind. What that bastard had done to Tebrianne... Benedict's fists clenched in pure rage. "It's just not going to happen," he said dangerously. "I'll kill him first, no matter what the consequences."

Shirik's gaze was drawn to Ben at the tone of his voice. She didn't dare to say anything in front of Tebrianne, but there was a warning in her eyes for him. She knew what the consequences would be for all of them if he were killed dealing with Hadek. She'd rather go to Hadek's bed than see that happen.

"It won't come to that, Ben," Tebrianne said, "but thank you. 'owever, we should go to 'im soon before this goes any further, or gets any more out of 'and."

Benedict nodded. He looked at Shirik and said, "You stay on the Bridge, Ensign, until we deal with this."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

Tebrianne looked to Ben. "You available to track 'im down and deal with this now?"

"Oh yes." Benedict nodded. "Now is a very good time."

"Come on then," Teb said as she stood. "Let's go find 'adek and tell 'im e's got to keep 'is bloody 'ands to 'imself while e's 'ere."

---

"Do You Hear the People Sing?"

Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Galil F'Zal; Counselor [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu
Stardate: 57910.17 16h01

***

Galil! Mason thought hard at the counselor. The man would surely have his mind open, looking for people who needed a talking-to.

F'Zal perked and looked around, startled. Mason thought it again, as focused as he could. He knew it wasn't really a sending, but he'd learned how to focus his thoughts to make them easier to read, so hopefully F'Zal would pick him up.

The counselor turned to Mason, and calmly walked over to sit beside him.

How are you holding up, Mason? F'Zal telepathically sent, an obvious test to make sure he'd 'heard' properly.

"About as well as can be expected, under the circumstances," Mason answered quietly and casually.

F'Zal looked down and smiled with pleasant surprise. Mason, I'm impressed. You've been keeping secrets.

So what else is new, Galil? Mason resisted rolling his eyes.

True, you certainly are the type. I was just wondering to myself what a man with your particular mindset would do in a situation like this.

I'll tell you, if you'll help.

I could just find out, you know.

Yeah, I know, but we both want to be able to trust each other, and you know full well what'll happen if you just go wandering around in my head.

True. Fine, I'll help. To what do I owe the pleasure of this contact? F'zal smirked, able to look away as he communicated.

I need you to get into the heads of these Enforcer goons.

Dhia, Mason. They disgust me. Why?

We need to be able to fight back.

The captain will die, F'zal said, the concern carrying across the communication.

We can't fight back up front. But we can move to subvert. Even without telepathy, it's obvious how wound-up these Enforcers are. I need to know their weak link.

They have no weak link.

That's a load of crap, Galil. At least one of these guys has a deep-seated insecurity that he absolutely can't risk being discovered. I need to know who, and what. Get all of counseling involved. Pull in the Seftons from Medical, too, and see if they can get Quezith to help. You counselors and telepaths have the best sense of emotional states. Find out the pecking order. Determine who's at the bottom, who's unhappy, and who's immune to influence. I need to know who's addicted to what, and who's available and for what price. Can you do that?

F'zal was quiet. Mason considered shouting mentally, but knew it wouldn't do any good. He was at the betazoid's mercy here. He was asking F'Zal to do something deeply unethical, but hoped the circumstances would make it allowable.

Very well, F'zal 'pathed after a minute. I will see what we can find out. Obviously, you're contactable at any time?

Absolutely. And do me one more favor?

What is that? F'zal sounded surprised that there could be more than what he'd already been asked to do.

When you get the chance, tell Ainsley I love her. I can't risk doing it myself right now. It could put her in danger.

F'Zal turned and looked at Mason with respect. Mason knew he was looking for sincerity, and let the man look. Not that he could have stopped him anyway.

You have my word on it, the betazoid replied, apparently convinced. He turned and left Mason's view.

---

"Who Enforces the Enforcers"
by Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft, Commanding Officer
and Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal, Chief of Security

Location: Various, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17 16h03

***

Tebrianne led the way off the bridge and into the turbolift. "'e'll be in the mess 'all at this hour," she said. "That's where 'e'll be able to cause the most trouble. We'll want to get 'im somewhere private, I think we'll have a better chance of getting through to 'im that way."

Benedict had stalked across the Bridge barely casting a glance at Lyrr as he passed. So angry and focused was his expression that a palpable aura seemed to precede him. He barely nodded at Tebrianne, and alone in the lift he glanced into her eyes.

"T'Briane seemed to know me," he said quietly. "Does Hadek?"

"'e doesn't," Teb said. "I deal with 'im as little as possible. I mentioned you to 'er one time, back after I'd first arrived. She was fascinated, and... My psionics were gone, so I couldn't meld with 'er." Her relief was obvious, but she sighed. "She found a Romulan device, that essentially allowed the sharing of minds, and...and she learned everything she could from me about you. You became an obsession of 'ers. She called it love, but it wasn't. She wanted to possess you, but it was dark, malevolent. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't...'ave you over to the Windsor before this is done."

He listened and grew more uneasy as she went on. "Oh wonderful," he said with a heavy sigh. "One more...why not." He shook his head. "I really need another crazy sadistic bitch competing for my attention." He looked at Tebrianne and realized that she didn't know anything about Cathy Page.

Tebrianne looked up, startled. She stared at him for a long moment, Then laughed. "I'm really not that sadistic, Love. I wouldn't worry too much about 'er yet though. She's gonna have a lot on her mind with this Gate thing. If she gets too crazy, just sing to 'er. Doesn't put 'er to sleep, but it sort of distracts 'er for a bit. Sappy stuff gets 'er the most. Nothing like a megalomaniac with a soft spot for a soothing ballad."

"I didn't mean you," he said with a distracted grin. "Remember Catherine Page?" he asked. "Back on the Galaxy?" His face lost its smile as he remembered the woman all too clearly.

Teb was thoughtful for a moment, then she nodded. "I remember 'er," she said. "She was pretty, but always seemed angry for whatever reason. Seemed like she just up and was gone one night. That was...I think that was right around the time we...we separated."

"She caused it," he said heavily. "She's the reason we split up in the first place." He looked into her eyes and carried on. "She screwed with my mind with some kind of memory altering thing...she tried to make me love her instead of you. It nearly killed me," he admitted. "It was the only reason we split up, Teb. All that pain...everything...it was her fault. I didn't find out what it was until after you died."

Tebrianne was silent for a long several moments while the truth of Ben's words sank in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and finally ended up only shaking her head. "I 'ope she's long dead," she finally breathed, "because if I ever come over 'er again, she's being paid back with all the pain and heartache and loss she's caused. She...she cost me everything. She cost us everything."

He nodded. "I don't know where she is. She's out there somewhere.."

The turbo lift halted and the door opened. Benedict stepped out ahead of her and the twin doors of the Mess hall opened as he approached. There were four armed and armoured Enforcers standing around the open space, crew members were eating and talking in subdued tones.

A table with two Enforcers, one of them female was being served by three members of the Sulu's Operations staff. It wasn't hard to see who Hadek was. His black glare caught them both as Tebrianne stepped into the Mess Hall slightly behind Benedict T'Kal.

Tebrianne said nothing until they were standing before the table. "'adek," she said. "We need to go somewhere and 'ave a little chat about the situation aboard ship. Me, you, and Security Chief T'Kal."

The man sneered at T'Kal's name. He looked from Tebrianne to Benedict and mopped some gravy onto a slice of meat and sucked it into his mouth as he sat back to regard them. The Captain's pet and the Sulu's security chief who had given up without a fight. He ate noisily for a moment, a threat of thick gravy dribbled onto his black beard. His glittering hard eyes looked back at Tebrianne. "If there's a Security Chief on this scow it's me," he drawled with a mouth full. He took up a tankard of ale and swilled it down. "The situation is well in hand," he reported with a sly smile. "As Captain T'Briane ordered. You have a problem, Captain?" He almost sneered the rank Tebrianne afforded on the Sulu.

"Do you really want to do this here in front of the men, 'adek?" Tebrianne asked. "We can, if that's your fancy. Just thought you'd prefer to take care of it nice and private though...where reputations won't be tarnished."

He looked at her hand, the one that was closest to her knife, and the relaxed manner of her stance. His eyes flicked to T'Kal, and he stood glaring at him, his body seemingly relaxed in the way a born fighter would. Hadek weighed up his choices and stood, tossing the bone onto his plate and finishing the ale with a couple of hefty swallows. He spared a moment to slip his gloves over his calloused hands and nodded. "After you, Captain." His smile was still sly. It was always best to watch your enemies' back, lest they watch yours all too intently.

Tebrianne turned and led the way out, her calmness belying the fact that she didn't trust Hadek behind her. She wouldn't let him know that though, not and give him any sort of advantage. She led the way toward one of the open rooms along the corridor, empty save some equipment. She entered the room first, showing Hadek she didn't fear him. Once inside, she turned. "There's a problem. I need this crew working, not entertaining you and your men. If you wish for entertainment, you'll need to learn to get by amongst yourselves." She gave him a sneer. "Once we've completed our mission, you can choose from amongst the crew as you desire. But, until that time, unless they come to you willingly, the crew of my ship is off-limits for your bed sports."

"Your ship?" He sneered. "I was under the impression it belonged to T'Briane...don't worry, I won't choose anyone important...but they have to learn their place. Or do you favor laxity in discipline? I have thirty officers aboard this ship and to maintain discipline with them I require some of the new bloods as sport. I'll make sure they don't kill any of them...or make them unfit for work duty. But surely in their off hours you can spare a few?" he asked with one hand hooked into his belt, close to the hilt of a long bladed dagger. It was Lektar's Kemla.

Benedict remained silent as Tebrianne issued her orders, his eyes fixed on the black-bearded Hadek.

"I can spare those who wish to be spared," Tebrianne said. "If it were up to me, 'adek, you'll shrivel up and fall off before you get any. I'm captain of this ship, because T'Briane assigned me to it. It's my ship as long as I'm in charge. As long as I'm in charge, you'll follow my commands." She brushed a finger over the blade strapped to her thigh. "Are you challenging my authority, 'adek?"

He stared hard at her and chewed his bottom lip for a moment in indecision. "No," he finally decided. It would be foolish to do so...he was out-numbered, and it wasn't the right moment. "No," he re-affirmed. But I will, he thought, looking into her dark eyes. "I'll obey you."

"Good," Tebrianne said with a smile. "Just make certain you keep on obeying. You do your job well, to my satisfaction, there's promotions in it for you. Defy me, you're defying T'Briane. And, you know what 'appens to those who defy her."

"Yes," he smiled, "I do..." His eyes flicked between T'Kal and Tebrianne, coming to rest on Benedict. "Is this your latest monkey?" he asked with a sneer.

"He's the one who brought the crew's complaints about you to my attention," Teb said. She leaned forward, lowering her voice for him. "Don't think about reprisals, 'adek. Any punishments because of this, and I'll be punishing you."

"Oh...reprisals?" he asked innocently. "Me? Never would have considered it." He looked at Benedict with a sneer. "This is the man who gave up his ship without a fight...the Security Chief." He said the title like it had the taste of vomit attached to it.

Benedict stared silently at his enemy. Words at this point were insignificant.

"Actually, that was the captain's decision," Tebrianne said. "You do remember what the chain of command is, don't you, 'adek?"

Hadek just sneered. "I will remember," he growled. "Now, I have things to do."

"Dismissed then," Tebrianne said with a smirk. "'ave a nice day, Mr. 'adek."

He shoved past T'Kal as he left the room, his eyes betraying a certain hatred of the tall Security Chief. Benedict smiled coldly and he was gone.

Tebrianne grinned up at Benedict once Hadek was gone. "I don't think he likes you much, Love."

"The feeling is entirely mutual," the Bajoran replied. He waited until the man was well and truly gone before whispering, "We need to find a way to remove those slave collars. I think it's best to assign Ensign Lektar to the Bridge for the time being, seeing as she attracted Hadek's eye so readily."

"Good idea," Teb answered. "And, if not remove the collars, at least disable them. I can try to get ahold of one if Engineering would like to come up with a way to bypass them, or create a skeleton key."

Benedict nodded. "Good idea, otherwise I'm sure they will be used to blackmail the rest of the crew. If we can disable them without tipping our hand that would be best."

"That's what I was thinking," Teb said. "That way they never know. You know, we still make a pretty good team, don't we?"

He smiled. "We always did." He looked into her dark eyes and nodded. "We should get back," he said reluctantly.

She gazed up at him and smiled. "Alright," she said. "How's the band on the ship, Ben? Are they good? If I stick around...I was thinking...I might, you know...join in with them."

He grinned, and nodded. "They'd benefit from your talents for sure. Maybe they'd even let me join them." He shrugged. "That'll come when we get out of this place. I don't want to make plans until I know we're safe...and on the other side of the Gate."

"I don't want to be overconfident," Teb said with a grin, "but I think we've got what it takes to make it. We're going to get through this, Ben. I can feel it. But, I'll hold off on making definite plans until we're on the other side."

"We do," he said. "This crew is a good one, Teb. We'll get through it." With that he smiled and led her out into the corridor. "Best get back to the Bridge," he said with resolve.

"Yes," Tebrianne murmured. "Best." She lingered slightly, watching him, then finally did turn and began her way back to the bridge. She could feel the spark, and she just hoped it didn't get her killed here. It was in every look. It was everywhere, and it made her feel alive again. "I'll see you later," she murmured as she slipped into the turbolift alone, and sped back to the bridge. Best to get lost in duty before she got lost in his eyes again. Though, that had merit as well. She was grinning when she stepped back out onto the bridge, ready to take on the galaxy. It was so good to be alive again.

---

"Visiting Friends"

Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Shirik Lektar, Operations Officer
CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security Officer
Ensign Annikafiore Szerda, Nurse [NPC]

Location: Various Locations
Stardate: 57910.17, 16h10

***

Shirik made her way in search of her friend, Calyca. She hadn't seen her since the incident in the cargo bay and was worried about her. She was somewhat relieved when the computer located her in a Jefferies tube and not in sickbay. She caught sight of Caly's rear poking out of a maintenance hatch and squatted down to peer inside. "Hey, you."

Caly grunted, recognizing Shirik's voice and rolled over carefully onto her back, still feeling the effects of the pain-stick, or more likely the aggravation it caused to what she'd already done when the ship got tossed around. "Hey...." Shirik could hear soft, muffled grunting coming from inside the hatch and a growled "Dammit" followed by some clunking sounds.

"Alpha shift is over, get your head out of there and come with me. We have places to go and people to see," she said.

"Give me five minutes and I should be done here," Caly answered.

Shirik nodded. "Is it something I can help you with?" She bent over partially to try to get a better look inside the hatch.

Caly's arms were stretched over her head and she glanced down the length of her body to see Shirik's face. "I don't think both of us will fit," she answered. "I've almost...got...it..." she grunted softly and stretched a bit more, pushing further into the hatch. "You gonna tell me what I owe the pleasure of your visit to?" she asked. It was unusual for Shirik to come find her like this and the fact she did, gave her pause especially with recent events. Although given what happened in the Cargo Bay, she shouldn't be surprised that Shirik had come to check on her.

Shirik considered for a moment before answering. "Sorg," she said finally. "He was injured during the battle."

Caly's whole body stilled. She didn't move, or hardly even breathe. Even her fingers stilled. She hadn't expected that, and it was several moments before her fingers and hands resumed their task. The only thing she said was, "How badly?" Her voice was still as neutral as it had been and rather expressionless. She might as well have been asking Shirik about her tasmos.

"Bad enough," she said. "I'm told he'll be ok, though, so don't worry. I just thought we should be his first visitors."

"It'll just take me another minute or so," she told Shirik, and she didn't sound in the least worried or concerned for that matter. "Were there a lot of people injured?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know... I didn't really pay much attention when I was in sickbay. I was a bit distracted." She frowned slightly.

There was another brief pause from inside the hatch before Caly spoke again. "Were you injured too, Shiri?" Her voice was still neutral and she was back to working, her tools making uncommonly loud noises and several choice swear words coming from the depths of the maintenance tunnel. After a moment the Ensign could hear her softly spoken. "There."

"No, no... I was fine. Just a little bit shaken up."

"You okay now?" Caly glanced towards the hatch opening as she finished up and gathered the tools they'd given her in place of her own, taking a little longer than usual to do so and grumbling about how clumsy they were.

Shirik nodded. "As well as can be expected, under the circumstances," she said. "What about you? Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Caly nodded and started to scoot her way out of the hatch, dragging the pack with her and wincing a little as she moved. "I'm done." She sat up once she was out and pulled out a PADD, entering some information into it and sending the completed repair notification and pertinent details on to Main Engineering. It had taken her twice as long as usual and she made a note of that in the log. And noted why it took her so long. She reached up a hand and tugged at the control collar around her neck.

Caly's tug at her collar only reminded Shirik of the one she now wore herself. "Good. Let's be off." Shirik offered her a hand, which Caly took after securing the hatch. The red-headed engineer brushed herself off as the pair made their way to the turbolift. She was smudged in more than one place, but didn't even try to find or remove them, save for her uniform, which she did try to make look presentable. As for Shirik, she bore one smudge, the smear of blood on the sleeve of her uniform that she'd forgotten about, but was reminded of when she gave Caly her hand. She glanced at it as they waited for the turbolift, and Caly, if she saw it, gave no indication. She just stood in rather quiet contemplation as they waited for the lift.

"I need to go to my room," Caly commented idly.

"Now? We can stop there first," Shirik said.

"No. I'll go later," Caly answered,

Shirik was stiff, on edge, her ears and eyes taking in everything as they went, as if expecting enemies to leap at them at any moment. She was reminded of home, and didn't overly like it.

In contrast, Caly looked rather nonchalant and like it was just a normal day. Except she was unusually quiet as she stepped into the lift when it arrived.

Shirik followed Caly into the lift. She stood with her back to the lift wall. "Sickbay," she ordered quietly. She watched the doors close.

Caly glanced over at Shirik as she rummaged through her pockets until she found a piece of gum. "You okay?" she asked, pulling the gum from her pocket and carefully unwrapping it.

She shrugged. Caly could always read her. "I've never felt guilty about doing my duty before today," she said quietly. "It's not a good feeling."

Caly quirked a brow in her direction. "Why do you feel guilty about doing your duty?" she asked and popped the piece of gum in her mouth.

"Because I had to leave Sorg lying there on the floor bleeding. I didn't know how injured he was... For all I know he could have bled to death in the time I stabilized the core and called for help. But I made a conscious decision to ignore him and do what had to be done..."

"Ahh...." She chewed on her gum for several moments as she watched Shirik. "The hard choices suck," she finally offered.

Shirik nodded. "Yeah... yeah, they do. I know I did the right thing, and I don't regret my decision. I know what has to be done in a crisis. I just didn't think it would feel so bad." Her mouth turned into a frown.

"Why do you think you felt so bad about it?" she asked softly.

"I guess I just never thought about my actions possibly being responsible for someone dying. Especially a friend." She frowned. "Back home... I know I've been directly responsible for a lot of deaths. But it's different when it's someone you know and care about."

"Mmm... It is different when it's someone you know," she agreed. "Hurts in ways you didn't know it could. Sort of makes you look at the ones you didn't know in a whole new light, doesn't it?" Caly wondered.

"Indeed," she said quietly, staring off at nothing.

As the lift doors opened she stepped out, putting thoughts of her dark past behind her. She hadn't heard from Cris yet, so she could only assume that meant Sorg was still unconscious. Given the current circumstances, she decided that was probably just as well.

Caly followed her from the lift, moving a bit slowly, adjusting the cumbersome pack, and softly popping her gum. If she was worried about Sorg, it didn't show. Nothing she felt was showing at the moment. She did eye the armed guards near the entrance to Sickbay, but wisely kept any comments to herself.

Annikafiore Szerda greeted Shirik and Caly -- as they entered Sickbay's waiting room -- with considerably less flourish than she usual mustered for new arrivals. "How can I help you?" she politely asked.

"We're here to see Sorg Jurell if that's possible," Caly told her quietly. Her thoughts weren't really focused on them, or the conversation. Or even on Jurell. At the moment, they went something like this: ...Oxidation States: 5, 3. - Named after Niobe, the daughter of Tantalus - Discovered in..., as she recited the Periodic Table of the Elements in her head, complete with history.

"Sorg has made a full recovery in the most general sense, but Doctor Sefton has kept him sedated to ensure his healing keeps," Szerda explained as she directed the women past the Enforcers and over to their unconscious friend. Much softer, she couldn't hold back what little gossip she had. "And probably to prevent him from doing anything foolish like reporting to duty before he's ready, because of what's been going on."

Shirik nodded. "Good. That's likely a wise move." She followed Annika into Main Sickbay, her gaze flicking about to take in the position and numbers of any soldiers present. She stood aside as they neared Sorg's bed, to let Caly precede her.

Caly approached Sorg's bed and simply stood looking down at him. "I understand he was injured pretty badly?" She didn't take her eyes off the Security Crewman, studying his face that looked almost serene as he slept through his drugged state. She tugged at the collar around her neck. "How long before he wakes up?"

"He'll wake up in" --Annika considered the med levels displayed on the monitor over Sorg's bed for several seconds-- "about half an hour, as he is. Doctor Sefton might decide to keep him sedated longer, though."

Caly nodded in quiet contemplation and stood looking at Jurell for several more moments before turning to Annika. "May I-- uhh... We...." She waved a hand towards Shirik to include her. "Stay?"

"Certainly," Szerda nodded. She glanced over at Sickbay's two heavily armed guards. "So long as the alert condition stays relatively calm."

"Of course, Ma'am," Caly agreed instantly, her own gaze briefly following Annika's. "And thank you. I just wanted to make sure we wouldn't be in the way," she assured her and moved slowly to the other side of the bed, taking a chair out of the way.

Shirik stood quietly nearby, just watching and listening.

Caly set the pack on the floor at her feet and pulled out a PADD which she began drawing on as she settled back and crossed her legs at the knees. A moment later she uncrossed them and instead crossed them at the ankles which was much more comfortable.

With a shrug Shirik made her way over to stand behind Caly's chair, where she could peer over her shoulder at what she was doing. She waited until Annikafiore Szerda had wandered off before she spoke. "Are you ok?" she asked quietly.

Caly was working on a very detailed schematic of a robotic dragonfly. Her fingers never stopped moving even when Shirik spoke, and she answered with a casual, "I'm just -- Not in a very good mood at the moment."

Shirik reached out and hesitantly laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Ok," she said. She wasn't going to pry, but just let Caly know she was there for her. She glanced at Caly's screen. "What are you doing?"

She was quiet for several moments before she finally answered. "Drawing a schematic for a robotic Dragonfly," she explained.

"I see," she mused, not overly enthralled with that idea. She straightened once more and turned her gaze to the readings over Sorg's biobed for something to look at.

Caly simply continued to draw, only part of her attention on what she was doing and the people around her.

Shirik watched her friend for a moment. "Do you remember how you made me promise on the Exeter to let you know when you started doing that 'focusing on work so you didn't have to think about other stuff thing?' I thought I should point out you're doing it."

Caly's hand paused and she became very still for several moments before she went back to her drawing and responded. "I know."

Shirik nodded. It made sense for now.

***

Sorg Jurell was in a dark place. Soft edges and warmth, but very dark. The first impression of wakefulness was a tingling in the fingers; though the actual transition took several minutes, his memory of it was nil. His lips parted to suck in a deep breath and the feeling of dryness was overwhelming. His first true mental impression was of thirst. Then a pale light filtered through his eyelids, but they were like duranium shielding, almost impossible to penetrate. His eyelids were gummed together and he gave out a slight gasp at the futility of it and slipped backward into the comforting warmth again.

She might have looked like she wasn't paying attention, the way she kept drawing on the PADD in her lap, hardly looking up even when she spoke, but her head snapped up and she looked towards Sorg the moment his lips parted.

By the time he'd drawn in that first deep breath, Caly was on her feet and stepping over to stand beside him, the intricately drawn schematic lying on the chair and forgotten for the moment.

As soon as Caly left her chair, Shirik moved as well, silently backing out of the area to leave them alone.

A few minutes later the process was begun again, albeit totally forgotten. This time the sedative had worn off appreciably more and he managed a weak groan and his eyes opened to slits. He didn't feel pain. He didn't feel much of anything, except the tingling in his fingers. He remembered a Red Alert though and a hard impact before the lights went out. He was sure that his face should be hurting. That was the last fleeting impression of reality before nothing...his face had hurt!

Caly just watched him, silently willing him to wake up. She drew in a small breath when she saw his eyes trying to slit open and heard his groan.

There was something moving and it drew his attention. Though it was blurred, it was a person, he could feel that. The next breath was heavy, and his fingers tingled so much that he had to move them, he felt them twitch from far away. He was in sickbay. The smell of the air...but he smiled. His lips cracked slightly. "Cal?" It came out as a croak and his eyes were still closed but he couldn't miss the fragrant oils...and that delicate mix of mechanical lubricant.

Her hand reached down to touch his twitching fingers. "I'm here," she answered quietly, her voice still holding onto that neutral quality. She wasn't aware of Shirik's departure just yet because the majority of her focus was on Jurell.

He felt her hand in his and was surprised at how comforting it was. "You okay?" he asked, licking his lips. He sounded like crap. He managed to open his eyes enough to see a blurred face that quickly resolved into Calyca. He looked up into her green eyes.

"Yes. I'm not the one laying in a biobed unconscious," she pointed out. "And hardly able to talk." She looked around for the doctor, or a nurse... Someone to report his discomfort to. Which was when she noticed that Shirik wasn't there.

Shirik was within sight, but not hearing, even for her. She had her hands folded behind her back as she examined some readout display on the other side of the room, keeping the two guards within sight as well.

"Was I hurt bad?" He frowned and raised his sluggish head. "Was Shirik hurt?" He looked at the next biobed but it was empty. "Everything went dark."

"Shirik was uninjured," Caly replied quietly as her eyes found the Drokari woman. "She's here. She came and got me...."

"Ahhh," he grinned. "You were hip deep in some part of the ship huh?" he chuckled softly. "That's my Caly." He squeezed her hand.

"I was struggling with--" she began absently, almost defensively, halting to turn and look at him, green eyes blinking as some emotion slipped back into her demeanor. "Your Caly?" She snorted and coughed a "Hah! When pigs fly!" as she glared at him. "And that reminds me." She let go of his hand and started gesturing with hers as she went on, tugging on the collar around her neck under her uniform. "The next time you scare me like that, Sorg Jurell, I'm going to cut you up into teeny pieces and feed you to my damn spiders!" Her fur was definitely up and she crossed her arms under her breasts as she continued to glare down at him, exhaling a small huff of breath.

He grinned and chuckled. From this perspective her crossing her arms accentuated certain parts of her anatomy quite nicely. "Prophets..." he said croakily, "...you must like me a lot!" His ice blue eyes held her gaze unflinchingly.

Caly blinked and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him even more. She opened her mouth to snap something back at him, but closed it again. She looked down at him for several heartbeats before responding in a more quietly spoken tone, "You're delusional. And probably doped up to the gills...." Then another heartbeat or two went by before she added, "Well enough to feed you to my spiders."

"I thought so." He reached up slightly holding his hand out for her to take it. "Feed my delusion and stay with me a while." He smiled. "I'm glad you're here, Caly." His voice was serious. "Now...tell me what the hell happened to the ship. What did we hit?" He hadn't seen the two Enforcers yet.

"Feed your..." She sighed and took his hand, perching her butt up next to him. "Very well. Scoot over..." She nudged him with her hip, biting down on her lip a bit as she did and pressing a hand on her stomach. There was a faint undercurrent of grudging affection in her tone. "We didn't hit anything. The core breached on the Dominion ship and we got caught in the explosion," she began, and continued to give him a detailed rundown on just what had been damaged and repaired on the ship, along with everything else she knew about, like the surrender and the guards and the rounding up and being herded. She wasn't one to hide those things from him but she did skim past the painstick to her gut part. He was a grown man and needed to know what their situation was, especially if he could see the armed guards, which she indicated with a glance as she talked quietly to him.

"You thirsty?" she finally thought to ask. She so wasn't the nurturing type. But she did lean forward to pluck the glass of water from the nightstand to offer him a sip.

He nodded and sipped gratefully through the straw. He'd listened to her explanation and become more awake in the telling. He was able to look around more freely and he could see Shirik doing her best to avoid him. He also saw the two armed thugs standing at the doors to Main Sickbay. They looked dark and mean, and they were talking quietly amongst themselves, not particularly paying attention to a patient and his visitors. He held onto Caly's hand with both of his, resting as his head was foggy still. Finally he smiled up at her and kissed the back of her hand.

"You need to rest and get your head cleared," she pronounced and set the glass back on the nightstand. Her eyes studied his and followed his gaze to where Shirik was. "She was very shook up," she told him and turned to look down at that kiss to her hand, her eyes meeting his. "You okay?" she asked.

"I am now," he smiled up at her. "I think I can sleep for a while longer though." He squeezed her hand. He didn't want to do or say anything that would alarm her, nor draw unwanted attention. He certainly didn't want to sleep while two intruders stood over him with weapons. "I'll check with the doc and see when I can get out of here."

"I'll go so you can talk to her?" she asked, her thumb rubbing over his fingers as he squeezed her hand.

"I'd rather you stayed." He looked into her eyes. "Let me be delusional for a while longer eh?" Hhe grinned. Everything had to be normal. He wondered just how many of the armed boarding party there were. He was out of the security loop, but he knew surrender had to have been their only option.

Caly sat and watched him for several heartbeats. That she wasn't happy was faintly noticeable in the very fine lines around her eyes but not actually reflected in their depths. And one had to really look to even see it. "Pander to your delusion?" she smiled faintly at him. "I think I can probably do that..." she answered in a mock grudging tone. "But I need to step out first... I'll be back in five minutes."

He chuckled. "Sure. Send Shiri over here. I guess I have to thank her for saving my ass. No doubt she won't let me forget it." He grinned. "Though it makes us even." He paused and just looked up at her for a moment. "So...do I get a kiss?" He quirked an eyebrow at her.

Caly slid from the bed and leaned over it and him, eyeing him back. "Is this more of the 'pandering to your delusion' thing?" she asked quietly.

"Of course." He smiled and reached up to grab the lapel of her uniform to bring her down to him. He kissed her softly, eyes closed and the monitors above the biobed registered a distinct jump in his heart rate.

Caly braced her hands on either side of him so she didn't mush him or anything, not sure exactly where he'd been injured, and to keep her own stomach from pressing against anything. She drew in that soft, breathless gasp that was becoming almost a habit now, and kissed him back, her lips warm and gentle on his. When she finally pulled them away enough to catch her breath, she whispered, "I'm glad you're okay," against his lips, and pressed another light impulsive quick kiss on his lips and stayed close to whisper a soft, "I'll stand watch when I get back if you want to sleep." She glanced over at their guards and then pulled back to look at him, her demeanor slipping easily back into its distanced state. "I'll send Shiri over." When he released her, she hesitated for just a moment before leaving. She was subdued in a rather quiet, intense manner. She didn't overly smile as she usually did and she seemed very focused on something.

"Sorg would like to see you," she told Shirik as she passed her, urging the Drokari woman in that direction. "I'll be back." She went out of sickbay, glancing at the two guards. They paid her very little attention, which was a curse of being petite, but one that Caly cultivated on occasion. This was one of those occasions.

Shirik nodded at her friend. "All right." She made her way over to Sorg's bed and sat in the chair Caly had vacated, after moving her PADD out of the way. She managed to force a smile onto her features for Sorg. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Doped to the eyeballs," he replied, stifling a yawn. "Thanks for whatever it was you did to get me in here." He waved a hand at the surrounding sickbay. "Caly said you were a little shook up," he spoke quietly. "I'm sorry, Shiri, I guess I screwed up. But thanks...for saving me, and for bringing Caly here."

"I had you beamed in," she said, scooting her chair closer to the bed. She nodded. "There was a lot of blood... I'd never really seen a bloody injured person up close before..." She frowned. "You didn't screw up. Injuries happen in battles. I just got lucky that I didn't get banged around the room, too. It was my pleasure."

"A lot of blood? What happened to me? I know my last fading thought involved trying to push my face into the computer. Did they fix it properly? I wouldn't want my good looks ruined." He grinned rather sleepily.

"It looked like you tried to subdue a console using your face and chest as weapons," she said. "You had broken bones, internal injuries... You really worried me for a while there." She paused. "Your good looks are intact." She reached to take one of his hands in hers. "You look tired, though. You should get some rest."

"You have blood on your uniform," he noticed as she reached for his hand. He didn't object to her holding it, though he did wonder what Calyca would make of it when she came back. "Funny," he said, "I've been through a lot of combat, and I get beaten up by a bloody computer...and I'll rest after all the pretty girls leave sickbay."

It was about then that Caly did step back into Sickbay after slipping down to her room. She didn't immediately go back to where Sorg and Shirik were, although she did glance in their direction. Whether or not she saw them holding hands was certainly not evident on her features, and she moved further inside to find Damhnait...

Shirik glanced down at her sleeve. "Yeah... I haven't had a chance to wash up since it happened. I'm sure we won't stay too long, so you're distracted. I can't stay long in any event."

Sorg nodded toward the guards. "Do you know how many there are?" he asked quietly. "Or anything that might be useful?"

"I was able to get a scan in at the core, I counted thirty," she replied just as quietly. "I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but everyone's been disarmed, including me." Her expression showed how not pleased about that she was.

His mind focused on the information Shirik had gleaned. Thirty heavily armed and armoured soldiers. That was enough to match the entire security department on the Sulu, and they would have all the major areas watched. His eyes flicked over the two by the door, quickly but not enough to make them notice. They were kitted up for riot enforcement, and with all the weapons confiscated it wouldn't take much to subdue the crew. There were a thousand burning questions in his mind but he put them aside for now.

"What's the word from command?" he asked quietly. He saw Caly talking to Damhnait Sefton and he withdrew his hand from Shirik's. He didn't want Caly to get the wrong impression and it had felt uncomfortable anyway.

"All I know is we're supposed to not fight with them and do what they say," she replied. She glanced down when he pulled his hand away, then sat back in her chair, putting distance between them. She folded her hands in her lap.

Caly spoke to Damhnait for several moments before she slipped up onto a biobed and eased herself onto her back. They continued to talk and she rested a hand on her abdomen as the doctor got her tricorder out and began examining her.

Sorg nodded, eyes looking across the room at Calyca being examined. "What's up with Cal?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the red headed engineer.

Shirik followed Sorg's gaze and frowned. She hadn't thought Caly was fully recovered after what had happened earlier, but at least she was getting it looked at. She didn't say anything, just watching.

It was while they were watching that Damhnait reached up with an insistent tap to the surgical support frame, which rolled into place across Caly's body as the engineer and doctor continued to speak in quiet conversation.

Sorg Jurell's eyes narrowed. "She's hurt and she didn't say anything did she?" he surmised in a quiet voice. It was just like her. She'd waited to be sure he was okay first.

Shirik's frown deepened. "It would appear so."

Caly glanced over towards the guards, still speaking softly to the doctor, then her eyes followed the woman's movements as she readied a hypospray. Her green gaze strayed from what Damhnait was doing and clashed headlong with Jurell's.

Jurell raised a brow questioningly at her across the room, his mouth set in a grim line as he shook his head slightly. Then he rolled his eyes pointed a finger at her and gave her a smile. He watched the doctor and Caly intently, seemingly oblivious to Shirik who sat beside him.

Caly looked back at him almost impassively for several heart beats before she let out a quiet sigh and blinked at his smile. Was that bad or good? She thought maybe bad because of that whole eye-rolling, finger pointing thing. She offered him a hesitant smile back and tore her eyes from his to look up at Damhnait and speak softly to her.

Jurell watched for a moment longer and then turned back to Shirik. He looked at her for a long few seconds. "There's something else you're not telling me." His azure blue eyes held hers, his voice relayed a firm knowledge that there was something else, it wasn't a question. "What's happened, Shiri?"

Caly closed her eyes and winced slightly as the doctor administered a hypospray. A few more quietly spoken words passed between them and they both looked up at the overhead monitor. Caly for something to look at and Damhnait to study the readouts as the regeneration process neared its end.

Shirik met Sorg's gaze but turned her eyes back to Caly as she answered him quietly. "Everyone was taken to the cargo bay to be tagged, identified, and reassigned. Caly...disagreed with them taking her tools from her when asking her to work without them. She was...punished."

"Tell me, Shirik. What did they do?" Sorg Jurell's voice was very quiet.

Shirik turned her gaze back to Jurell once more, so the guards wouldn't see her looking their way. "Those rods they carry with them... they're very much like Klingon pain sticks. It's what they use to keep order. They used one on Kaven Lucas in the cargo bay..." She paused at the memory of his screams. "They gave Caly a taste of one, in the belly." Her eyes were cold once more.

Caly and Dr. Sefton seemed to be engrossed in quite a bit of conversation as the doctor finished working on her. The petite engineer tugged at her collar again and eventually sat up on the edge of the biobed once Damhnait removed the surgical frame.

Jurell just nodded. He composed a smile he didn't feel for when Calyca looked over at him. "When they were processing everyone...did you happen to see any of the guys there?" Jurell asked quietly. "The ones I'm used to working with?"

"No," she said quietly. She hoped they'd managed to stay hidden somewhere.

Jurell nodded again. "Good. They don't exist." Then he did smile. It was a rather cold and brutal smile. "Revenge is a dish best served cold, Shirik. You'll have to point out to me which one it was."

As if on cue, Caly looked up and over towards the pair. She looked, thoughtful, pensive, quiet. And she wasn't smiling. She just watched them with large green eyes.

"You may have to stand in line," she said. She absently scratched her neck where the collar's chafing made it itch.

"Just as long as I get a piece," he mused. "Preferably a piece that can scream."

Shirik watched her friend approach. "How you feeling?" she asked quietly.

Sorg Jurell patted the bed beside him and shifted over. He was feeling much better and was sure he didn't need to be confined to Sickbay. He looked up into Caly's eyes as she came over to them, and offered her a smile that held a great deal of affection. His hand reached out for her to take.

"Better," Caly admitted, her hand automatically rubbing her abdomen a little protectively. "You look more awake," she told Jurell as she reached out to take his hand and settled into the bed next to him, turning so she could see him and Shirik both. There was no answering smile to curve her lips and she was on Bismuth now.

Jurell squeezed her hand. "I'm fine. I want out of here." He eyed the Enforcers by the door. Both of them were now watching the two women clustered around Jurell's biobed. One of them had a smirk on his face, the other was laughing quietly at something the other had said. "Are you alright, Cal?" he almost whispered. The concern in his voice was evident. He looked up at her meaningfully.

Shirik was quiet, just watching them and thinking to herself. She refolded her hands in her lap.

Caly's gaze turned from him, following his to the Enforcers and then looking away as a wariness crept in to slightly cloud her green eyes. "No. No, actually, I'm not," she admitted and started to slip back off the bed, her eyes meeting his, their depths unreadable. "I should go. We're attracting attention..." she whispered back. Her hand started to lift to her neck and she forced herself to not finish the movement, not wanting to draw attention to the collar around it either.

Jurell held on to her hand and made her look at him. "Keep your head down, don't look them in the eyes, never talk back to them, obey them if they tell you to do something and stay out of their way. Stay in your room if you have to, but don't talk to them unless they talk to you - and never eyeball them...you got me, girl?" His voice was low and serious. "When the time comes they'll be dealt with. Stay out of harm's way. That's my job."

Shirik nodded agreement with everything Jurell said and got to her feet. "We should go."

Caly had stopped her movement when Jurell kept hold of her hand and was about to speak when Shirik echoed her words. She glanced over at her friend and then turned back to Jurell. "I'll try," was all she said. He got the impression from the look in her eyes that she might have wanted to say more, but didn't. Astatine, number eighty-five, synthesized in 1940 by D.R.... She stood up and stepped back from the bed.

Jurell gave her a serious look. "You'll do it, Cal. Just take care of yourself." The look in his eyes gave Calyca the impression that he too wanted to say more as he released her fingers. He looked across at Shirik and said, "That goes for you too. I'll see you both later. It might be wise for you to stay together - I don't want you staying alone," he said to Calyca.

---

"Anti-Chronitons"

By: Lieutenant Xayella Tagliesh - Chief Science Officer
and Petty Officer 3rd Class Shyla Lynn Moreau - Astometrics Technician

Location: USS Sulu, Cargo Bay 1
Stardate: 57910.17, 16h32

***

Shyla Moreau attempted to move her arm, reminding herself for the tenth time in as many minutes that it was broken. She smothered the grimace on her lips and sank down the bulkhead to a sitting position on the floor, hoping to lose herself among the remaining few crew lined up for processing. Shyla had no way of knowing how the discharge of one of the painsticks would affect her pregnancy. She didn't even want to be a blip on their sensors.

"Well, at least my hopes of being with good company aren't completely dashed." The caustic quip joined the shadow that fell over Shyla, and when she hesitantly looked up, an uncharacteristically warm smile greeted her.

"I thought they had already processed the Bridge crew," Shyla managed, wincing in pain as she started to get up.

"They did," she answered, studying Shyla with growing concern. "But I came down to check on...things." Xayella Tagliesh, appearing tired and harried, crouched before her. She was surprisingly concerned. "You're hurt. Was it them?"

Shyla allowed herself to slide back down to the floor as she shook her head. "It was from the warp core breach," she said, relief on her face at not having to move. "I was trying to boost the sensor gain in one of the alcoves when it hit. One of the Enforcers caught me on the way back to Astrometrics."

Xayella sighed sharply. "Bastards...." Then stood up abruptly. "I'm going to find you a medkit. Stay put."

Shyla reached out and grabbed her leg. "I'll be fine, Lieutenant," she said, looking up at her superior. "As soon as they process me, I'll have someone take a look at my arm." The young woman nodded in the direction of the armored guards from an alternate reality. "I don't want their attention."

She looked disdainfully at Shyla's fingers clutching her pantleg, but the expression transformed to one of reluctant acquiescence and Xayella again hunkered down to sit beside her. "Aside from that injury, how are you coping?"

"I'm...confused, sir," Shyla admitted, letting her gaze drift to the Enforcers working through the line of crew. "I don't get the point of all this. Why do they want the ship?"

"I'm not quite sure myself," Xay told her with a measure of frustration. "I wish I did, but I'm not exactly among those that have access to that privileged information right now."

"Do you know where they assigned Lieutenant Druschev?" Shyla asked, looking around for the Russian woman. "I heard they were slow in securing all the science labs. I know that someone in Astrometrics was pulling data from the sensor logs right before they shut down the department."

"Lieutenant Saavar," Xayella replied, nodding. "He and Lt. Druschev were studying the logs to figure out what the hell happened to us. So far, their explanation is that it was a surge of chronitons emitted by the Dominion ship's explosion."

"By the explosion or by the ship itself?" Shyla asked, furrowing her brow. "If they were attempting to use an interphase cloak when they exploded, that could explain why we survived."

"Druschev does believe the ship seemed out of phase - its neutron and photon phase transition values were abnormal. They didn't postulate, however, what caused it."

"And it doesn't really explain why we're in another reality, does it?" Shyla looked around the cargo bay, allowing her eyes to drift over the grim-faced guards before looking back at Tagliesh. "Is it possible that we missed something in the sector? We were in close to the protostar. The intense stellar activity could have masked a number of minute phenomena."

"Considering where we are now," Xayella posited, "I'd say that's a certainty, unless the ship was equipped with a heavily modified interphase generator, which would explain the high concentration of chronitons, but wouldn't quite explain why we're here now."

"It doesn't seem likely that a ship that size could maintain such a piece of equipment," Shyla agreed, testing her arm a little. "But if there was a quantum singularity within a parsec...even a microscopic one...it would polarize the chronitons and allow the ship to use its warp field to break through quantum barriers."

"If the singularity was created at the point of the explosion," Xayella supposed, "it would explain why we didn't detect it. Though, whether it was done intentionally by that Dominion ship or was some freak consequence of the protostar's ionic interference coupled with the warp core breach...." Xayella shrugged.

"That would make this an accident and I don't think it was, sir," Shyla said, looking around the Cargo Bay again. "The Dominion ship was trying to alter its phase state for a reason, before the explosion. I think they wanted to make a gate."

"Which would imply they were trying to jump to this alternate universe for some reason," she surmised. "But why go alone? Maybe they were a scout vessel?"

"Maybe they were trying to get home," Shyla said gravely, looking at Tagliesh. "I wish we could get access to scan logs of their ship before the explosion. If it was of this reality, it would be obvious in a quantum level scan of their ship."

Xay smirked. "Does it really matter now? We're here and I hardly think they're going to be of much use in helping us, Crewman."

"I know, sir," Shyla shrugged. "But the more we know about them and this...place, the better shot we have of getting out of here."

Xayella smiled and had her hand nearly upon Shyla's forearm until it was stopped inches away by the sharp summons of an enforcer. She looked to Moreau. "Looks like it's your turn. When you're done, come back with me to the Science labs. We can investigate this further there."

"If I can, sir." Shyla pushed off the deck, doing her best to mask her pain. "I'm not sure where I'm going to be assigned."

"It'll likely be engineering, but I'll try and put in a personal request for you to be allowed some time in the labs...with me." She smirked. "Though, considering the options I'm sure you'd rather work in engineering, far from me."

"Why do you say that, sir?" Shyla asked, stepping hesitantly toward the Enforcer motioning for her with his armored hand.

Xay smiled quizzically. "What? You haven't heard all about me yet, Crewman? You really don't get out much, do you?"

"I've never had a problem with you, sir," Shyla smiled. "And, no, I don't get out much."

As soon as Shyla came within reach, the Enforcer grabbed her by her injured arm and pulled her roughly to him. Her painful yelp escaped as a hiss between her lips as the young Petty Officer focused on the deck and tried to stay conscious.

Xayella flinched as her body urged to propel forward and halt the man, but her better judgement willed her to stay. She had heard the tales of enforcers brandishing their painsticks by whim, and for Shyla's own protection, she chose not to intervene. All she could do was grit her teeth and watch. Luckily, it was over as soon as it began, with the enforcer sparing not another glance for Shyla before moving on. Xayella rushed to her side and slipped an arm around Shyla's waist to steady the girl. "You're alright," she assured her.

"She won't be," another Enforcer advised, this one a dark skinned female with sharp features and a PADD in her hand. "Not until she learns to come when she's called." The guard looked over the huddled Shyla with a bored expression then at the PADD. "What's her name?"

"Moreau," Shyla said from between clenched teeth. She looked up at her tormentor and presented her palm. "Shyla Moreau."

The Enforcer didn't take her eyes off the PADD while the other confirmed her identity with a DNA scan. He nodded curtly at his female superior. "Engineering. Alpha. Report to your quarters until your shift."

"No," Xayella interjected. The taller, heavily equipped enforcer frowned with menace. Xayella hastily, yet with practiced composure continued, "I need her with me, in the Science lab. I've had it approved by Commander Lyrr. Go ahead and ask her if you like; this woman here is the best officer I have and is wasted languishing away in here with these incompetents. I'm sure your captain will agree."

"I wouldn't make assumptions on the Captain's behalf," she warned, looking Tagliesh in the eye for several long heartbeats. "Very well. She may assist you until 2000 hours. But tomorrow...Engineering. Alpha shift."

Xayella nodded noncommittally, then steered Shyla away from the severe woman. "But before that," she whispered, "go see Doctor Sefton."

"Yes, sir," Shyla whispered back, starting down the corridor in a direction opposite of Tagliesh. "Lieutenant?" she called back after several steps.

Xay stopped and turned back. "What is it?" she whispered impatiently.

"Thank you," she said simply, before continuing on her way.

She smiled queerly and shook her head as she walked off in the opposite direction. "Thanks?" she muttered. "For what?" And she remained truly perplexed even as she entered the lift.

---

"Fix Me"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Chief Petty Officer Calyca Boothroyd - Engineering Crewchief

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters and Sickbay
Stardate: 57910.17, 16h50

***

Caly made her way down to her quarters after she left Sickbay. She kept a hand pressed to her stomach, trying to help lessen the pain she was in and ignored it for now, as best as she could. She couldn't linger because she didn't want them coming to look for her, and she'd told Jurell she'd be back in five minutes. That was probably a gross under estimate. But perhaps he wouldn't notice with Shirik there to keep him occupied... And if she didn't dawdle maybe it wouldn't be too gross of an under estimate.

She moved through her quarters, gathering up the tools laying around and stowing them both in the pack she carried and on her person. She felt...strange hiding her tools and even now didn't understand why they'd confiscated them. It wasn't like they were weapons, or like they hadn't given her practically the same thing again. They were just...not hers and felt strange in her hands. She might as well be using gorilla tools. They were awkward and cumbersome and unwieldy, and... And okay, so they were probably a comfort thing too. And she did feel sort of vulnerable and exposed without them. She couldn't help idly wondering what Dr. Potts would make of that. But as weird as he was he might think it perfectly normal. For her, at least. So she gathered her own tools and even though they weren't the ones she used every day, they were hers and they did fit her hands perfectly. Besides quite a few of them were the intricate ones she needed for her spiders and hopefully to get this damned collar off her neck.

She grabbed one of her PADDs and her fingers began moving over the controls. Spiders began coming out of their hiding places and gathering around here as she keyed in several series of commands. "Okay, you guys.... Time to play hide and seek and keep watch on the nasty invading goons. Think of them as a virus... Or maybe worms infecting our systems." She ignored any hissing as she picked up each one in turn, checking them over and running a quick diagnostic.

"Oh-Nine.... I need you to figure out the schematic on this collar," she murmured as she punched in commands and the spider in question responded by crawling up her body, its forelegs reaching inside her turtleneck so it could run its tiny hair-like sensors over the collar's surface from beginning to end. All the information it gathered was sent to the PADD in her hands and she frowned as her eyes scanned the readout. "Well...." she sighed in frustration. "This is going to be almost impossible...." She filed the information away, encrypting the file and hiding it.

"Alright... Off you go," she told the one on her neck, her fingers still keying in commands as it climbed from her and joined the others. "Double-Oh-Seven.... Your job... Should you choose to accept it..." She smirked at the black spider with black widow markings. "Is to find Watson. You'll have to reassemble him when you do, because I screwed up and got him captured..." she murmured, the stylus in her fingers moving swiftly over the display. "Okay, guys.. Stealth mode: Set to Maximum. Self Preservation mode: Set to Maximum. Don't get caught, and off you go, my pretties..." She mock cackled lightly.

She set them loose in the access panel so they could make their way to various parts of the ship and then slipped into the refresher before heading back to Sickbay. A deep frown marred her brow and she kept a hand resting almost protectively on her abdomen. It was definitely time to see the doctor.

***

Caly stepped back into Sickbay and glanced over to where Sorg and Shirik were, noting that they seemed engrossed in conversation. Which was good because she needed to find a doctor before going back to Jurell, and proceeded to do just that, hunting Sefton down, although she wasn't all that difficult to find. She approached her and softly cleared her throat. "Ma'am?"

Though her shift was over, Damhnait had remained in Sickbay. She was standing beside the main biobed, and was reading over a PADD. Sefton's head perked up at the noise, and she muttered, "Hmm?"

"Ma'am... I'm not interrupting, I hope," she offered quietly, watching her for some moments before continuing. "Can I get you to take a look at me, please?" she asked, her voice still quiet. She tugged at the control collar around her neck just under her uniform absently. "And not make a big fuss over it?"

Damhnait's genial smile turned into more of a grimace. "I have my duty. ...But I can probably give you a warned head start before I make a fuss." She took up a slim medical tricorder from the indenture in the bulkhead, and, before pointing it at the Engineer, she conspiratorially asked, "Do you already know what I'm going to find?"

Caly settled onto the biobed a bit slowly and laid down. "I'm not sure. I think just some bruising. I got tossed around Engineering a bit," she admitted. "Hit here..." She rested a hand on her lower abdomen and hip. "And I konked my head a little. Got a wee bit of a headache," she added.

"I will prescribe you something for the headache," Damhnait told her, regarding the biobed monitor. Directing the medical tricorder over where Caly put her hand, Sefton nodded. "You've got bruising of the soft tissue. Extensive bruising," Sefton corrected herself. She frowned; from the readings, it appeared that Caly's bruised tissue had been subjected to an energy discharge. Considering the situation, it had likely been a pain stick. Resolving to remain positive, Sefton promised her, "I can handle it."

"I got in a wee bit of a disagreement with the head guard," she admitted, and didn't go into the degree of pain, or the force of the blow. She didn't go into the why, but she was thinking about just coming back from her room and that part of her problem was solved. "That sounds like I'm good to go then?" she asked hopefully, green eyes watching her. "I don't think I can afford to be down just now. And I don't want Shirik or Jurell to worry." And she needed to find a way to get this damn collar from around her neck.

"Not quite yet. Hand-held tools won't do," Sefton told her, with an insistent tap to the surgical support frame, which rolled into place across Caly's body. She quickly activated the regenerative fields and promised her, "But you will be very shortly."

Caly eyed her and quirked a brow. "This isn't going to hurt, is it? Or give me the willies? Or make me feel like I have ants crawling around inside me?" It was hard to tell if she was joking or not, but she was up to Tantalum on the Periodic Table.

"It already started," Damhnait informed her, offering a small smile. "You shouldn't feel anything at all."

Caly blinked and quirked a brow at the doctor, her gaze going from her to where the armed guards were standing watch. "I don't. Thank you." She looked back up at her. "I'm just a wee bit distracted, so forgive me." Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. "They sent in strange engineers to work on her," she confided to the doctor and her voice sounded like that was the most sacrilege thing that could happen. Almost like the Sulu had been raped.

"I'm fortunate that they are not expecting me to trust any of their strange doctors," Damhnait shared, once she loaded a hypospray.

"Exactly, Ma'am," Caly nodded, confident that Damhnait knew how she felt from what the doctor had said. "They just don't have the right...touch," the engineer observed.

"Perhaps you can teach them?" Damhnait suggested, struggling to find a silver lining that did not include overt aggressive actions to take back the Sulu.

"I don't think..." she kept her voice low and her gaze strayed from Sefton's only to meet Jurell's head on. "That they want to learn, Ma'am..." She offered Jurell a small hesitant smile in return even though he rolled his eyes and pointed at her. She didn't think he looked very happy. She tore her gaze away from his and looked back up at the Doctor. "They're very...dark. I'm not sure I want them to know what I know.... And I've been found out." She offered the woman a small smile. She was on number seventy-five now, Rhenium.

"I suppose I forgot to warn you before I made a fuss," Damhnait said contritely, and administered the hypospray.

"It's alright, Ma'am..." She gave her a faint smile. "I'm sort of in a 'bite me' mood anyway, so although I'm concerned, I'm not sure I really care," she told the woman honestly and closed her eyes with a small wince at the hypospray. "Is that going to make me sleep?"

"Not at all. It will only take the pain away," Sefton replied, wishing it could also prevent future pain. Glancing at the overhead monitor, she told Caly, "You're almost free to go."

"Thank you, Ma'am." She opened her eyes and offered Sefton a small smile before her gaze followed the woman's to the overhead monitor, or what she could see of it. "I would have done exactly what they wanted," she murmured quietly, letting out a little sigh as the pain began to lessen.

"That was immaterial to them," Damhnait responded, just as quietly. "I would not waste the time and effort on attempting to attribute rational thought to their actions. If they can't be bothered to do so, why should you?"

"It's my nature, Ma'am." Her gaze dropped to the good doctor's and she raised a hand to absently tug and scratch at her uniform and the thin metal linked collar around her throat beneath it. "I can't claim total innocence though because I did technically argue," she admitted to Damhnait. "I can generally rival my mother for diplomacy, but sometimes I have bouts of what she calls, my 'bull in the china shop' stubbornness. I'm afraid the guards have china toes."

"I very much doubt they were the least bit offended by what you said. They are simply sadistic," Damhnait flatly said. "I'm not saying they deserve death or punishment for that, but it is a simple fact that very few of us will be able to predict their motives or behavior."

"That's true. I know I can't. I certainly didn't predict what they did," she agreed. "Or this..." she indicated the metal collar around her throat, tugging at it lightly in frustration before letting it slip back under her turtleneck.

Doctor Sefton pursed her lips, nodded slightly, and adjusted the controls on the surgical support frame. Although Caly could not physically feel the regenerative fields, the Engineer was the only one close enough to the biobed to notice that Sefton had deactivated the fields. She did not release Boothroyd, though. Sefton directed every heightened resource of the overhead sensor cluster onto the control collar around Caly's neck, and instructed the computer to only display the results onto her PADD.

Caly fell quiet as she realized what Sefton was doing and simply watched the doctor, making a mental note to...compare results later....

Sefton read that mental note. Before too much time had passed, Damhnait washed Caly in another burst of the regenerative field, and then retracted the surgical support frame. "You should be feeling better now;" Sefton smiled.

Caly drew in a breath and let it out before nodding a little. "Yes, Ma'am. Much better. Thank you." She sat up carefully and shifted until her legs were dangling over the edge. She sat there for several moments without moving.

"Is there anything else?" Sefton asked.

The petite engineer seemed to actually consider this. "They took all my things," Caly admitted and gave Damhnait a sort of wry smile. "And I usually carry..." She shook her head in afterthought. "But it's okay. I can just come see you when I need to. Probably better that way. So...no, nothing else, Doctor. Thanks again." She slipped off the biobed and shouldered her pack before heading over to where Jurell and Shirik were still talking.

---

"Eyes and Ears"

Lieutenant Brennyn Scott; Chief Counselor
Lieutenant j.g. Ilan Potts; Assistant Chief Counselor
Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Galil F'Zal; Counselor [NPC]

Location: USS Sulu, Counseling
Stardate: 57910.17 18h35

***

There wasn't a whole lot she would let herself think about their current predicament. Thinking, Bree reasoned logically, was only going to make this more difficult to get through. She had to be strong, had to have faith, had to act as though there was hope even if she did not feel it. Did she? The pat answer came to her immediately. Of course! She was a Starfleet Officer after all. But another darker (albeit smaller) part of her was terrified, weary, and most of all running out of patience.

She'd just come from being processed... She shuddered. "Process" was something of a buzz word for people working in the field of mental health. Bree had even found herself using the word on occasion, by accident mostly. Scott preferred to speak plainly, finding no purpose in making things sound more mysterious than they were. To process something in shrink speak simply involved becoming aware of one's thoughts and feelings, to actively acknowledge and modify them where necessary. It simply meant moving forward, and even though Bree knew things were moving on, she couldn't help but wonder what they were barreling toward. Scott snorted. "Process." She hated that damn word.

***

Ainsley had checked the schedule and knew that Bree didn't have anyone in for an appointment at the moment, so she walked over and rang the chime at the Chief Counselor's door. She'd been wanting to talk to her for a long time and just hadn't had the opportunity.

The call for her to enter only took a couple of seconds and then she stepped into the office.

"Hey, Bree," Ainsley began.

Scott turned her attention away from her ruminations and turned, a slight smile on her face. "What's got you in such a decent mood?"

Ainsley shrugged. "I don't know that I'm any happier than anyone else right now, but it doesn't hurt to at least look it. People will be looking to us keep their spirits up."

Scott smiled wanly. "I see someone's been paying attention in staff meetings..." Bree sighed and her voice took on a more universe weary quality. "Sometimes I get so tired of keeping up the brave front all the time, no matter how important I know it is. When I come here, I feel like I can finally be me, warts and all."

The door chimed again and Doctor Potts entered. The normally jovial Counselor didn't look particularly terrified but he wasn't his usual self. Something had his brow furrowing deep and his expression was twisted into a question mark.

"Now I know we're in trouble," remarked Bree, "I thought surely you would have an encouraging word, Ilan."

"Hmmm?" Potts came a little out of his reflection and shook his head to clear it. He did manage a smile. "Oh, no...I'm hardly tempered by our bleak situation. I just had a series of the most perplexing encounters while I --"

The doorchime sounded. Twice in quick succession.

"Come in," called Bree.

F'zal came through the door. "So," he said dryly. "How are we all feeling?"

"Why don't you get you get off your empathic ass and tell us that, Galil," returned Brennyn with a teasing smirk.

"Fair enough," F'Zal said with mocking imperiousness. "Brennyn, you're frightened, for yourself and for the crew. Ainsley, you're equally scared, but determined to keep up a cheerful front in spite of it all, and Ilan." He paused; trying to sift through the half-Deltan's jumble of thoughts was always a chore. "The sock with the latinum is under the center cushion of your couch?" he ventured, picking something off the top of the pile.

"Eh?" Again, Potts was summoned out of his self-absorption. "Yes, the sock with latinum. Very good. Thank you."

"I have news from a certain resourceful Ensign known to us all, angry, affectionate, or. . . dodgy," F'Zal carried on.

Ainsley smiled. He could only be talking about one person. "Speaking with Mason, were you? How was he?"

"He was well, though the ship's only been occupied for a matter of hours. Anything can happen. In fact," F'Zal said. "Anything is exactly what he's hoping for from us."

"Anything?" Ainsley asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"Apparently the good Ensign's already forming a plan, and to determine a course of action, he thought we might begin quietly evaluating our guests. I seem to recall his," F'Zal paused, considering the next word, "words," he said finally, then carried on, "were 'I need to know who's for sale, and for how much'. Any information we can give him on the mental and emotional states and weaknesses of the invaders would be most helpful."

"You are in a better position to share that with Mister Farrell than any of us, dear boy." Potts settled into Bree's couch, half his mind still on other things. "You get to rummage around in the attic --" Potts tapped the side of his head "-- whereas we three are limited to peeking in the windows." Potts considered his words, a small smile dawning. "Unless we expect the Enforcers to be making appointments?" he asked hopefully, delighted at the prospect of examining minds from an alternate universe.

"No," F'Zal answered Ilan with a small mollifying smile. "But it cannot be denied that we four have been dealing with a wide variety of neuroses since we came aboard, and even you mouth-talkers can spot the problems before bringing people in. We ought to be able to 'get the lay of the land' among these people with relative ease."

Scott leaned back in her chair thoughtfully while Ainsley carefully formulated her impressions thus far. F'Zal looked at both the women, shuffling through their thoughts with them.

"The Enforcers seem to be afraid of me," Ilan volunteered helpfully even as he sounded utterly perplexed by the idea.

"Afraid of you?" Ainsley asked, surprised that they would be afraid of anyone. "Why do you say that?"

"Why indeed?" F'Zal added.

"I haven't a clue," Potts shrugged, crossing his legs at the knee. "I should say that it doesn't seem to be all of the enforcers...that Hadek stared at me like a hungry man regarding a pork chop...but the young woman who did my processing blanched at the very sight of me and showed several classic signs of anxiety. Sweat. Stuttering. She even called me 'm'lord'."

"Possibly you're a god in the Mirror Universe as well, Doctor?" Ainsley said. Another thought that entered her mind was that maybe he was some ruthless killer like others seemed to be, but she didn't voice the thought just yet. F'Zal arched an eyebrow at her unspoken thought.

"That would be most remarkable," Potts stated with a smile, seemingly unbothered by the events surrounding his last attempt at divinity. If he shared Ainsley's darker misgivings, it didn't show.

"Yeah, I guess being a god in two separate universes would be pushing it a little, eh?" Ainsley said with a grin. "But do you think, maybe, there is an Ilan Potts in this universe that is feared for some reason?"

"That seems a likelier scenario," Potts admitted with a small frown. "But in absence of details, I'm not sure it's of much use to us." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I'm their Emperor? It's a step down from demigod to be sure but I'd still be doing very well for myself, eh?"

"Perhaps you and I could spend an afternoon strolling the ship, Ilan," F'Zal mused. "You could engage enforcers in conversation, and I could determine your status."

"A very risky proposition sure to get me a painstick," Ilan said, still frowning. He looked at F'Zal. "You might want to keep your abilities close to the vest for the time being. I've heard several of the enforcers disparaging a few of the Vulcans. One of them called Crewman D'Naal a 'bloody mind-reader' while she was being processed. He painsticked her for no reason."

F'Zal considered that carefully. "Perhaps passive observation is preferable, then."

"Certainly anything we can gather should be helpful," Potts said encouragingly with a waning smile that slowly faded outright as he looked back to F'Zal. "Would you happen to know if Ensign Farrell's 'plan' is part of some larger scale effort by the command structure?"

Bree regarded F'Zal carefully. Knowing Mason, it was just as likely he was undertaking this scheme all on his own, although she sincerely doubted any of the rest of the senior staff were prepared to sit on their hands. "Knowing Lyrr, there's most certainly something afoot," remarked Bree, "and if there is, we certainly don't want to risk sabotaging such an effort by doing much more than continuing to observe our captors until we know for sure." She looked to F'Zal. "I haven't been able to speak to anyone on senior staff, do you know anything for certain about an 'effort' in motion?"

"Nothing certain," F'Zal murmured. "Based on surface thoughts during processing, everyone has a plan. It remains to be seen who'll move to coordinate everything. The command staff wasn't present in the bay, so there's no telling what they're considering. It may be a day before something coherent manifests."

"So I'd suggest observation for now," replied Bree, "and in the meantime, I'll see about approaching Commander Lyrr to see if there's a clear and directed plan in motion. No sense diving headfirst into this until we know what's up."

All Ainsley wanted to do was dive headlong into project that Mason had given them. He needed their help, she'd offered it already and he said he'd contact her. Now was the time and she hated not doing everything they could to help out.

That was what she was feeling in her heart. Her head was telling her that Bree was right though. Simple observation would be the best thing for them to do at the moment. She nodded. "Observation it is then."

The four looked silently at each other, and nodded.

---

"Baby Sitter"
By: CPO Calyca Boothroyd, Engineering Crewchief
Crewman Sorg Jurell, Security Crewman

Location: USS Sulu, Boothroyd's Quarters
Stardate: 57910.17, 22h30

***

Sorg Jurell wore his Class A uniform, and it didn't hide his now heavily muscled form as he walked the corridors of the Sulu with a PADD in his hand and a neutral expression. The two Enforcers he'd passed as he went by the Mess Hall had been carefully watching everyone, and Jurell made sure that they didn't get a good look at his face.

So far they were in control of the Transporter Rooms, Mess Hall, Officers Lounge.... He knew they would be on the Bridge and the Security Office and the Armoury. Two were in sickbay. Obviously any location that could have crew gathering for any reason was covered.

They were all alert, all careful to keep good positions and none were in locations where they could be blind-sided. They were pros that was for sure. But he was gathering intelligence on their opponents. Carefully noting in his memory the weapons, disposition, armour capability, communications methods - as much as he could on a walk through.

He found himself at his destination and stopped to glance each way and then he pressed the chime.

Caly's head snapped up and she stared at the door. "Computer, identify person requesting permission to enter."

"Crewman Sorg is requesting permission to enter."

"Come," she called softly. She was dressed in cotton drawstring pants and camisole and was sitting on the floor with a PADD and some diagnostic equipment setting on the low table in front of her.

Jurell stepped through the door and stopped as his eyes flicked across the room. Noting nothing out of place and Caly sitting calmly on the floor he stepped over. His smile faded as soon as his eyes caught sight of the collar around her neck. He'd seen three so far, one of them was on Kaven Lucas and he had explained what they were for.

He knelt down in front of her and reached out a hand to cup her cheek. "You okay?" he asked carefully.

"Okay is a very relative term nowadays," she offered quietly and reached a hand up to touch his wrist. The depths of her green eyes were troubled and there were very faint shadows under them. Her neck was slightly reddened under the collar. "Have you been able to find out anything?"

He nodded, but his eyes were firmly fixed on hers. He knelt fully in front of her and drew her into an embrace, holding her against him as if she was delicate and could break. "I won't let them hurt you again, Caly," he said softly, but it was said with a steely conviction.

"You might not have a choice." Her voice broke just a bit and she closed her eyes, letting her slight weight rest against his. "I was mouthy," she admitted. "And I argued. And I stared him right in the eyes." Looking back she knew she'd pushed too hard. At the time it just seemed like the guy was being a bully for no reason and Caly couldn't stand bullies. And if the truth were known...she wasn't sure that she wouldn't do the same thing again.

"It won't happen again," he said softly stoking her hair. "Kaven and I have a plan. We're going to neutralize those collars. It won't be too hard. But I'll need your help."

She had wrapped her arms around his neck while he hugged her, and hugged him back. She shook her head at his words and breathed out a soft sigh. "I don't think you can. I had Oh-Nine do a brief scan on it and it looked virtually impossible. I was just getting ready to do a deeper one," she told him and pulled back to look at him. "You start messing with it, and it'll blow up."

He gave her a grin. "We're not going to mess with the collar," he said slyly, his arms pulling her closer. "They wear devices on their belts that trigger the collars. It's a remote. We just have to find the right frequency and jam the damned things." He kissed her lightly on the lips. "Kaven is going to provoke one of the Enforcers to trigger the collar. We need to scan the collar's response and the activation frequency. We'll need one of your eight legged buddies."

Caly blinked and her jaw dropped a bit and for all of a second. "Holy shit, I think that'll work!" She wiggled from his arms and turned to reach for her PADD. "But dangerous... They could kill him with that thing," she told him as her fingers moved over the keys, pulling up her encrypted program. "Decrypt Booter file Watson, authorization Alpha-Nine-Charlie-Seven," she commanded softly. "I let them loose on the ship and placed them in strategic places," she told Jurell, glancing up from the readout to give him a wry smile. "I can call one back, or you can just do it near one of their locations..." When the program came up, she worked the stylus over the surface until a graphical representation of the ship appeared. "The green dots are the spider's locations," she handed him the PADD. "Touch one and you'll bring him online and you can get a SitRep from it with full video and audio."

Sorg Jurell took the padd and laughed. Pure delight shone in his eyes as he looked at her. "This is beautiful," he said. "You're beautiful!" He leaned in and kissed her exuberantly, taking her in his arms and lifting her as he chuckled and kissed her again. "Tactical Intelligence. Prophets girl!"

"Ack!!" She held on as she was lifted, breathless from the exuberant kiss only to get kissed again. "Well, that wasn't what I'd originally intended them for, but they can do that easily enough," she admitted with a soft laugh.

"I need you to get a spider ready with the tricorder functions and the ability to jam one of the devices. If it works then we can duplicate them, and give portable jammers to those with collars for the time we'll need them." He chuckled and sat back, sitting her on his knees. "You're a very clever girl," he whispered, "and I think I'm falling in love with you."

Caly laughed and started to answer and then blinked at him, rather dumbfounded. "Ooohnonono.... Don't you dare." She shook a warning finger at him and gave him a look to go with it. "Now pay attention." She took up the PADD and stylus. "They have some tricorder functions now. Just not the power a tricorder has. My original design was to send them into places I couldn't get to for a hands-on site inspection to aid in diagnosing problems. So they were like...extensions of my tricorder," she explained. "They've kind of evolved since then because I can't stop tweaking them," she admitted as she pulled up one of the spiders. "Jamming should just be a matter of tweaking their transceiver algorithms to output an opposing frequency...." she rambled. "This is Double-oh-seven." She showed him the one spider that was on the move where all the others were stationary. "He's looking for Watson."

"Why what happened to Watson?" he asked a little bemused by her reaction, but he was grinning.

"I got him captured," she admitted with a sigh and leaned back against him, PADD still in her hands as she checked the 'hunt for Watson' progress. "He was in my pack when they confiscated it," she told him. "In pieces."

"Then leave it be," he warned. "The last thing we want is these spiders compromised. What if they've put the confiscated equipment in the Armoury...or even destroyed it. Don't draw attention to them. Call off this search for a missing spider that didn't work well anyway. If they find it and trace them back here...because one was taken off you to begin with....." He left the threat of what might happen to her imagination. "I'm going to stay with you," he made up his mind suddenly. "I'll sleep on the couch, but you're not staying here alone. I don't like the stories I've heard already."

"Stories? What stories?" she frowned at him and then looked down at the PADD in her hands. "But... But it's Watson.... It doesn't matter that he didn't work right, he's..." she motioned lightly with a hand, lost as to how and explain it. "He's in pieces... You'd have to know what it was to put it together," she told him as she reached up a hand to tug at the collar in frustration and scratch the skin under it.

"I... I can't just...abandon him... I can't leave him behind... It's... It's... Watson..." Her agitation drove her off his knees and she started pacing, one hand clutching the PADD to her chest and the other scratching and tugging at the collar around her neck. How did she explain an irrational attachment to a mechanical thing and not sound totally insane? The fact that he said he was staying the night was lost on her for the moment. She finally turned to him and offered a simple, "But he was my very first..." As if that would explain it.

"Stop playing with that collar," he said seriously. "I understand, okay - your first. I can understand that. What I mean is - leave it be and don't send a spider looking for it. I'm sure that after this is over we'll recover it...but get the other spider discovered and we're in trouble." He frowned. "It's the only one moving - and internal sensors might pick it up."

She just looked at him for several long moments, her eyes reflecting what she was feeling for just a fleeting breath before it was gone and she turned them down to the PADD in her hands as she issued the command sequence that would stop the search. "I'll get you a blanket." She set the PADD on the low table and turned to head into the bedroom area.

"Don't worry, Cal - we'll find Watson." He reached out to touch her. "I'm sorry."

Caly stopped when he reached out to touch her and stretched her hand out to his. "Don't be sorry," she replied quietly. "You were right. I was letting my emotions rule my decisions and I know better," she admitted and reached her free hand up to scratch the reddened skin under it. "But the damn collar itches."

He stood rather gracefully for a man his size, and slid his arms around her. He pulled her into an embrace and sighed, "I don't want anything to happen to you. I don't think I could handle that...you're too important to me, Cal. More important than anything." His voice was soft and barely audible. "Please don't do anything for them to use this thing...please."

She let herself be pulled into his embrace and her body relaxed, the tension that'd held her back almost ramrod straight eased some. "I won't go out of my way to provoke them, Jurell," she assured him. "But I'm not going to help them take the Sulu. And I'll do whatever I can to prevent it."

He nodded, he felt the same way. The Sulu was home. It was where his heart lay. He'd give his life freely to keep her free of the bastards that roamed her decks and had put a slave collar on the woman he loved. It had taken the threat to her, the thought of someone hurting her and his reaction to it all for him to come to terms with that admission. He knew it deep down, he was in love with her. She wouldn't be able to accept that just yet...and that was okay. He knew it for what it was. It wasn't a superficial thing, not this time. They just clicked in every way. They thought the same way about so much, and being with her...seemed to oddly complete him. He'd never thought that he needed to be complete...as in he'd never imagined that he needed anything or anyone to fill in the gaps, but now he realized that there were gaps because she seemed to fill them.

"We'll do what we have to, Calyca, we're both Starfleet Officers, and sacrifice comes with the territory. But whatever happens...we do it together."

Caly was blissfully unaware of his thoughts and discoveries. She wasn't nearly at the point of admitting that she loved anything other than the Sulu. Seeing him lying in the biobed had made her realize that she cared for Jurell more than she'd known and there was a rapidly growing affection for him taking root, but she wouldn't call that love because she wasn't sure what love was. Like him, she did realize that they got along exceptionally well together. And he did put up with her idiosyncrasies and her quirky behavior, and didn't even seem to mind her absent mindedness, which said a lot to her.

Caly nodded and let out a soft huff of breath. "Alright. I promise I won't go out of my way to stomp on their toes unless you're there, okay?"

He grinned. "Okay," and he gazed into her eyes once again, just because he wanted to. He'd already memorized her face. He smiled more affectionately, and kissed her forehead, softly, pressing his lips to her skin as he held her a little tighter. "We'll get through this," he promised. "And we'll find Watson for you."

She closed her eyes when he kissed her forehead and let out a soft sigh as he held her more tightly. She was starting to like this way more than was probably healthy for her. "Poor Watson, he's been through so much," she mused. "And I know we will... These guys don't scare me. They're just overgrown bullies. I hate bullies. Maybe we can taint their food...." The wheels were starting to turn in that red head of hers.

"They control the replicators now," he pointed out. "Besides...that isn't our way. It may be theirs...but we have our way of dealing with things, the Federation way."

Caly quirked her brow at him. "Wait... There's a proper way to escape oppression? I think I missed that in my training," she admitted.

"There's a proper way for everything, Cal," he said with a wry smile. "It's what sets us apart from them. The way we go about doing things says who we are. Actions speak louder than words, and how we act tells the universe that we're the good guys. It's important. It's what wins us respect, and even our enemies know that we keep our word, honor our promises and are bound by our treaties. You can't win trust in an enemy by laying aside the rules. Even if they do."

Caly listened closely, nodding a bit because she agreed with everything he said really, and told him so. "I agree will all that. Although I'm a bit confused how incapacitating your enemies falls in the bad guy realm...." she added. "But... " She held up a finger and smiled a little wryly. "I don't think I'm in the best mood right now to discuss morality in a rational manner and would probably grossly distort my own views."

"Well we'd never succeed in incapacitating them that way. They all eat at different times, you'd never get more than three, and then the others would get wise." He shrugged. "Then they'd start shooting I guess...and while they control the Bridge and main Engineering we can't really do anything...and they'd sure as the Prophets live in a wormhole contact the Windsor and make us all pay...and the Captain. I wonder what they're doing with the Captain? I hope he's okay...damn. Salinger must be the unluckiest Captain I've ever heard of. He's been stabbed, nearly blown up, and now he's been kidnapped. We have to save him, Caly."

"And we will," she assured him simply. There really was no other option in her mind. At least none that she'd give any thought or energy to. "And we'll recover the Sulu in the process. This is our ship, Jurell. And our Captain. These people may have the upper hand for now, but they have underestimated us if they think we're just going to roll over and play dead for them," she snorted softly. "You know... If we can get them out of Engineering and incapacitate the Bridge, we can take control of the ship..." she mused thoughtfully. "What did you plan to do once you have the frequency on the collars?" she asked. "What about neutralizing the pain sticks?"

"Hand weapons aren't important, we need to make sure they can't hold the rest of us hostage for the ones wearing collars. We can take the Bridge once we take the Transporters. They are the key when retaking a ship. With them, we can take them easily. It's access and control. The Bridge, Main Engineering and Transporters."

Caly nodded. "You'll need Paddy for the Transporters. No one on this ship knows them better than he does," she told him, even though it was probably something he likely knew already. "What's to keep them from taking several of us and using the pain sticks on them to keep everyone in line?"

"We just need to take them. Once we do that the TAC Team can do the rest." He rubbed her back, as they were still wrapped in each others arms. It felt good. "It's late. We should try to get some sleep."

"I don't know if I can just yet," she told him. "I'll lay down, but no guarantees. I may be back up in half an hour messing with something," she smiled a little. "I'd make you sleep in the bed, but if Shiri comes back I don't know where she'd sleep then... I can see now that I'm going to need more room if you two are going to insist on staying with any regularity," she teased a little.

"Bed's okay for you two. I'll take the couch. I'll move it closer to the door." He smiled at her offer to sleep on the bed. He wasn't even going to go there...let alone sleeping on a bed with Shirik. Prophets....

"Alright. I'll try not to wake you when I get up." She pulled back and smiled a little. "I should get you a blanket." She wasn't even going to argue against him staying. She didn't think it would do any good for one thing. And it did feel comforting in an odd way, to have him around.

"You'll wake me. I'm a very light sleeper. I'll lock the door with my security clearance, if it still works...mind you it won't do much good. " He smiled. "Except of course in keeping you in."

Caly rolled her eyes and grinned at him. "You're very funny," she laughed a little. "What if Shirik comes back? How will she get in? For the record, I'm a light sleeper too, and I'm certainly not used to people sleeping over."

"Well...she could knock." He grinned. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience...really, but I'd be so afraid to go back to my quarters and share with the other three guys. Besides they snore." He rolled his eyes to match hers. "You don't snore do you?" He looked at her suspiciously. "At least we have one mercy...the replicators are off-line which means Shirik can't make herself any of that Klaas." He waved a hand in front of his face. "Eeeee the smell."

"It's not that bad," she tsked and lightly slapped him on the shoulder. "We figured it's something with Bajoran noses. T'Kal told her the same thing. She won't drink it in public anymore. I think she got her feelings hurt about that. Besides, she doesn't need the replicators, she can just brew it from her Tasmos. I don't mind the smell actually... And the fumes always get me slightly high," she admitted. "And I might snore... Horribly. But I don't know. You'd have to ask Shiri."

He grinned, finally giving her a light kiss before letting her go. He moved over to the couch and moved in between the bed and the door as Calyca fetched him a spare blanket. "I wonder where she is?" he asked idly. She'd been gone a fair while now, and it was now Gamma shift.

Caly shrugged and tossed him the blanket. "Probably to go see Saavar. I don't really want babysitters, you know. So I suggested she go see if she could find out anything from him. I sort of thought she might stay with him and not come back and hover. I didn't realize you'd show up to replace her," she told him as she retrieved her PADD, but she smiled a little to let him know she didn't mind as much as it might have sounded. "Did you know she has a collar too?" she asked and flicked hers disgustedly. "I was hoping Saavar would keep her because if the goons come to take her, there isn't much I could do to stop them."

"Well she's not here...so I'd think that she's staying with him...which is good." He grinned. "So...it's just you and me."

Caly quirked a brow at him and hmmm'd. "That grin looks almost menacing," she accused teasingly and sprawled crosswise in the chair as her fingers moved over the PADD's controls, bringing her program up and the spiders into 'ready' mode. "Is it?" she grinned back.

He laughed. "Don't mind me. I'm as dangerous as a Tribble," he joked. He sat on the sofa and kicked off his boots, sliding his feet up and crossing his arms behind his head. "You're not tired," he accused. "What are you going to do?"

"Tribble... Right," she snorted softly and looked over as he made himself comfortable. "I'm not tired," she agreed. "Allowing for the imposed restrictions placed on my activities, right now I'm going to go ahead and program the spiders to monitor and record any radio transmissions," she explained. "That way all of them will be 'listening' when you and Kaven do your thing. I can go in the bedroom area if I'm going to bother you," she offered.

He smiled affectionately. "You're no bother. You ought to know that by now." He yawned. "How do you get by with so little sleep?" he asked stifling another yawn.

"It's my metabolism.... And I'm slightly hyperactive," she mused, her voice starting to quiet as she observed him trying not to yawn. "My brain is always working on something. You should sleep." Now it was her turn to smile a bit affectionately over at him.

"I will," he smiled. He looked at her, watching her as she went back to work on her padd. He was content to slip into silence. Every so often they would smile at each other, but he found it more difficult to remain awake as the time passed. He slipped into sleep.

Caly couldn't help the smile that curved her lips when she saw him finally asleep. She'd thought he was going to stay awake watching her work all night. Not that she'd minded because he didn't natter incessantly and distract her, or try and carry on in depth conversations while she was trying to work. He just...let her work. Which she continued to do, updating the spiders until she had them tweaked to do what she understood Jurell wanted. It wasn't until then that she stood and stretched and yawned before padding over to cover him with the light blanket.

She stood looking down at him for several long heartbeats. He didn't look so perplexing like that. He looked...worried, she decided, and impulsively leaned down to place a soft kiss on the small furrow that creased his brow. Her lips lingered for a few moments and her fingers gently combed the hair back from his face before she left his side to wander across the room to her bed.

---

"Meeting in Secret"
By: Lt. Commander Tebrianne Bancroft
Lt. Commander Benedict T'Kal
Commander Lyrr Tayla

Location: Deck 13, USS Sulu
Stardate 57910.17, 23h45

***

Tebrianne Bancroft leaned against the wall with her eyes closed. She'd been there for over an hour, though many had most likely long forgotten she'd entered the small room. It was a little used science lab on Deck 13 of the Secondary Hull. There weren't many places the three of them could have a meeting under the current conditions. But, she couldn't think of a better pair of people to be meeting with, considering their efforts in the Bajoran Resistance. Teb had a feeling that very type of cell organization may be required now.

She couldn't hide her nervousness and fear, the ever-present danger of being caught. She knew what sort of punishment awaited back aboard the Windsor, but she hoped to never return to that wretched ship again. She flexed her hand as phantom wounds made their presence known. At least she could still play. Finding a guitar aboard the Sulu hadn't been difficult. The small helmsman seemed to have a collection. She grinned in memory at the one he'd surrendered to her. She hadn't wanted to take it from him, but was grateful she had. When he'd seen her interest in it, he seemed to know he'd found some sort of hook. She reached down and idly fingered one of the strings as it hung at her side.

She pulled her hand away as a sound outside caught her attention. Her sensitive hearing picked up two sets of footsteps and she grinned. Time to get started, she thought.

Teb opened her eyes and blinked. The room was dark, but her eyes had adjusted to it long ago. The door hissed open, two shapes were limned from the light beyond. She could almost melt at just the sight of Benedict's shadowed profile. The door closed and she grinned.

"Glad you two could make it," she said.

Benedict caught sight of the guitar and he grinned. He nodded at her greeting and said, "Your Stratocaster is with Jules...she wanted to keep it...and I still have the holo of your concert with the PunkBrats." Before his mouth ran away with memories he stopped at the uncomfortable clearing of the throat that came from Lyrr. He turned to his fiancée and shrugged. "She's a brilliant musician." He turned back to Teb. "Maybe we can play together after all this is over."

"I'd like that very much," Tebrianne said with a grin. "I've heard this ship has a rather brilliant set of musicians aboard, at least according to Kit Markham. I think he was a little awestruck to meet Tebrianne of the PunkBrats. Wanted me to sign his duty uniform and all."

Lyrr sighed impatiently and whispered, "There isn't time for reminiscing, I'm afraid. Can we please do this?"

Benedict nodded and lost his smile. "What do you have in mind?" he asked Tebrianne, caught by the familiar smile and the chocolate colored eyes that looked back at him. There were so many memories there...but it felt already like she had only gone yesterday and now here she was again, holding a guitar and smiling at him in the way that always touched him. This was going to be difficult, he realized. "The two of you need some information," Tebrianne said. "As does the rest of this crew, but I'm not sure of the best way to pass it on yet. For starters, we're travelling toward what is known as the Gate. It's a constructed device that will allow a large number of ships to pass through the membrane that separates universes and dimensions. I'm not sure how exactly the technology works, but the theory is that it weakens a section of space to the point where it will allow vessels to pass between. Some sort of phase shift. We were pursuing a Dominion ship out here. They were trying to get a message to whoever was on the other side. They carried a portable version of such a device. It allowed them to pass through at warp, and appear in...the real universe. Their plan, as the Galactic Empire's networks discovered, was to warn the Dominion in the real universe of the planned invasion, so they could be ready. The Windsor's job was to stop them. We got 'ere too late." She grinned.

Benedict turned to Lyrr with a slight frown. "No one received the warning." He turned back to Tebrianne. "That ship was destroyed by Seeblin ships. There was no warning given, and their ship's destruction is what got us here. We tried to assist and got hit by their warp core breach."

"But after what you've told us," Lyrr put in, "it wasn't the core breach that catapulted us here, it was that device." She shrugged at Ben. "That could be why the Seeblin were chasing them."

He nodded again. "The fact that no one knows - no one has a warning about this invasion. This Gate you're talking about...just how large an invasion are you talking about?"

"It's huge," Tebrianne said. "Pretty much every ship we 'ave, and they're all assembled at the Gate right now. The Dominion have been doing everything they can harrying the Empire's flanks. They're freedom fighters and rebels here, fighting against the Terran Empire. I believe there may even be a plan, once the Gamma Quadrant on the other side is theirs, then the Alpha and Betas, to come back to this side and crush the Alliance as well. In any case, the Gate is four days travel from here. It's Iconian, or similar. Maybe this universe's version of them. Built on the event 'orizon of a black hole, I think. But if we can figure out a way to destroy that thing, we can stop the invasion."

"Destroy it?" Lyrr repeated incredulously. "I hope you don't mean before we go through it, with the captain in our possession."

Benedict looked at Lyrr with a slight widening of his eyes, but his grin turned into a chuckle. "Sounds like the beginning of a plan, Love," he said quietly, and then self-consciously looked at Teb. He hadn't realized just how many of her mannerisms he'd adopted until he called Lyrr 'Love'. "We have four days to figure out how to neutralize the Boarders, and get the captain back...and get through that Gate. What do we know?"

"There's a station attached to the Gate itself," Teb said as she leaned back against one counter and examined her multi-hued nails. "That's where it's controlled. If we can get someone aboard, we can open the Gate long enough for the Sulu to slip through. And if our timing's spot on, we can start a chain reaction that will also shut down the Gate and stop their invasion. It's tricky, and we'll have to really plan it out, but we've got four days for that before we arrive. The other problem is that the entire fleet will be there, so things are going to get a little hot. And, we'll have to figure out a way to get the captain back from the Windsor."

Benedict looked at Tebrianne and nodded. "Can you get the console codes for the Windsor?" he asked. The codes allowed a remote access to a Starfleet ship as long as the encryption code was correct. "If we can get that code, we can drop the Windsor's shields and beam the captain away. I have a feeling that he'll be kept in a secured location and we might need our Tactical Team to do that. As for the Gate...perhaps we can use the Nightingale."

"She keeps those pretty closely guarded," Tebrianne said, then grinned. "But, I know another way that won't completely put the Windsor on high-alert. I happen to know a certain traitor who 'appens to resemble their captain quite a bit, and is actually quite good at fooling the guards. When the time's right, if you can give me a few people, I can get 'im out."

Benedict grinned, and reached out to touch her arm. "When the time is right, you'll have what you need." He looked at Lyrr. "The TAC Team is hidden, and they're wearing the Maquis armbands I replicated, so they won't show on sensors. We'll need to arrange a rotation so that they can come out of hiding. Six go in and six go out, we can use a sensor shielded area in one of the Jeffries Junctions as a tactical operations center for when the time comes."

Tebrianne allowed her arm to brush against Ben's outstretched hand. "The Windsor teams will be fairly spread out, so I think we can work around them. They won't operate in a set pattern, but I'll see if I can arrange a few blind spots for them."

Eyes steadily locked to Ben's fingertips connecting with Teb, and her entire disposition became stiff and querulous. She cleared her throat and folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"That would be good, but don't do anything that would be obvious. My team are good, they can work around it." He smiled at her, and for a moment their eyes locked. It was a momentary thing that evoked a strong response in Benedict and he dropped his hand and looked away, suddenly very aware of her proximity and of Lyrr's. "Anything else we need to do?" he asked Tayla.

"Basically, get started immediately," she said curtly. "Any longer and we'll arouse suspicion." The glance directed at Ben was recognizably significant.

Benedict nodded, and at Lyrr's stance and look he knew that he was in trouble. This was going to be difficult. "Then we'd better go. I'll see you in quarters?" he asked.

"If you don't mind" --she smiled tightly at each of them-- "I'll be on the bridge. My presence there is needed." With a short nod to Teb, Lyrr turned, and only then did she shoot Ben a warning glare. "We'll talk soon, My Betrothed," she told him in Bajoran, her choice of appellation hardly unintentional.

He nodded, offering a slight smile. They had to talk about this. Of course he'd allow her to rave at him for a suitable time, and he was sure grovelling would be involved.

Tebrianne watched the exchange between the two and kept silent until they appeared finished. "I'll pop up to the bridge in a bit," she said. "I wanted to scrounge some grub and check a few more things down 'ere, then I should put in an appearance in the Big Chair."

"Of course," Lyrr replied with a false smile, then departed before her tightly controlled equanimity came unravelled.

Once Lyrr was gone, Tebrianne turned to Ben, her large, brown eyes searching his. "It's not going to be easy," she whispered.

He nodded. "When has it ever been easy for us?" he asked softly. "This has to be harder on you," he said sadly. "I've had five years to get used to your death." He looked up into her eyes. "I never have gotten used to it. There's too many of your memories in my head. But I did let you go, Teb...I had to. I can't say that there will be anything between us except friendship - but it will still be a special friendship. She can't alter that. She can't erase our past together. She's just going to have to get used to you being here...as I will. If that's what you want. I love her, Teb. As much as I loved you...and I won't hurt her. Not for anything...not even you." He looked away, "I hope you can understand that."

"Do you want me to stop loving you, Ben?" Tebrianne asked. "I don't know if I can turn off all my feelings like that. But if you want me to, I'll try." She sighed and ran a hand over her guitar. "I don't think she'll ever accept me here, at least not from what I've seen. She's angry and jealous. I feel like, just being near you, it upsets her. I hope that will change, because the thought of you having to fight every time we spend time together.... After awhile, you may start to resent me too."

He looked at her quickly. "I'll never resent you." He pressed a palm against her cheek. "I can't turn off my feelings either. I still love you. How could I not? She knows all about you, Teb. She knows what we had together, what we shared, and she knows that she can't have the same thing. There's a lot you don't know or understand about Tayla. She's a good woman, and she's strong and brave and she loves me...and I love her, Teb. I really do. I love both of you. But I can only have one of you. It's just...too late for us. It's past. I can't go back. Not now. I'm truly sorry, Love."

"Welcome back, Tebrianne," she said softly. "Maybe...maybe when we get back, I should put in for another ship. Because every time I see you, I'll know I can't touch you, can't hold you, can't kiss you, can't..." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I don't know. We 'ave to get out of this first, then...who knows. I'll figure my way, always 'ave."

He nodded, dropping his hand away from her. He wanted to hold her, comfort her the way he used to. Looking up into her eyes he knew that he wanted her; as much as he always had. He couldn't deny his feelings. He held her eyes for a long moment, the unspoken emotions warring within him. She was so close...and she was right. It would be that way every time he looked at her. She would see it in his eyes and so would Tayla. Seeing her again, being with her was bringing it all back. It would tear him apart. He just stood looking at her, not knowing whether to go, or what to say, or what not to say....

Finally, she sighed, and slipped herself into his arms. "A hug won't hurt," she whispered. As she stepped into his embrace he took a shuddering breath and before he realized it he'd tilted her chin upward and kissed her. There were literally years of longing in the kiss, and his tears were hot on his cheeks as he held her. It lasted a long time, before he broke away, and he wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her hair, his chest burning with the pain. It was as if his heart were breaking all over again.

The kiss had been completely unexpected, but once it had started, Teb could have done nothing but give herself into it fully. She clung to him with all her strength and all her hope. Time would tell what their future would be, and she hoped it could be more like this. As he held her, she reached up and kissed his chin. "'ard to believe it's been five years," she said softly.

"More than a lifetime," he whispered hoarsely. "Prophets it's good to have you back." He drew in a long breath and let it out, finally kissing her forehead. "We have to go," he said. "I need time...to think... About everything."

Tebrianne nodded slowly. "I should get to the bridge," she said. "It's ...it's different, but I'm so happy to be back, Ben. Seeing you again ...it's a dream."

"I'm sorry it's worked out this way," he said, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. "Come on...let's go." He stepped away and turned, leading her out of the science lab. He left her at the turbo- lift on the way to the Bridge, and Benedict walked slowly to the ship's Arboretum. He had a lot to think about. Tebrianne's kiss was still burning his lips....

As the doors to the turbolift closed, Tebrianne watched him. The weight of the guitar rested against one hip and the heavy, curved blade of her knife was ever-present against her opposite thigh. The gravities of her two worlds were now coming back into focus. The artist she'd left behind five years ago, and the fighter she'd been forced to become. It was all coming together now, and soon...soon something would break. It was a great wave rolling up and poised to crash down against the surf. The lift began to rise, and Tebrianne closed her eyes. And thrown into that mix was now the love that she had lost, a love not quite as lost as she'd first thought.

"With each breath, deeper I reach," she sang softly, "back I go, into the breach."

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